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Updated: June 27, 2025
In the evening I took a walk with my wife and daughter past the Plas Newydd. Coming to the little mill called the Melyn Bac, at the bottom of the gorge, we went into the yard to observe the water-wheel. We found that it was turned by a very little water, which was conveyed to it by artificial means.
Dear Sir: On my arrivol to this plas I could hear nothing of my hard mony and so must conclud it is gon to the dogs we have no nus hear from head Quarters not a lin senc I cam hear and what my destination is to be this summer cant even so much as geuss but shuld be much obbliged to you if you would be so good as to send me by the teems the Lym juice you was so good as to offer me and a par of Shoes I left under the chamber tabel.
There's Miss Rice Rice, and the Miss Jamms's, Plas Newydd, and Miss Lawis, Pontammon, and Miss Colonel Rees, and Miss Jones the 'Torney, and Miss Captain Thomas, and I 'ouldn't say but Miss Gwynne, Glanyravon, do be all speaking, and talking, and walking, and dancing with my Howels! There's for you: and yet he do like his cousin Netta best he do say.
Plas Abertewey was a fine old country seat, that had been in Colonel Vaughan's family for generations. Miss Gwynne was not the only scion of the good old county gentry who was disgusted at seeing it in the possession of a son of old Griffey Jenkins, the miser. But so it was to be.
He had never loved money or thirsted for estate, but the thought of that sum of seven thousand pounds solidly invested, and the house that stood in its walled garden on the cliffs at Herion, looking out on the wild, tumbling grey-white waters of Nantavon Bay, was dear to him. Plas Bendigaid had been a Convent once.
His return was therefore an event of considerable interest to the neighbourhood in which his place and property lay; and, doubtless, Mr Gwynne was not the only person who wished Colonel Vaughan to settle at Plas Abertewey. When he was last at Glanyravon Park Mrs Gwynne was alive, Freda was a child of eight, and Miss Hall a very elegant and pretty young woman.
Frisk! don't make such a noise. Don't jump so, Frisk. There! I will take you in. Good dog! good Frisk! You love me if no one else does; you and Gladys. Those Llanfawr bells which, as Freda said, certainly did ring for everything, were sending forth their chimes to celebrate the birth of a daughter at Plas Abertewey.
There are many pleasant villas on both sides of the river, some of which stand a considerable way up the hill; of the villas the most noted is Plas Newydd at the foot of the Berwyn, built by two Irish ladies of high rank, who resided in it for nearly half a century, and were celebrated throughout Europe by the name of the Ladies of Llangollen.
At the Plas Newydd I took an affectionate farewell of my two loved ones, and proceeded to ascend the Berwyn. Near the top I turned round to take a final look at the spot where I had lately passed many a happy hour.
As we passed by the Plas Newydd John Jones said: "No one lives there now, sir; all dark and dreary; very different from the state of things when the ladies lived there all gay then and cheerful. I remember the ladies, sir, particularly the last, who lived by herself after her companion died.
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