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ngle, and brawling brook of the Cyflymed, with many others, which are supplied with the most gratifying conveniences for their leisurely inspection. After all, I must confess, filled as was my mind by the impressions of the majestic scenes with which it had become familiar, the miniature landscapes supplied by the situation of Plas Newydd, fell far short of the anticipation I had formed, and they forcibly recalled the emotion I remembered to have felt after viewing the mimic hills and vales, and passionless cascades of the poet Shenstone, in his retreat at the Leasowes, near Hagley."
Miss Costello, who made the tour of North Wales in 1844 is even less complimentary, and is thus smartly satirical in the peculiarities of the departed "Ladies:"--
"One of the great attractions of Llangollen a few years ago was the romantic story attached to the place and the residence there of Lady Eleanor Butler and Miss Ponsonby. Pilgrimages were made to this shrine of friendship, and the ladies were overwhelmed with visitors, and their cottage filled with offerings. Their tomb is now in the churchyard, and their cottage let; and very few persons recollect much about them, or feel any interest in a sentimental history, which belonged to the last century, and now can only excite a smile at the eccentricity of its heroines, who, under pretence of retiring from society, made themselves conspicuous throughout the country. Most of their accumulated stores were sold by public auction, on the death of the last of the friends, and the cottage, as it now stands, is by no means either a rural or picturesque object. It is covered inside and out with carved wood, some of value, and some quite worthless; and all that remains of the taste of the former proprietors merely proves how little was required to please fifty years ago. The trees, planted by the friends, are now grown high, and shut out all view of the country; in fact, the whole place has a vulgar, common-place appearance, and excited in my mind no sort of interest, nor wa