These Rows And The Walls Are Certainly The Most
Remarkable Memorials Of Old Times Which Chester Has To Boast Of.
Upon the walls it is possible to make the whole compass of the
city, there being a good but narrow walk upon them.
The northern
wall abuts upon a frightful ravine, at the bottom of which is a
canal. From the western one there is a noble view of the Welsh
hills.
As I stood gazing upon the hills from the wall a ragged man came up
and asked for charity.
"Can you tell me the name of that tall hill?" said I, pointing in
the direction of the south-west. "That hill, sir," said the
beggar, "is called Moel Vamagh; I ought to know something about it
as I was born at its foot." "Moel," said I, "a bald hill; Vamagh,
maternal or motherly. Moel Vamagh, the Mother Moel." "Just so,
sir," said the beggar; "I see you are a Welshman, like myself,
though I suppose you come from the South - Moel Vamagh is the
Mother Moel, and is called so because it is the highest of all the
Moels." "Did you ever hear of a place called Mold?" said I. "Oh,
yes, your honour," said the beggar; "many a time; and many's the
time I have been there." "In which direction does it lie?" said I.
"Towards Moel Vamagh, your honour," said the beggar, "which is a
few miles beyond it; you can't see it from here, but look towards
Moel Vamagh and you will see over it." "Thank you," said I, and
gave something to the beggar, who departed, after first taking off
his hat.
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