A large brick mansion, presents itself. It is situated on a rising ground, on the north side of the Wrexham road; and was once the residence of John Trevor, Bishop of St. Asaph, who in the year 1346 caused a stone bridge to be built over the Dee, at Llangollen, which is accounted one of the wonders of Wales. Mr. Pennant says {72} “Trevor Hall passed into the family of the Lloyds, and has continued in that family to the present time.” The last possessor was a lady of the name of Thomas, deceased in the last year, and leaving a son to inherit, although at present he does not occupy the premises. The house is roomy and substantial, and is pleasantly situated; but has no pretensions to elegance or beauty. Near the house is a church, or rather chapel, of ease, enjoying Queen Anne’s bounty, in which English service is performed on the first Sunday in every month. In a rocky cliff in the neighbourhood of the Hall, is a cavern of some extent, in which I was informed there were to be found the petrified bones of wolves, foxes, and other wild animals. Resolving to ascertain the fact, I explored the place, but, whatever there may have been, I could not discover the vestiges of any such relics. I brought away some specimens of stalactites, of curious forms and various incrustations, with which the roof of the cavern abounds, and which may by some have been mistaken for petrified bony substances. This craggy ridge seems to be the commencement of that wonderful range of limestone called the Eglwyseg Rocks. Near to the river is the ancient house of Plas yn Pentre, now inhabited by Mr. Edward Jones; and between Trevor Hall and the Dee is one of the most beautifully clear springs of cold water imaginable. It is called Ffynnon Yryrog, and is in very great repute as a bath for the cure of rheumatic affections; and if Saint Collen with a long name {74} had thought proper to have bestowed his benediction, it might perhaps have rivalled its prototype at Holywell. Its issue is very abundant, and its coldness exceeds belief: persons bathing cannot continue in the water a minute. Many wonderful accounts are told of its efficacy in chronic disorders. In its passage to the Dee, it formerly turned a water mill, now in ruins. The spring rises in a field belonging to Plas yn Pentre. On the road side, between Trevor Hall and Bron Heulog, is a small farm house, called Plas Eva or Evan. I notice it only as marking the spot where formerly was a cemetery, retaining the appellation of Mynwent y Quacer, or Quaker’s Burying Ground. It is on the south side of the house; and in cutting the canal, the earth from the excavation was thrown upon the old graves and the inscribed stones that lay upon the surface.