“This place,” says Warner, “as its name imports, was connected with the awful superstitions of the ancient Britons, and exhibited some years since vestiges of Druidical worship.” These vestiges were British stone huts or tombs—the “kistvaens” of archæological literature. Warner and the peasantry thought them to be prisons, but, whatever they were, they have long since disappeared; only the rocky site—like a granite island rising from the surrounding level—remaining to give a reason for Cerrig’s name. It is curious to reflect that the village of Crick in Northants, was originally Cerrig, and that the name of Carrick, in Ireland, has a similar meaning. Only in England, where ages ago “the coiling serpent” (as the Welsh call the advancing Saxon) established himself and expelled the Celt, has the word been corrupted. When Borrow came to Cerrig-y-Druidion he says he stayed at the “Lion—whether the white, black, red, or green Lion I do not know.” It was, in fact, the “White Lion,” which still protrudes a battered and weather-beaten sign over the bye-street, while the “Saracen’s Head” stands boldly upon the main road. How he met the Italian who spoke Welsh, and on the morrow met the Irish fiddler with the game leg and the infernal cheek, let the pages of _Wild Wales_ relate. XLI The scattered cottages and old toll-house of Glasfryn bring one to Cernioge, the place to which the milestones have been insistently directing, since Corwen. What, the stranger wonders, is this place (“Kernioggy” the Welsh pronounce it) that it should be thus dignified? Well, here it is, just a farmhouse lying back from the road, with a pond beside it under the trees, a few outbuildings, and an older toll-house than the Glasfryn one. Not, nowadays, a very striking spot, except for its remote solitude; yet this, in the old days of road-travel, was a quite famous inn and posting-house, a stage between Bettws-y-Coed and the “Druid’s Head.” The inevitable reflection here is that if it was to such lonely places as this that travellers of old were glad to come, exclaiming with delight as to their comfort, how discomfortable must travelling then have been!