Sir Walter Scott quotes the lines of the poet David Lindsay-- “Adew, fair Snawdon, with thy towris hie, Thy chapell-royall, park, and Tabyll Round,” which removes the relic, natural or artificial, to North Wales; but Anglesey also claims that what others call a Roman camp overlooking Redwharf Bay is the “Burdd Arthur,” or Arthur’s Round Table. Leland’s Itinerary contains the announcement that near Denbigh “there is, in the Paroch of Llansannen in the Side of a Stony Hille, a Place wher there be twenty-four Holes or Places in a Roundel for Men to sitte in, but sum lesse, and some bigger, cutte out of the mayne Rock by Mannes Hand; and there Children and Young Men cumming to seke their Catelle use to sitte and play. Sum caulle it the Rounde Table. Kiddes use their communely to play and skip from Sete to Sete.” No conclusion can be drawn, and no satisfaction can be gained, from this medley of conflicting claims: we learn only that the tradition was widely diffused and that either in a spirit of contention to claim possession of the relic, or with the desire to ensure the survival of the recollection by symbols, the name came to be indiscriminately bestowed upon artificial imitations or natural resemblances of the original. George Borrow, however, favoured the Welsh localities as truly Arthurian. If we turn to the question of the number of the knights supposed to range themselves at the Table Round we find similar diversity both of record and opinion, and equal preposterousness in rival claims. The Table at Winchester had “sieges” for twenty-five, including the king. The Table mentioned by Malory had “sieges” for one hundred and fifty: one hundred were sent by Leodegraunce, Merlin found twenty-eight more, King Arthur chose Sir Gawaine and Sir Tor, and the remaining twenty were left for those who proved themselves worthy. Yet the old frontispiece to Malory’s History showed only thirty knights seated at the Table; Scott, in his _Triermain_, mentions only sixteen; and the old ballad on Arthur specifies the number of “good and able knights” as fifty. To leave such details, let it suffice to learn from Malory that “by the noble fellowship of the Table Round was King Arthur borne up”; or let us agree with Drayton, for the sake of poetical justice, that Arthur’s and Charlemagne’s knights were of exactly the same number-- “Who bear the bow were knights in Arthur’s reign, Twelve they, and twelve the knights of Charlemagne.”