Bright. We left Birkenhead by railway for Chester at two o'clock; thence
for Bangor; thence by carriage over the Menai bridge to Beaumaris. At
Beaumaris, a fine old castle,--quite coming up to my idea of what an old
castle should be. A gray, ivy-hung exterior wall, with large round
towers at intervals; within this another wall, the place of the
portcullis between; and again, within the second wall the castle itself,
with a spacious green court-yard in front. The outer wall is so thick
that a passage runs in it all round the castle, which covers a space of
three acres. This passage gives access to a chapel, still very perfect,
and to various apartments in the towers,--all exceedingly dismal, and
giving very unpleasant impressions of the way in which the garrison of
the castle lived. The main castle is entirely roofless, but the hall and
other rooms are pointed out by the guide, and the whole is tapestried
with abundant ivy, so that my impression is of gray walls, with here and
there a vast green curtain; a carpet of green over the floors of halls
and apartments; and festoons around all the outer battlement, with an
uneven and rather perilous foot-path running along the top. There is a
fine vista through the castle itself, and the two gateways of the two
encompassing walls. The passage within the wall is very rude, both
underfoot and on each side, with various ascents and descents of rough
steps,--sometimes so low that your head is in danger; and dark, except
where a little light comes through a loophole or window in the thickness
of the wall. In front of the castle a tennis-court was fitted up, by
laying a smooth pavement on the ground, and casing the walls with tin or
zinc, if I recollect aright. All this was open to the sky; and when we
were there, some young men of the town were playing at the game. There
are but very few of these tennis-courts in England; and this old castle
was a very strange place for one.

The castle is the property of Sir Richard Bulkely, whose seat is in the