Just beyond the wall a truly noble
prospect presented itself to our eyes. To the north were bold
hills, their sides and skirts adorned with numerous woods and white
farm-houses; a thousand feet below us was the Dee and its wondrous
Pont y Cysultau. John Jones said that if certain mists did not
intervene we might descry "the sea of Liverpool"; and perhaps the
only thing wanting to make the prospect complete, was that sea of
Liverpool. We were, however, quite satisfied with what we saw, and
turning round the corner of the hill, reached its top, where for a
considerable distance there is level ground, and where, though at a
great altitude, we found ourselves in a fair and fertile region,
and amidst a scene of busy rural life. We saw fields and
inclosures, and here and there corn-stacks, some made, and others
not yet completed, about which people were employed, and waggons
and horses moving. Passing over the top of the hill, we began to
descend the southern side, which was far less steep than the one we
had lately surmounted. After a little way, the road descended
through a wood, which John Jones told us was the beginning of "the
Park of Biddulph."
"There is plenty of game in this wood," said he; "pheasant cocks
and pheasant hens, to say nothing of hares and coneys; and in the
midst of it there is a space sown with a particular kind of corn
for the support of the pheasant hens and pheasant cocks, which in
the shooting-season afford pleasant sport for Biddulph and his
friends.
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