"If you please I will go with you." I thanked him, and opening a gate he conducted me across the field to the mount of the Welsh hero.
The mount of Owen Glendower stands close upon the southern bank of the Dee, and is nearly covered with trees of various kinds.

It is about thirty feet high from the plain, and about the same diameter at the top.
A deep black pool of the river which here runs far beneath the surface of the field, purls and twists under the northern side, which is very steep, though several large oaks spring out of it.

The hill is evidently the work of art, and appeared to me to be some burying-place of old.
"And this is the hill of Owain Glyndwr ?" said I.
"Dyma Mont Owain Glyndwr, sir, lle yr oedd yn sefyll i edrych am ei elvnion yn dyfod o Gaer Lleon.

This is the hill of Owain Glendower, sir, where he was in the habit of standing to look out for his enemies coming from Chester." "I suppose it was not covered with trees then ?" said I.
"No, sir; it has not been long planted with trees.

They say, however, that the oaks which hang over the river are very old." "Do they say who raised this hill ?" "Some say that God raised it, sir; others that Owain Glendower raised it.
Who do you think raised it ?" "I believe that it was raised by man, but not by Owen Glendower.