SNOWDON.
We engaged the miner [170] as our conductor over the mountain, who entertained us much with displaying, in strong colours, the tricks and impositions of his brother guides. [171]
At half-past twelve we started from our inn, determined to see the sun rise from its highest summit. The night was now very dark, and we could just discover that the top of Snowdon was entirely enveloped in a thick impenetrable mist: this unpropitious omen staggered our resolutions; and we for some time hesitated respecting our farther progress; but our guide assuring us that his comfortable cottage was not far distant, we again plucked up resolution; and, quitting the high way about two miles on the Caernarvon road, we turned to the right, through a boggy, unpleasant land, and in danger of losing our shoes every step we took. This soon brought us to the comfortable cot, the filth and dirtiness of which can better be imagined than described; a worm-eaten bed, two small stools, and table fixed to the wall, composed the whole of his furniture; two fighting-cocks were perched on a beam, which Thomas seemed to pride himself in the possession of: the smoke of the fire ascended through a small hole in the roof of this comfortable mansion, the door of which did not appear proof against the “churlish chiding of the winter blast.”
Such, indeed, was the situation of this Cambrian mountaineer: and, though, in our own opinion, misery, poverty, and dirt personified, seemed to be the real inhabitants of this cottage, yet there was something prepossessing in his character; for, frequently, with the greatest vehemence imaginable, and in the true style of an anchorite, he declared, that, “though he boasted not riches, yet he boasted of independence; and though he possessed not wealth, yet he possessed the home of happiness, an honest breast.”
The morning appearing to wear a more favourable aspect, we again sallied forth; the bogs, however, still rendered it extremely unpleasant. But this inconvenience was only temporary; we soon came to a part of the mountain entirely composed of loose stones and fragments of rock, which affording only a very treacherous footing, you are liable to perpetual falls. The mountain now became much steeper, the path less rocky, and our mountaineer, the higher we proceeded, more induced to exhibit feats of his agility, by occasionally running down a short precipice, and then, by a loud shout of vociferation, shewing us the obedience of the sheep, who instantaneously flocked around him at the sound of his voice: it is singular, the caution implanted in this animal, by instinct, for the mutual protection of each other; from the liberty they enjoy, they seldom congregate in one flock, but are generally discovered grazing in parties from six to a dozen, one of which is regularly appointed centinel, to watch the motions of their inveterate enemies (foxes and birds of prey), which infest this mountain. A wider expanse of the hemisphere disclosed itself, and every object below us gradually diminished as we ascended. The freshness of the mountain whetted our appetites; and our conductor, with very little persuasion, soon influenced us to open our little basket of provisions. The sun, the “rich-hair’d youth of morn,” was just peeping from his bed; and having refreshed ourselves, with eager impatience, we again climbed the rugged precipice; for we had still a considerable height to ascend. We now passed several steep declivities by a narrow path not more than three yards wide, with a dreadful perpendicular on each side, the sight of which almost turned us giddy. As we were passing this hazardous path, a thick mist enveloped us, and an impenetrable abyss appeared on both sides; the effect, indeed, can scarcely be conceived; our footing, to us, puisne mountaineers, seemed very insecure; and a total destruction would have been the consequence of one false step. The air grew intensely cold, and, by our guide’s recommendation, we a second time produced our pistol of rum, diluted with milk; but this cordial must be used with caution, as a very small quantity of strong liquor affects the head, owing to the rarefaction of the air. On our reaching the summit, all our difficulties were forgotten, and our imaginary complaints overborne with exclamations of wonder, surprise, and admiration. The light, thin, misty cloud, which had for some time enveloped us, as if by enchantment, suddenly dispersed; the whole ocean appeared illuminated by a fiery substance, and all the subject hills below us, for they resembled mole-hills, were gradually tinged by the rich glow of the sun; whose orb becoming at length distinctly visible, displayed the whole island of Anglesea so distinctly, that we descried, as in a map, its flat and uncultivated plains, bounded by the rich and inexhaustible Parys mountains, in the vicinity of Holyhead. The point on which we were standing did not exceed a square of five yards, and we sickened almost at the sight of the steep precipices which environed us; round it is a small parapet, formed by the customary tribute of all strangers, who visit this summit, and to which we likewise contributed, by placing a large stone on its top; this parapet, indeed, sheltered us from the chilly cold, and protected us from the piercing wind, to which this height must naturally be exposed.
We remained in this situation for a considerable time, and endeavoured, without success, to enumerate the several lakes, forests, woods, and counties, which were exposed to us in one view; but lost and confounded with the innumerable objects worthy of admiration, and regardless of the chilling cold, we took a distinct survey of the Isle of Man, together with a faint prospect of the Highlands in Ireland, which appeared just visibly skirting the distant horizon; but another object soon engrossed all our attention:
“The wide, the unbounded prospect lay before us;
But shadows, clouds, and darkness, rest upon it:”
For we unexpectedly observed long billows of vapour tossing about, half way down the mountain, totally excluding the country below, and occasionally dispersing, and partially revealing, its features; while above, the azure expanse of the heavens remained unobscured by the thinnest mist. This, however, was of no long continuance: a thick cloud presently wet us through; and the point on which we were standing could alone be distinguished. As there appeared little or no chance of the clouds dispersing, we soon commenced our descent. Respecting this Alpine excursion, suffice it to say, that though our expectations were raised exceedingly high, it infinitely surpassed all conception, and baffled all description; for no colour of language can paint the grandeur of the rising sun, observed from this eminence, or describe the lakes, woods, and forests, which are extended before you; for description, though it enumerates their names, yet it cannot draw the elegance of outline, cannot give the effect of precipices, or delineate the minute features, which reward the actual observer, at every new choice of his position; and, by changing their colour and form in his gradual ascent, till at last every object dwindles into atoms: in short, this interesting excursion, which comprehends every thing that is awful, grand, and sublime, producing the most pleasing sensations, has left traces in the memory which the imagination will ever hold dear.
The view from the summit of Snowdon is thus described by the author of the Beauties, Harmonies, and Sublimities of Nature.
“After climbing over masses of crags and rocks, we ascended the peak of Snowdon, the height of which is 3571 feet above the level of the Irish Sea. Arrived at its summit, a scene presented itself, magnificent beyond the powers of language! Indeed, language is indigent and impotent, when it would presume to sketch scenes, on which the Great Eternal has placed his matchless finger with delight. Faint are thy broad and deep delineations, immortal Salvator Rosa! Powerless and feeble are your inspirations, Genius of Thomson, Virgil, and Lucretius!
“From this point are seen more than five-and-twenty lakes. Seated on one of the crags, it was long before the eye, unaccustomed to measure such elevations, could accommodate itself to scenes so admirable:—the whole appearing as if there had been a war of the elements; and as if we were the only inhabitants of the globe permitted to contemplate the ruins of the world. Rocks and mountains, which, when observed from below, bear all the evidences of sublimity, when viewed from the summit of Snowdon, are blended with others as dark, as rugged, and as elevated as themselves; the whole resembling the swellings of an agitated ocean.
“The extent of this prospect appears almost unlimited. The four kingdoms are seen at once: Wales, England, Scotland, and Ireland! forming the finest panorama the empire can boast. The circle begins with the mountains of Cumberland and Westmoreland; those of Ingleborough and Penygent, in the county of York, and the hills of Lancashire forefollow: then are observed the counties of Chester, Flint, Denbigh, and a portion of Montgomeryshire. Nearly the whole of Merioneth succeeds; and drawing a line with the eye along the diameter of the circle, we take in the regions, stretching from the triple crown of Cader Idris to the sterile crags of Carnedds-David, and Llewelyn. Snowdon, rising in the centre, appears as if he could touch the south with his right hand, and the north with his left. ‘Surely,’ thought Colonna, ‘Cæsar sat upon these crags, when he formed the daring conception of governing the world!’
“From Cader Idris, the eye, pursuing the orbit of the bold geographical outline, glances over the bay of Cardigan, and reposes for a while on the summit of the Rivel. After observing the indented shores of Caernarvonshire, it travels over a long line of ocean, till, in the extremity of the horizon, the blue mountains of Wicklow terminate the perspective. Those mountains gradually sink along the coast, till they are lost to the eye; which, ranging along the expanse, at length, as weary of the journey, reposes on the Island of Man, and the distant mountains of Scotland. The intermediate space is occupied by the sides and summits of mountains, hollow crags, masses of rocks, the towers of Caernarvon, the fields of Anglesea, with woods, lakes, and glens, scattered in magnificent confusion. A scene like this commands our feelings to echo, as it were, in unison to its grandeur and sublimity: the thrill of astonishment and the transport of admiration seem to contend for the mastery; and nerves are touched that never thrilled before. We seem as if our former existence were annihilated; and as if a new epoch were commenced. Another world opens upon us; and an unlimited orbit appears to display itself, as a theatre for our ambition.”
The first two miles of our descent we by no means found difficult, but wishing to take a minute survey of the picturesque Pass of Llanberris, we changed the route generally prescribed to strangers, and descended a rugged and almost perpendicular path, in opposition to the proposals of our guide, who strenuously endeavoured to dissuade us from the attempt; alleging the difficulty of the steep, and relating a melancholy story of a gentleman, who many years back had broken his leg. This had no effect: we determined to proceed; and the vale of Llanberris amply rewarded us for the trouble.
Mr. Williams, of Llandegai, in his observations on the Snowdon mountains (which, from his having been a resident on the spot, may be considered as entitled to the greatest credit,) makes the following remarks on the probable derivation of their names, and the customs and manners of their inhabitants.
“It would be endless to point out the absurd conjectures and misrepresentations of those who have of late years undertaken to describe this country. Some give manifestly wrong interpretations of the names of places, and others, either ignorantly or maliciously, have as it were caricatured its inhabitants. Travellers from England, often from want of candour, and always from defect of necessary knowledge, impose upon the world unfavourable as well as false accounts of their fellow-subjects in Wales; yet the candour of the Welsh is such, that they readily ascribe such misrepresentations to an ignorance of their language, and a misconception of the honest, though perhaps warm temper of those that speak it. And it may be, travellers are too apt to abuse the Welsh, because they cannot or will not speak English. Their ignorance ought not to incur disgust: their reluctance proceeds not from stubbornness, but from diffidence, and the fear of ridicule.
“NATIVES OF ERYRI.
“The inhabitants of the British mountains are so humane and hospitable, that a stranger may travel amongst them without incurring any expense for diet or lodging. Their fare an Englishman may call coarse; however, they commonly in farm-houses have three sorts of bread, namely, wheat, barley, and oatmeal; but the oatmeal they chiefly use; this, with milk, butter, cheese, and potatoes, is their chief summer food. They have also plenty of excellent trout, which they eat in its season. And for the winter they have dry salted beef, mutton, and smoked rock venison, which they call Côch ar Wyden, i.e. The Red upon the Withe, being hung by a withe, made of a willow or hazel twig. They very seldom brew ale, except in some of the principal farm-houses: having no corn of their own growing, they think it a superfluous expense to throw away money for malt and hops, when milk, or butter-milk mixed with water, quenches the thirst as well.
“They are hardy and very active; but they have not the perseverance and resolution which are necessary for laborious or continued undertakings, being, from their infancy, accustomed only to ramble over the hills after their cattle. In summer they go barefoot, but seldom barelegged, as has been lately asserted by a traveller. They are shrewd and crafty in their bargains, and jocular in their conversation; very sober, and great economists; though a late tourist has given them a different character. Their greetings, when they meet any one of their acquaintance, may to some appear tedious and disagreeable: their common mode of salutation is ‘How is thy heart? how the good wife at home, the children, and the rest of the family?’ and that often repeated. When they meet at a public-house, they will drink each other’s health, or the health of him to whom the mug goes at every round. They are remarkably honest.
“Their courtships, marriages, &c. differ in nothing from what is practised on these occasions among the lowlanders or other Welsh people; but as there are some distinct and local customs in use in North Wales, not adopted in other parts of Great Britain, I shall, by way of novelty, relate a few of them:—When Cupid lets fly his shaft at a youthful heart, the wounded swain seeks for an opportunity to have a private conversation with the object of his passion, which is usually obtained at a fair, or at some other public meeting; where he, if bold enough, accosts her, and treats her with wine and cakes. But he that is too bashful will employ a friend to break the ice for him, and disclose the sentiments of his heart: the fair one, however, disdains proxies of this kind, and he that is bold, forward, and facetious, has a greater chance of prevailing, especially if he has courage enough to steal a few kisses: she will then probably engage to accept of his nocturnal visit the next Saturday night. When the happy hour arrives, neither the darkness of the night, the badness of the weather, nor the distance of the place, will discourage him, so as to abandon his engagement. When he reaches the spot, he conceals himself in some out-building, till the family go to rest. His fair friend alone knows of and awaits his coming. After admittance into the house a little chat takes place at the fire-side, and then, if every thing is friendly, they agree to throw themselves on a bed, if there is an empty one in the house; when Strephon takes off his shoes and coat, and Phillis only her shoes; and covering themselves with a blanket or two, they chat there till the morning dawn, and then the lover steals away as privately as he came. And this is the bundling or courting in bed, [181] for which the Welsh are so much bantered by strangers.
“This courtship often lasts for years, ere the swain can prevail upon his mistress to accept of his hand. Now and then a pregnancy precedes marriage, but very seldom, or never, before a mutual promise of entering into the marriage state is made. When a matrimonial contract is thus entered into, the parents and friends of each party are apprised of it, and an invitation to the wedding takes place; where, at the appointed wedding-day, every guest that dines drops his shilling, besides payment for what he drinks. The company very often amounts to two or three hundred, and sometimes more. This donation is intended to assist the young couple to buy bed-clothes, and other articles necessary to begin the world. Nor does the friendly bounty stop here: when the woman is brought to bed, the neighbours meet at the christening, out of free good-will, without invitation, where they drop their money; usually a shilling to the woman in the straw, sixpence to the midwife, and sixpence to the cook; more or less, according to the ability and generosity of the giver.
“MODE OF BURYING.
“When the parish bell announces the death of a person, it is immediately inquired upon what day the funeral is to be; and on the night preceding that day all the neighbours assemble at the house where the corpse is, which they call Ty Corph, i.e. ‘the corpse’s house.’ The coffin, with the remains of the deceased, is then placed on the stools, in an open part of the house, covered with black cloth, or, if the deceased was unmarried, with a clean white sheet, with three candles burning on it. Every person on entering the house falls devoutly on his knees before the corpse, and repeats to himself the Lord’s Prayer, or any other prayer that he chooses. Afterwards, if he is a smoker, a pipe and tobacco are offered to him. This meeting is called Gwylnos, and in some places Pydreua. The first word means Vigil; the other is, no doubt, a corrupt word from Paderau, or Padereuau, that is, Paters, or Paternosters. When the assembly is full, the parish clerk reads the common service appointed for the burial of the dead: at the conclusion of which psalms, hymns, and other godly songs are sung; and since Methodism is become so universal, some one stands up and delivers an oration on the melancholy subject, and then the company drop away by degrees. On the following day the interment takes place, between two and four o’clock in the afternoon, when all the neighbours assemble again. It is not uncommon to see on such occasions an assembly of three or four hundred people, or even more. These persons are all treated with warm spiced ale, cakes, pipes, and tobacco; and a dinner is given to all those that come from far: I mean, that such an entertainment is given at the funerals of respectable farmers. [183a] They then proceed to the church; and at the end of that part of the burial service, which is usually read in the church, before the corpse is taken from the church, every one of the congregation presents the officiating minister with a piece of money; the deceased’s next relations usually drop a shilling each, others sixpence, and the poorer sort a penny a-piece, laying it on the altar. This is called offering, and the sum amounts sometimes to eight, ten, or more pounds at a burial. The parish clerk has also his offering at the grave, which amounts commonly to about one-fourth of what the clergyman received. After the burial is over the company retire to the public-house, where every one spends his sixpence for ale; [183b] then all ceremonies are over.”
Mr. W. then proceeds to explain the good and ill resulting from the prevalence of Methodism, and those fanatics termed Ranters, &c. and states, that “the mountain people preserve themselves, in a great measure, a distinct race from the lowlanders: they but very seldom come down to the lowlands for wives; nor will the lowlander often climb up the craggy steeps, and bring down a mountain spouse to his cot. Their occupations are different, and it requires that their mates should be qualified for such different modes of living.
“I will not scruple to affirm, that these people have no strange blood in their veins,—that they are the true offspring of the ancient Britons: they, and their ancestors, from time immemorial, have inhabited the same districts, and, in one degree or other, they are all relations.”
The vale of Llanberris is bounded by the steep precipices of Snowdon, and two large lakes, communicating by a river. It was formerly a large forest, but the woods are now entirely cut down. We here dismissed our Cambrian mountaineer, and easily found our way to Dolbadern (pronounced Dolbathern) Castle, situated between the two lakes, and now reduced to one circular tower, thirty feet in diameter, with the foundations of the exterior buildings completely in ruins. In this Owen Gôch, brother to Llewellin, last prince, was confined in prison. This tower appears to have been the keep or citadel, about ninety feet in height, with a vaulted dungeon. At the extremity of the lower lake are the remains of a British fortification, called Caer cwm y Glô; and about half a mile from the castle, to the south, at the termination of a deep glen, is a waterfall, called Caunant Mawr; it rushes over a ledge of rocks upwards of twenty yards in height, falls some distance in an uninterrupted sheet, and then dashes with a tremendous roar through the impending fragments of the rock, till it reaches the more quiet level of the vale. Returning to the lakes, you have a fine view of the ruins, with the promontory on which they are situated; and that with greatly heightened effect, if favoured by their reflection on the glassy surface of the waters, to which you add the rocky heights on each side; Llanberris church relieving the mountain scenery, and the roughest and most rugged cliffs of Snowdon in the back-ground topping the whole, which give together a grand and pleasing coup-d’œil.
In this vicinity are large slate quarries, the property of Thomas Asheton Smith, Esq. and a rich vein of copper ore. These afford employ to great numbers of industrious poor: to the men, in obtaining the ore and slates, and the women and children in breaking, separating, and preparing the different sorts for exportation, or for undergoing farther preparatory processes to fit them for smelting. From hence a rugged horse-path brought us to the Caernarvon turnpike-road, about six miles distant; the high towers of the castle, the very crown and paragon of the landscape, at last pointed out the situation of