MR. BINGLEY’S ASCENT.
This industrious and persevering traveller observes: “I had made a determination soon after I came into Wales, that I would ascend Snowdon by all the tracks that are usually pointed out to travellers.” This gentleman had already accomplished the task in three instances, his routes being first from Dôlbadarn Castle, secondly from Llanberis, and thirdly from Llyn Cwellyn. The fourth, the description of which we are about to borrow, as more descriptive than any of the others, is the route from Bedd-gelert. He says: “The distance from Bedd-gelert to the summit, being reckoned not less than six miles, and a lady being one of our number, it was thought most eligible for her to ride as far as she could without danger, and for the rest to walk the whole of the way. In this manner therefore, we set out, commencing our mountain journey by turning to the right, from the Caernarvon road, at the distance of about two miles and a half from the village. We left the horse at a cottage, about half way up, from whence taking a bottle of milk to mix with some rum that we had brought along with us, we continued our route over a series of pointed and craggy rocks.
“Stopping at different times to rest, we enjoyed to the utmost the prospects that by degrees were opening round us. Caernarvon and the Isle of Anglesey, aided by the brightness of the morning, were seen to great advantage; and Cwellyn below us, shaded by the vast Mynydd Mawr, with Castell Cidwu at its foot, appeared extremely beautiful.
“In ascending the mountains, which from below seemed of immense height, they began now to appear beneath us; the lakes and valleys were more exposed, and all the little rills and mountain streams by degrees became visible to us, like silver lines intersecting the hollows around. Towards the upper part of the mountain, we passed over a tremendous ridge of rock, called Clawdd Côch, the Red Ridge. This narrow pass, not more than ten or twelve feet across, and two or three hundred yards in length was so steep that the eye reached on each side, down the whole extent of the mountain. And I am persuaded that in some parts of it if a person held a large stone in each hand, and let them both fell at once, each might roll above a quarter of a mile, and thus when they stopped they might be more than half a mile asunder.
“The lady who accompanied us, to my great surprise, passed the ridge without the least apparent signs of fear or trepidation. There is no danger whatever in passing Clawdd Côch in the day-time, but I must confess that I should by no means like to venture along this tract in the night, as many do who have never seen it. If the moon shone very bright, we might, it is true, escape unhurt, but a dark cloud coming suddenly over would certainly expose us to much danger. Many instances have occurred of persons who having passed over it in the night were so terrified at seeing it by daylight the next morning, that they have not dared to return the same way, but have gone a very circuitous round by Bettws. I was informed that one gentleman had been so much alarmed, that he crawled over it back again on his hands and knees. In the hollow on the left of the ascent are four small pools, called Llyn Côch, the red pool; Llyn Glâs, the blue pool; Llyn y Nadroedd, the adder’s pool; and Llyn Ffynnon y Gwâs, the servant’s pool.
“Soon after we had passed Clawdd Côch, we became immersed in light clouds, till we arrived at the summit of the mountain, when a single gleam of sunshine, which lasted but for a moment, presented us with the majestic scenery on the west of our station. It served only, however, to tantalize our hopes; for a smart gust of wind again obscured us in clouds. We now sheltered ourselves from the cold, under some of the projecting rocks near the top, and ate our dinners, watching with anxiety the dark shades in the clouds, in hopes that a separation might take place, and that we should be once more delighted with a sight of the grand objects around us. We did not watch in vain, for the clouds by degrees cleared away, and left us at full liberty to admire the numerous beauties in this expansive scene. The steep rock of Clogwn y Garnedd, whose dreadful precipices are some of them above two hundred yards in perpendicular height, and the whole rock, a series of precipices, was an object which first struck one of my companions with terror, and he exclaimed almost involuntarily,
How fearful
And dizzy ’tis to cast one’s eye so low!
The crows and choughs that wing the mid-way air
Scarce shew so gross as beetles.
“We now stood on a point which commanded the whole dome of the sky. The prospects below, each of which we had before considered separately as a grand scene, were now only miniature parts of the immense landscape. We had around us such a variety of mountains, valleys, lakes, and streams, each receding behind the ether, and bounded only by the far distant horizon, that the eye almost strained itself with looking upon them. These majestic prospects were soon shut from our sight by the gathering clouds, which now began to close in much heavier than they had done before; and it was in vain that we waited near an hour for another opening.
“We were, therefore, at length obliged to descend, in despair of being any more gratified with these sublime prospects. We again passed Clawd Côch, and soon afterwards, turning to the left, descended into the mountain vale, called Cwm Llan. We followed the course of a stream, which flows from thence into Llyn y Dinas, in Nant Gwynant. This little rivulet entertained us much in its descent, being in many places thrown over low rocks, forming small but sometimes elegant cascades. After a walk of two hours, we arrived in Nant Hwynan, the vale that I had traversed with so much pleasure a day or two before; and passing by Llyn y Dinas, and Dinas Emrys, soon afterwards reached Bedd-gelert, not a little fatigued with our mountain ramble.
“I observed near a cottage in Cwm Llan, that several children were employed in gathering the berries of the mountain ash. On inquiring of the guide to what purpose this was done, he informed me that the Welsh people brew from them a liquor which they call Dïod Grïafol. This, he said, was done by merely crushing the berries, and putting water to them, which, after remaining a fortnight, is drawn off for use. The flavour, as I understood him, was somewhat like that of perry.”
ASCENT FROM DOLBADARN.
This account is taken from a small useful publication, entitled “Guide to Bangor, Beaumaris, and Snowdonia,” by Mr. John Smith, of Liverpool. The narrative is written by a friend of Mr. Smith, who, the latter informs us, was a companion of the late lamented Belzoni, and the period when the ascent was performed was the summer of 1825.
“It was about half-past twelve when we left our inn at Dôlbadarn, and I think a more lovely morning we could not be favoured with: nature did indeed seem at rest; not a cloud appeared to move, and a bright and nearly full moon, which had passed the meridian, seemed as if waiting to light us on our way. Our party consisted of three of the ladies, (the fourth not having strength for the task) Mr. M., myself, two gentlemen who joined us at Dôlbadarn, our guide, and his faithful dog. The ladies were furnished with a stout pony each, but the gentlemen preferred climbing on foot the steep ascent, and I believe, before they returned, repented heartily having done so. The guide was equipped with a leathern belt, to which was buckled a tin vessel containing water, and a staff which seemed well worn with the hard service in which it was employed.
“We proceeded across a small rivulet a short distance from the inn, and soon entered on a kind of mountain horse-path, composed of loose slate and stones, of which our pedestrians soon began to be weary. After ascending this about a mile, we arrived at a rough fence of turf and stones, where the road wound round the side of a mountain, and entered a kind of defile, through which we had to proceed. Here our guide desired us to look back at the view beneath us, and when we did so, our feelings and expressions of delight and astonishment were general. Below us, the lake of Llanberis lay stretched like an immense mirror in the shade, with one bright silvery ray resting on its glassy surface, in which part of the steep mountains that surrounded it appeared reflected. To attempt to describe the beautiful and varying tints on those mountains would be as useless a task, as the most vivid colours would be foolishly employed in trying to represent them. In the distance and on our right, Dôlbadarn tower was just visible at the head of the lower lake, and on our left the inn, surrounded with the only trees in the neighbourhood, formed a striking object: we reflected with pleasure, as we looked towards it, that the lady whose health would not allow her to accompany us, was there enjoying a refreshing sleep, and would, when awake, be anxiously waiting for our return, and to hear the various accounts we should give of our expedition.
“We again turned our faces towards Snowdon, on the same road I have before mentioned, and the mild, yet awful and magnificent scene before us afforded abundant themes for conversation and remark. In three or four places light fleecy clouds, edged with silver by the moonbeam, and which at first appeared resting on the sides of the mountains, now seemed to be slowly rolling down their steep sides, and generally mixing with the deep gloom of the valleys below us. Though surrounded by nature’s grandest works, I fancy some of the party were tired even here, as many inquiries had been made relative to the distance we had still to proceed. However, the guide, suddenly stopping, informed us we were now at the ‘half-way house;’ but no house was to be seen, and on looking round for it, we could perceive nothing but a small stream which trickled down the steep, and which replenished our guide’s water vessel, which had been emptied some time before by the continual demands upon it. [384]
“We had proceeded now about three miles, and left our slate road by passing through a small wicket which opened on the heath, near which the sagacity of one of the ponys surprised us. The poor animal was blind, and on arriving within three feet of the wicket, which was open, it drew up, and would not proceed till led through by the bridle. One would fancy it had almost numbered its paces. It is surprising with what safety and agility these animals walk over the steep paths and stones they have to pass; and the guide assured us that he had been in the habit of going with travellers nearly twenty years, and never knew a single accident occasioned by them.
“The soft heath we were now passing was a relief to our feet, though it was so steep that we were sometimes obliged to wait to regain breath. At this time, we were on the top of a hill, which we fancied was the last we had to mount before the peak of Snowdon, and willingly thought the summit of the bold front before us was to be the end of our journey. Thence the way was over a kind of ridge, perhaps forty yards wide, one side of which was perpendicular for several hundred feet, and the other so steep that no one could stop or steady himself upon it. Daylight now began to appear, to show us more distinctly the steeps we were amongst; and, though we well knew the breadth of the ridge was such that there could be no danger, yet I am sure we all felt that unpleasant sensation which few can approach the edge of a precipice without experiencing in some degree. Tremendous gusts of wind, too, which passed the long heath with a singular whizzing noise, giving warning of their approach, and almost blowing us off our feet as they assailed us, did not make any of us feel easier.
“However, we went boldly on without accident, except a hat and bonnet blowing off, which were fortunately recovered, and nearly reached the top of what we had all taken to be our journey’s end, when the guide exclaimed, pointing to a high peak before us, “There is Snowdon top;” and we had the mortification to find that we had still a climbing of three-quarters of a mile before us. This powerfully reminded us of a couplet by Pope:
‘The increasing prospect tires our wandering eyes,
Hills peep o’er hills, and alps on alps arise.’
A few minutes more brought us to a small inclosure of stones, where the horses were put up, as they could proceed no further, and now the ladies were obliged to foot it. Here one of the gentlemen gave in, declaring he would proceed no further, and laid down on the moss, saying he would wait our return. Perhaps a little rest was of service to him, for he afterwards joined us on the top of Snowdon. The road here is along the edge of the steep side of the mountain, which is almost perpendicular, and is broken with large fragments of slate, stone, and spar, of various kinds, to the very summit, which to our great joy, we at last attained about half-past four o’clock. Had we waited for months we could not have had a more beautiful time; as the guide expressed himself, ‘Snowdon has its days, and this is one of them.’ We sat down; in a few minutes the moon, which had so favoured us, declined behind one of the western mountains, and almost at the same instant the red tints on the eastern horizon foretold the approach of the king of day, the effect of whose rising on such a scene as that below and around us, was the most magnificent sight we ever beheld.”
The descent is not related by the writer of the above description. I understand, however, it was merrily performed by all the party, whose fatigue in the expedition well qualified them to feel the luxury of a few hours’ repose at Dôlbadarn.