LLYN TEGID, OR BALA LAKE.
Seated upon a rock that projects into the lake (under the shadow of which is the boat-house of Mr. Price, of Rhiwlas,) I commenced my solitary pastime; but my eyes continually wandered from the float to the surrounding scenery, which is of a pleasing rather than an imposing nature. The lake was slightly ruffled by a refreshing breeze, which fortunately sprang up, and prevented me from dissolving in the heat of the sun. It is about four miles in length, and in some parts it is forty yards in depth. The shores are sloping, the soil gravelly, and delightfully variegated with plantations of trees and shrubs. Towards the head of the lake the mountains are upon a very grand scale, and rival Snowdon in their altitude; Arran Vowddwy is the loftiest of these, near the summit of which, upon its eastern side, beneath a huge crag, is situated a lake, which affords excellent sport to the angler, although the fish are not of the finest quality.
Arrenig Vawr, (or great,) which is nearly as lofty as Arran Vowddwy, and rises upon the N.W. side of the Llyn, has also a lake, containing trout of a large size, which are noted for rejecting the artificial fly; but, about half way up the Arrenig Vâch, (or little,) is a lake, which, when a light breeze sweeps along its surface, will amply reward the angler for his trouble in reaching it. A morning and an evening, at each of these places, enable me to state thus much, for the benefit of the disciples of Izaac Walton.
I was suddenly aroused from a dream of pleasure, which I was enjoying with my eyes open, by a tug at my line, reminding me that a fish had swallowed the hook. After a little coquetting, which lovers usually make use of, I brought it to my arms, and then thrust it into my bag: a fine perch! I now resolved to begin in earnest, and in an hour, by my temptation and insinuation, contrived to obtain a very handsome dish, with which I returned upon my pony to the inn, resigning them and myself to the care of mine hostess.
The town of Bala consists of one long street, has about 2500 inhabitants, and is celebrated for its manufacture of woollen articles, such as stockings, gloves, and formerly Welsh wigs. Upon an eminence at the S.E. end of the town, the old women and young girls assemble in considerable numbers, during the summer months, to pursue their industrious avocations in the open air. The mound is called Tommen y Bala; it is said to be of Roman construction, and from the summit a very fine view may be obtained of Llyn Tegid and the mountains. There is a town hall, and a chapel of ease to the parish church at Llanycil, about a mile distant, where the morning service is read in English only upon the first Sunday in each month.
Rising early the following morning I found no inconvenience from my ancle, and after a good breakfast took leave of my host and his wife, both of whom appeared anxious to see me comfortably seated in the vehicle.
The car in which I was bumped along the road, in every respect resembled those delightful conveyances that rattle the astonished traveller from Cork to Blarney. It is a sort of oval box, placed upon two wheels, with a door behind, and with good wedging will contain four persons; but being springless and cushionless, the passenger is jolted to his heart’s content, that is, if his heart has been set on jolting; and, without doubt, it is fine exercise for persons of sedentary habits, if by any chance, their bones happen to escape dislocation. My knapsack (my opposite, and only fellow passenger) and I, looked very black at each other, as we bobbed up and down, like a cockney grocer’s apprentice upon a high trotting horse; but I soon became resigned, and my knapsack having shifted its berth for the bottom of the vehicle, seemed to rest more comfortably than on the seat. Notwithstanding the inconvenience I suffered from this carriage, I could not help admiring the extreme beauty of the lake, as we pursued our course along its borders; sometimes only catching a glimpse of it through the trees that shaded its delightful margin. Its waters were smooth and motionless; not a ripple was visible upon its surface; the lofty mountains reflected in its breast gave a sombre tinge to the otherwise golden scene, and as I looked into the clear depths of the shadows, I thought how peacefully one shattered by the storms of life might sink beneath, and be at rest!
After passing Glan y Llyn (an estate belonging to Sir W. W. Wynn, who claims the whole fishing of this beautiful piece of water, and has, by putting a quantity of pike therein, destroyed all the trout and gwynniad with which it once abounded) the scenery became wild, and cheerless, until we reached