It is advisable for all travellers, pedestrians not excepted, to leave Dolgelly at high water, as without that the scenery loses much of its beauty; if convenient, it is certainly preferable to hire a boat at the Stoves; the charge is three shillings and sixpence; by this you will save a walk of eight miles, and both from your situation, and from being more at your ease, will better admit of your observing the surrounding scenery, with which you cannot fail to be highly gratified.
This short excursion of eight miles is truly grand, awful, and sublime; and, though many parts of this striking valley are richly cultivated, yet, by the side of the road, enormous mountains, formed into the most capricious shapes, shoot into the clouds, sometimes projecting so far over the road, as seemingly designing to impede our farther progress: the wide expanse of the ocean in front, with the arm of the sea running up the country in the centre of the valley; in fine, the tout ensemble claimed our highest admiration.
Barmouth, though considered as a bathing-place, is very inferior to Tenby, yet its situation for grandeur of rocks has been frequently compared by many tourists to Gibraltar, and by others esteemed not unlike St. Kitts, in the West Indies. The vast sand-banks, formed by the tides, immediately in front of the town, are the only barriers which protect it from the inundations of the sea. The shore is extremely level, and affords, for many miles, excellent riding.
Barmouth is the only port in the county of Merioneth; but the entrance to it is difficult. The town is built on ledges of rock, one rising above another, so that the inhabitants of one street look down upon the chimnies of that which is before them.
The board and lodging is regulated on the same excellent plan here as at Tenby, with very little difference in respect to the expense. We could not avoid observing the number of pigs, which are esteemed in this part of the country far superior to any in England, lying in every corner of the street; and these pigs, I rather imagine, consider themselves, during the night, inmates of the peasant’s cottage: yet these hardships, if they may be distinguished by that name, the inhabitants of the hovel suffer without complaint, and deem themselves perfectly happy as long as they possess a pile of turf to keep off the inclemency of the winter’s blast, a small strip of ground well stocked with potatoes, some poultry, and a fat pig: one hovel, however, protects them all. Though, to appearance, their situation is most miserable, yet it has no effect on their tempers and dispositions; their hospitality, and indeed kindness, towards strangers in distress, is an interesting trait in their character: to instance this, I am induced to mention an anecdote which took place at Hubberstone, not long ago. A lady, anxiously waiting the arrival of her husband from Ireland, at the miserable village of Hubberstone, soon interested even the meaner inhabitants of the place in her behalf; who, willing to render her situation as comfortable as possible, seemed to vie with each other in producing the most delicious fruits, and the choicest garlands of flowers, to present them to the unhappy consort; and, not content alone with this, she was generally greeted in the streets, with the phrase, “There goes poor Mrs. L—.” The lady, at last, impatient for the arrival of her husband, determined to sail for Ireland. The faithfulness of the little group that accompanied her to the shore can better be imagined than described; the last farewell, with tears of artless innocence, and the beseeching that Providence “who governs the waves, and stills the raging of the sea,” to grant her a prosperous voyage, all this seemed to come so thoroughly from the bottom of their hearts, that we cannot avoid feeling ourselves interested in their behalf.
The road from hence to
HARLECH
is stony and uninteresting; to the left, an unbounded view of the wide ocean; and, in front, the steep mountains of North Wales rose in endless perspective. About four miles from Barmouth, we passed the two lodges at Tal-y-bont, leading to Corsy-Gedol, the seat of Sir Thomas Mostyn. It is practicable to go by the sands; but we were given to understand that the turnpike road was, if anything, shorter, the scenery more pleasing, and the guides necessary for crossing those dangerous sands, in general, most complete villains.
Harlech, anciently called Twr-Bronwen, though formed by King Edward I. into a borough, can now be esteemed little more than a dirty village: the present castle, one of the most entire in Wales, is founded on a very high rock, projecting into the Irish sea. It consists of a square building, each side measuring about seventy yards, having at every corner a round tower. From each of these issued formerly a round turret, except one or two, all now destroyed. The fortifications, fosses, and its situation on the verge of a perpendicular rock, rendered it almost invulnerable.
This castle is one of the strongest and handsomest in Wales. It is in the possession of the Crown, and in time of war has a small garrison for the defence of the coast. From the top of the walls to the marsh the height is very considerable, and from thence the bay of Cardigan is seen to great advantage: in addition to this, the shagged summits of Cader Buchan and Snowdon, in Caernarvonshire, being enveloped in clouds, appear scarcely visible.