commanding a most splendid view of the lakes of Nantlle, including the floating island, mentioned by Camden, the sea being also visible at a distance. Here King Edward is said to have encamped his army in his last expedition into Wales, when he completed the subjugation of the country.
Beddgelert is now a thoroughfare, with a good road from Caernarvon to Dolgelly, Welsh Pool, Shrewsbury, Bishop’s Castle, Ludlow, and Worcester; it is therefore a most convenient station from whence to make excursions to some of the most interesting scenery in North Wales, among the first of which is the ascent of the mighty and once wood-covered Snowdon.
How often has the idea of this stupendous mountain filled my heart with enthusiastic rapture! Every time I cast my eyes on that solemn, that majestic vision, it is not without the most powerful emotion; it excites that tender melancholy, which exalts rather than depresses the mind! How delightful to bid adieu to all the cares and occupations of the world, for the reflection of those scenes of sublimity and grandeur, which form such a contrast to the transientness of sublunary greatness! With what anxiety have we watched the setting sun, loitering just below the horizon, and illuminating the highest summit of Snowdon with a golden tinge; and we still watch the passing clouds of night, fearing lest the morning should prove unfavourable for our Alpine excursion!
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:”