“This space between precipice and precipice formed a short and no very agreeable isthmus, till we reached a verdant expanse which gave us some respite before we laboured up another series of broken crags; after these is a second smooth tract, which reaches almost to the summit, and by way of pre-eminence is styled Y Wyddfa, or The Conspicuous. It rises almost to a point, or at least there is but room for a circular wall of loose stones, within which travellers usually take their repast.
“The view from this exalted situation is unbounded. In a former tour I saw from it the hills of Yorkshire, part of the north of England, Scotland, and Ireland; a plain view of the Isle of Man, and that of Anglesey lay extended like a map beneath me with every rill visible. I took much pains to see this prospect to advantage, sat up at a farm on the west till about twelve, and walked up the whole way. The night was remarkably fine and starry: towards morn, the stars faded away, and left a short interval of darkness, which soon dispersed by the dawning of the day. The body of the sun appeared most distinct with the rotundity of the moon, before it rose high enough to render its beams too brilliant for our sight. The sea which bounded the western part was gilt by its rays, first in slender streaks, at length glowing with redness. The prospect was disclosed like the gradual drawing up of a curtain in a theatre. We saw more and more till the heat became so powerful as to attract the mists from the various lakes, which in a slight degree obscured the prospect. The shadow of the mountain was flung many miles, and shewed its bicapitated form; the Wyddfa making one, Crib y Dysdyll the other head. I counted this time between twenty and thirty lakes either in this county, or Merionethshire. The day proved so excessively hot, that my journey cost me the skin of the lower part of my face before I reached the resting place.”
At another visit, the same celebrated traveller remarks—“On this day, the sky was obscured very soon after I got up; a vast mist enveloped the whole circuit of the mountain; the prospect down was horrible. It gave an idea of numbers of abysses concealed by a thick smoke, furiously circulating round us. Very often a gust of wind formed an opening in the clouds, which gave a fine and distinct view of lake and valley. Sometimes, they opened only in one place, at others in many at once, exhibiting a most strange and perplexing view of water, fields, rocks or chasms, in fifty different places. They then closed at once, and left us involved in darkness; in a short time, they would separate again, and fly in wild eddies round the middle of the mountains, and expose in parts both tops and bases clear to our view. We descended from this various scene with great reluctance, but before we reached our horses a thunder storm overtook us. Its rolling among the mountains was inexpressibly awful, the rain uncommonly heavy. We remounted our horses, and gained the bottom with great hazard. The little rills which on our ascent trickled along the gullies on the sides of the mountain, were now swelled into torrents, and we and our steeds passed with the utmost risk of being swept away by these sudden waters. At length, we arrived safe, yet sufficiently wet and weary, to our former quarters.
“It is very seldom that the traveller gets a propitious day to ascend Snowdon; for often when it appears clear, it becomes suddenly and unexpectedly enveloped in mist by its attraction of clouds, which just before seemed remote and at great heights. At times, I have observed them lower to half their heights, and notwithstanding they have been dispersed to the right and to the left, yet they have met from both sides and united to involve the summit in one great obscurity. The quantity of water which flows from the lakes of Snowdonia is very considerable; so much, that I doubt not but collectively they would exceed the waters of the Thames before it meets the conflux of the ocean.”
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,