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.