“The soft heath we were now passing was a relief to our feet, though it was so steep that we were sometimes obliged to wait to regain breath. At this time, we were on the top of a hill, which we fancied was the last we had to mount before the peak of Snowdon, and willingly thought the summit of the bold front before us was to be the end of our journey. Thence the way was over a kind of ridge, perhaps forty yards wide, one side of which was perpendicular for several hundred feet, and the other so steep that no one could stop or steady himself upon it. Daylight now began to appear, to show us more distinctly the steeps we were amongst; and, though we well knew the breadth of the ridge was such that there could be no danger, yet I am sure we all felt that unpleasant sensation which few can approach the edge of a precipice without experiencing in some degree. Tremendous gusts of wind, too, which passed the long heath with a singular whizzing noise, giving warning of their approach, and almost blowing us off our feet as they assailed us, did not make any of us feel easier.
“However, we went boldly on without accident, except a hat and bonnet blowing off, which were fortunately recovered, and nearly reached the top of what we had all taken to be our journey’s end, when the guide exclaimed, pointing to a high peak before us, “There is Snowdon top;” and we had the mortification to find that we had still a climbing of three-quarters of a mile before us. This powerfully reminded us of a couplet by Pope:
‘The increasing prospect tires our wandering eyes,
Hills peep o’er hills, and alps on alps arise.’
A few minutes more brought us to a small inclosure of stones, where the horses were put up, as they could proceed no further, and now the ladies were obliged to foot it. Here one of the gentlemen gave in, declaring he would proceed no further, and laid down on the moss, saying he would wait our return. Perhaps a little rest was of service to him, for he afterwards joined us on the top of Snowdon. The road here is along the edge of the steep side of the mountain, which is almost perpendicular, and is broken with large fragments of slate, stone, and spar, of various kinds, to the very summit, which to our great joy, we at last attained about half-past four o’clock. Had we waited for months we could not have had a more beautiful time; as the guide expressed himself, ‘Snowdon has its days, and this is one of them.’ We sat down; in a few minutes the moon, which had so favoured us, declined behind one of the western mountains, and almost at the same instant the red tints on the eastern horizon foretold the approach of the king of day, the effect of whose rising on such a scene as that below and around us, was the most magnificent sight we ever beheld.”
The descent is not related by the writer of the above description. I understand, however, it was merrily performed by all the party, whose fatigue in the expedition well qualified them to feel the luxury of a few hours’ repose at Dôlbadarn.
PROSPECT FROM THE SUMMIT.
In the foregoing descriptions by three of our most respectable tourists, sufficient is contained to afford the traveller a tolerably good idea of the nature of the ascent to the top of Snowdon; and we shall only add the subjoined animated description of a view from its summit, by the author of the “Beauties, Harmonies, and Sublimities of Nature.”
“After climbing over masses of crags and rocks, we ascended the peak of Snowdon. Arrived at its summit, a scene presented itself, magnificent beyond the powers of language! Indeed, language is indigent and impotent when it would presume to sketch scenes on which the Great Eternal has placed his matchless finger with delight. Faint are thy broad and deep delineations, immortal Salvator Rosa! Powerless and feeble are your inspirations, genius of Thompson, Virgil, and Lucretius!
“From this point are seen five-and-twenty lakes.—Seated on one of the crags, it was long before the eye, unaccustomed to measure such elevations, could accommodate itself to scenes so admirable:—the whole appearing as if there had been a war of the elements; and as if we were the only inhabitants of the globe permitted to contemplate the ruins of the world. Rocks and mountains, which when observed from below, bear all the evidence of sublimity, when viewed from the summit of Snowdon, are blended with others as dark, as rugged, and as elevated as themselves; the whole resembling the swellings of an agitated ocean.
“The extent of this prospect appears almost unlimited. The four kingdoms are seen at once: Wales, England, Scotland, and Ireland! forming the finest panorama the empire can boast. The circle begins with the mountains of Cumberland and Westmorland; those of Ingleborough and Penygent, in the county of York, and the hills of Lancashire follow; then are observed the counties of Chester, Flint, Denbigh, and a portion of Montgomeryshire. Nearly the whole of Merioneth succeeds; and drawing a line with the eye along the diameter of the circle, we take in the regions stretching from the triple crown of Cader Idris to the sterile crags of Carnedds-David and Llewellyn. Snowdon, rising in the centre, appears as if he could touch the south with his right hand, and the north with his left. ‘Surely,’ thought Colonna, ‘Cæsar sat upon these crags when he formed the daring conception of governing the world!’