Seas must be crossed, and miles of dreary and uninteresting country traversed, in wandering from one grand object to another in the former; while, in the route here represented to the Public—within the reach of all—repose and admiration charm the heart by turns, in the rich fertile valleys, lofty and wood-clad hills, or heather-mantled mountains, of North Wales. The traveller is likewise insured the comfort of a good inn, where he may rest his wearied limbs after a day’s ramble in whatever part of the district he chooses to select for his excursion; and the healthy and active should decidedly make use of their limbs, to bear them through this tour, in preference to the more easy and luxurious vehicle, and even to the equestrian mode of conveyance. A good horsewoman may venture into the dark defiles, or climb the craggy heights upon the ponies, which are always in readiness at the inns for that purpose; but between a man and his steed there will most assuredly be a strong feeling of sympathy created by a conviction that the one is a most unnecessary burthen to the other.
The peasantry are simple, honest, and obliging; and, as they trudge along, a spirit of freedom sparkles in their eyes, and seems to animate every action of their unfettered limbs. Though their fare is humble, they enjoy it with an appetite to which the bracing air of their hills, and their happy ignorance of luxuries, gives an enviable zest. Drunkenness is a vice almost unknown among these primitive mountaineers: milk is their common beverage, oatmeal cakes, and potatoes, with a plentiful supply of trout from their native streams, form their chief summer food; while, in winter, dry salted beef and mutton serve to satisfy their utmost wishes.
“Though poor the peasant’s hut, his feasts tho’ small,
He sees his little lot the lot of all.* * * *
Dear is that shed to which his soul conforms,
And dear that hill which lifts him to the storms.
And, as a child, when scaring sounds molest,
Clings close and closer to the mother’s breast,
So the loud torrent, and the whirlwind’s roar,
But bind him to his native mountains more.”
DIRECTIONS
TO THOSE UNACQUAINTED WITH THE WELSH LANGUAGE.
A knowledge of the Welsh alphabet is indispensable to those who are desirous of correctly pronouncing the necessary questions and answers that transpire upon the road. The names of places must effectually puzzle any tourist, who is not acquainted with the peculiar sound of each letter particularly where there are many consonants in a word. In order, therefore, to aid the traveller in Wales, I have selected the following rules.
In the Welsh alphabet there are no mutes; and all letters that are circumflex must be pronounced long, as
Bôn like the English bone.
Bin, as been.
C, always as K in English.
Ch, is pronounced as the Greek Χ.