I was suddenly aroused from a dream of pleasure, which I was enjoying with my eyes open, by a tug at my line, reminding me that a fish had swallowed the hook. After a little coquetting, which lovers usually make use of, I brought it to my arms, and then thrust it into my bag: a fine perch! I now resolved to begin in earnest, and in an hour, by my temptation and insinuation, contrived to obtain a very handsome dish, with which I returned upon my pony to the inn, resigning them and myself to the care of mine hostess.
The town of Bala consists of one long street, has about 2500 inhabitants, and is celebrated for its manufacture of woollen articles, such as stockings, gloves, and formerly Welsh wigs. Upon an eminence at the S.E. end of the town, the old women and young girls assemble in considerable numbers, during the summer months, to pursue their industrious avocations in the open air. The mound is called Tommen y Bala; it is said to be of Roman construction, and from the summit a very fine view may be obtained of Llyn Tegid and the mountains. There is a town hall, and a chapel of ease to the parish church at Llanycil, about a mile distant, where the morning service is read in English only upon the first Sunday in each month.
Rising early the following morning I found no inconvenience from my ancle, and after a good breakfast took leave of my host and his wife, both of whom appeared anxious to see me comfortably seated in the vehicle.
The car in which I was bumped along the road, in every respect resembled those delightful conveyances that rattle the astonished traveller from Cork to Blarney. It is a sort of oval box, placed upon two wheels, with a door behind, and with good wedging will contain four persons; but being springless and cushionless, the passenger is jolted to his heart’s content, that is, if his heart has been set on jolting; and, without doubt, it is fine exercise for persons of sedentary habits, if by any chance, their bones happen to escape dislocation. My knapsack (my opposite, and only fellow passenger) and I, looked very black at each other, as we bobbed up and down, like a cockney grocer’s apprentice upon a high trotting horse; but I soon became resigned, and my knapsack having shifted its berth for the bottom of the vehicle, seemed to rest more comfortably than on the seat. Notwithstanding the inconvenience I suffered from this carriage, I could not help admiring the extreme beauty of the lake, as we pursued our course along its borders; sometimes only catching a glimpse of it through the trees that shaded its delightful margin. Its waters were smooth and motionless; not a ripple was visible upon its surface; the lofty mountains reflected in its breast gave a sombre tinge to the otherwise golden scene, and as I looked into the clear depths of the shadows, I thought how peacefully one shattered by the storms of life might sink beneath, and be at rest!
After passing Glan y Llyn (an estate belonging to Sir W. W. Wynn, who claims the whole fishing of this beautiful piece of water, and has, by putting a quantity of pike therein, destroyed all the trout and gwynniad with which it once abounded) the scenery became wild, and cheerless, until we reached
THE VALE OF DRWS Y NANT,
where, to my great satisfaction, the car stopped at the sign of the Welsh Prince, a distance of ten miles from Bala, and eight from Dolgelley. Being thoroughly tired with my ride, I thought I would endeavour to obtain the proper use of my limbs, and rest myself by walking the remainder of the journey. Dismissing the car, therefore, and strapping my knapsack to my shoulders, I once more took the road.
About a mile beyond the Welsh Prince the valley becomes truly beautiful. Waving woods adorn the mountains upon either side. The Wnion here begins to be an important stream; and, though in its course towards Dolgelley it is swelled by numerous mountain tributaries into a broad river, the trees upon its banks form an impenetrable screen, which conceal it from the traveller, and its hoarse murmur, as it dashes over the rocks that vainly endeavour to intercept its way, alone remind him of its vicinity. At length I arrived at a spot where a road leads over a bridge to the opposite side of the river. Thinking this would be a proper place to see the Wnion to advantage, I advanced to the centre of the bridge. The effect is beautiful; hanging woods adorn the banks of the stream, lofty-ash trees (around the trunks of which the ivy winds itself in snakelike folds, feeding upon the tree that supports it), spread their proud heads above, and form a pleasing shade, while below the river roars, as it is precipitated beneath the arch in two large falls, that form a deep pool on the opposite side.
Nearly the whole of this lovely valley is the property of Sir Robert Vaughan. Pursuing my journey towards Dolgelley, a sudden turn in the road and an opening in the dell revealed to my delighted eyes the celebrated mountain called Cader Idris.