The country from Dolgelley to the mouth of the river is well worth a journey of three hundred miles to visit, even though there were no other objects worthy of notice in North Wales, and will amply compensate the most eager researcher after the sublime and beautiful.
At a turn of the coach road from a place called Ty-gwyn, a splendid view of Cader Idris is obtained, particularly in the evening, when the mists arise from the numerous lakes in the vicinity, like volumes of smoke from a domain of fire, curling in fantastic forms around the mountain’s waist, leaving its summit stern and clear in an unclouded sky—like a proud giant surveying with disdain the dwarfish host of which he is the leader.
Another noble view attracts attention, at a place called Glan Mawddach—the broad arm of the sea, stretching for miles between the rugged mountains, which, shrouded in veils of silvery mist, fling their dark shadows into the depths of the water. Arriving at
BARMOUTH,
the coach stopped at the Corsygedol Arms; but I proceeded to the Commercial Inn, where there is very good accommodation, and a good look-out seaward. A warm bath of sea water refreshed me; and by the star light I strolled upon the sands, which are very hard and pleasant to walk upon, while my repast was preparing at the inn. The night was calm and serene, and my mind naturally adapted itself to the surrounding scene. “The brave o’erhanging firmament—the majestical roof fretted with golden fire,” appeared to me far from being “a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours.” My soul took wing, and bounded from star to star, leaping the realms of space, and plunging into infinity, till wearied with its immeasurable flight, it resought its earthly tenement, and my body, which it left immoveable, as if transformed to marble, resumed its functions. The low moan of the ocean swam on my ear, like heavenly music. A light breeze brought with it delicious freshness; and, as I looked towards the land, all seemed as quiet as the abode of peace. The lights from the houses had a pleasing effect, as they streamed through the windows, row above row, under and upon the side of the overhanging cliffs.
I returned to “mine inn,” and my meal being despatched, retired to bed.
CHAPTER IV.
Description of Barmouth.—Sketch of the Town.—The Estuary.—Friar’s Island,—Dinas Gortin.—Earl of Richmond.—Anecdote of the Men of Ardudwy, and the Men of Denbighshire.—Corsygedol Hall.—A Pic-nic Party.—Llyn Cwm Bychan.—Carreg y Saeth.—Bwlch Tyddiad.—A Mountain Ride and a Regretful Farewell.
“The mountayne men live longer many a year
Then those in vale, in plaine, or marrish soyle;
A lustie hart, a cleene complexion cleere,
They have on hill that for hard living toyle;
With ewe and lambe, with goats and kinds they play,
In greatest toyles to rub out wearie day;
And when to house and home good fellowes draw,
The lads can laugh at turning of a strawe.”Churchyard.
Barmouth, or Aber-Maw, derives its name from being situated at the embouchure of the river Maw or Mawddach, which at the entrance is obstructed by a bar. The old town, viewed from the sea, resembles a fortress of some strength, hanging immediately over the sands. In most cases a lofty situation is an advantage, but here it is the reverse; for so steep is the side of the cliff on which it stands, that the inhabitants of the upper regions are completely smoke-dried from the chimneys of all the dwellings beneath.