The perpendicular height of Snowdon is by late admeasurements 1190 yards above the level of the sea. This makes it, according to Pennant, 240 yards higher than Cader Idris. Some state Whernside, in Yorkshire, to be the highest mountain in South Britain, and more than 4000 feet. Helvelyn is 3324 feet, Benlomond 3262. Mont Blanc rises 15,680 feet; the American Chimboraco is 20,909 feet, the highest ground ever trodden by man; and the mountain of Thibet above 25,000 feet, the highest at present known.
The air on the top of Snowdon is sharp and bracing, and like that in all other mountain districts, is salubrious and congenial to health and longevity. It is seldom that persons who have taste and leisure visit this part of Caernarvonshire without ascending to the top of our British Alps; and those who make a tour from motives of curiosity would think the omission almost inexcusable. An important consideration for the tourist is the point whence he should commence the ascent for the towering summit of this majestic mountain. Dolbadarn, Llyn Cwellyn, Beddgelert, and Llanberis, all put in their claims for eligibility as a starting-place, and at each of these stations trusty guides may be engaged. We are inclined to the opinion that the Victoria Hotel at Llanberis is the spot from which the most easy and convenient ascent may be effected.
It may readily be imagined that every resting point in climbing this commanding eminence must reveal, amidst the magnificent scenery of so romantic a district, views of surpassing grandeur and beauty: and such indeed is the case to an extent which the most vivid imagination can scarcely conceive. The enthusiastic author of “The Beauties, Harmonies, and Sublimity of Nature,” gives the following glowing description of the prospects from the summit:—
“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 Thomson, Virgil, and Lucretius! From this point are seen five-and-twenty lakes. Seated on one of its 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 Westmoreland; those of Ingleborough and Penygent, in the county of York, and the hills of Lancashire forefollow; 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 Llywelyn. 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, ‘Cesar sat upon these crags, when he formed the daring conception of governing the world!’ From Cader Idris, the eye, pursuing the orbit of the bold geographical line, glances over the bay of Cardigan, and reposes for a while on the summit of the Rivals. After observing the indented shores of Caernarvonshire, it travels along a line of ocean, till, in the extremity of the horizon, the blue mountains of Wicklow terminate the perspective. Those mountains gradually sink along the coast till they are lost to the eye; which, ranging along the expanse, at length, as weary of the journey, reposes on the Island of Man, and the distant mountains of Scotland. The intermediate space is occupied by the sides and summits of mountains, hollow crags, masses of rocks, the towers of Caernarvon, the fields of Anglesea, with woods, lakes, and glens, scattered in magnificent confusion. A scene like this commands our feelings to echo, as it were, in unison to its grandeur and sublimity: the thrill of astonishment, and the transport of imagination, seem to contend for the mastery, and nerves are touched that never thrilled before.”
But it is not always thus. Earthly pleasures are often greater in the anticipation than the enjoyment; and ardent hopes are subject to occasional disappointments. Bright as the day may be, mountain mists will sometimes intervene, and passing clouds suddenly draw a curtain over these glorious revelations of Almighty Power. Take, for instance, the narrative of the King of Saxony’s ascent up Snowdon in July, 1844, his Majesty’s excursion being made from Beddgelert:—
“Early this morning, according to our previous design, we made the ascent of Snowdon: the appearance of the weather was by no means encouraging, the sky was lowering, and the clouds hung deep around the mountain top. Still there was no rain, many signs of a favourable change, and we took our chance of the advantages in our favour and set out. We made early preparation for our journey, and, at seven o’clock, mounted a light carriage, accompanied by a skilful guide. We followed the road towards the foot of the mountain, as far up its flank as it was accessible to any description of carriage. We commenced the ascent. Our path lay for some distance over wet pasture and spongy meadows; after which, the path became steeper, and occasional masses of bold projecting rocks occurred. We were not the only travellers, whom the day tempted to try their good fortune on the summit of the highest mountain in England. Some ladies, mounted on ponies, rode sometimes before and sometimes behind us, and several parties followed them on foot. The summit of the mountain lay concealed in clouds; the rocks stood forth bold and black from the green of the Alpine meadows, on which the beautiful yellow anthericum ossifragum grows in great profusion, and a cold wind blew from the ravines which skirted our path. A young Alpine lark, only imperfectly fledged, fluttered along the ground before our feet; our guide easily caught it with his hands, but the old ones flew around, uttering such painful screams, that I induced him again to put the poor panting little creature upon the grass, behind a large block of stone. When we ascended a little further, the view to the westward became partially free, and we saw the sea, the isle of Anglesea, and Caernarvon Castle. As we ascended, however, the clouds again closed around us, and finally we found ourselves completely enveloped in the penetrating fog of these moist goddesses. The ascent also in many places now became difficult; the wind blew cold along the side of some rocky walls, or from the depths of some neighbouring ravine; the thick fogs continued to roll more densely along the mountain sides; but fortunately, so far, they did not thoroughly penetrate our clothes with their moisture.
“Still onward, from height to height! deep ravines lay at our side, the bottom of which, filled with thick fog, yawned horribly below. Vegetation now almost wholly disappeared, except merely a few rare Alpine plants, and on every side of us rose lofty crags of black chlorite slate. Having taken some repose after the efforts of the ascent, behind a projecting rock which sheltered us from the wind, we again set forth, and in about a quarter of an hour (two hours in all) we reached the pinnacle of the mountain—4348 feet above the level of the sea. View there was none! We found refuge in a small wooden shed, erected for the protection of travellers from the rain and wind, in which the host kept up a welcome fire. The man presently prepared a singular brown mixture, which he sold for coffee, and furnished some grayish oatmeal cake as an accompaniment. There were no spirituous liquors of any description to be had, because the occupier, with no small degree of self-satisfaction, gave us to understand that his wooden hut was to be regarded as a Temperance Inn. Not far from this mountain hotel, which I must state to be the first imperfect house of accommodation we had yet met in England, was a small stone hut, in which the rest of the travellers, together with their ponies, had found a harbour not much better than our own.
“Having spent some time upon the summit, dried ourselves, and ranged about among the craggy rocks and through the fog, we found our visit was in vain—no hopes of the weather clearing were longer entertained, and we prepared to proceed on our descent. Before we had descended far from the summit, the clouds presented occasional breaks, and we were able to snatch partial views into the beautiful deep valleys which lie between the converging ridges of the mountain; and on one occasion the clouds rose like a curtain, and revealed to us a splendid prospect of the sea. In these occasional glimpses, we perceived for a moment that the declivities of the mountain were enjoying the full beams of the sun, and immediately we were again closely enveloped in our foggy mantle of clouds. There was a continual play of currents of air and waves of fog with the earth. Such phenomena furnish highly interesting subjects of contemplation to those who have greater leisure for their contemplation than we ourselves had. Of such extraordinary atmospheric phenomena, however, it may be said, they show the life of the clouds, but cloud the image of life! If, however, the observation of such phenomena be made the chief object of a whole excursion, they will be found to have something in them unsatisfying. The unconscious life of nature always falls in value in the eyes of him who has thought upon and experienced the mighty movements and impulses of the mind and feelings. As I have already said, what signify earth, and suns, and planets, if there were no eye to see, no intelligence to give them life?
“Having proceeded somewhat further on the descent, our guide prepared to follow a different route in our return, through a deep precipitous valley, in which the king immediately acquiesced. The task, however, was by no means easy; it involved the necessity of going straight down a sharp declivity of the mountain, at least 1000 feet high, and very sparingly covered with moist earth and tufts of grass. We were obliged to aid ourselves as well as we could by the firmness of our tread, taking a zigzag course, and by the appliances of our hands and sticks, at length reached the bottom in safety. The path, however formidable to us, would, undoubtedly, not have presented many difficulties to a well-trained Alpine hunter; to those, however, who are not accustomed to such clambering, it must be regarded as making a severe demand upon the exercise of their muscular power, and as a species of training which, when successfully completed, must always result in good. Even on reaching the valley, there was no path, and we were obliged to make our way over stock and stone, through bog and brook, till we came to a lower and a smoother region. During our descent, we were obliged to endure the alternative of heat and cold, of sunshine and rain; at length we reached some mines, at which rude paths began to appear, and presently after found ourselves at our carriages, and drove by another road again back to Beddgelert. On this road, too, we enjoyed the sight of some splendid mountain scenery. The weather had now become clear and sunny, while the top of Snowdon still lay thickly enveloped in masses of dark clouds. A small lake lay stretched out before us in the vale, full of picturesque beauty, and noble mountains beside and beyond, rose and towered one above another. I heartily envied an artist who had established his studio on the edge of a mountain brook, and appeared to be diligently engaged in his work. What a pleasure it must be, to be engaged in an attempt to give a faithful delineation of such noble forms! About half-past two we reached the hotel at Beddgelert, and our mountain excursion was at an end.”
Let us be very earnest in impressing upon the minds of all tourists one important injunction,—never ascend Snowdon without a guide. It is unwise and perilous, even in the brightest weather, to make such an attempt. A melancholy instance of this venturous spirit occurred in the autumn of 1846, when the Rev. H. S. Starr, of Northampton, ascended the mountain without a guide; and doubtless perished in some of its bogs or precipitous defiles, as from that period till now, no trace of this unfortunate clergyman has been discovered.
For Angling Stations, see Llanberis.
TAL-Y-LLYN,
(Merionethshire.)
| Dolgelley | 8 |
| Dinas Mowddwy | 11 |
| Machynlleth | 8 |
| Towyn | 10 |