Several tourists of literary eminence have made the ascent of Cader Idris, and have left on record graphic and animated descriptions of the sublime views which its summit discloses. Mr. Roscoe says—“The following morning promising a fine day, I determined upon making an excursion over Cader Idris. This mountain is one of the most lofty in Wales, and forms a part of the great chain of hills which runs nearly parallel with the coast for many miles, in connection with the Arrans and the Arrenigs, and more inland, towards Corwen, with the Berwyn range. Proceeding over the hill which leads to Towyn, I reached a small lake, and turning to the left, commenced the ascent. After great labour for three or four hours, and consequent fatigue, I reached the summit; and the pool Llyn-y-Cae shewed itself, situated among high rocks, whose weather-beaten cliffs overhang the water; but thick mists, wafted from the sea, prevented an extended view. Mr. Aikin has enriched his narrative with a description of this grand and picturesque scene he witnessed, the following extract from which leaves nothing to be desired:—‘We were now above all the eminences within a vast expanse, and as the clouds gradually cleared away, caught some grand views of the surrounding country. The huge rocks which we before looked up to with astonishment, were now far below our feet, and many a small lake appeared in the valleys between them. To the north, Snowdon and its dependencies shut up the scene; on the west, we saw the whole curve of the bay of Cardigan, bounded at a great distance by the Caernarvon mountains, and nearer, dashing its white breakers against the rocky coast of Merioneth. The southern horizon was bounded by Plinlimmon, the bay of Swansea, the channel, peeping through the opening of the Brecon mountains; and on the east, the eye glanced over the lake of Bala, the two Arrenig mountains, the two Arrans, and the long chain of Berwyn mountains, to the Breiddin hills on the confines of Shropshire. Dimly, in the distant horizon, was beheld the Wrekin, rising alone from the plain of Salop.’
“At the foot of the mountain is the little village of Tal-y-Llyn, which borrows its name from the church at the head of the lake, not unmeetly denominated by the people ‘the Charming Retreat.’ The church, a simple antique building, is dedicated to St. Mary. The parish extends about eight miles, embracing in its circuit a large portion of the mountainous chain. The whole vicinity, wood, and hill, and lake—stirred by the winds, or clothed with the yellow hues of autumn—wore a highly picturesque yet dreary aspect; and I took great delight in exploring a number of bold, romantic streams and falls, all within the limits of this interesting district. Tal-y-Llyn (the Head of the Lake), with its little church, dedicated to St. Mary, stands at the west end of the pool, in a long valley lying below the lofty ranges of Cader Idris. Looking north-east, the vale is contracted by the mountain bases, with their sides broken into a thousand crags, some sharp and conical, and others overhanging, as if ready to fall upon the heedless traveller, who wends his way beneath their shadows. Pen-y-Delyn (or the Harp Rock) is there, bearing a resemblance in its figure to that instrument, with its indented and perforated summit, ready to receive the first breath of the morning, and to herald the rising beam of the great luminary with the fabled music of Memnon; and Llam-y-Ladron too, (or the Thieves’ Leap), the Tarpeian Rock from whose fearful top, it is said, the ancient Britons used to cast their felon brethren.”
Of the heights of Cader Idris, of Arran Vowddwy, and of the Arrenig Vawr, says Mr. Pennant, I am enabled to give a very exact account, by the assistance of the ingenious Mr. M. Hughes, of Bala, who assures me that the Pen-y-Gader is 2858 feet above the level of Dolgelley-green; Arran-Vowddwy, 740 above Llyntegid; and the Arrenig, only 20 yards short of Arran; that the fall from the lake to Dolgelley-green, is 180 yards; so that the real difference of height between the Cader and the Arran is only thirty yards. Two graves, where human bodies were deposited, have lately been discovered at the foot of Cader Idris, under two immense carnedds.
Within the last few years, for the accommodation of visitors, a cottage has been erected on the summit of the mountain, by Richard Pugh, who resides at Dolgelley, and who acts in the capacity of a guide. This has proved of great advantage to visitors, who were not unfrequently assailed by the teeming shower, without an opportunity of shelter; and who had no spot for temporary refreshment while waiting for the dispersion of misty clouds in order to enjoy the exquisite prospect. Here parties or individuals may have all convenient refreshments. The road up the mountain on the Dolgelley side has lately been much improved, so as to enable ladies and gentlemen to ride up to the very top with the greatest ease and safety, which cannot be done on the other side of the mountain without great danger. The charge of the guide for conducting a party to the summit is five shillings, and the same sum is paid for each of the ponies employed in the ascent.
For angling stations, see Dolgelley and Tal-y-Llyn.
CAERGWRLE,
(Flintshire.)
| Chester | 12 |
| Hawarden | 6 |
| Mold | 6 |
| Wrexham | 5 |
Caergwrle was once a flourishing town, but has dwindled into an insignificant village. Its parish church is about a mile distant. There is good reason for believing that Caergwrle was a Roman station, probably an outpost to Deva. Camden discovered here an hypocaust, hewn out of the solid rock, six yards and a quarter long, five yards broad, and somewhat more than half a yard in height. On some of the tiles were inscribed the letters, “Legio xx.” which seem to denote the founders. This is further corroborated by the name of the place, “Caer gawr lleng,” (the camp of the great legion), Cawr lleng being the name by which the Britons distinguished the twentieth legion.
The castle stood on the summit of a high rock. Its present remains are very inconsiderable; they are, however, sufficient to indicate that it never could have been a fortress of any great importance.