forth; the bogs, however, still rendered it extremely unpleasant. But
this inconvenience was only temporary; we soon came to a part of the
mountain entirely composed of loose stones and fragments of rock, which
affording only a very treacherous footing, you are liable to perpetual
falls. The mountain now became much steeper, the path less rocky, and
our mountaineer, the higher we proceeded, more induced to exhibit feats
of his agility, by occasionally running down a short precipice, and then,
by a loud shout of vociferation, shewing us the obedience of the sheep,
who instantaneously flocked around him at the sound of his voice: it is
singular, the caution implanted in this animal, by instinct, for the
mutual protection of each other; from the liberty they enjoy, they seldom
congregate in one flock, but are generally discovered grazing in parties
from six to a dozen, one of which is regularly appointed centinel, to
watch the motions of their inveterate enemies (foxes and birds of prey),
which infest this mountain. A wider expanse of the hemisphere disclosed
itself, and every object below us gradually diminished as we ascended.
The freshness of the mountain whetted our appetites; and our conductor,
with very little persuasion, soon influenced us to open our little basket
of provisions. The sun, the “rich-hair’d youth of morn,” was just
peeping from his bed; and having refreshed ourselves, with eager
impatience, we again climbed the rugged precipice; for we had still a
considerable height to ascend. We now passed several steep declivities
by a narrow path not more than three yards wide, with a dreadful
perpendicular on each side, the sight of which almost turned us giddy.
As we were passing this hazardous path, a thick mist enveloped us, and an
impenetrable abyss appeared on both sides; the effect, indeed, can
scarcely be conceived; our footing, to us, puisne mountaineers, seemed
very insecure; and a total destruction would have been the consequence of
one false step. The air grew intensely cold, and, by our guide’s
recommendation, we a second time produced our pistol of rum, diluted with
milk; but this cordial must be used with caution, as a very small
quantity of strong liquor affects the head, owing to the rarefaction of
the air. On our reaching the summit, all our difficulties were
forgotten, and our imaginary complaints overborne with exclamations of
wonder, surprise, and admiration. The light, thin, misty cloud, which
had for some time enveloped us, as if by enchantment, suddenly dispersed;
the whole ocean appeared illuminated by a fiery substance, and all the
subject hills below us, for they resembled mole-hills, were gradually
tinged by the rich glow of the sun; whose orb becoming at length
distinctly visible, displayed the whole island of Anglesea so distinctly,
that we descried, as in a map, its flat and uncultivated plains, bounded
by the rich and inexhaustible Parys mountains, in the vicinity of
Holyhead. The point on which we were standing did not exceed a square of
five yards, and we sickened almost at the sight of the steep precipices
which environed us; round it is a small parapet, formed by the customary
tribute of all strangers, who visit this summit, and to which we likewise
contributed, by placing a large stone on its top; this parapet, indeed,
sheltered us from the chilly cold, and protected us from the piercing
wind, to which this height must naturally be exposed.
We remained in this situation for a considerable time, and endeavoured,
without success, to enumerate the several lakes, forests, woods, and
counties, which were exposed to us in one view; but lost and confounded
with the innumerable objects worthy of admiration, and regardless of the
chilling cold, we took a distinct survey of the Isle of Man, together
with a faint prospect of the Highlands in Ireland, which appeared just
visibly skirting the distant horizon; but another object soon engrossed
all our attention:
“The wide, the unbounded prospect lay before us;
But shadows, clouds, and darkness, rest upon it:”
For we unexpectedly observed long billows of vapour tossing about, half
way down the mountain, totally excluding the country below, and
occasionally dispersing, and partially revealing, its features; while
above, the azure expanse of the heavens remained unobscured by the
thinnest mist. This, however, was of no long continuance: a thick cloud
presently wet us through; and the point on which we were standing could
alone be distinguished. As there appeared little or no chance of the
clouds dispersing, we soon commenced our descent. Respecting this Alpine
excursion, suffice it to say, that though our expectations were raised
exceedingly high, it infinitely surpassed all conception, and baffled all
description; for no colour of language can paint the grandeur of the
rising sun, observed from this eminence, or describe the lakes, woods,
and forests, which are extended before you; for description, though it
enumerates their names, yet it cannot draw the elegance of outline,
cannot give the effect of precipices, or delineate the minute features,
which reward the actual observer, at every new choice of his position;
and, by changing their colour and form in his gradual ascent, till at
last every object dwindles into atoms: in short, this interesting
excursion, which comprehends every thing that is awful, grand, and
sublime, producing the most pleasing sensations, has left traces in the
memory which the imagination will ever hold dear.
The view from the summit of Snowdon is thus described by the author of
the Beauties, Harmonies, and Sublimities of Nature.
“After climbing over masses of crags and rocks, we ascended the peak
of Snowdon, the height of which is 3571 feet above the level of the
Irish Sea. 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 more than five-and-twenty lakes. Seated on
one of the 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 evidences 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 Llewelyn. 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, ‘Cæsar 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 outline, glances over the bay of Cardigan, and reposes
for a while on the summit of the Rivel. After observing the indented
shores of Caernarvonshire, it travels over a long 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 admiration seem to contend for the mastery; and nerves
are touched that never thrilled before. We seem as if our former
existence were annihilated; and as if a new epoch were commenced.
Another world opens upon us; and an unlimited orbit appears to
display itself, as a theatre for our ambition.”
The first two miles of our descent we by no means found difficult, but
wishing to take a minute survey of the picturesque Pass of Llanberris, we
changed the route generally prescribed to strangers, and descended a
rugged and almost perpendicular path, in opposition to the proposals of
our guide, who strenuously endeavoured to dissuade us from the attempt;
alleging the difficulty of the steep, and relating a melancholy story of
a gentleman, who many years back had broken his leg. This had no effect:
we determined to proceed; and the vale of Llanberris amply rewarded us
for the trouble.
Mr. Williams, of Llandegai, in his observations on the Snowdon mountains
(which, from his having been a resident on the spot, may be considered as
entitled to the greatest credit,) makes the following remarks on the
probable derivation of their names, and the customs and manners of their
inhabitants.
“It would be endless to point out the absurd conjectures and
misrepresentations of those who have of late years undertaken to describe
this country. Some give manifestly wrong interpretations of the names of
places, and others, either ignorantly or maliciously, have as it were
caricatured its inhabitants. Travellers from England, often from want of
candour, and always from defect of necessary knowledge, impose upon the
world unfavourable as well as false accounts of their fellow-subjects in
Wales; yet the candour of the Welsh is such, that they readily ascribe
such misrepresentations to an ignorance of their language, and a
misconception of the honest, though perhaps warm temper of those that
speak it. And it may be, travellers are too apt to abuse the Welsh,
because they cannot or will not speak English. _Their ignorance ought
not to incur disgust_: _their reluctance proceeds not from stubbornness_,
_but from diffidence_, _and the fear of ridicule_.
“NATIVES OF ERYRI.
“The inhabitants of the British mountains are so humane and hospitable,
that a stranger may travel amongst them without incurring any expense for
diet or lodging. Their fare an Englishman may call coarse; however, they
commonly in farm-houses have three sorts of bread, namely, wheat, barley,
and oatmeal; but the oatmeal they chiefly use; this, with milk, butter,
cheese, and potatoes, is their chief summer food. They have also plenty
of excellent trout, which they eat in its season. And for the winter
they have dry salted beef, mutton, and smoked rock venison, which they
call _Côch ar Wyden_, i.e. _The Red upon the Withe_, being hung by a
withe, made of a willow or hazel twig. They very seldom brew ale, except
in some of the principal farm-houses: having no corn of their own
growing, they think it a superfluous expense to throw away money for malt
and hops, when milk, or butter-milk mixed with water, quenches the thirst
as well.
“They are hardy and very active; but they have not the perseverance and
resolution which are necessary for laborious or continued undertakings,
being, from their infancy, accustomed only to ramble over the hills after
their cattle. In summer they go barefoot, but seldom barelegged, as has
been lately asserted by a traveller. They are shrewd and crafty in their
bargains, and jocular in their conversation; very sober, and great
economists; though a late tourist has given them a different character.
Their greetings, when they meet any one of their acquaintance, may to
some appear tedious and disagreeable: their common mode of salutation is
‘How is thy heart? how the good wife at home, the children, and the rest
of the family?’ and that often repeated. When they meet at a
public-house, they will drink each other’s health, or the health of him
to whom the mug goes at every round. They are remarkably honest.
“Their courtships, marriages, &c. differ in nothing from what is
practised on these occasions among the lowlanders or other Welsh people;
but as there are some distinct and local customs in use in North Wales,
not adopted in other parts of Great Britain, I shall, by way of novelty,
relate a few of them:—When Cupid lets fly his shaft at a youthful heart,
the wounded swain seeks for an opportunity to have a private conversation
with the object of his passion, which is usually obtained at a fair, or
at some other public meeting; where he, if bold enough, accosts her, and
treats her with wine and cakes. But he that is too bashful will employ a
friend to break the ice for him, and disclose the sentiments of his
heart: the fair one, however, disdains proxies of this kind, and he that
is bold, forward, and facetious, has a greater chance of prevailing,
especially if he has courage enough to steal a few kisses: she will then
probably engage to accept of his nocturnal visit the next Saturday night.
When the happy hour arrives, neither the darkness of the night, the
badness of the weather, nor the distance of the place, will discourage
him, so as to abandon his engagement. When he reaches the spot, he
conceals himself in some out-building, till the family go to rest. His
fair friend alone knows of and awaits his coming. After admittance into
the house a little chat takes place at the fire-side, and then, if every
thing is friendly, they agree to throw themselves on a bed, if there is
an empty one in the house; when Strephon takes off his shoes and coat,
and Phillis only her shoes; and covering themselves with a blanket or
two, they chat there till the morning dawn, and then the lover steals
away as privately as he came. And this is the bundling or _courting in
bed_, {181} for which the Welsh are so much bantered by strangers.
“This courtship often lasts for years, ere the swain can prevail upon his
mistress to accept of his hand. Now and then a pregnancy precedes
marriage, but very seldom, or never, before a mutual promise of entering
into the marriage state is made. When a matrimonial contract is thus
entered into, the parents and friends of each party are apprised of it,
and an invitation to the wedding takes place; where, at the appointed
wedding-day, every guest that dines drops his shilling, besides payment
for what he drinks. The company very often amounts to two or three
hundred, and sometimes more. This donation is intended to assist the
young couple to buy bed-clothes, and other articles necessary to begin
the world. Nor does the friendly bounty stop here: when the woman is
brought to bed, the neighbours meet at the christening, out of free
good-will, without invitation, where they drop their money; usually a
shilling to the woman in the straw, sixpence to the midwife, and sixpence
to the cook; more or less, according to the ability and generosity of the
giver.
“MODE OF BURYING.
“When the parish bell announces the death of a person, it is immediately
inquired upon what day the funeral is to be; and on the night preceding
that day all the neighbours assemble at the house where the corpse is,
which they call Ty Corph, i.e. ‘the corpse’s house.’ The coffin, with
the remains of the deceased, is then placed on the stools, in an open
part of the house, covered with black cloth, or, if the deceased was
unmarried, with a clean white sheet, with three candles burning on it.
Every person on entering the house falls devoutly on his knees before the
corpse, and repeats to himself the Lord’s Prayer, or any other prayer
that he chooses. Afterwards, if he is a smoker, a pipe and tobacco are
offered to him. This meeting is called Gwylnos, and in some places
Pydreua. The first word means Vigil; the other is, no doubt, a corrupt
word from Paderau, or Padereuau, that is, Paters, or Paternosters. When
the assembly is full, the parish clerk reads the common service appointed
for the burial of the dead: at the conclusion of which psalms, hymns, and
other godly songs are sung; and since Methodism is become so universal,
some one stands up and delivers an oration on the melancholy subject, and
then the company drop away by degrees. On the following day the
interment takes place, between two and four o’clock in the afternoon,
when all the neighbours assemble again. It is not uncommon to see on
such occasions an assembly of three or four hundred people, or even more.
These persons are all treated with warm spiced ale, cakes, pipes, and
tobacco; and a dinner is given to all those that come from far: I mean,
that such an entertainment is given at the funerals of respectable
farmers. {183a} They then proceed to the church; and at the end of that
part of the burial service, which is usually read in the church, before
the corpse is taken from the church, every one of the congregation
presents the officiating minister with a piece of money; the deceased’s
next relations usually drop a shilling each, others sixpence, and the
poorer sort a penny a-piece, laying it on the altar. This is called
offering, and the sum amounts sometimes to eight, ten, or more pounds at
a burial. The parish clerk has also his offering at the grave, which
amounts commonly to about one-fourth of what the clergyman received.
After the burial is over the company retire to the public-house, where
every one spends his sixpence for ale; {183b} then all ceremonies are
over.”
Mr. W. then proceeds to explain the good and ill resulting from the
prevalence of Methodism, and those fanatics termed Ranters, &c. and
states, that “the mountain people preserve themselves, in a great
measure, a distinct race from the lowlanders: they but very seldom come
down to the lowlands for wives; nor will the lowlander often climb up the
craggy steeps, and bring down a mountain spouse to his cot. Their
occupations are different, and it requires that their mates should be
qualified for such different modes of living.
“I will not scruple to affirm, that these people have no strange blood in
their veins,—that they are the true offspring of the ancient Britons:
they, and their ancestors, from time immemorial, have inhabited the same
districts, and, in one degree or other, they are all relations.”
The vale of Llanberris is bounded by the steep precipices of Snowdon, and
two large lakes, communicating by a river. It was formerly a large
forest, but the woods are now entirely cut down. We here dismissed our
Cambrian mountaineer, and easily found our way to Dolbadern (pronounced
Dolbathern) Castle, situated between the two lakes, and now reduced to
one circular tower, thirty feet in diameter, with the foundations of the
exterior buildings completely in ruins. In this Owen Gôch, brother to
Llewellin, last prince, was confined in prison. This tower appears to
have been the keep or citadel, about ninety feet in height, with a
vaulted dungeon. At the extremity of the lower lake are the remains of a
British fortification, called Caer cwm y Glô; and about half a mile from
the castle, to the south, at the termination of a deep glen, is a
waterfall, called Caunant Mawr; it rushes over a ledge of rocks upwards
of twenty yards in height, falls some distance in an uninterrupted sheet,
and then dashes with a tremendous roar through the impending fragments of
the rock, till it reaches the more quiet level of the vale. Returning to
the lakes, you have a fine view of the ruins, with the promontory on
which they are situated; and that with greatly heightened effect, if
favoured by their reflection on the glassy surface of the waters, to
which you add the rocky heights on each side; Llanberris church relieving
the mountain scenery, and the roughest and most rugged cliffs of Snowdon
in the back-ground topping the whole, which give together a grand and
pleasing coup-d’œil.
In this vicinity are large slate quarries, the property of Thomas Asheton
Smith, Esq. and a rich vein of copper ore. These afford employ to great
numbers of industrious poor: to the men, in obtaining the ore and slates,
and the women and children in breaking, separating, and preparing the
different sorts for exportation, or for undergoing farther preparatory
processes to fit them for smelting. From hence a rugged horse-path
brought us to the Caernarvon turnpike-road, about six miles distant; the
high towers of the castle, the very crown and paragon of the landscape,
at last pointed out the situation of
CAERNARVON;
and having crossed a handsome modern stone bridge thrown over the river
Seiont, and built by “Harry Parry, the modern Inigo, A.D. 1791,” we soon
entered this ancient town, very much fatigued from our long excursion.
The town of Caernarvon, beautifully situated and regularly built, is in
the form of a square, enclosed on three sides with thick stone walls; and
on the south side defended by the castle.
The towers are extremely elegant; but not being entwined with ivy, do not
wear that picturesque appearance which castles generally possess. Over
the principal entrance, which leads into an oblong court, is seated,
beneath a great tower, the statue of the founder, holding in his left
hand a dagger: this gateway was originally fortified with four
portcullises. At the west end the eagle tower, remarkably light and
beautiful, in a polygon form; three small hexagon turrets rising from the
middle, with eagles placed on their battlements; from thence it derives
its name. In a little dark room {186} in this tower, measuring eleven
feet by seven, was born King Edward II. April 25, 1284. The thickness of
the wall is about ten feet. To the top of the tower we reckoned one
hundred and fifty-eight steps; from whence an extensive view of the
adjacent country is seen to great advantage. On the south are three
octagonal towers, with small turrets, with similar ones on the north.
All these towers communicate with each other by a gallery, both on the
ground, middle, and upper floor, formed within the immense thickness of
the walls, in which are cut narrow slips, at convenient distances, for
the discharge of arrows.
This building, founded on a rock, is the work of King Edward I. the
conqueror of the principality; the form of it is a long irregular square,
enclosing an area of about two acres and a half. From the information of
the Sebright manuscript, Mr. Pennant says, that, by the united efforts of
the peasants, it was erected within the space of one year.
Having spent near three hours in surveying one of the noblest castles in
Wales, we walked round the environs of the town. The terrace {187} round
the castle wall, when in existence, was exceedingly pleasing, being in
front of the Menai, which is here upwards of a mile in breadth, forming a
safe harbour, and is generally crowded with vessels, exhibiting a picture
of national industry; whilst near it a commodious quay presents an
ever-bustling scene, from whence a considerable quantity of slate, and
likewise copper, from the Llanberris mine, is shipped for different parts
of the kingdom.
Caernarvon may certainly be considered as one of the handsomest and
largest towns in North Wales; and under the patronage of the Marquess of
Anglesea promises to become still more populous and extensive.
In Bangor-street is the Anglesea Arms hotel, a large and most respectable
inn; where, as well as the Goat, the charges are moderate and the
accommodations excellent.
Caernarvon is only a township and chapelry to Llanbeblic. Its market is
on a Saturday, which is well supplied and reasonable; and with the
spirited improvements made to the town and harbour, has been the means of
greatly increasing its population: according to the late returns it
contains 1008 houses, and 6000 inhabitants. The church, or rather
chapel, has been rebuilt by subscription. Service is performed here in
English, and at the mother church at Llanbeblic {188} in Welsh.
The port, although the Aber sand-banks, forming a dangerous bar, must
ever be a great drawback upon it, has not only been wonderfully improved,
but is in that progressive state of improvement by the modern mode of
throwing out piers, that vessels can now, of considerable tonnage, lie
alongside the quay, and discharge or take in their cargoes in perfect
safety; this bids fair, as may be seen by the rapid increase of its
population and tonnage, to make it a place of trade and considerable
resort: yet still it only ranks as a creek, and its custom-house is made
dependent on that of the haven of Beaumaris, to the comptroller of which
its officer is obliged to report: this must be a considerable hindrance
to its trade, particularly in matters out of the customary routine. The
county hall, which is near the castle, is a low building, but
sufficiently commodious within to hold with convenience the great
sessions. Caernarvon possessed such great favour with Edward the First,
as to have the first royal charter granted in Wales given to it. It is
by that constituted a free borough. It has one alderman, one deputy
mayor, two bailiffs, a town-clerk, two serjeants at mace, and a mayor;
who, for the time, is governor of the castle, and is allowed 200_l._ per
annum to keep it in repair. It jointly with Conway, Nevin, Criccaeth,
and Pwllheli, sends a member to parliament, for the return of whom every
inhabitant, resident or non-resident, who has been admitted to the
freedom of the place, possesses a vote.