It is advisable for all travellers, pedestrians not excepted, to leave
Dolgelly at high water, as without that, the scenery loses much of its
beauty; if convenient, it is certainly preferable to hire a boat, at the
Stoves; the charge is three shillings and sixpence; by this you will save
a walk of eight miles, and both from your situation, and from being more
at your ease, will better admit of your observing the surrounding
scenery, with which you cannot fail to be highly gratified.
This short excursion of eight miles, is truly grand, awful, and sublime;
and though many parts of this striking valley are richly cultivated, yet,
by the side of the road, enormous mountains, formed into the most
capricious shapes, shoot into the clouds, and sometimes projecting so far
over the road, as seeming to impede our farther progress: the wide
expanse of the ocean, in front, with the arm of the sea running up the
country in the centre of the valley; in fine, the _tout ensemble_ claimed
our highest admiration.
Barmouth, though considered as a bathing-place, is very inferior to
Tenby, yet its situation for grandeur of rocks, has been frequently
compared, by many Tourists, to Gibraltar; and by others, esteemed not
unlike St. Kitts, in the West Indies. The vast sand banks, formed by the
tides immediately in front of the town, are the only barriers which
protect it from the inundations of the sea. The shore is extremely
level, and affords, for many miles, excellent riding. In respect to the
bathing, little can be said to recommend it; the machines are not drawn
into the water, and by this palpable inconvenience, you are under the
disagreeable necessity of walking a considerable way in, before the water
is sufficiently deep for “plunging headlong in the briny flood.” During
our stay here, two gentlemen perceiving that the water was very much
alloyed by a fresh water stream disemboguing itself into the sea, at
Barmouth, persuaded Mrs. Lewis, the obliging landlady of the Cors-y-gedol
Arms, to remove the machines farther from the town; and from them we were
informed, that though the salt water was purer, yet they found it
impossible to draw them sufficiently deep for good bathing: the machines
being stationary on the sands, the ladies likewise find it remarkably
inconvenient, being equally compelled to walk in. The folly of this
method seems to be more striking, as the objection might be so easily
obviated. The lower class here, as in many other parts of Wales,
indiscriminately dress and undress on the sands, and pay very little
distinction to their sex.
The board and lodging is regulated on the same excellent plan here as at
Tenby, with very little difference in respect to the expence. The town
itself is very dirty, and so irregularly built, on the declivity of a
rock, that the windows of one house not uncommonly look down on the
neighbouring chimney. We could not avoid observing the number of pigs,
which are esteemed in this part of the country far superior to any in
England, lying in every corner of the street; and these pigs, I rather
imagine, consider themselves, during the night, inmates of the peasant’s
cottage: yet these hardships, if they may be distinguished by that name,
the inhabitants of the hovel suffer without complaint, and deem
themselves perfectly happy as long as they possess a pile of turf to keep
off the inclemency of the winter’s blast, a small strip of ground, well
stocked with potatoes, some poultry, and a fat pig; though one hovel
protects them all. Though to appearance, their situation is most
miserable, yet it has no effect on their tempers and dispositions; their
hospitality, and indeed kindness, towards strangers in distress, is an
interesting trait in their character: to instance this, I am induced to
mention an anecdote, which took place at Hubberstone, not long ago. A
lady anxiously waiting the arrival of her husband, from Ireland, at the
miserable village of Hubberstone, soon interested even the meaner
inhabitants of the place in her behalf; who willing to render her
situation as comfortable as possible, seemed to vie with each other in
producing the most delicious fruits, and the choicest garlands of
flowers, to present them to the unhappy consort; and not content alone
with this, she was generally greeted in the streets, with the phrase,
“There goes poor Mrs. L—.” The lady, at last, impatient for the arrival
of her husband, determined to sail for Ireland. The faithfulness of the
little group that accompanied her to the shore, can better be imagined
than described; the last farewell, with tears of artless innocence, and
the beseeching that Providence “who governs the waves, and stills the
raging of the sea,” to grant her a prosperous voyage; all this seemed to
come so thoroughly from the bottom of their hearts, that we cannot avoid
feeling ourselves interested in their behalf.