second son of the celebrated tanner, William Edwards, ap Griffith, ap
Morgan, ap David, ap Owen, ap Llewellyn, ap Cadwalader; great, great,
great grandson of an illegitimate daughter of an illustrious hero,
(no less famed for his irresistible prowess, when mildly approaching
under the velvet standards of the lovely Venus, than when sternly
advancing with the terrible banners of the bloody Mars) Sir Rice ap
Thomas!!! by Anne, alias Catherine, daughter of Howill ap Jenkin, of
Ynys-y-maesgwyn; who was the thirteenth in descent from Cadwgan, a
lineal descendant of Bleddyn, ap Cynfyn, Prince of Powis. Since his
nativity full two and eighty times hath the sun rolled to his summer
solstice; fifty years was he host of the Hen and Chickens alehouse,
Pen-y-bont, twenty of which he was apparitor to the late right
reverend Father in God, John, Lord Bishop of Bangor, and his
predecessors: by chance, made a glover, by genius, a fly-dresser and
angler. He is now, by the All Divine assistance, conductor to, and
over the most tremendous mountain Cader Idris, to the stupendous
cataracts of Cayne and Mowddach, and to the enchanting cascades of
Dol-y-melynllyn, with all its beautiful romantic scenery; guide
general, and magnificent expounder of all the natural and artificial
curiosities of North Wales; professor of grand and bombastic
lexicographical words; knight of the most anomalous, whimsical, (yet
perhaps happy) order of hare-brained inexplicables.”
“He is a little slender man, about five feet four inches in height,
and, notwithstanding his advanced age, hopped and skipped about the
room with all the vivacity and agility of a school-boy. The manner
in which he expresses himself is as droll as his appearance. He was
dressed in a blue coat with yellow buttons, a pair of old boots, and
a cocked hat and feather of enormous size.”
Mr. Pugh, in his Cambria Depicta, gives a portrait of him from the life,
seated on his poney, conducting a party up the mountain, and adds to his
bill the two following lines:
“_Mark_, _traveller_, what rarely meets thy view,
Thy guide, a giddy _Boy_ of eighty-two.”
Mr. Warner’s description of the view from the summit of Cader Idris is
just and concise.
“The afternoon was gloriously fine, and the atmosphere perfectly
clear, so that the vast unbounded prospect lay beneath, unobscured by
cloud, vapour, or any other interruption, to the astonished and
delighted eye; which threw its glance over a varied scene, including
a circumference of at least 500 miles. To the north-east was
Ireland, like a distant mist upon the ocean; and a little to the
right, Snowdon and the other mountains of Caernarvonshire. Further
on, in the same direction, the Isle of Man, the neighbourhood of
Chester, Wrexham, and Salop; the sharp head of the Wrekin, and the
undulating summit of the Cleehills. To the south, I saw the country
round Clifton, Pembrokeshire, St. David’s, and Swansea; to the west,
a vast prospect of the British Channel, bounded by the horizon.
Exclusive of these distant objects, the nearer views were wonderfully
striking. Numberless mountains, of different forms, appearances, and
elevation, rose in all directions; which, with the various harbours,
lakes, and rivers, towns, villages, and villas, scattered over the
extensive prospect, combined to form a scene inexpressibly august,
diversified, and impressive.” {119}
Mr. Aikin ascended it from Dolgelly. Llyn y Gader lies about a mile and
a half on the high road to Towyn, which having arrived at, we quitted the
road, and began our ascent. When we had surmounted the exterior ridge,
we descended a little to a deep clear lake, which is kept constantly full
by the numerous tributary torrents which fall down the surrounding rocks.
Hence we climbed a second and still higher chain, up a steep but not
difficult track, over numerous fragments of rock, detached from the
higher parts: we now came to a second and more elevated lake, called Llyn
y Cae, clear as glass, and overlooked by steep cliffs, in such a manner
as to resemble the crater of a volcano, of which a most accurate
representation may be seen in Wilson’s excellent View of Cader Idris. A
clear, loud, and distinct echo repeats every shout which is made near the
lake. The waters of this lake cover an extent of fifty acres, abounding
with trout and other fish. We now began our last and most difficult
ascent, up the summit of Cader Idris itself. The loose columnar stones
lie about in all directions, assuming in many places so regular an
appearance, that they might be mistaken for Druidic remains. Some of
them stand erect, like Maenhirion, and one is dignified with the title
Llêch Idris. Nearer the summit, numerous masses of irregular figures
present themselves. Having gained this ascent, a small plain forms the
base to two eminences, or rocky heads, of nearly equal height, one lying
towards the north, called Tyrran Mawr, the other to the south, called Pen
y Gader. We made choice of the latter, which appeared the most elevated,
and seated ourselves upon its highest pinnacle to rest, after a laborious
ascent of three hours. 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 openings of the Brecon
mountains; and on the east, the eye glanced over the lake of Bala, the
two Arennig mountains, the two Arrans, and the long chain of the Ferwyn
mountains, to the Breddin hills, on the confines of Shropshire. Dimly,
in the distant horizon, was beheld the Wrekin, rising alone from the
plain of Salop. “In viewing scenes, so decidedly magnificent,” says a
pictorial writer, “and to which neither the pen, nor the pencil of the
painter, can ever do justice; and the contemplation of which has the
power of making ample atonement for having studied mankind, the soul
expanding and sublimed, quickens with a spirit of divinity, and appears,
as it were, associated with the Deity himself. For, in the same manner
as a shepherd feels himself ennobled, while sitting with his prince; so,
and in a far more unlimited degree, the beholder feels himself advanced
to a higher scale in the Creation, in being permitted to see and to
admire the grandest of the works of nature.” Having satisfied our
curiosity, and being thoroughly chilled by the keen air of these elevated
regions, we began to descend down the side opposite to that which we had
come up.
The first stage led us to another beautiful mountain lake, the cold clear
waters of which discharge their superabundance in a stream down the side
of the mountain. All these lakes abound with trout, and in some is found
the gwniad, a fish peculiar to rocky Alpine lakes. Following the course
of the stream, we came upon the edge of the craggy cliffs which overlook
Talyllyn lake. A long and difficult descent conducted us, at last, to
the borders of Talyllyn, where we entered the Dolgelly road.
The mountain,