We engaged the miner {158a} as our conductor over the mountain, who
entertained us much with displaying, in strong colours, the tricks and
impositions of his brother guides. {158b}
At half-past twelve, we started from our inn, determined to see the sun
rise from its highest summit. The night was now very dark, and we could
just discover, that the top of Snowdon was entirely enveloped in a thick
impenetrable mist: this unpropitious omen staggered our resolutions; and
we for some time hesitated respecting our farther progress; but our guide
assuring us that his comfortable cottage was not far distant, we again
plucked up resolution; and, quitting the high way about two miles on the
Caernarvon road, we turned to the right, through a boggy, unpleasant
land, and in danger of losing our shoes every step we took. This soon
brought us to the comfortable cot, the filth and dirtiness of which can
better be imagined than described; a worm-eaten bed, two small stools,
and table fixed to the wall, composed the whole of his furniture; two
fighting-cocks were perched on a beam, which Thomas seemed to pride
himself in the possession of: the smoke of the fire ascended through a
small hole in the roof of this comfortable mansion, the door of which did
not appear proof against the “churlish chiding of the winter blast.”
Such, indeed, was the situation of this Cambrian mountaineer: and,
though, in our own opinion, misery, poverty, and dirt personified, seemed
to be the real inhabitants of this cottage, yet there was something
prepossessing in his character; for frequently, with the greatest
vehemence imaginable, and in the true style of an anchorite, he declared,
that, “though he boasted not riches, yet he boasted of independence; and
though he possessed not wealth, yet he possessed the home of happiness,
an honest breast.”
The morning appearing to wear a more favourable aspect, we again sallied
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 Paris 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, which this height must naturally be exposed to.
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, repose 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 Llandigai, 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 fireside, 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_, {168} 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. {170a} 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; {170b} 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 impeding 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