I am now returned, dog-tired, from ascending Snowdon, the highest
mountain in England, Scotland, and Wales, which indeed is not saying
much. Excuse me till morning, when I will give you a faithful relation
of my 'fata'. Meantime, good night.
_July 20th._
As soon as I had committed the packet for you to Mr. S----, with the
strongest injunctions to care, I left Bangor as quickly as four
post-horses could convey me. On the way I visited some iron-foundries,
which, however, I shall spare you, as I observed nothing new in them. I
was rather unwell when I arrived at the inn at Caernarvon, where a most
beautiful girl with long black hair, the daughter of the absent host,
did the honours with great grace and sweetness. The following morning at
nine o'clock I set out in tolerable weather on a 'char-à-banc,' drawn by
two horses of the country. My driver was a little boy who did not
understand a word of English. He drove like mad, 'en train de chasse,'
over the narrow cross-roads of this rocky country. All my shouts and
expostulations were vain, or seemed to be interpreted by him in the very
contrary sense from what I intended; so that we went nine miles from the
lake of Llanberis in less than half an hour, over stock and stone: I do
not understand how the horses and carriages bore it. By the fishermen's
huts which lie scattered along the shore, I found a gentler mode of
conveyance, a pretty little boat, in which I embarked with two robust
mountaineers. Snowdon now lay before us, but unfortunately had, as the
country-people say, put on his night-cap, while the lower mountains
around shone in the brightest sunshine. It is not more than about four
thousand feet high, but has a very imposing aspect, in consequence of
its immediate rise from the shore of the lake, whereas most other
mountains of the same class spring from a base of considerable
elevation. From the point where we embarked, to the little inn at the
foot of Snowdon, the lake is three miles over; and as the wind was very
high, our voyage was rough and tedious. The water of the lake is black
as ink; the mountains bare and strewed with rock, and only varied by
occasional small green glens: here and there are a few stunted trees,
but the general aspect is wild and desert. Not far from the small church
of Llanberis is the so-called Holy Well, inhabited by a solitary trout
of enormous size, who has for centuries been exhibited to strangers.
Frequently, however, he will not be tempted from his hiding-place; and
the country-people think it an unlucky omen if he appears immediately.
As I am an enemy of all oracles, I did not visit it. My companions also
told me a history of a wondrous amazon of gigantic strength, who long
led a wild masculine sort of life here: and described to me certain
enormous bees, which the Welsh admire and venerate so much that they
think them natives of Paradise. Excellent salmon are caught here: the
manner of catching them is strange; they are hunted by small dogs
trained to the sport, who drag them out of the mud into which they
occasionally creep.
As soon as I arrived at the inn I secured a 'poney' (a small mountain
horse), and a guide, and hastened to set out, in hope that the
threatening clouds would break about noon. Unfortunately, the very
contrary happened; it grew darker and darker, and before I had climbed
half an hour, followed by my guide leading the poney, one uniform mantle
enshrouded hill and valley; and a heavy rain, against which my umbrella
did not long protect me, beat upon us. We at length took refuge in the
ruins of an old castle; and after I had laboriously climbed a decayed
winding staircase I reached the remains of a balcony, where I found
shelter under a dense mass of ivy. Everything around me wore an air of
profound gloom; the crumbling walls, the wind which moaned plaintively
through their fissures, the monotonous dropping of the rain, and the
disagreeable termination of my hopes conspired to throw me into a
melancholy frame of mind. I thought with a sigh, how nothing,--not even
the smallest trifle,--falls out as I wish it;--how all that I undertake
looks ill-timed and eccentric as soon as _I_ undertake it; so that
everywhere, as here, what others accomplish in light and sunshine, I
must toil through in storm and rain. Impatiently I left the old walls,
and once more climbed the mountain. The weather was, however, now so
terrible, and the increasing storm so dangerous even, that we were once
more compelled to seek shelter in a miserable ruinous hut. The inside
was filled with smoke, in the midst of which sat an old woman spinning
in silence, while some half-naked children lay on the ground, gnawing
dry crusts of bread. The whole family seemed hardly conscious of my
entrance; at least they made no pause or change in their occupations.
For a moment the children stared stupidly and incuriously at me, and
then fell again into the apathy of wretchedness. I seated myself on the
round table, the only piece of furniture in the house, and once more
gave audience to my thoughts, which were not the most exhilarating.
Meanwhile, as the storm raged more furiously, my guide earnestly advised
me to turn back. This would doubtless have been the most reasonable
course, particularly as we had not yet ascended a third way up the
mountain. But as I had long resolved to drink your health, dear Julia,
on the summit of Snowdon, in champagne, and had brought a bottle with me
from Caernarvon for that express purpose, it seemed to me of ill omen to
give it up. With the cheerfulness which a firm determination and fixed
purpose, whether in great things or small, never fails to impart, I
said, laughing, to my guide, "If it were to rain stones instead of
water, I would not turn back till I had been at the top of Snowdon." I
made the poor old woman a little present, which she received with
apathy. The road was become extremely difficult; it lay over loose and
smooth stones washed by the rain, or over very slippery turf. I admired
how my active sturdy little beast, shod as he was with smooth English
shoes, could step so securely forward on such a road.
Meanwhile it soon became so piercingly cold, that, drenched as I was by
the rain, I could keep my seat no longer. I am so out of practice in
climbing, that I was sometimes nearly overpowered by weariness; but as
the Knight in the Romance of old Spiess was cheered by the sound of the
bells of the twelve sleeping virgins, so I was continually exhorted to
perseverance by the "_ma--ma_" of the mountain sheep, who were feeding
in hundreds on the thin herbage around me. I thought of our pet lamb at
home, and stepped vigorously onward, till at the end of an hour I had
recovered from my fatigue, and felt fresher than at setting out. I was
not compensated for my sufferings by the view, for, shrouded as I was in
clouds, I could hardly see twenty paces before me. In this mysterious
'clair obscur' I reached the wished-for summit, the way to which lies
over a narrow irregular wall of rocks. A pile of stones, in the centre
of which is a wooden pillar, marks the highest point.
I thought I met my _wraith_, as a young man emerged from the mist who
precisely resembled me, that is to say what I was when I wandered over
the Swiss Alps sixteen years ago. He had, like myself, a light knapsack
on his back, a sturdy staff in his hand, and a substantial dress, which
may be called the classical costume of mountain travellers, contrasting
as strongly with my London boots, stiff cravat, and tight frock-coat, as
the youthful freshness of his face with the yellow, city hue of mine. He
looked like the young son of Nature; I like the 'ci-devant jeune homme.'
He had ascended the mountain from the other side, and, without stopping,
asked me eagerly how far it was to the inn and what sort of road it was.
As soon as I had given him the information he desired, he bounded away
over the rocks, singing carelessly, and soon disappeared from my sight.
I scratched my name near a thousand others on a block of stone, took
out the drinking-horn which my host had lent me, and ordered the guide
to draw the cork out of my bottle of Champagne. It must have contained
an unusual portion of fixed air, for the cork flew higher than the top
of the pillar by which we stood; and you may therefore, without
imitating Münchausen, assert, that when I drank your health on the 17th
of July, 1828, the cork of the Champagne bottle flew four thousand feet
above the level of the sea. I filled the horn, to the foaming brim, and
shouted with stentor voice into the dim obscure, 'Long life to Julia!'
with nine times nine (in the English style). Three times I emptied the
cup; and thirsty and exhausted as I was, never did I relish Champagne
more. After my libation was completed, the prayers I sent up were not
words, but profound emotions; the most fervent among which was the wish,
that it might be Heaven's will to grant happiness on earth to you, and
then 'if possible,' to me;--and see, a pretty lamb sprang forth from the
cloudy veil, and the mist opened and rolled away, and before us lay the
earth suddenly gilded by a momentary gleam of sunshine. But in a minute
the curtain fell again,--an emblem of my destiny: the beautiful and the
desirable--the _gilded_ earth--appear now and then like delusive meteors
before me: as soon as I seek to grasp them, they vanish like dreams.
As there was no hope that the weather would become permanently clear in
these elevated regions, we resolved to return. I found myself so
strengthened that I not only felt no trace of weariness, but experienced
a feeling unknown for years, in which walking and running, so far from
being irksome, are in themselves a source of elastic enjoyment. I
sprang, therefore, like my youthful _double_, so rapidly over the rocks
and down the wet rushy slopes, that in a few minutes I accomplished a
portion of the way which it had taken me an hour and a half to ascend. I
emerged at length from the interminable cloud; and if the prospect were
less magnificent than from the summit, it still afforded me great
delight. It was still about seven hundred feet above the level of the
sea, which lay in boundless extent before me. The Island of Anglesea
reposed on its bosom; and in the mountain-gorges, which intersected each
other in every direction, I counted above twenty small lakes; some dark,
some so brightly illumined by the sun that the eye could scarcely bear
to rest on their mirror-like surface. Meanwhile the guide had overtaken
me; but as I could now perfectly distinguish the 'terrain,' the evening
was beautiful, and I felt no fatigue, I let him and his clever little
horse return home by the straight road, and determined to take my
solitary way across the most striking points, 'et bien m'en,' for since
I was in Switzerland I remember no more delicious walk.--I followed a
defile along the wild pass of Llanberis, celebrated in the wars between
the English and the Welsh, and where the latter, under their great
prince Llewellyn, often contemplated the destruction of their foreign
invaders, perhaps from the very spot where I then stood.
The jagged walls of rock which in many places sank perpendicularly to
the pass, are a good exercise for heads subject to giddiness. I
gradually ascended many considerable peaks of the same kind, and found
only an enjoyment the more in the slight shudder which my perilous
station excited. "L'émotion du danger plait à l'homme," says Madame de
Staël. My solitude was not complete. The mountain sheep which I have
already mentioned, much smaller than the ordinary breeds, wild and agile
as the chamois, often bounded before me like roes, and in their flight
leaped down crags and precipices where it would not have been easy for
any one to follow them. The wool of these sheep is as remarkable for
coarseness, as their flesh for tenderness and delicacy. The London
'gourmands' set a high value upon it, and maintain that a man who has
not eaten roast mutton from Snowdon has no conception of the _ideal_ in
that kind.
I came almost into collision with a large bird of prey, which hovering
slowly with out-spread wings, had fixed his eyes so intently on
something beneath, and had so little calculated on making my
acquaintance in this impracticable path, that I could almost have seized
him with my hands before he perceived me. He darted away with the
velocity of an arrow, but did not for a moment lose sight of the object
of his eager pursuit; and I saw him for a long time like a point, poised
in the blue ether, till the sun sunk behind the surrounding mountain.
I now endeavoured to reach the hut at which I had before stopped, in as
straight a line as possible. Not far from it a girl was milking her cow,
which afforded me a refreshing draught. Here too I found my guide, and
thankfully availed myself of his services during the rest of my way,
wrapt in my cloak and resting most luxuriously on my sure-footed
'poney.' After returning to my inn and changing my clothes, I set out
afresh and embarked on the lake, now splendidly burnished with the glow
of evening. The air was become mild and soft; fish leaped sportively
from the water, and herons wheeled their graceful flight around the
sedgy shores; while here and there a fire gleamed upon the mountains,
and the heavy thunder of blasted rocks resounded from the distant
quarries.
Long had the moon's sickle stood aloft in the deep blue heavens, when
the dark-locked Hebe welcomed me back to Caernarvon.
_July 21st._
I was still somewhat fatigued by my yesterday's expedition, and
contented myself with a walk to the celebrated castle built by Edward I.
the conqueror of Wales, and destroyed by Cromwell. It is one of the most
magnificent ruins in England. The only thing to regret is, that it
stands so near the town, and not in solitary grandeur amid the
mountains. The outer walls, although in ruins, still form an unbroken
line, enclosing nearly three acres of ground. The interior space,
overgrown with grass and filled with rubbish and with thistles, is
nearly eight hundred paces long. It is surrounded by seven slender but
strong towers, of different forms and sizes. One of them may still be
ascended, and I climbed by a crumbling staircase of a hundred and forty
steps to its platform, whence I enjoyed a magnificent view over sea,
mountains, and town. On descending, my guide showed me the remains of a
vaulted chamber, in which, according to tradition, Edward II., the first
prince of Wales, was born. The Welsh, in consequence of the oppression
of English governors in the earlier times of partial and momentary
conquest, had declared to the king that they would obey none but a
prince of their own nation. Edward therefore sent for his wife Eleanor
in the depth of winter that she might lie-in in Caernarvon castle. She
bore a prince: upon which the king summoned the nobles and chiefs of the
land, and asked them solemnly whether they would submit to the rule of a
prince who was born in Wales, and could not speak a word of English. On
their giving a joyful and surprised assent, he presented to them his
new-born son, exclaiming in broken Welsh, _Eich dyn!_ i. e. "This is
your man!" which has been corrupted into the present motto of the
English arms, _Ich Dien_.
Over the great gate still stands the statue of Edward, with a crown on
his head and a drawn dagger in his right hand, as if after six centuries
he were still guarding the crumbling walls of his castle. He might
justly have broken out into indignant complaint at the desecration I
witnessed. In the midst of these majestic ruins, a camel and some
monkeys in red jackets were performing their antics, while a ragged
multitude stood shouting and laughing around, unconscious of the
wretched contrast which they formed with these solemn remains of past
ages.
The tower in which the prince was born is called the Eagle Tower; not
from that circumstance, but from four colossal eagles which crowned its
pinnacles, one of which is still remaining. It is believed to be Roman,
for Caernarvon stands on the site of the ancient Segontium, which....
But I am wandering too far, and am in the high road to fall into the
tone of a tour-writer by profession, who thinks himself privileged to
_bore_ if he does not instruct, although his information is generally
the result of a weary search through road-books and local descriptions.
'Je n'ai pas cette prétension, vous le savez, je laisse errer ma plume,'
heedless whither it leads me.
The Marquis of Anglesea has lately established a sea-bath here, which is
supplied by a steam-engine, and very elegantly fitted up. I availed
myself of it on my way back from the castle, and observed in the
entertaining-room a billiard-table of metal set in stone. It is
impossible to desire one more accurate;--whether the steam-engine
performed the office of marking, I forgot to ask. This is by no means
impossible, in a country in which somebody has gravely proposed to
establish steam-waiters in coffee-houses, and in which affairs would go
on much the same if a forty-horsepower steam-engine sat upon the throne.
Dear Julia, a traveller must be allowed to speak often and much of
weather and of eating. The Novels of the Illustrious, erst Unknown, or
the Illustrious Unknown, derive no inconsiderable part of their
attractions from the masterly pictures of this kind they contain. Whose
mouth does not water when he sees Dalgetty, the soldier of fortune,
display at the table a prowess even greater than in the fight? I am
really not in joke when I assure you that when I have lost my appetite,
I often read an hour or two in the works of the Great Unknown, and find
it completely restored. To-day I wanted no stimulus of this or any kind.
It was sufficient to see the most excellent fresh fish and the far-famed
'mountain mutton' smoking on the table, to induce me to fall on them
with ravenous hunger; for a sea-bath and the ascent of Snowdon have a
yet greater influence on the stomach than Walter Scott. My dark-locked
maiden, who, as I was the only guest in the house, waited on me herself,
was at length impatient of my reiterated attacks on the mutton; and said
somewhat sullenly that I did nothing but eat, except when I was rambling
about. She was of a much more ethereal nature, and in the short time I
had been here, had read through half my portable Novel library. Every
time I saw her she presented me with a newly devoured volume, and begged
so earnestly for another, that I must have had a hard heart to refuse
her.
_July 22._
A large packet has been sent after me to-day from Bangor. I vainly
searched it for tidings from you; but could not refrain from laughing
heartily over a letter from L----, who writes to me in despair at the
scrape he is in. He tells me that he suffered his "Reflections" (the
beginning of which I sent you,) to be printed in fragments, and a
certain party which feels itself too sore not to be over-sensitive 'y a
entendu malice.' They have inserted a furious article against him in the
Lamb's Journal; and poor L----, who knows the people he has to deal
with, is afraid that he will certainly be rejected at his examination.
As this philippic is not long, and is very characteristic of our times,
and as I have a holiday to-day, I shall transcribe it with some
abridgments.
"_On the_ REFLECTIONS _of a pious Soul of Sandomir: A discourse by
Herr von Frommel, Adjutant of his Highness the Prince of ----.
Pronounced in the Nobility's pious Conventicle for both sexes, at
A----, No. 33, Zion Street, May 4th, 1828_. (_Reprinted separately,
from the Collection, for true Christians._)
"High and high-well born, pious brethren and sisters! Truly is it said
there be many wolves in sheep's clothing! The author of these
reflections is doubtless the wearer of such a sheepskin. It is not
difficult to discover that under the mask of godliness, and of a
simplicity approaching to silliness, are heard the hissings of that same
mischievous serpent who seduced our pious mother Eve, who has since
incessantly vented his venom upon our holy Religion, and still labours
to overthrow the throne and the altar. But we, my brethren, will not
resemble our, alas! too credulous Mother, but will exterminate the
satellites of the Devil wherever we find them, with fire and sword.
"Yes, my friends, _you_ know and are certain that the Devil is, and
lives--not as the unbelieving herd say, _in us_, as the demon of anger,
of vanity, of hatred, of sin;--no, bodily he roams over the earth, like
a roaring lion, with goat's horns and a long tail and pestilential
stench, wherever he chooses to show himself. He who does not _thus_
believe on the Devil, has no true religion. But wherefore do I urge
this? _We_ are no reasoners--no worldly-wise: here are none but simple
lambs, one flock under one shepherd.
"A warning is, however, necessary; and therefore I now give the alarm.
We have as yet seen only fragments of these poisonous 'Reflections,' and
know not how far the author means to go;--but they are aimed at us; of
that there is no doubt; and, God be praised! we find already enough
fully to justify our denouncing him as an Atheist. Is it not obvious
that he jests at Providence and its omnipotence? We hope, we pray,
therefore, confidently and earnestly, that Omnipotence will speedily
avenge itself, and give this presumptuous soul a foretaste of what
awaits him in the everlasting flames. And may the all-merciful God do
this promptly and fearfully, that no innocent lamb of our flock may be
led astray by that unclean one. Certainly, my friends, a fiend, a
vampire, an atheist wrote these words. Nothing is sacred to him. He
attacks not alone the Creator, but even the Redeemer of the world.
"Oh my brethren and sisters! horrible--we may reckon upon it
assuredly--horrible will be the lot of such an one at the last day! when
the dead shall arise in the body, and his carnal ear shall hear again,
only to listen to the thunders of the trumpets which announce to him his
eternal damnation. _There_ will be no pity! There will be weeping and
gnashing of teeth! And let us follow that example, and be inexorable
towards him, as will be that eternal condemnation.
"We could scarcely have believed that after all our Christian labours in
our so truly--I say it with pride--Christian city, in which everything
is done to destroy the poison of toleration and of mad confidence in our
own judgment, men could be found amongst us, who would dare,
unrestrained by all authority, to go their own way in search of
truth;--these free-thinkers and heathens spring up only because the
constituted authorities (even our otherwise so active Censorship at
their head) are far too indulgent towards the greatest of all crimes,
unbelief. It would perhaps have been expedient and beneficial to
introduce a moderate Inquisition, together with the new prayer book, for
the defence of true believers, those genuine Christians, those sole
predestined favourites of God, who believe whatever their King and
their Church order, without hesitation or examination. Only such can
have any real value for Church or State. Away then with all others! Be
they damned for ever! like all the unbaptized children of Jews and
Heathens. Oh could we but for ever expunge from our annals that
disgraceful period in which a philosopher (and not merely an ideological
but a practical philosopher) sat on a German throne,--and, my Christian
brethren, would you believe it? received the name of the Great! The
mildest that we, converted to the grace of godliness with tears of
blood, can now say of him is, the Lord be merciful to his poor soul!
Long however must the pious and their sacred legion struggle, before the
seed which this _great_ (!!!) man sowed will be wholly trodden down;
before the last trace of that miserable Reason which he fostered will be
entirely eradicated. Nevertheless, despair not, my Christian brethren;
to such holy zeal as ours nothing is impossible, and this world's
rewards await you in various forms here, from those exalted sources from
which we daily draw; and hereafter yet greater glories in the Palace of
the Lord. Only beware of reasoning, in every shape: believe--not upon
your own inquiry--but as it is prescribed to you; and above all, beware
of Toleration! Love your Redeemer not only above all, but solely and
alone. But he who is not for him is against him, and upon such have no
mercy. Persecute them without intermission. And if this cannot be done
openly, undermine him with calumnies, with secret detraction; yea, shun
not the rankest lies, provided you can disseminate them with security to
yourselves; for remember that the end sanctifies all means. Ah, were we
but in such a frame of mind as never to wax cool in our zeal! It is only
because we are luke-warm, that these philosophers have dared to preach
that virtue of heathens, toleration. We have seen to what it brought us
when the delirious raving about freedom seized the mob, and universal
anarchy threatened to overthrow the throne, the church, our old
nobility, and everything venerable. Therefore away with every thought of
mischievous tolerance towards those who think otherwise! Christ indeed
has said, "Bless those who curse you:" and further, "If any man strike
you on one cheek, offer him the other also." But upon this subject I
have my own thoughts. Passages of this sort ought certainly to be
differently understood: for how could they be reconciled with the
indispensable laws of our station? Does not the honour of our rank, and
of our uniform, command us instantly and without hesitation, to strike
again a man who should dare to lay hands upon us? Yes, I know not
whether even I, the favourite of my prince, should dare to show myself
at court or in the highest places, after publicly receiving a slap on
the face. It is therefore highly probable that our Saviour intended
these words to be taken with one limitation,--that is, _for the common
people_, in whom it is unquestionably meritorious when struck on one
cheek, instead of giving way to wrath and bitterness, to offer the
other. Let it be remembered also, that when Christ became man, he sought
out not only a noble but a royal race. And who knows whether the
disciples were really of such mean extraction as they are represented,
and not perhaps men of old Jewish families of high descent? the matter
is wrapt in so much historical darkness. And doth not Christ say, "My
coming is not to bring peace, but rather the sword?" These two passages
would seem to contradict each other, if we did not understand that
patience is enjoined to one class and warfare to the other. For is not
that the primitive destination of the nobility?--formerly with the
sword, now with the pen and the word. For this cause, my brethren and
sisters, strive against the unbelieving. Gird on the sword of the times,
and strive for the Lord with the Bible and Jacob Böhmen, with the
Chamberlain's Key and the Field Marshal's Baton, with the Prayer-book
and the Surplice. Believe me, my dear friends, soon shall we earn the
fruits of our holy zeal; soon shall we begin to stand on the brazen
floor.
"People yield more and more to our secret influence and strong union:
the powerful support which we give to all our fellow-labourers when
their labours in the vineyard deserve it; the many favours from exalted
sources, of which we are the sharers; above all, the inexorable piety we
are known to possess, hold even the most daring within bounds, and lay
the timid in shoals at our feet.
"But whenever an Antichrist dares to attack us, (and whoever dares to do
so is one,) I exhort you again,--watch, strive, destroy, and rest not
till your victim is fallen. It is all for Charity's sake, the last
effort for a poor erring mortal, to force him, if possible, to
acknowledge Christ.--Amen.
"It will perhaps be agreeable to this noble congregation in Christ, and
moving to their hearts, if I hereby communicate to them, that we have
been so happy in the course of the present month as to bring seven and a
half condemned souls to the true faith, which has cost us not more than
a hundred reichsthalers. As we are obliged to keep a worldly account of
these matters, we have agreed to reckon children under twelve years of
age as half souls. And may Heaven in like manner bless our further pious
efforts, and the disinterested zeal with which the unconverted are drawn
to the lap of Jesus.--Amen."
I had read thus far when the little Eliza appeared with my breakfast,
and with an arch good-nature bid me good morning "after my long sleep."
She had just been to church, had all the consciousness of being
well-dressed, and was waiting upon a foreigner; three things which
greatly incline women to be tender-hearted. She accordingly seemed
almost embarrassed when I inquired about my departure early the
following morning; but was soon consoled when I promised to leave her my
travelling library, and to bring her a fresh assortment of books in a
week.
After dinner I went, under her guidance, to visit the walks around the
town. One of these is most romantically placed on a large rock. We saw
from hence to Snowdon, in almost transparent clearness, undimmed by a
single cloud; and I could not restrain some feelings of vexation at
having so exactly missed the right day.
After this pastoral walk, 'tender mutton' closed a day of which I am
sorry to have nothing more interesting to record.
But I now recollect a somewhat singular incident which my host told me
to-day. On the night of the 5th of August, 1820, the boat which crossed
a ferry at this place was lost, and out of twenty-six persons only one
man was saved. Exactly thirty-seven years before, the same disaster
occurred, and out of sixty-nine persons only one survived. What renders
the coincidence the more perfect is, that on both occasions the name of
the sole survivor was Hugh Williams.
_Bangor, July 22d._
Bangor is also a bathing place; that is, every body may jump into the
sea who likes it. The artificial arrangements for the purpose are
reduced to the private tub-establishment of one old woman, who lives in
a wretched hovel on the shore; and if an order is given an hour before,
heats the sea-water in pots and kettles on her hearth, and proceeds
'sans façon,' to undress and afterwards to rub down and dress again any
stranger who may come unprovided with a servant. I entered her hut
accidentally, and after I had taken a bath of this sort, 'pour la rarité
du fait,' I hired a boat to take me across the arm of the sea which
divides Wales from the island of Anglesea. Here is another castle built
by Edward I., and destroyed by Cromwell; it was originally even of
greater extent than that at Caernarvon, and covered five acres of
ground; but the ruins are less picturesque, in consequence of its having
lost all its towers. To see it thoroughly one must walk along the narrow
and lofty walls, which are wholly unprotected. The boy who keeps the
keys ran along like a squirrel; but the barber of the town, who offered
his services as guide when I landed, left me in the lurch at the first
step. The ruin stands in the park of a Mr. Bulkley: with singular bad
taste he has made a tennis-court within its enclosure. His house
commands a very celebrated view. It is, however, far surpassed by one I
met with about a mile and a half further on, from a simple and elegant
cottage called Craig y Don. This is a true gem,--one of those blessed
spots which leave nothing to wish. It lies between thickly wooded rocks
close to the sea: not too large, but adorned like a boudoir, surrounded
by the greenest turf, and by the blended beauty of flowers of all
colours; the whole house, with its thatched roof and verandah tapestried
with China roses and blue convolvuluses, forms a picture which, enclosed
as it is between wood and rock, formed the most indescribably beautiful
contrast with the sublime scenery around it. Labyrinthine footpaths wind
in all directions through the cool and shady thicket, subdividing into
many and exquisite fragments the rich treasures of landscape beauty
afforded by the situation. Beneath and in front lies the deep blue sea,
whose surf beats against the sharp pointed rocks upon which I stood;
while further away on its smooth mirror a hundred fishing-boats and
other vessels glided to and fro. Among them I descried the cutter of the
proprietor of Craig y Don lying at anchor, and two steam-boats, one of
which, far in the distance, left a long line of smoke; the other, close
to shore, sent up a slender column of white vapour. On the right, a deep
bay stretches into the land, studded with little islands of every
character and form; some clothed with brushwood, others bare and almost
polished by the waves; some covered with little huts, others crowned
with upright tower-like rocks. On turning again toward the strait, and
following its gradual contraction, my eye rested with amazement on that
stupendous chain-bridge which closes the prospect: that giant work which
is justly called the eighth wonder of the world, and which, bidding
defiance to nature, has united two portions of land which she had
severed by the ocean. I shall have an opportunity hereafter of
describing it more nearly; from this point it looks as if spiders had
woven it in the air.
After I had satisfied myself with gazing at this romantic specimen of
human power and skill, I turned to one of the greatest and most varied
works of nature;--the entire range of the Welsh mountains, which rises
immediately from the water, distinct and near enough clearly to
distinguish woods, villages and valleys, and stretches along an extent
of ten miles. The mountains grouped themselves in every variety of light
and shadow; some were wrapped in clouds, some gleamed brightly in the
sun, others stretched their blue heads even above the clouds; and
villages, towns, white churches, handsome country-houses and castles,
were visible in their gorges, while shifting gleams of light played on
the green slopes at their foot. The eye, wearied with a variety, turns
to the north, which is on my left. Here nothing distracts the gaze: the
wide ocean alone blends with the sky. For a short time you follow the
retreating shore of Anglesea at your side, on which large nut-trees and
oaks droop their pliant boughs into the sea, and then you are alone with
air and water; or at most you fancy you descry the sails of a distant
vessel, or shape fantastic pictures in the clouds.
After an hour of intense enjoyment, I rode at the full speed of a pony,
which I hired in Anglesea, to the great bridge. The best point of view
is from the beach, near some fishing huts about a hundred paces from the
bridge. The more thoroughly and minutely I viewed it, the greater was my
astonishment. I thought I beheld in a dream a filagree work suspended by
fairies in the air. In short, the fancy cannot exhaust itself in
comparisons; and as a stage-coach with four horses drove rapidly over
the arch a hundred feet high and six hundred wide, half concealed by the
intertexture of the chains on which the bridge is suspended, I thought I
saw larks fluttering in a net. The men who were seated in various parts
of the chain-work, giving it its first coat of paint, were like captive
insects. Those who know the castle at Berlin will be able to form some
idea of the enormous dimensions of this bridge, when they hear that it
would stand perfectly well under the centre arch: and yet the chains
hold the latter so firmly, that even driving at the quickest rate or
with the heaviest burden, which is by no means forbidden, does not
excite the smallest perceptible vibration. The bridge is divided at the
top into three roads, one for going, another for returning, and a third
for foot-passengers. The planks rest on an iron grating, so that they
are easily removed when out of repair, and no danger is to be
apprehended when they break. Every three years the whole iron work
receives a fresh coat of paint, to prevent rust. The name of the
architect, who has earned a high and lasting reputation, is Telford.
'Sur ce, n'ayant plus rien à dire,' I close my epistle, and wish you, my
dear Julia, all the happiness and blessings you deserve, 'et c'est
beaucoup dire.'