Description of Barmouth.—Sketch of the Town.—The Estuary.—Friar’s
Island,—Dinas Gortin.—Earl of Richmond.—Anecdote of the Men of Ardudwy,
and the Men of Denbighshire.—Corsygedol Hall.—A Pic-nic Party.—Llyn Cwm
Bychan.—Carreg y Saeth.—Bwlch Tyddiad.—A Mountain Ride and a Regretful
Farewell.
“The mountayne men live longer many a year
Then those in vale, in plaine, or marrish soyle;
A lustie hart, a cleene complexion cleere,
They have on hill that for hard living toyle;
With ewe and lambe, with goats and kinds they play,
In greatest toyles to rub out wearie day;
And when to house and home good fellowes draw,
The lads can laugh at turning of a strawe.”
CHURCHYARD.
BARMOUTH, or Aber-Maw, derives its name from being situated at the
embouchure of the river Maw or Mawddach, which at the entrance is
obstructed by a bar. The old town, viewed from the sea, resembles a
fortress of some strength, hanging immediately over the sands. In most
cases a lofty situation is an advantage, but here it is the reverse; for
so steep is the side of the cliff on which it stands, that the
inhabitants of the upper regions are completely smoke-dried from the
chimneys of all the dwellings beneath.
The new town stands at the base of the rock, and but for some mounds of
sand, that appear likely to grow into mountains by the influence of the
winds and waves, would inevitably be washed away by the spring tides.
Some of the fishermen’s habitations on the beach are at times buried in
the drifting sands; and, after a strong wind from the seaward, the
inhabitants generally labour hard to clear the obstruction from their
doors.
Barmouth had few visitors during my stay, and from the report of those I
met with, is greatly decreasing in popularity, which says but little in
favour of the lovers of fine scenery. When the tide is at full, the
panorama around the estuary cannot be surpassed in beauty. The majestic
river winds amongst rocks, clad with purple heather, or projecting in
barren grandeur, that lift their jagged summits tier over tier, and peak
overtopping peak, while still tremendous, towering over all, the lofty
Idris looms in the back ground. Green hills and woody promontories,
forests that stretch into the dark recesses of the mountains, villas and
copsewood glens, give an endless variety to the romantic scene.
The town contains about 2000 inhabitants, and there is a manufactory of
flannels and woollen stockings.
At noon, as I was basking upon the sands, or Friar’s Island, which is
situated at the mouth of the river, I had the pleasure to see my new
acquaintance and friend gallop into the town, and old Charon having
ferried me from the island to the main land once more, I hastened to
welcome him, as fast as my damaged limb would suffer me. He proposed
driving me to Corsygedol Hall, the seat of the Hon. E. M. L. Mostyn;
which being agreed to, I ordered dinner to be ready at our return, and we
started. The drive upon the Harlech road is bleak; upon the right, the
hills are barren; and seaward, beneath the road, is an extensive flat,
consisting chiefly of bog land and far from interesting. About a mile
and a half from the town stands the Church of Llan Aber, upon the extreme
verge of a cliff which overlooks the ocean. The Carnarvonshire mountains
have a fine effect stretching into the sea; of which the Rivals, with
their lofty peaks, are noble objects in the distance. Following the
chain, the eye rests for a moment upon Carn Bodean, and in the flat
between it and Carn Madryn is the town of Pwllheli. The chain is resumed
at Rhiw mountain, and terminates at Aberdaron point, three leagues from
which is Bardsey Island, a conspicuous and interesting object; for there
dwelt the bards of old, amongst whom were numbered the fathers of
science, the national interpreters, musicians, and legislators, priests,
and princes of Cambria. With their oratory they soothed the savage
ignorance of mankind into civilization and knowledge, and polished their
minds with the powerful aid of music and poetry. After the dreadful
slaughter of the monks of Bangor, those who survived took shelter upon
this island. A few ruined walls alone remain of the ancient abbey; and
the inhabitants, who do not exceed one hundred persons, support
themselves chiefly by fishing.
About three miles from Barmouth, upon the summit of the mountain called
Dinas Gortin, are the remains of a military encampment, and near to the
town there stood a tower, where it is said the Earl of Richmond used to
conceal himself, when he visited his secret allies in this part of the
country.
Near the military station, are the tombs of the celebrated men of
Ardudwy; who, in imitation of the Roman robbers, made an incursion into
Denbighshire, and overcoming the men, forcibly tore the women from their
families, and returned in triumph with them to their own country.
But the men of Denbighshire, rallying, pursued the spoilers, and
overtaking them in the pass of Drws Ardudwy, routed them with great
slaughter. But the infatuated women had by this time conceived so
extraordinary a passion for their violators, that rather than survive
their loss, or perhaps more probably, to escape the fury of their former
husbands, they drowned themselves in a lake, which is called the Llyn y
Morwynion, or Pool of the Maidens.
About two miles further, a road up a steep ascent conducted us to a fine
avenue of trees, through which we passed, and at the termination of it
came to a handsome gateway called Porth Mawr, which admitted us into the
mansion of Corsygedol, which has nothing in it to interest the tourist.
The interior of the building is incommodious and inelegant. The
drawing-room contains a few wretched portraits and high-backed chairs;
and the rest of the apartments are meanly furnished.
We returned to Barmouth by the sea shore, and after a most delightful
drive upon Neptune’s boundaries, arrived at the inn, where the evening
was passed in conviviality, tempered with prudence, and sweetened by
social and interesting conversation. As I had determined upon proceeding
to Harlech the following day, my companion was resolved to make the
journey as agreeable as possible, and requesting me to forward my
knapsack, &c., by the coach, informed me that he would be ready to
accompany me in the morning. Requesting him, therefore, to be early at
breakfast, we parted for the night.
After despatching a hasty meal next morning, the word was given “to horse
and away.” My old favourite who bore me so gallantly to the black
cataract, was again resigned to my care, and I to his, gentle as a lamb,
proud as a war horse, and agile as an antelope. I felt like an Arab, on
his steed, and I thought I could defy the winds to overtake me. We
proceeded once more to Corsygedol Hall, which was the appointed spot of
rendezvous for a pic-nic party. Here I had the happiness of meeting some
of the choicest flowers of the Welsh Highlands. Youth, beauty, freedom,
and innocence, beamed from the laughing eyes and unsullied cheeks of our
fair companions. The “how d’ye do’s?” “glad to see you,” “fine morning,”
&c., &c., being ended, we moved forward in a formidable cavalcade.
Mirth, wit, and pleasure played on the lips and sparkled in the eyes of
the whole party; and the animals that bore us seemed to partake of the
general feeling, by pricking up their glossy ears, and bounding over the
rugged road with more spirit than prudence. Much mirth was occasioned by
the opening of gates and crossing of brooks. At length the party plunged
into a beautiful wood. I paused upon an eminence to mark the effect as
they descended; it was picturesque in the extreme, as at intervals,
through the openings, I caught a partial glimpse of the troop, pursuing
their cheerful way down the steep path. Pleased with the sight, I passed
the party at a gallop, and arriving at the foot of the hill, remained
upon a bridge, close by the woodman’s cottage, which crosses a mountain
stream, watching their approach.
It was delightful to see them advancing one by one through the thick
foliage which hung on either side of the path, and arching over their
heads. On arriving at the foot of the descent, the party drew up, and,
had an artist been among us, I am confident he would have produced a
picture which, even on the lifeless canvass, would have delighted the
connoisseurs of Somerset House.
The variety of costume, the colour of the horses, the general sensation
of delight which lighted up the features of the gay group; the
picturesque cottage and bridge, the broad rushing stream, the waving
woods, with now and then a glimpse of the sterile mountains, peeping
above the beautiful fertility, formed a landscape which Salvator Rosa
himself would have been delighted to delineate.
[Picture: View from Carreg y Saeth]
Penetrating through a woody maze, a glen upon our right, and huge wild
masses of rock towering above our heads, we passed Cravnant, a house
situated in the deep shade of the lonely wood. The rocks now assumed a
wild and threatening aspect upon our left, as we emerged into a more open
track, and entered upon the domain of Dolwreiddiog, a little beyond which
commences perhaps the wildest scenery in North Wales. Descending by a
rocky path, we came to
LLYN Y CWM BYCHAN,
or, the lake of the little hollow, on the opposite margin of which, the
wild and dismal Carreg-y-Saeth, the rock of the arrow, rears its black
head in fearful grandeur. Cwm Bychan, is a grassy dell, surrounded on
all sides by the most frightful sterility; which, while we gazed with
wonder on the sublimity of the scene, made us shudder at the utter
desolation it presented. A poor cottage stands at the further end of the
valley, from which, having obtained a plentiful supply of milk, we
dismounted, and, fastening our steeds to the gates, we seated ourselves
under the shade of two trees, upon the inviting grass, which, like the
smiles of the world, proved but too treacherous; many a scream and laugh
announcing that the boggy soil had paid no respect to the garments of
either sex. Stones were therefore procured, and, having ranged them in a
magic circle, the whole party seated themselves to partake of the good
cheer, which a sturdy Welshman had borne upon his shoulders, and who now
advanced into the middle of the ring. Knives and forks began to play
with astonishing celerity. Fowls, ham, tongue, &c., vanished as if by
enchantment, and mirth and good humour added zest to the repast.
Our lunch being concluded, we again mounted our horses, and commenced an
ascent up a dank, cheerless hollow, called Bwlch Tyddiad. Nothing can
exceed the wildness of the scenery by which we were surrounded. Huge
masses of rock, riven by the thunderbolt, or loosened by the frost, lay
scattered in every direction, while towering upon either side, the
herbless mountains frowned, barren, black, grey, and terrible.
Our horses, accustomed, I presume, to such excursions, picked their way
with the greatest care and safety, and my “gallant brown” cleared every
impediment, as if he had been foaled amongst the Alps, and loved them
better than the verdant plain. Drawing nearer to the top of the cliff,
the shepherds had made a stair-like path of flat stones, along which our
Cavalcade proceeded with caution; when suddenly we halted upon hearing
the distant halloos of travellers ascending the opposite side of the
mountain, and presently three persons, one of whom was leading a wearied
animal by the bridle, became distinctly visible. A shout of recognition
from our party roused all the echoes of the surrounding hills. The
figures, as they became more distinct, seemed magically transported with
myself into the heart of the Sierra Morena, where Cardenio, Don Quixote,
and Sancho Panza, appeared to me in their proper persons; for never was
description better realized than in the figures that now presented
themselves. The first was a handsome, well formed man, with light brown
hair, which hung in plentiful thickness upon his shoulders; his untrimmed
beard, joined by overhanging mustachios, and the two being united to the
upper growth by a pair of whiskers, the luxuriance of which showed they
were permitted to grow in uninterrupted freedom. His throat was bare,
and his dress negligent. The second figure that attracted my attention,
was a very tall and extremely thin young man, with a serious cast of
features that would have done honour to the knight of the woful
countenance. In his hand he led a jaded hack, which in the ascent seemed
to have yielded up three parts of its existence. Here then was the
Rosinante of Cervantes in a breathing form; while, by his side, a short
good-humoured little man, with a large portmanteau buckled on his back,
walked like a faithful squire, and made an admirable substitute for the
immortal Sancho; and, as he turned his eyes from precipice to glen, it
required no great stretch of imagination to think they were wandering in
search of his beloved Dapple. We met upon a patch of green moss; and
here our hamper was again unpacked, to cheer the hearts of these
toil-worn travellers.
By their advice we ascended to the summit of the mountain, the view from
which was grand and extensive. To the eastward, a vast country lies
beneath, bounded by Cader Idris, the two Arrenigs, and a long range of
mountains. Immediately under the lofty eminence upon which we rested,
was a small round lake and the pass Ardudwy, which exceeds even the
celebrated Llanberis in rugged grandeur. The way by which our new
companions ascended was both laborious and dangerous; but they would not
have sacrificed the prospect now presented to them on any account. North
and south the eye glances over the summits of wild mountains, and to the
west the Carnarvonshire chain, cut in two, as it were, by a high
mountain, immediately before us, forms the shore of a noble sheet of
water, resembling a spacious lake, where the sea stretches its arm into
the Vale of Maentwrog, out of Cardigan Bay. The declining sun gave us
warning that it was time to quit these wilds, and make the best of our
way to the foot of the mountain.
The return is extremely hazardous on horseback. The ladies of the party
therefore, resigning their steeds to the conduct of some mountaineers,
and the gentlemen leading their horses by the bridle, commenced the
descent. But as I could not from lameness advantage myself by like
caution, and feeling confident in the tact, strength, and docility of my
favourite, I led the way, without experiencing the slightest symptom of
uneasiness.
When we had proceeded about half way down, a circumstance occurred that
occasioned some unpleasantness. A horse had broken loose from one of the
leaders, and at full speed came galloping down the steep and rugged
descent. The animal conducted by the tall, thin gentlemen before
described, started as his fellow quadruped rushed by him, and, freeing
himself from control, dashed after him at an alarming pace, leaving his
late master, with eyes starting out of their sockets, and mouth wide open
with affright, his arms spread out, and his whole frame in convulsions of
terror, upon the top of a large stone, ludicrously bewildered. My steed,
evincing the truth of the proverb, “evil communications,” &c., for a
moment lost his presence of mind, and despising my efforts to restrain
him, bounded over sundry perilous rocky fragments in desperate pursuit.
However, by divers forcible arguments, I at length succeeded in
convincing him of his error, and he returned to his duty.
The two runaways were soon out of sight, and as we concluded they had
broken their necks, we moved rather solemnly to the bottom of the hollow,
where our fears were dissipated, by finding them quietly browsing in the
green meadows, where we had before seated ourselves at pic-nic. All here
remounted; the sun’s rays still lingering upon the heights of
Carreg-y-Saeth, but the pool below looked black and cheerless. As we
proceeded, the beautiful calm light of evening, the cool and refreshing
air, “the shard borne beetle, with his drowsy hum,” the forest flies and
midges dancing in the clear ether, the murmuring of mountain streams, and
the joyous notes of our little party, uniting with the sharp tones of our
horses’ shoes, clinking against the rocky fragments, formed a combination
of pleasing sounds and images in this romantic solitude, which I shall
ever remember with feelings of interest and delight. After riding about
three miles, surrounded by every charm that could make the time pass
pleasantly, we arrived at the place of parting. A road branching to the
right led directly to Harlech, a distance of about two miles; and here,
with a feeling of regret, I hardly ever before experienced, I took leave
of my kind conductor, and his agreeable friends, a man being appointed to
walk with me as far as Harlech, for the purpose of taking back his
master’s horse.
Slowly and sadly I pursued my solitary ride, nor did I once address my
attendant, until I arrived at the inn, where, dismounting, I committed to
his charge my gallant supporter throughout the day.