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.

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.