AFTER walking about a mile with the cataract always in sight, I
emerged from the glen into an oblong valley extending from south to
north, having lofty hills on all sides, especially on the west,
from which direction the cataract comes. I advanced across the
vale till within a furlong of this object, when I was stopped by a
deep hollow or nether vale into which the waters of the cataract
tumble. On the side of this hollow I sat down, and gazed down
before me and on either side. The water comes spouting over a crag
of perhaps two hundred feet in altitude between two hills, one
south-east and the other nearly north. The southern hill is wooded
from the top, nearly down to where the cataract bursts forth; and
so, but not so thickly, is the northern hill, which bears a
singular resemblance to a hog's back. Groves of pine are on the
lower parts of both; in front of a grove low down on the northern
hill is a small white house of a picturesque appearance. The water
of the cataract, after reaching the bottom of the precipice, rushes
in a narrow brook down the vale in the direction of Llan Rhyadr.
To the north-east, between the hog-backed hill and another strange-
looking mountain, is a wild glen, from which comes a brook to swell
the waters discharged by the Rhyadr. The south-west side of the
vale is steep, and from a cleft of a hill in that quarter a slender
stream rushing impetuously joins the brook of the Rhyadr, like the
rill of the northern glen. The principal object of the whole is of
course the Rhyadr. What shall I liken it to? I scarcely know,
unless to an immense skein of silk agitated and disturbed by
tempestuous blasts, or to the long tail of a grey courser at
furious speed. Through the profusion of long silvery threads or
hairs, or what looked such, I could here and there see the black
sides of the crag down which the Rhyadr precipitated itself with
something between a boom and a roar.
After sitting on the verge of the hollow for a considerable time I
got up, and directed my course towards the house in front of the
grove. I turned down the path which brought me to the brook which
runs from the northern glen into the waters discharged by the
Rhyadr, and crossing it by stepping-stones, found myself on the
lowest spur of the hog-backed hill. A steep path led towards the
house. As I drew near two handsome dogs came rushing to welcome
the stranger. Coming to a door on the northern side of the house I
tapped, and a handsome girl of about thirteen making her
appearance, I inquired in English the nearest way the waterfall;
she smiled, and in her native language said that she had no Saxon.
On my telling her in Welsh that I was come to see the Pistyll she
smiled again, and said that I was welcome, then taking me round the
house, she pointed to a path and bade me follow it. I followed the
path which led downward to a tiny bridge of planks, a little way
below the fall. I advanced to the middle of the bridge, then
turning to the west, looked at the wonderful object before me.
There are many remarkable cataracts in Britain and the neighbouring
isles, even the little Celtic Isle of Man has its remarkable
waterfall; but this Rhyadr, the grand cataract of North Wales, far
exceeds them all in altitude and beauty, though it is inferior to
several of them in the volume of its flood. I never saw water
falling so gracefully, so much like thin beautiful threads, as
here. Yet even this cataract has its blemish. What beautiful
object has not something which more or less mars its loveliness?
There is an ugly black bridge or semi-circle of rock, about two
feet in diameter and about twenty feet high, which rises some
little way below it, and under which the water, after reaching the
bottom, passes, which intercepts the sight, and prevents it from
taking in the whole fall at once. This unsightly object has stood
where it now stands since the day of creation, and will probably
remain there to the day of judgment. It would be a desecration of
nature to remove it by art, but no one could regret if nature in
one of her floods were to sweep it away.
As I was standing on the planks a woman plainly but neatly dressed
came from the house. She addressed me in very imperfect English,
saying that she was the mistress of the house and should be happy
to show me about. I thanked her for her offer, and told her that
she might speak Welsh, whereupon she looked glad, and said in that
tongue that she could speak Welsh much better than Saesneg. She
took me by a winding path up a steep bank on the southern side of
the fall to a small plateau, and told me that was the best place to
see the Pistyll from. I did not think so, for we were now so near
that we were almost blinded by the spray, though, it is true, the
semicircle of rock no longer impeded the sight; this object we now
saw nearly laterally rising up like a spectral arch, spray and foam
above it, and water rushing below. "That is a bridge rather for
ysprydoedd (9) to pass over than men," said I.
"It is," said the woman; "but I once saw a man pass over it."
"How did he get up?" said I. "The sides are quite steep and
slippery."
"He wriggled to the sides like a llysowen, (10) till he got to the
top, when he stood upright for a minute, and then slid down on the
other side."
"Was he any one from these parts?" said I.
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