On January 9th, 1865, three men set off from Bangor to walk to the Cwm Eigiau quarry, some 500 metres above sea level on the edge of the Carneddau mountains. It seems likely that they had left the quarry on the Saturday to spend Sunday at home with their families and attending church, before returning on Monday. They had been travelling back and forth between the two places for around two months, working at fitting up machinery at the quarry, so this must have been a familiar journey for them. Walking across the high Carneddau in the depths of winter, though, can easily be fatal when the weather is bad.
Watch a video of the walk here.
The men started from Bangor; they worked at the Menai Foundry in Hirael, a business which belonged to John Owen & Co. until the 1950s, but is now National Tyres & Autocare. William Jones, 44, was a smith. Owen Jones, 50, was a millwright; in the 1861 census he’s described as a ‘pattern maker in the iron foundry’. William Owen was also a millwright, the son of the boss.
They reached Bethesda through a combination of walking and lifts, stopping at Halfway-house for a glass of ale. On reaching Bethesda they took two or three glasses at the Ship Inn (the location of the Ship is uncertain), before passing through the Pant Dreiniog quarry - now a grassed area tight against the centre of Bethesda. William Jones having bought 3 shillings worth of rum in the Ship Inn, for the road, as it were, they then stopped at the George Inn - Y Sior - for more ale, and a bite to eat of the food they had in their pockets.
Y Siôr, on the Carneddi Road, Bethesda. I'd hoped to be able to drop in for a drink - non-alcoholic - but this wouldn't have been practical with the dogs, and even less practical since the place doesn't open until 4 on a Friday. The then landlady of the George Inn, Mrs Parry, remembered the men's visit and described William Jones as 'a little worse for drink.' Owen Jones, although he had drunk as least as much, did not seem to be affected.
When they left the inn it had started to rain heavily. William Jones popped back to light his pipe and left the other two men waiting outside; after a time William Owen went to fetch him, and found him sitting by the fire chattering with the landlady. (The accounts aren't entirely clear as to whether this was the landlady of the George Inn, or another house.)
We walked up out of Bethesda on a beautiful, fresh spring day, that must have been vastly different to the freezing rain that the three men encountered in 1865. Some of great slate quarries can be seen in the distance. A quick glance at the 1861 census shows the majority of people living here were employed as slate quarrymen. We passed a man on the walk up here who said 6000 people used to be employed in the quarries.
Either we slightly missed our way here, or, I think, it was just that the footpath access wasn't great. Two footpaths converge here and we were coming up the path that goes through the gate just out of sight on the right of the picture, not up the defined track on the left. The gate was padlocked closed. Next time I think the other route might be easier. It seemed rather apt, though, that this route took us past a tiny hillfort called Pen y Gaer, since we live under the shadow of the larger Pen y Gaer on the other side of the mountains.
Looking back down over Bethesda, and, I think, over the site of the Pant Dreiniog Quarry, which you could hardly tell was once an industrial landscape.
Walking up the track past the hills Llefn and Gyrn. The newspaper articles relating the story of the three men refer to the 'Llanbedr Road' - where the path splits either side of Carnedd Gwenllian to take you either down to Llanbedr or across to Cwm Eigiau - and looking at the old maps it's easy to discern a whole network of ways that have essentially become lost to the modern world. These paths are used by walkers, but it's apparent that before the advent of the combustion engine and the need for tarmac, in some ways our travel in this area of the world was far less hampered by geographical barriers like mountains. The peaks are criss-crossed with roads, if you're only willing or able to use leg power instead of wheels.
On the edge of Gyrn, we stopped for a moment's rest in a small quarry. Perhaps the three men might have found shelter here. The accounts tell of the men sheltering in a pen, and of Owen Jones and William Jones begging William Owen for a drop of the rum they had with them, because they were so cold and tired. It sounds as if William Owen had offered to carry the rum because he was afraid of how affected the men were by drink, although there's no testimony to William Owen's level of intoxication. At times he also carried Owen Jones' bag.
Walking past Gyrn, which looks as if it were made simply by dropping down a heap of rubble.
In places the track up along the side of Drosgl, towards Bera Bach, is very good indeed, and looks as if it's been made to take vehicles of some kind.
Heading up to Bera Bach. If we had been three men making for Cwm Eigiau in a storm, we would have carried on around the edge, but I've never been up Bera Bach before so I decided to go up to the top.
Looking back down the broad valley towards Bethesda.
Reaching the top of Bera Bach, which, like so many of these Carneddau peaks, is littered with fractured stone.
It's thought that once the mountains of Eryri were as high as the Himalayas are now, so what we're seeing in these tumbled heaps of stone are the deep insides of once huge mountains, broken down over millennia by the ravages of water and frost.
For a long time we didn't feel as if we were gaining much height, but it was a steady climb from Bethesda, and a steeper one past the edge of Drosgl. Suddenly on Bera Bach, 807m, we seemed to be at a proper mountain elevation.
Looking from Bera Bach towards Carnedd Llewelyn. The newspaper reports about the tragedy made much of the men crossing Carnedd Llewelyn, which is only about 20 metres lower than the top of Yr Wyddfa, but in fact they would have gone around the edge and never got quite that high. The newspapers seem to be using 'Carnedd Llewelyn' as a catch-all for the whole area.
Bera Mawr on the left, beyond Bera Bach, with Llwytmor rising beyond. Ironically, Bera Mawr is actually lower than Bera Bach.
I have always loved these dark mountain pools that sit up on the flat peat land between the peaks, with their astonishing range of colour mixing sky blue and a peaty black, the yellow-green reflections of the ravaged grass, and the ochre of slabs of stone.
Another mountain pool with a deceptive layer of sediment. Sometimes the dogs plunge into these and discover they're deeper than they expect. In wintery conditions you have to look out for these under the crust of snow.
Heading up towards Yr Aryg and leaving Bera Bach behind. The view of Ynys Môn was discernable to the naked eye, and at times we could see the full length of the Menai Strait, but it was so hazy that it's hard to make out in photos.
Reaching Yr Aryg, just west of Carnedd Gwenllian (formerly Carnedd Uchaf). Just beyond here the road splits, the left fork taking one down to Pen y Gaer and into Llanbedr, and the right branching off to Cwm Eigiau.
The splintered top of Yr Aryg, at 866 metres, isn't regarded as a mountain in its own right, but it feels enough like one when you're up there.
It's a bleak and beautiful wilderness up here. On the side of Yr Aryg, with Owen Jones out in front, William Jones and William Owen were caught by such a violent squall of wind that it threw them to the ground. William Owen recounted winds that pitched them 'some yards distant,' and spoke of having to cling to the heather to stop himself from being blown away. Once they were passing over the top of the great hump of land and reaching the eastern side, with the cliffs of Dulyn and Melynllyn nearby, there would have been a very real fear of being blown over the drop.
It seems the trio had passed Yr Aryg, coming to what's described as the '“gate” of the hill', probably where the path splits around Carnedd Gwenllian. They had a discussion on whether they were on the right road, and carried on a little way towards Cwm Eigiau, but somehow William Owen ended up out in front of the other two men. How this happened isn't really addressed. William Owen is supposed to have said 'I made the best of my way, thinking that they would do the same.' It's hard to know if this was a case of being tired of walking with two reluctant travellers, of William Owen simply getting to a point where he was most concerned about his own safety, if they argued about the way, or if they just became separated as each tried to progress through the storm. However it happened, William Owen lost the other two men.
He arrived safely at the Cwm Eigiau quarry by half past five, after night had fallen, no doubt vastly relieved to be somewhere with warmth and shelter at last after a terrifying experience on the hills. The other men didn't arrive. The following Tuesday was too stormy for anyone to venture over the mountain for news, and a letter he wrote on Thursday to report the incident was miscarried. His next letter reached Bangor on Saturday. A succession of men went out searching, including quarrymen from Cwm Eigiau, fifteen men from the Pant Dreiniog quarry with their overseer R Owens, and 35 men from Caebraichcafn quarry with their overseer Mr Francis. John Owen, the owner of the Menai Foundry, also joined search efforts.
William Jones must have turned back after William Owen became separated. It's unclear whether all three men lost each other or if William Jones and Owen Jones continued together for a while. At any rate, William Jones must have decided to make his way either back towards Bethesda or towards the junction of the roads between Llanbedr and Cwm Eigiau. On Friday, 24th February, forty-six days after he went missing, his body was found on the top of Yr Aryg. He was described as being found ‘lying on a heap of stones, exposed to the storm, without any shelter whatever near him; his eyes and mouth open, his head and back frozen to the ground and a part of one of his shoes torn’. Perhaps he was wandering and lost, because one of the searchers stated that he was ‘between 100 and 200 yards from the path which would lead him to his destination’. William Jones was buried on Monday, February 27th, in the Bangor New Cemetery. He left behind a widow, and a daughter by a former wife.
Owen Jones' body wasn't found until the Sunday, the 2nd of April. Shepherd William Jones from Bron y Gadair, a relatively well-to-do farm nestled under the side of Pen y Gadair above Llanbedr-y-Cennin, went up onto the mountain with a lad and his dogs. They were following the path from Llanbedr to Bethesda, but the dogs apparently caught sight or scent something half a mile away, and raced off over the snow. The lad with them was taken so ill at the sight of the body that the shepherd didn't report the find until the next day. Then he travelled to Bangor, with his dog in tow, to inform John Owen of the Menai Foundry, and the relatives of the dead man. The body was brought down to the Victoria Inn in Bethesda, although it was frozen so hard one witness said it 'was like a piece of solid ice.' An adze had to be used to recover his pocket watch.
Owen Jones was buried in the Bangor New Cemetery on the Tuesday following, leaving a widow and seven young children. For their benefit an entertainer known as Professor Whitworth put on one of his 'unequalled entertainments', involving magic, ventriloquism, and 'laughable chemical experiments'. He was advertised as having performed in front of Queen Victoria, the Emperor and Empress of the French, and other crowned heads of Europe, and the performance raised £17.19.7 for the widow and her family. (Professor Whitworth seems to be a story entirely in his own right - read through some fascinating newspaper stories about him here, included his being jailed for larceny, his 'homaeopathic' charitable giving, and his complete inability to speak Welsh.)
Owen Jones' body wasn't found until the Sunday, the 2nd of April. Shepherd William Jones from Bron y Gadair, a relatively well-to-do farm nestled under the side of Pen y Gadair above Llanbedr-y-Cennin, went up onto the mountain with a lad and his dogs. They were following the path from Llanbedr to Bethesda, but the dogs apparently caught sight or scent something half a mile away, and raced off over the snow. The lad with them was taken so ill at the sight of the body that the shepherd didn't report the find until the next day. Then he travelled to Bangor, with his dog in tow, to inform John Owen of the Menai Foundry, and the relatives of the dead man. The body was brought down to the Victoria Inn in Bethesda, although it was frozen so hard one witness said it 'was like a piece of solid ice.' An adze had to be used to recover his pocket watch.
Owen Jones was buried in the Bangor New Cemetery on the Tuesday following, leaving a widow and seven young children. For their benefit an entertainer known as Professor Whitworth put on one of his 'unequalled entertainments', involving magic, ventriloquism, and 'laughable chemical experiments'. He was advertised as having performed in front of Queen Victoria, the Emperor and Empress of the French, and other crowned heads of Europe, and the performance raised £17.19.7 for the widow and her family. (Professor Whitworth seems to be a story entirely in his own right - read through some fascinating newspaper stories about him here, included his being jailed for larceny, his 'homaeopathic' charitable giving, and his complete inability to speak Welsh.)
Another meandering mountaintop pool.
Walking towards the edge of Carnedd Gwenllian, looking back towards Yr Aryg.
Bethesda is far in the distance now, disappearing into the haze.
These rocks struck me as we walked around Carnedd Gwenllian, with their vertical splits, but diagonal lines of erosion across them.
After passing Carnedd Gwenllian we were finally on the eastern side of the Carneddau, and we stopped for a bit of lunch. From reading the accounts of the men's crossing it seems that this was where William Owen was battling through raging wind.
Although the footpath from Carnedd Gwenllian to Cwm Eigiau is quite clear on the map, it doesn't seem very evident on the ground. The path that passes from Drum over Foel Fras, Carnedd Gwenllian, Foel Grach, and Carnedd Llewlyn shows as a great scar across the tops, but we had to branch off towards the south east. We ended up some way east of the path, I think because of a natural inclination not to gain too much unnecessary height on the edge of Foel Grach. We were far enough from the cliffs of Dulyn and Melynllyn that it wasn't a worry. The land is quite boggy in areas, though.
The view down Pant y Griafolen, with Dulyn hidden below the nearby
cliffs. It was so hazy that nothing much beyond this edge of the Conwy
Valley was visible.
Still cutting across the east side of Foel Grach, and the boggy land starts to become punctured with rocks.
It seems incredible that such a small stream can carve out such a deep channel through the peat.
The land is much drier here, and feels like a very special place to walk through, with all the split rocks scattered over the yellowed grass.
This little series of rocks always makes me think of a dragon's spines, poking up through the earth.
At last we're coming down into Cwm Eigiau. Although this valley is high and remote, it's considerably more sheltered than the mountains above. The quarry can be seen on the other side.
With the sun setting by around 16:20, it was night time by the time William Owen was walking down here, exhausted at the end of his journey. It's not exactly a gruelling hill to walk down, but it is hard, with all the tufts of grass and patches of moss and rushes, and the streams splitting the land.
Closer to the quarry, the levels and spoil tips can easily be seen. Although the quarry is a small one it still dwarfs the buildings on the site.
It's impossible to know which building William Owen would have staggered to. Perhaps the work day had ended when he arrived around 17:30. Hopefully he arrived to a warm room and hot food and drink. One set of what seems to be lodgings here still has bits of render left on the walls.
A view from near the wheel pit over the ruins of what must have been the workshops, perhaps where the men were fitting up the machinery.
Fascinating tale, well told.
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