"Y matter, y matter!" said the postman in a tone of
exultation, "Sebastopol wedi cymmeryd. Hurrah!"
"What does he say?" said my wife anxiously to me.
"Why, that Sebastopol is taken," said I.
"Then you have been mistaken," said my wife smiling, "for you
always said that the place would either not be taken at all or
would cost the allies to take it a deal of time and an immense
quantity of blood and treasure, and here it is taken at once, for
the allies only landed the other day. Well, thank God, you have
been mistaken!"
"Thank God, indeed," said I, "always supposing that I have been
mistaken - but I hardly think from what I have known of the
Russians that they would let their town - however, let us hope that
they have let it be taken. Hurrah!"
We reached our dwelling. My wife and daughter went in. John Jones
betook himself to his cottage, and I went into the town, in which
there was a great excitement; a wild running troop of boys were
shouting "Sebastopol wedi cymmeryd. Hurrah! Hurrah!" Old Mr Jones
was standing bare-headed at his door. "Ah," said the old
gentleman, "I am glad to see you. Let us congratulate each other,"
he added, shaking me by the hand. "Sebastopol taken, and in so
short a time. How fortunate!"
"Fortunate indeed," said I, returning his hearty shake; "I only
hope it may be true."
"Oh, there can be no doubt of its being true," said the old
gentleman. "The accounts are most positive. Come in, and I will
tell you all the circumstances." I followed him into his little
back parlour, where we both sat down.
"Now," said the old church clerk, "I will tell you all about it.
The allies landed about twenty miles from Sebastopol and proceeded
to march against it. When nearly half way they found the Russians
posted on a hill. Their position was naturally very strong, and
they had made it more so by means of redoubts and trenches.
However, the allies undismayed, attacked the enemy, and after a
desperate resistance, drove them over the hill, and following fast
at their heels entered the town pell-mell with them, taking it and
all that remained alive of the Russian army. And what do you
think? The Welsh highly distinguished themselves. The Welsh
fusileers were the first to mount the hill. They suffered horribly
- indeed almost the whole regiment was cut to pieces; but what of
that? they showed that the courage of the Ancient Britons still
survives in their descendants. And now I intend to stand beverage.
I assure you I do. No words! I insist upon it. I have heard you
say you are fond of good ale, and I intend to fetch you a pint of
such ale as I am sure you never drank in your life." Thereupon he
hurried out of the room, and through the shop into the street.
"Well," said I, when I was by myself, "if this news does not
regularly surprise me! I can easily conceive that the Russians
would be beaten in a pitched battle by the English and French - but
that they should have been so quickly followed up by the allies, as
not to be able to shut their gates and man their walls, is to me
inconceivable. Why, the Russians retreat like the wind, and have a
thousand ruses at command, in order to retard an enemy. So at
least I thought, but it is plain that I know nothing about them,
nor indeed much of my own countrymen; I should never have thought
that English soldiers could have marched fast enough to overtake
Russians, more especially with such a being to command them, as -,
whom I, and indeed almost every one else have always considered a
dead weight on the English service. I suppose, however, that both
they and their commander were spurred on by the active French."
Presently the old church clerk made his appearance with a glass in
one hand, and a brown jug of ale in the other.
"Here," said he, filling the glass, "is some of the real Llangollen
ale. I got it from the little inn, the Eagle, over the way, which
was always celebrated for its ale. They stared at me when I went
in and asked for a pint of ale, as they knew that for twenty years
I have drunk no liquor whatever, owing to the state of my stomach,
which will not allow me to drink anything stronger than water and
tea. I told them, however, it was for a gentleman, a friend of
mine, whom I wished to treat in honour of the fall of Sebastopol."
I would fain have excused myself, but the old gentleman insisted on
my drinking.
"Well," said I, taking the glass, "thank God that our gloomy
forebodings are not likely to be realised. Oes y byd i'r glod
Frythoneg! May Britain's glory last as long as the world!"
Then, looking for a moment at the ale, which was of a dark-brown
colour, I put the glass to my lips and drank.
"Ah!" said the old church clerk, "I see you like it, for you have
emptied the glass at a draught."
"It is good ale," said I.
"Good," said the old gentleman rather hastily, "good; did you ever
taste any so good in your life?"
"Why, as to that," said I, "I hardly know what to say; I have drunk
some very good ale in my day. However, I'll trouble you for
another glass."
"Oh ho, you will," said the old gentleman; "that's enough; if you
did not think it first-rate, you would not ask for more. This,"
said he, as he filled the glass again, "is genuine malt and hop
liquor, brewed in a way only known, they say, to some few people in
this place.
