"I Will Not Eat Of
The Leaves Of The Forest," Said Collen.
"Did you ever see men better dressed?" said the king, "than my
attendants here in red and blue?"
"Their dress is good enough," said Collen, "considering what kind
of dress it is."
"What kind of dress is it?" said the king.
Collen replied: "The red on the one side denotes burning, and the
blue on the other side denotes freezing." Then drawing forth his
sprinkler, he flung the holy water in the faces of the king and his
people, whereupon the whole vision disappeared, so that there was
neither castle nor attendants, nor youth nor damsel, nor musician
with his music, nor banquet, nor anything to be seen save the green
bushes.
The valley of the Dee, of which the Llangollen district forms part,
is called in the British tongue Glyndyfrdwy - that is, the valley
of the Dwy or Dee. The celebrated Welsh chieftain, generally known
as Owen Glendower, was surnamed after this valley, the whole of
which belonged to him, and in which he had two or three places of
strength, though his general abode was a castle in Sycharth, a
valley to the south-east of the Berwyn, and distant about twelve
miles from Llangollen.
Connected with the Dee there is a wonderful Druidical legend to the
following effect. The Dee springs from two fountains, high up in
Merionethshire, called Dwy Fawr and Dwy Fach, or the great and
little Dwy, whose waters pass through those of the lake of Bala
without mingling with them, and come out at its northern extremity.
These fountains had their names from two individuals, Dwy Fawr and
Dwy Fach, who escaped from the Deluge, when all the rest of the
human race were drowned, and the passing of the waters of the two
fountains through the lake, without being confounded with its
flood, is emblematic of the salvation of the two individuals from
the Deluge, of which the lake is a type.
Dinas Bran, which crowns the top of the mighty hill on the northern
side of the valley, is a ruined stronghold of unknown antiquity.
The name is generally supposed to signify Crow Castle, bran being
the British word for crow, and flocks of crows being frequently
seen hovering over it. It may, however, mean the castle of Bran or
Brennus, or the castle above the Bran, a brook which flows at its
foot.
Dinas Bran was a place quite impregnable in the old time, and
served as a retreat to Gruffydd, son of Madawg from the rage of his
countrymen, who were incensed against him because, having married
Emma, the daughter of James Lord Audley, he had, at the instigation
of his wife and father-in-law, sided with Edward the First against
his own native sovereign. But though it could shield him from his
foes, it could not preserve him from remorse and the stings of
conscience, of which he speedily died.
At present the place consists only of a few ruined walls, and
probably consisted of little more two or three hundred years ago:
Roger Cyffyn a Welsh bard, who flourished at the beginning of the
seventeenth century, wrote an englyn upon it, of which the
following is a translation:-
"Gone, gone are thy gates, Dinas Bran on the height!
Thy warders are blood-crows and ravens, I trow;
Now no one will wend from the field of the fight
To the fortress on high, save the raven and crow."
CHAPTER VII
Poor Black Cat - Dissenters - Persecution - What Impudence!
THE house or cottage, for it was called a cottage though it
consisted of two stories, in which my wife had procured lodgings
for us, was situated in the Northern suburb. Its front was towards
a large perllan or orchard, which sloped down gently to the banks
of the Dee; its back was towards the road leading from Wrexham,
behind which was a high bank, on the top of which was a canal
called in Welsh the Camlas, whose commencement was up the valley
about two miles west. A little way up the road, towards Wrexham,
was the vicarage and a little way down was a flannel factory,
beyond which was a small inn, with pleasure grounds, kept by an
individual who had once been a gentleman's servant. The mistress
of the house was a highly respectable widow, who, with a servant
maid was to wait upon us. It was as agreeable a place in all
respects as people like ourselves could desire.
As I and my family sat at tea in our parlour, an hour or two after
we had taken possession of our lodgings, the door of the room and
that of the entrance to the house being open, on account of the
fineness of the weather, a poor black cat entered hastily, sat down
on the carpet by the table, looked up towards us, and mewed
piteously. I never had seen so wretched a looking creature. It
was dreadfully attenuated, being little more than skin and bone,
and was sorely afflicted with an eruptive malady. And here I may
as well relate the history of this cat previous to our arrival
which I subsequently learned by bits and snatches. It had belonged
to a previous vicar of Llangollen, and had been left behind at his
departure. His successor brought with him dogs and cats, who,
conceiving that the late vicar's cat had no business at the
vicarage, drove it forth to seek another home, which, however, it
could not find. Almost all the people of the suburb were
dissenters, as indeed were the generality of the people of
Llangollen, and knowing the cat to be a church cat, not only would
not harbour it, but did all they could to make it miserable; whilst
the few who were not dissenters, would not receive it into their
houses, either because they had cats of their own, or dogs, or did
not want a cat, so that the cat had no home and was dreadfully
persecuted by nine-tenths of the suburb.
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