And
Now, My Gentleman, We Are Close Upon Tregaron."
After descending a hill we came to what looked a small suburb, and
presently crossed a bridge over the stream, the waters of which
sparkled merrily in the beams of the moon which was now shining
bright over some lofty hills to the south-east.
Beyond the bridge
was a small market-place, on the right-hand side of which stood an
ancient looking church. The place upon the whole put me very much
in mind of an Andalusian village overhung by its sierra. "Where is
the inn?" said I to my companion.
"Yonder it be;" said he pointing to a large house at the farther
end of the market-place. "Very good inn that - Talbot Arms - where
they are always glad to see English gentlemans." Then touching his
hat, and politely waving his hand, he turned on one side, and I saw
him no more.
CHAPTER XCIII
Tregaron Church - The Minister - Good Morning - Tom Shone's
Disguises - Tom and the Lady - Klim and Catti.
I EXPERIENCED very good entertainment at the Tregaron Inn, had an
excellent supper and a very comfortable bed. I arose at about
eight in the morning. The day was dull and misty. After
breakfast, according to my usual fashion, I took a stroll to see
about. The town, which is very small, stands in a valley, near
some wild hills called the Berwyn, like the range to the south of
Llangollen. The stream, which runs through it and which falls into
the Teivi at a little distance from the town, is called the
Brennig, probably because it descends from the Berwyn hills. These
southern Berwyns form a very extensive mountain region, extending
into Brecon and Carmarthenshire, and contain within them, as I long
subsequently found, some of the wildest solitudes and most romantic
scenery in Wales. High up amidst them, at about five miles from
Tregaron, is a deep, broad lake which constitutes the source of the
Towy, a very beautiful stream, which after many turnings and
receiving the waters of numerous small streams discharges itself
into Carmarthen Bay.
I did not fail to pay a visit to Tregaron church. It is an antique
building with a stone tower. The door being open, as the door of a
church always should be, I entered, and was kindly shown by the
clerk, whom I met in the aisle, all about the sacred edifice.
There was not much to be seen. Amongst the monuments was a stone
tablet to John Herbert, who died 1690. The clerk told me that the
name of the clergyman of Tregaron was Hughes; he said that he was
an excellent, charitable man, who preached the Gospel, and gave
himself great trouble in educating the children of the poor. He
certainly seemed to have succeeded in teaching them good manners:
as I was leaving the church, I met a number of little boys
belonging to the church school: no sooner did they see me than
they drew themselves up it, a rank on one side, and as I passed
took off their caps and simultaneously shouted, "Good-morning!"
And now something with respect to the celebrated hero of Tregaron,
Tom Shone Catti, concerning whom I picked up a good deal during my
short stay there, and of whom I subsequently read something in
printed books. (14)
According to the tradition of the country, he was the illegitimate
son of Sir John Wynn of Gwedir, by one Catherine Jones of Tregaron,
and was born at a place called Fynnon Lidiart, close by Tregaron,
towards the conclusion of the sixteenth century. He was baptised
by the name of Thomas Jones, but was generally called Tom Shone
Catti, that is Tom Jones, son of Catti or Catherine. His mother,
who was a person of some little education, brought him up, and
taught him to read and write. His life, till his eighteenth year,
was much like other peasant boys; he kept crows, drove bullocks,
and learned to plough and harrow, but always showed a disposition
to roguery and mischief. Between eighteen and nineteen, in order
to free himself and his mother from poverty which they had long
endured, he adopted the profession of a thief, and soon became
celebrated through the whole of Wales for the cleverness and
adroitness which he exercised in his calling; qualities in which he
appears to have trusted much more than in strength and daring,
though well endowed with both. His disguises were innumerable, and
all impenetrable; sometimes he would appear as an ancient crone;
sometimes as a begging cripple; sometimes as a broken soldier.
Though by no means scrupulous as to what he stole, he was
particularly addicted to horse and cattle stealing, and was no less
successful in altering the appearance of animals than his own, as
he would frequently sell cattle to the very persons from whom he
had stolen them, after they had been subjected to such a
metamorphosis, by means of dyes and the scissors, that recognition
was quite impossible. Various attempts were made to apprehend him,
but all without success; he was never at home to people who
particularly wanted him, or if at home he looked anything but the
person they came in quest of. Once a strong and resolute man, a
farmer, who conceived, and very justly, that Tom had abstracted a
bullock from his stall, came to Tregaron well armed in order to
seize him. Riding up to the door of Tom's mother, he saw an aged
and miserable-looking object, with a beggar's staff and wallet,
sitting on a stone bench beside the door. Does Tom Shone Catti
live here?" said the farmer. "Oh yes, he lives here," replied the
beggar. "Is he at home?" "Oh yes, he is at home." "Will you hold
my horse whilst I go in and speak to him?" "Oh yes, I will hold
your horse." Thereupon the man dismounted, took a brace of pistols
out of his holsters, gave the cripple his horse's bridle and
likewise his whip, and entered the house boldly.
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