Beyond The Tramway Was A Grove
Of Yellow-Looking Firs; Beyond The Grove A Range Of White Houses
With Blue
Roofs, occupied, I suppose, by miners and their families;
and beyond these I caught a sight of the mountain on
The top of
which I had been the night before - only a partial one, however, as
large masses of mist were still hanging about it. The morning was
moist and dripping, and nothing could look more cheerless and
uncomfortable than the entire scene.
I put on my things, which were still not half dry, and went down
into the little parlour, where I found an excellent fire awaiting
me, and a table spread for breakfast. The breakfast was delicious,
consisting of excellent tea, buttered toast, and Glamorgan
sausages, which I really think are not a whit inferior to those of
Epping. After breakfast I went into the kitchen, which was now
only occupied by two or three people. Seeing a large brush on a
dresser, I took it up, and was about to brush my nether
habiliments, which were terribly bespattered with half-dried mire.
Before, however, I could begin, up started one of the men, a wild,
shock-headed fellow dressed like a carter, in rough blue frieze
coat, yellow, broad corduroy trowsers, grey woollen stockings and
highlows, and snatching the brush out of my hand, fell to brushing
me most vigorously, puffing and blowing all the time in a most
tremendous manner. I did not refuse his services, but let him go
on, and to reward him as I thought, spoke kindly to him, asking him
various questions. "Are you a carter?" said I. No answer. "One
of Twm O'r Nant's people?" No answer. "Famous fellow that Twm O'r
Nant, wasn't he? Did you ever hear how he got the great tree in at
Carmarthen Gate? What is wood per foot at present? Whom do you
cart for? Or are you your own master? If so, how many horses do
you keep?"
To not one of these questions, nor to a dozen others which I put,
both in English and Welsh, did my friend with the brush return any
verbal answer, though I could occasionally hear a kind of stifled
giggle proceeding from him. Having at length thoroughly brushed
not only my clothes, but my boots and my hat, which last article he
took from my head, and placed it on again very dexterously, after
brushing it, he put the brush down on the dresser, and then
advancing to me made me a bow, and waving his forefinger backwards
and forwards before my face, he said, with a broad grin: "Nice
gentleman - will do anything for him but answer questions, and let
him hear my discourse. Love to listen to his pleasant stories of
foreign lands, ghosts and tylwith teg; but before him, deem it wise
to be mum, quite mum. Know what he comes about. Wants to hear
discourse of poor man, that he may learn from it poor man's little
ways and infirmities, and mark them down in one small, little book
to serve for fun to Lord Palmerston and the other great gentlefolks
in London. Nice man, civil man, I don't deny; and clebber man too,
for he knows Welsh, and has been everywhere - but fox - old fox -
lives at Plas y Cadno." (18)
Having been informed that there was a considerable iron foundry
close by, I thought it would be worth my while to go and see it. I
entered the premises, and was standing and looking round, when a
man with the appearance of a respectable mechanic came up and
offered to show me over the place. I gladly accepted his offer,
and he showed me all about the iron foundry. I saw a large steam-
engine at full play, terrible furnaces, and immense heaps of
burning, crackling cinders, and a fiery stream of molten metal
rolling along. After seeing what there was to be seen, I offered a
piece of silver to my kind conductor, which he at once refused. On
my asking him, however, to go to the inn and have a friendly glass,
he smiled, and said he had no objection. So we went to the inn,
and had two friendly glasses of whiskey-and-water together, and
also some discourse. I asked him if there were any English
employed on the premises. "None," said he, "nor Irish either; we
are all Welsh." Though he was a Welshman, his name was a very
common English one.
After paying the reckoning, which only amounted to three and
sixpence, I departed for Swansea, distant about thirteen miles.
Gutter Vawr consists of one street, extending for some little way
along the Swansea road, the foundry, and a number of huts and
houses scattered here and there. The population is composed almost
entirely of miners, the workers at the foundry, and their families.
For the first two or three miles the country through which I passed
did not at all prepossess me in favour of Glamorganshire: it
consisted of low, sullen, peaty hills. Subsequently, however, it
improved rapidly, becoming bold, wild, and pleasantly wooded. The
aspect of the day improved, also, with the appearance of the
country. When I first started the morning was wretched and
drizzly, but in less than an hour it cleared up wonderfully, and
the sun began to flash out. As I looked on the bright luminary I
thought of Ab Gwilym's ode to the sun and Glamorgan, and with
breast heaving and with eyes full of tears, I began to repeat parts
of it, or rather of a translation made in my happy boyish years:-
"Each morn, benign of countenance,
Upon Glamorgan's pennon glance!
Each afternoon in beauty clear
Above my own dear bounds appear!
Bright outline of a blessed clime,
Again, though sunk, arise sublime -
Upon my errand, swift repair,
And unto green Glamorgan bear
Good days and terms of courtesy
From my dear country and from me!
Move round - but need I thee command?
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