As I Knew Him To Be Of A Rather
Sullen Unsocial Disposition, I Said Nothing To Him, But Proceeded
On My Way.
As I advanced the valley widened, the hills on the west
receding to some distance from the river.
Came to Tregeiriog a
small village, which takes its name from the brook; Tregeiriog
signifying the hamlet or village on the Ceiriog. Seeing a bridge
which crossed the rivulet at a slight distance from the road, a
little beyond the village, I turned aside to look at it. The
proper course of the Ceiriog is from south to north; where it is
crossed by the bridge, however, it runs from west to east,
returning to its usual course, a little way below the bridge. The
bridge was small and presented nothing remarkable in itself: I
obtained, however, as I looked over its parapet towards the west a
view of a scene, not of wild grandeur, but of something which I
like better, which richly compensated me for the slight trouble I
had taken in stepping aside to visit the little bridge. About a
hundred yards distant was a small water-mill, built over the
rivulet, the wheel going slowly, slowly round; large quantities of
pigs, the generality of them brindled, were either browsing on the
banks or lying close to the sides half immersed in the water; one
immense white hog, the monarch seemingly of the herd, was standing
in the middle of the current. Such was the scene which I saw from
the bridge, a scene of quiet rural life well suited to the brushes
of two or three of the old Dutch painters, or to those of men
scarcely inferior to them in their own style, Gainsborough,
Moreland, and Crome. My mind for the last half-hour had been in a
highly excited state; I had been repeating verses of old Huw
Morris, brought to my recollection by the sight of his dwelling-
place; they were ranting roaring verses, against the Roundheads. I
admired the vigour but disliked the principles which they
displayed; and admiration on the one hand and disapproval on the
other, bred a commotion in my mind like that raised on the sea when
tide runs one way and wind blows another. The quiet scene from the
bridge, however, produced a sedative effect on my mind, and when I
resumed my journey I had forgotten Huw, his verses, and all about
Roundheads and Cavaliers.
I reached Llanarmon, another small village, situated in a valley
through which the Ceiriog or a river very similar to it flows. It
is half-way between Llangollen and Llan Rhyadr, being ten miles
from each. I went to a small inn or public-house, sat down and
called for ale. A waggoner was seated at a large table with a
newspaper before him on which he was intently staring.
"What news?" said I in English.
"I wish I could tell you," said he in very broken English, "but I
cannot read."
"Then why are you looking at the paper?" said I.
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