Crossing A Bridge Over The Bran Just Before It Enters The Greater
Stream, I Proceeded Along A Road Running Nearly South And Having A
Range Of Fine Hills On The East.
Presently violent gusts of wind
came on, which tore the sear leaves by thousands from the trees, of
which there were plenty by the roadsides.
After a little time,
however, this elemental hurly-burly passed away, a rainbow made its
appearance, and the day became comparatively fine. Turning to the
south-east under a hill covered with oaks, I left the vale of the
Towey behind me, and soon caught a glimpse of some very lofty hills
which I supposed to be the Black Mountains. It was a mere glimpse,
for scarcely had I descried them when mist settled down and totally
obscured them from my view.
In about an hour I reached Llangadog, a large village. The name
signifies the church of Gadog. Gadog was a British saint of the
fifth century, who after labouring amongst his own countrymen for
their spiritual good for many years, crossed the sea to Brittany,
where he died. Scarcely had I entered Llangadog when a great
shower of rain came down. Seeing an ancient-looking hostelry I at
once made for it. In a large and comfortable kitchen I found a
middle-aged woman seated by a huge deal table near a blazing fire,
with a couple of large books open before her. Sitting down on a
chair I told her in English to bring me a pint of ale. She did so,
and again sat down to her books, which on inquiry I found to be a
Welsh Bible and Concordance. We soon got into discourse about
religion, but did not exactly agree, for she was a bitter
Methodist, as bitter as her beer, only half of which I could get
down.
Leaving Llangadog I pushed forward. The day was now tolerably
fine. In two or three hours I came to a glen, the sides of which
were beautifully wooded. On my left was a river, which came
roaring down from a range of lofty mountains right before me to the
south-east. The river, as I was told by a lad, was the Sawdde or
Southey, the lofty range the Black Mountains. Passed a pretty
village on my right standing something in the shape of a
semicircle, and in about half-an-hour came to a bridge over a river
which I supposed to be the Sawdde which I had already seen, but
which I subsequently learned was an altogether different stream.
It was running from the south, a wild, fierce flood, amidst rocks
and stones, the waves all roaring and foaming.
After some time I reached another bridge near the foot of a very
lofty ascent. On my left to the east upon a bank was a small
house, on one side of which was a wheel turned round by a flush of
water running in a little artificial canal; close by it were two
small cascades, the waters of which, and also those of the canal,
passed under the bridge in the direction of the west.
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