The
Woman Held Up Her Hands, And A Carter Who Was In The Kitchen
Somewhat The Worse For Liquor, Shouted Applause.
After asking a
few questions as to the road we were to take, we left the house,
and in a little time entered the valley of Ceiriog.
The valley is
very narrow, huge hills overhanging it on both sides, those on the
east side lumpy and bare, those on the west precipitous, and
partially clad with wood; the torrent Ceiriog runs down it,
clinging to the east side; the road is tolerably good, and is to
the west of the stream. Shortly after we had entered the gorge, we
passed by a small farm-house on our right hand, with a hawthorn
hedge before it, upon which seems to stand a peacock, curiously cut
out of thorn. Passing on we came to a place called Pandy uchaf, or
the higher Fulling mill. The place so called is a collection of
ruinous houses, which put me in mind of the Fulling mills mentioned
in "Don Quixote." It is called the Pandy because there was
formerly a fulling mill here, said to have been the first
established in Wales; which is still to be seen, but which is no
longer worked. Just above the old mill there is a meeting of
streams, the Tarw from the west rolls down a dark valley into the
Ceiriog.
At the entrance of this valley and just before you reach the Pandy,
which it nearly overhangs, is an enormous crag. After I had looked
at the place for some time with considerable interest we proceeded
towards the south, and in about twenty minutes reached a neat kind
of house, on our right hand, which John Jones told me stood on the
ground of Huw Morris. Telling me to wait, he went to the house,
and asked some questions. After a little time I followed him and
found him discoursing at the door with a stout dame about fifty-
five years of age, and a stout buxom damsel of about seventeen,
very short of stature.
"This is the gentleman" said he, "who wishes to see anything there
may be here connected with Huw Morris."
The old dame made me a curtsey, and said in very distinct Welsh,
"We have some things in the house which belonged to him, and we
will show them to the gentleman willingly."
"We first of all wish to see his chair," said John Jones.
"The chair is in a wall in what is called the hen ffordd (old
road)," said the old gentlewoman; "it is cut out of the stone wall,
you will have maybe some difficulty in getting to it, but the girl
shall show it to you." The girl now motioned to us to follow her,
and conducted us across the road to some stone steps, over a wall
to a place which looked like a plantation.
"This was the old road," said Jones; "but the place has been
enclosed. The new road is above us on our right hand beyond the
wall."
We were in a maze of tangled shrubs, the boughs of which, very wet
from the rain which was still falling, struck our faces, as we
attempted to make our way between them; the girl led the way, bare-
headed and bare-armed, and soon brought us to the wall, the
boundary of the new road. Along this she went with considerable
difficulty, owing to the tangled shrubs, and the nature of the
ground, which was very precipitous, shelving down to the other side
of the enclosure. In a little time we were wet to the skin, and
covered with the dirt of birds, which they had left while roosting
in the trees; on went the girl, sometimes creeping, and trying to
keep herself from falling by holding against the young trees; once
or twice she fell and we after her, for there was no path, and the
ground, as I have said before very shelvy; still as she went her
eyes were directed towards the wall, which was not always very easy
to be seen, for thorns, tall nettles and shrubs, were growing up
against it. Here and there she stopped, and said something, which
I could not always make out, for her Welsh was anything but clear;
at length I heard her say that she was afraid we had passed the
chair, and indeed presently we came to a place where the enclosure
terminated in a sharp corner.
"Let us go back," said I; "we must have passed it."
I now went first, breaking down with my weight the shrubs nearest
to the wall.
"Is not this the place?" said I, pointing to a kind of hollow in
the wall, which looked something like the shape of a chair.
"Hardly," said the girl, "for there should be a slab on the back,
with letters, but there's neither slab nor letters here."
The girl now again went forward, and we retraced our way, doing the
best we could to discover the chair, but all to no purpose; no
chair was to be found. We had now been, as I imagined, half-an-
hour in the enclosure, and had nearly got back to the place from
which we had set out, when we suddenly heard the voice of the old
lady exclaiming, "What are ye doing there, the chair is on the
other side of the field; wait a bit, and I will come and show it
you;" getting over the stone stile, which led into the wilderness,
she came to us, and we now went along the wall at the lower end; we
had quite as much difficulty here as on the other side, and in some
places more, for the nettles were higher, the shrubs more tangled,
and the thorns more terrible. The ground, however, was rather more
level. I pitied the poor girl who led the way, and whose fat naked
arms were both stung and torn.
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