And from which, after seeing some of the mountain
districts, they would return to Llangollen by the way they came,
where I proposed to join them, returning, however, by a different
way from the one I went, that I might traverse new districts.
About eleven o'clock of a brilliant Sunday morning I left
Llangollen, after reading the morning-service of the Church to my
family. I set out on a Sunday because I was anxious to observe the
general demeanour of the people, in the interior of the country, on
the Sabbath.
I directed my course towards the west, to the head of the valley.
My wife and daughter after walking with me about a mile bade me
farewell, and returned. Quickening my pace I soon left Llangollen
valley behind me and entered another vale, along which the road
which I was following, and which led to Corwen and other places,
might be seen extending for miles. Lumpy hills were close upon my
left, the Dee running noisily between steep banks, fringed with
trees, was on my right; beyond it rose hills which form part of the
wall of the Vale of Clwyd; their tops bare, but their sides
pleasantly coloured with yellow corn-fields and woods of dark
verdure. About an hour's walking, from the time when I entered the
valley, brought me to a bridge over a gorge, down which water ran
to the Dee. I stopped and looked over the side of the bridge
nearest to the hill. A huge rock about forty feet long by twenty
broad, occupied the entire bed of the gorge, just above the bridge,
with the exception of a little gullet to the right, down which
between the rock and a high bank, on which stood a cottage, a run
of water purled and brawled. The rock looked exactly like a huge
whale lying on its side, with its back turned towards the runnel.
Above it was a glen of trees. After I had been gazing a little
time a man making his appearance at the door of the cottage just
beyond the bridge I passed on, and drawing nigh to him, after a
slight salutation, asked him in English the name of the bridge.
"The name of the bridge, sir," said the man, in very good English,
"is Pont y Pandy."
"Does not that mean the bridge of the fulling mill?"
"I believe it does, sir," said the man.
"Is there a fulling mill near?"
"No, sir, there was one some time ago, but it is now a sawing
mill."
Here a woman, coming out, looked at me steadfastly.
"Is that gentlewoman your wife?"
"She is no gentlewoman, sir, but she is my wife."
"Of what religion are you?"
"We are Calvinistic-Methodists, sir."
"Have you been to chapel?"
"We are just returned, sir."
Here the woman said something to her husband, which I did not hear,
but the purport of which I guessed from the following question
which he immediately put.
"Have you been to chapel, sir?"
"I do not go to chapel; I belong to the Church."
"Have you been to church, sir?"
"I have not - I said my prayers at home, and then walked out."
"It is not right to walk out on the Sabbath-day, except to go to
church or chapel."
"Who told you so?"
"The law of God, which says you shall keep holy the Sabbath-day."
"I am not keeping it unholy."
"You are walking about, and in Wales when we see a person walking
idly about, on the Sabbath-day, we are in the habit of saying,
Sabbath-breaker, where are you going?"
"The Son of Man walked through the fields on the Sabbath-day, why
should I not walk along the roads?"
"He who called Himself the Son of Man was God and could do what He
pleased, but you are not God."
"But He came in the shape of a man to set an example. Had there
been anything wrong in walking about on the Sabbath-day, He would
not have done it."
Here the wife exclaimed, "How worldly-wise these English are!"
"You do not like the English," said I.
"We do not dislike them," said the woman; "at present they do us no
harm, whatever they did of old."
"But you still consider them," said I, "the seed of Y Sarfes
cadwynog, the coiling serpent."
"I should be loth to call any people the seed of the serpent," said
the woman.
"But one of your great bards did," said I.
"He must have belonged to the Church, and not to the chapel then,"
said the woman. "No person who went to chapel would have used such
bad words."
"He lived," said I, "before people were separated into those of the
Church and the chapel; did you ever hear of Taliesin Ben Beirdd?"
"I never did," said the woman.
"But I have," said the man; "and of Owain Glendower too."
"Do people talk much of Owen Glendower in these parts?" said I.
"Plenty," said the man, "and no wonder, for when he was alive he
was much about here - some way farther on there is a mount, on the
bank of the Dee, called the mount of Owen Glendower, where it is
said he used to stand and look out after his enemies."
"Is it easy to find?" said I.
"Very easy," said the man, "it stands right upon the Dee and is
covered with trees; there is no mistaking it."
I bade the man and his wife farewell, and proceeded on my way.
After walking about a mile, I perceived a kind of elevation which
answered to the description of Glendower's mount, which the man by
the bridge had given me.
