wild wales-第129章
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great friend of agriculture； who held it for many years； and
considerably improved it。 After his decease it was purchased by
the head of an ancient Lancashire family； who used the modern house
as a summer residence； as the Welsh chieftains had used the wooden
boothie of old。
I went to a kind of lodge； where I had been told that I should find
somebody who would admit me to the church； which stood within the
grounds and contained a monument which I was very desirous of
seeing； partly from its being considered one of the masterpieces of
the great Chantrey； and partly because it was a memorial to the
lovely child； the last scion of the old family who had possessed
the domain。 A good…looking young woman； the only person whom I
saw； on my telling my errand； forthwith took a key and conducted me
to the church。 The church was a neat edifice with rather a modern
look。 It exhibited nothing remarkable without； and only one thing
remarkable within； namely； the monument； which was indeed worthy of
notice； and which； had Chantrey executed nothing else； might well
have entitled him to be considered； what the world has long
pronounced him； the prince of British sculptors。
This monument； which is of the purest marble； is placed on the
eastern side of the church； below a window of stained glass； and
represents a truly affecting scene： a lady and gentleman are
standing over a dying girl of angelic beauty； who is extended on a
couch； and from whose hand a volume； the Book of Life； is falling。
The lady is weeping。
Beneath is the following inscription …
To the Memory of
MARY
The only child of THOMAS and JANE JOHNES
Who died in 1811
After a few days' sickness
This monument is dedicated
By her parents。
An inscription worthy； by its simplicity and pathos； to stand below
such a monument。
After presenting a trifle to the woman； who； to my great surprise；
could not speak a word of English； I left the church； and descended
the side of the hill； near the top of which it stands。 The scenery
was exceedingly beautiful。 Below me was a bright green valley； at
the bottom of which the Ystwyth ran brawling； now hid amongst
groves； now showing a long stretch of water。 Beyond the river to
the east was a noble mountain； richly wooded。 The Ystwyth； after a
circuitous course； joins the Rheidol near the strand of the Irish
Channel； which the united rivers enter at a place called Aber
Ystwyth； where stands a lovely town of the same name； which sprang
up under the protection of a baronial castle； still proud and
commanding even in its ruins； built by Strongbow； the conqueror of
the great western isle。 Near the lower part of the valley the road
tended to the south； up and down through woods and bowers； the
scenery still ever increasing in beauty。 At length； after passing
through a gate and turning round a sharp corner； I suddenly beheld
Hafod on my right hand； to the west at a little distance above me；
on a rising ground； with a noble range of mountains behind it。
A truly fairy place it looked； beautiful but fantastic； in the
building of which three styles of architecture seemed to have been
employed。 At the southern end was a Gothic tower； at the northern
an Indian pagoda； the middle part had much the appearance of a
Grecian villa。 The walls were of resplendent whiteness； and the
windows； which were numerous； shone with beautiful gilding。 Such
was modern Hafod； a strange contrast； no doubt； to the hunting
lodge of old。
After gazing at this house of eccentric taste for about a quarter
of an hour； sometimes with admiration； sometimes with a strong
disposition to laugh； I followed the road； which led past the house
in nearly a southerly direction。 Presently the valley became more
narrow； and continued narrowing till there was little more room
than was required for the road and the river； which ran deep below
it on the left…hand side。 Presently I came to a gate； the boundary
in the direction in which I was going of the Hafod domain。
Here； when about to leave Hafod； I shall devote a few lines to a
remarkable man whose name should be ever associated with the place。
Edward Lhuyd was born in the vicinity of Hafod about the period of
the Restoration。 His father was a clergyman； who after giving him
an excellent education at home sent him to Oxford； at which seat of
learning he obtained an honourable degree； officiated for several
years as tutor； and was eventually made custodiary of the Ashmolean
Museum。 From his early youth he devoted himself with indefatigable
zeal to the acquisition of learning。 He was fond of natural
history and British antiquities； but his favourite pursuit； and
that in which he principally distinguished himself； was the study
of the Celtic dialects； and it is but doing justice to his memory
to say； that he was not only the best Celtic scholar of his time；
but that no one has arisen since worthy to be considered his equal
in Celtic erudition。 Partly at the expense of the university；
partly at that of various powerful individuals who patronized him；
he travelled through Ireland； the Western Highlands； Wales；
Cornwall and Armorica； for the purpose of collecting Celtic
manuscripts。 He was particularly successful in Ireland and Wales。
Several of the most precious Irish manuscripts in Oxford； and also
in the Chandos Library； were of Lhuyd's collection； and to him the
old hall at Hafod was chiefly indebted for its treasures of ancient
British literature。 Shortly after returning to Oxford from his
Celtic wanderings he sat down to the composition of a grand work in
three parts； under the title of Archaeologia Britannica； which he
had long projected。 The first was to be devoted to the Celtic
dialects； the second to British Antiquities； and the third to the
natural history of the British Isles。 He only lived to complete
the first part。 It contains various Celtic grammars and
vocabularies； to each of which there is a preface written by Lhuyd
in the particular dialect to which the vocabulary or grammar is
devoted。 Of all these prefaces the one to the Irish is the most
curious and remarkable。 The first part of the Archaeologia was
published at Oxford in 1707； two years before the death of the
author。 Of his correspondence； which was very extensive； several
letters have been published； all of them relating to philology；
antiquities； and natural history。
CHAPTER XC
An Adventure … Spytty Ystwyth … Wormwood。
SHORTLY after leaving the grounds of Hafod I came to a bridge over
the Ystwyth。 I crossed it； and was advancing along the road which
led apparently to the south…east； when I came to a company of
people who seemed to be loitering about。 It consisted entirely of
young men and women； the former with crimson favours； the latter in
the garb of old Wales； blue tunics and sharp crowned hats。 Going
up to one of the young women； I said； 〃Petti yw？ what's the
matter！〃
〃Priodas （a marriage）；〃 she replied； after looking at me
attentively。 I then asked her the name of the bridge； whereupon
she gave a broad grin； and after some； little time replied： 〃Pont
y Groes （the bridge of the cross）。〃 I was about to ask her some
other question when she turned away with a loud chuckle； and said
something to another wench near her； who； grinning yet more
uncouthly； said something to a third； who grinned too； and lifting
up her hands and spreading her fingers wide； said： 〃Dyn oddi dir y
Gogledd … a man from the north country； hee； hee！〃 Forthwith there
was a general shout； the wenches crying： 〃A man from the north
country； hee； hee！〃 and the fellows crying： 〃A man from the north
country； hoo； hoo！〃
〃Is this the way you treat strangers in the south？〃 said I。 But I
had scarcely uttered the words when with redoubled shouts the
company exclaimed： 〃There's Cumraeg！ there's pretty Cumraeg。 Go
back； David； to shire Fon！ That Cumraeg won't pass here。〃
Finding they disliked my Welsh I had recourse to my own language。
〃Really；〃 said I in English； 〃such conduct is unaccountable。 What
do
