wild wales-第29章
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thirty was celebrated； throughout Wales； as the best poet of his
time。 When the war broke out between Charles and his parliament；
Huw espoused the part of the king； not as soldier； for he appears
to have liked fighting little better than tanning or husbandry； but
as a poet； and probably did the king more service in that capacity
than he would if he had raised him a troop of horse； or a regiment
of foot； for he wrote songs breathing loyalty to Charles； and
fraught with pungent satire against his foes； which ran like wild…
fire through Wales； and had a great influence on the minds of the
people。 Even when the royal cause was lost in the field； he still
carried on a poetical war against the successful party； but not so
openly as before； dealing chiefly in allegories； which； however；
were easy to be understood。 Strange to say the Independents； when
they had the upper hand； never interfered with him though they
persecuted certain Royalist poets of far inferior note。 On the
accession of Charles the Second he celebrated the event by a most
singular piece called the Lamentation of Oliver's men； in which he
assails the Roundheads with the most bitter irony。 He was loyal to
James the Second； till that monarch attempted to overthrow the
Church of England； when Huw； much to his credit； turned against
him； and wrote songs in the interest of the glorious Prince of
Orange。 He died in the reign of good Queen Anne。 In his youth his
conduct was rather dissolute； but irreproachable and almost holy in
his latter days … a kind of halo surrounded his old brow。 It was
the custom in those days in North Wales for the congregation to
leave the church in a row with the clergyman at their head； but so
great was the estimation in which old Huw was universally held； for
the purity of his life and his poetical gift； that the clergyman of
the parish abandoning his claim to precedence； always insisted on
the good and inspired old man's leading the file； himself following
immediately in his rear。 Huw wrote on various subjects； mostly in
common and easily understood measures。 He was great in satire；
great in humour； but when he pleased could be greater in pathos
than in either； for his best piece is an elegy on Barbara
Middleton； the sweetest song of the kind ever written。 From his
being born on the banks of the brook Ceiriog； and from the flowing
melody of his awen or muse； his countrymen were in the habit of
calling him Eos Ceiriog； or the Ceiriog Nightingale。
So John Jones and myself set off across the Berwyn to visit the
birthplace of the great poet Huw Morris。 We ascended the mountain
by Allt Paddy。 The morning was lowering and before we had half got
to the top it began to rain。 John Jones was in his usual good
spirits。 Suddenly taking me by the arm he told me to look to the
right across the gorge to a white house； which he pointed out。
〃What is there in that house？〃 said I。
〃An aunt of mine lives there；〃 said he。
Having frequently heard him call old women his aunts； I said；
〃Every poor old woman in the neighbourhood seems to be your aunt。〃
〃This is no poor old woman；〃 said he； 〃she is cyfoethawg iawn； and
only last week she sent me and my family a pound of bacon； which
would have cost me sixpence…halfpenny； and about a month ago a
measure of wheat。〃
We passed over the top of the mountain； and descending the other
side reached Llansanfraid； and stopped at the public…house where we
had been before； and called for two glasses of ale。 Whilst
drinking our ale Jones asked some questions about Huw Morris of the
woman who served us； she said that he was a famous poet； and that
people of his blood were yet living upon the lands which had
belonged to him at Pont y Meibion。 Jones told her that his
companion； the gwr boneddig； meaning myself； had come in order to
see the birth…place of Huw Morris； and that I was well acquainted
with his works； having gotten them by heart in Lloegr； when a boy。
The woman said that nothing would give her greater pleasure than to
hear a Sais recite poetry of Huw Morris； whereupon I recited a
number of his lines addressed to the Gof Du； or blacksmith。 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； a
