I.E. "To the memory of JANE OWEN Wife of Edward Owen, of the monastery of St Mary of farther Mathafarn, who died February 28, 1842, aged fifty-one."Whether the Edward Owen mentioned here was any relation to the great Gronwy, I had no opportunity of learning. I asked the miller what was meant by the monastery, and he told that it was the name of a building to the north-east near the sea, which had once been a monastery but had been converted into a farm-house, though it still retained its original name. "May all monasteries be converted into farm-houses," said I, "and may they still retain their original names in mockery of popery!"Having seen all I could well see of the church and its precincts Ideparted with my kind guide. After we had retraced our steps some way, we came to some stepping-stones on the side of a wall, and the miller pointing to them said:
"The nearest way to the house of Gronwy will be over the llamfa."I was now become ashamed of keeping the worthy fellow from his business, and begged him to return to his mill. He refused to leave me, at first, but on my pressing him to do so, and on my telling him that I could find the way to the house of Gronwy very well by myself, he consented. We shook hands, the miller wished me luck, and betook himself to his mill, whilst I crossed the llamfa.
I soon, however, repented having left the path by which I had come.
I was presently in a maze of little fields with stone walls over which I had to clamber. At last I got into a lane with a stone wall on each side. A man came towards me and was about to pass me - his look was averted, and he was evidently one of those who have "no English." A Welshman of his description always averting his look when he sees a stranger who he thinks has "no Welsh," lest the stranger should ask him a question and he be obliged to confess that he has "no English.""Is this the way to Llanfair?" said I to the man. The man made a kind of rush in order to get past me.
"Have you any Welsh?" I shouted as loud as I could bawl.
The man stopped, and turning a dark sullen countenance half upon me said, "Yes, I have Welsh.""Which is the way to Llanfair?" said I.
"Llanfair, Llanfair?" said the man, "what do you mean?""I want to get there," said I.
"Are you not there already?" said the fellow stamping on the ground, "are you not in Llanfair?
"Yes, but I want to get to the town."
"Town, town! Oh, I have no English," said the man; and off he started like a frighted bullock. The poor fellow was probably at first terrified at seeing an Englishman, then confused at hearing an Englishman speak Welsh, a language which the Welsh in general imagine no Englishman can speak, the tongue of an Englishman as they say not being long enough to pronounce Welsh; and lastly utterly deprived of what reasoning faculties he had still remaining by my asking him for the town of Llanfair, there being properly no town.
I went on, and at last getting out of the lane, found myself upon the road, along which I had come about two hours before; the house of the miller was at some distance on my right. Near me were two or three houses and part of the skeleton of one, on which some men, in the dress of masons, seemed to be occupied. Going up to these men I said in Welsh to one, whom I judged to be the principal, and who was rather a tall fine-looking fellow:
"Have you heard a sound of Gronwy Owain?"Here occurred another instance of the strange things people do when their ideas are confused. The man stood for a moment or two, as if transfixed, a trowel motionless in one of his hands, and a brick in the other; at last giving a kind of gasp, he answered in very tolerable Spanish:
"Si, senor! he oido."
"Is his house far from here?" said I in Welsh.
"No, senor!" said the man, "no esta muy lejos.""I am a stranger here, friend, can anybody show me the way?""Si senor! este mozo luego - acompanara usted."Then turning to a lad of about eighteen, also dressed as a mason, he said in Welsh:
"Show this gentleman instantly the way to Tafarn Goch."The lad flinging a hod down, which he had on his shoulder, instantly set off, making me a motion with his head to follow him.
I did so, wondering what the man could mean by speaking to me in Spanish. The lad walked by my side in silence for about two furlongs till we came to a range of trees, seemingly sycamores, behind which was a little garden, in which stood a long low house with three chimneys. The lad stopping flung open a gate which led into the garden, then crying to a child which he saw within: "Gad roi tro" - let the man take a turn; he was about to leave me, when I stopped him to put sixpence into his hand. He received the money with a gruff "Diolch!" and instantly set off at a quick pace.
Passing the child who stared at me, I walked to the back part of the house, which seemed to be a long mud cottage. After examining the back part I went in front, where I saw an aged woman with several children, one of whom was the child I had first seen. She smiled and asked me what I wanted.
I said that I had come to see the house of Gronwy. She did not understand me, for shaking her head she said that she had no English, and was rather deaf. Raising my voice to a very high tone I said:
"Ty Gronwy!"
A gleam of intelligence flashed now in her eyes.
"Ty Gronwy," she said, "ah! I understand. Come in sir."There were three doors to the house; she led me in by the midmost into a common cottage room, with no other ceiling, seemingly, than the roof. She bade me sit down by the window by a little table, and asked me whether I would have a cup of milk and some bread-and-butter; I declined both, but said I should be thankful for a little water.
