Hawking a roll of flannel through a fair was too tame a pastime for our hero, when unaccompanied with more animated trickery, and he began to think of giving it up, that he might more leisurely pursue his princ.i.p.al vocation of searching out the lady of Ystrad Fin, when the genius of whim provided more mirth for him, and arrested his attention.

A poor half-starved looking fellow, with a merry eye, that poverty had sunk, but could not quench, now made up to him, and strove to bargain for a few yards of his flannel; but on reckoning his money, found he could not come up to his price, as he said he had to buy a three-legged iron pot, in addition to a winter petticoat for his wife: "and," observed the man of tatters, with a grin of miserable mirth, "it will be better for her to go without flannel than our whole family to want a porridge pot."

Twm liked this man, but not his logic; conceiving he made too light an affair of what was perhaps heavy about his dame, who might be no sylph in figure; which implied a want of courtesy and due deference to that fair train, whose indisputable right to warm petticoats claimed precedence of all pots, pans, and every earthly consideration. "Here, take this bale, take it all, for I have lost my yard and scissors, and pay me when you grow rich;-confound your thanks! away with you, bestow it safe, then return here; perhaps I may get thee an iron pot at as cheap a rate as the flannel."

This ragged man, by his alacrity and silent obedience, seemed to understand the spirit he had to deal with. Off he ran with his enormous present, and immediately returned; when our hero accompanied him to the shop of an old curmudgeon of an ironmonger, whose face, hardly distinguishable behind his habitual screen of snuff and spectacles, seemed of the same material as his own hard ware. The man of rags was quite in luck, and, as instructed, followed his benefactor into the shop in silence. Twm examined the culinary ware, with all the caution of an old farm wife, asking the prices of various articles, and turned up the whites of his eyes in the most approved puritanic fashion, expressive of astonishment at such excessive charges. Old Hammerhead indignantly repelled the insinuation, and swore that cheaper or better pots were never seen in the kitchen of a king. "Then you must mean the king of the beggars," quoth Twm, "for you have nothing here but damaged ware."

"Damaged devil! what do you mean?" roared the enraged ironmonger. "I mean," replied Twm Shon Catti, with provoking equanimity, "that there is scarcely a pot here without a hole in it; now this which I hold in my hand, for instance, has one." "Where! where!" asks the fiery old shopkeeper, holding it up between his eyes and the light; "if there is a hole in this pot I'll eat it: where is the hole that you speak of?"

"Here!" bawls the inexorable hoaxer, pulling it over his ears, and holding it there, while the necessitous man, who did not seem much unlike a thief, took the wink from his patron, and was walking off with a choice article, which he had selected from the whole lot, when Twm whispered in his ear, "Take better care of it than you did of the two sheep and white ox." "Thou art either the devil or Twm Shon Catti," replied the other, in an under tone. "Mum! and be off," said Twm, and off went shrewd Roger, for he it was, who now deemed himself more than paid for his coat lost at Cardigan some years ago, by a freak of Twm's.

Loudly roared the hardwareman, but his voice was drowned in the fatal cavity. Having tied his hands behind his back, Twm left him howling and sweating beneath the huge extinguisher, and made, as he took his departure, this consolatory and effective exit speech-"Had there not been a hole in it, how could that large stupid n.o.b of yours have entered such a helmet?"

As he reached the street, and mixed with the crowd, he noticed a general and very rapid movement towards the town-hall. As the a.s.semblage increased, its course, like a choked mill-dam, became more and more impeded, until the whole restless ma.s.s became consolidated, and stood still perforce. Our hero had forced his way till near the entrance of the hall, when he ventured to ask what cause had drawn together such a crowd; but he got no immediate answer, as many came there, like himself, drawn by the powerful influence of curiosity. At length he heard his own name buzzed about, by many voices; one said that Twm Shon Catti, whose humorous tricks were the themes of every tongue, was discovered to be a great thief: and that he who had fought against highwaymen, was at last become one himself, and committed all the robberies which had taken place in that country for years past. One said that he could never be taken; and a third contradicted that a.s.sertion, declaring that he was then fettered in the hall, and waiting to be conveyed to Carmarthen gaol. One a.s.signed him the gallows as his due, while another tenderly replied that hanging was too good for him. Opposing the sentiments and opinions of all these, more than one declared that the hemp was neither spun nor grown, that would hang Twm; and pity it should, as he was the friend of the poor, and an enemy to none but the stupid, the cruel, and the oppressive.

The town crier now came out of the court, and, obtaining silence, he informed the a.s.sembled mult.i.tude that the magistrates who were now sitting, required that any "_person or persons_" who might have been defrauded in the fair, should now come forward, so as to form a clue towards the ident.i.ty of the robber, which it was generally believed was no other than the notorious Twm Shon Catti. The crier retired, and in a few minutes made his appearance again, and read the court's proclamation, offering a reward of twenty pounds to any person who would apprehend the said Twm Shon Catti; which was answered with loud hisses by the majority of the crowd, that effectually drowned the applause of the rest.

Pleased with this evidence of his popularity, the pride of desperate daring seemed to have blinded his better judgment, as he immediately formed the singular and hazardous resolution of entering the hall, to learn the cause of the present discussion, for he was utterly ignorant of the precise act of his that now engaged the polite attention of their worships.

That any person in the perilous predicament of our hero should venture on such an expedient, will doubtless astonish the common-place man of weak nerves and prudent views; but when enthusiasm, and the pride of achievement, even in a worthless cause, actuates the pa.s.sion-fraught breast, supplanting the place of reasoning calculation, the wonder vanishes. The desperate outlaw, whose temerity is applauded, feels the gust of heroism in as warm a degree as the generous patriot whose claim to renown is better founded, and graced with national approbation. Twm soon found himself in the hall; for his own native energies stood him in better stead than the fabled cap of Fortunatus: he wished, and obtained; hated, and was revenged; desired to tread a difficulty under foot, and obtained his purpose, while the generality of men would be a.n.a.lysing every shadow of obstruction that impeded their aim. He took his stand in a conspicuous place near the bench, the "awful judgment seat," which was at this time filled by his laughter-loving friend Prothero, whose ruddy happy round face had deprived law itself of all its terrors. Before him, among others, he found his old _friend_, Evans of Tregaron, who had been sputtering a confused account of our hero's gracelessness, from his childhood, to the last trick which he had played him, by stealing his grey horse at Machynlleth.-How he had cheated a purchaser of the stolen horse at Welshpool; and how the said horse was traced into the possession of a simple fellow in straw boots and cow-hide breeches, who that very day had sold it to his friend Mr. Powell; which sale, he contended, could not stand good, as the stolen horse was his property to all intents and purposes, which he could prove by creditable witnesses. This recapitulation of Twm's tricks tickled the gravity of Prothero amazingly; and at every close which Evans made in his narration, he was answered by the loud "ho, ho, ho!" of the sitting magistrate. Mr. Powell then told his story, and, in conclusion, said he was in the commission of the peace in the town of Brecon. "Ho, ho, ho!" roared Prothero, "here we are, three magistrates, ho, ho, ho! three magistrates, and all fooled by Twm Shon Catti.-Clever fellow, ho, ho, ho! wild dog, ho, ho, ho! means no great harm-never keeps what he steals-gives all to the poor fellows that want-did me out of two sheep and a white ox, ho, ho, ho!-I wish him joy of them, ho, ho, ho! Never mind, gentlemen, the fun of the thing repays the loss, which can be shared between you. Let Mr. Evans take the horse, on paying Mr. Powell what he gave young cow-breeches, ho, ho, ho! better that than lose all." Mr. Powell immediately acceded to this arrangement, but the unaccommodating Evans insisted on having the horse without any payment, and made some tart remarks on conniving at a rascal's tricks and villanies. "For my part I'd shoot him dead like a dog!" cried the reverend preacher of peace and concord; drawing, at the same time, a pair of pistols from his coat pocket, and replacing them, in a fiery fit of pa.s.sion. "Ho, ho, ho!" roared Prothero, "but you'd catch him first, brother, ho, ho, ho!-too cunning for you, for me, and all of us-might be here this moment, laughing in his sleeve at us, for what we know, ho, ho, ho!"

Our hero, in his primitive attire, now attracted the attention of the justices, by the utterance of a deep groan, while he appeared wrapt in the perusal of a small book. Prothero, alive to every thing allied to comicality, burst out into a loud ho, ho, ho! Evans arrayed his naturally gloomy brows in a magisterial frown, and Powell smiled, with an expression of wonder. "What are you reading, friend?" asked Prothero, chuckling as he surveyed the black Welsh wig. "The wisdom of Solomon,"

quoth the man of solemnity, drawing the muscles of his face most ludicrously long; "but mark you, worshipful gentlemen, I mean not the Solomon of scriptures, but our own Cambrian Solomon-that is to say, Catwg the Wise, the excellent and erudite abbot of Llancarvan, and teacher of the bard Taliesin."

"A fine fellow, no doubt, but can't you read him at home? why do you bring him here?" asked Prothero, good-humoredly. "Wherever I go, I have resolved to make his wisdom known, and to reprove all deviators from it, in the sage's own words," quoth Twm. "Poor man, poor man, he's crazy, his brain turned, perhaps, by too much study," observed Prothero. "An impudent fellow!" cried Evans; "but you are strangely lenient here in Carmarthenshire; were I the king, I would have all such fellows put in Bedlam." Twm looked at the clerical magistrate, then read from the book, "If a crown were worn by every fool, we should all of us be kings."

"Gentlemen, he calls us all fools!" cried Evans. Twm, without raising his eyes from the book, read on, "Were there horns on the head of every fool, a good sum might be gained by shewing a bald man." "Gentlemen, he makes us all cuckolds!" cried Evans, in his usual pa.s.sionate sputter; "however it may fit you, gentlemen, I can safely say, that no such disgrace as a horn belongs to my brow." Twm read on;-"If the shame of every one were written on his forehead, the materials for masks would be surprisingly dear." "Ho, ho, ho!" roared Prothero, till the hall echoed with his loud laughter, which the Cardiganshire magistrate seemed to take as a personal affront, and sulkily observed, that this was no place for foolery, but for gravity, wisdom, and truth. Twm read on, "If no tongue were to speak other than truth and wisdom, the number of mutes would be astonishingly great." The consequential Evans, mumbled something about his own mode of doing business at Cardigan, and declared that he would commit such a fellow to gaol for three months, at least, for disturbing a court of justice. Twm cut him short with another pa.s.sage from Catwg; "Were the talkative to perceive the folly of his chattering, he would save his breath to cool his broth." Here Powell of Brecon entered a little into the spirit of the scene, by quoting also from the well-known aphorisms of Catwg, applying the pa.s.sage to Twm himself;-"If the buffoon were to see the vanity of his feat, he would leave it off for shame."

This feeble hit excited the applause of the good-humoured Prothero, who clapped the speaker heartily on the back, and, amid his eternal ho, ho, ho! exclaimed, "Well said, brother, well said; better silence him with wit than by authority; well done, well done!"

Our hero now very pointedly directed his quotation against the Breconshire magistrate; "If the lover were to see his weakness, terror would drive him to a premature end." A general laugh at the expense of Powell, instantly followed. To him that pa.s.sage was considered peculiarly applicable, as the known unsuccessful woer of the gay widow of Ystrad Fin. It was a tender string to touch so roughly; losing his ease and temper at the same instant, he cast a most ungracious frown at the utterer of proverbs, and said in an under tone of threatening energy, "Whoever you may be, it were not wise of you to repeat such conduct towards me again." "Again?" said Twm, pretending to misunderstand him, "Oh, certainly, I'll give you the pa.s.sage again, or any other, to please you, 'If the lover-'" (here Powell's face blazed with anger, as he clenched his fist, and cried, "You had better not.") Twm began again,-"If the lover-of war, were to see his cruelty, he would fear that every atom in the sunbeam might stab him as a sword." This dexterous evasion, with the point given to the words "of war," had its full effect in restoring the good humour so suddenly disturbed; but that beautiful pa.s.sage from the aphorisms of the old Welsh abbot failed to elicit the applause which its moral merits deserved: nor could we expect to find decriers of war among farmers and country squires.

Here the general attention was called to the entrance of the ex-proprietor of the roll of flannel, who almost deafened them by the vehemence of her complaints, which, however, were too incoherently expressed to be immediately understood. "Oh! my roll of flannel, my fine, excellent flannel! all of my own spinning too,-eight and twenty good yards, and a yard and a half wide-my wooden shoe too that I lost in the crowd-and my poor corns trod off by the villains-my dear sweet flannel, all of my own carding and spinning-n.o.body but the devil himself, or his first cousin Twm Shon Catti, could have taken it in such a manner-it was whisked from me as if a whirlwind had swept it away." At length she paused for want of breath, and Twm approached her with the air of a comforter, and read from his book, "Were a woman as quick with her feet as with her tongue, she would catch the lightning to kindle her fire in the morning." It is probable that she did not perfectly hear this pa.s.sage, as, on perceiving Twm, she gave a shout of joy, and then, as incoherently as before, appealed to the magistrate; "This honest man, your worship, knows it all. I told him, the moment I lost my flannel-this worthy man, your worship,-a good man, a wise man, a man who reads books, your worship, he can witness."

A fresh hubbub at the entrance of the hall, now diverted all the attention from the old woman's complaint, and loud were the shouts of laughter on beholding the object that now presented itself. Supported by two constables, who rather dragged forward, than led him, came Twm's friend the hardwareman, crowned with the identical iron pot before-named, which the officers, as a matter of official formality, or to indulge their own facetiousness, refused to remove, till in the presence of a magistrate. When his laughter had a little subsided, Prothero ordered the pot to be removed, and his hands untied. The hardwareman then told his lamentable tale in a few words; in conclusion, he declared, that having overheard certain words between the robber and his accomplice, he had learned that the thief was no other than Twm Shon Catti. His eye now caught the figure of our hero, and with a yell as astounding as if the eternal enemy of man stood before him, he cried, "There he is! there he is! As heaven shall save me, there stands the man, or devil, who crowned me with the iron pot, while his accomplice ran off with another." "And who robbed me of my flannel!" roared the old woman, who now changed her opinion, as her earliest suspicions became thus suddenly confirmed. "And who stole my grey horse!" bawled Evans of Tregaron. "And who sold it to me, when disguised in straw-boots and cow-hide breeches," cried Powell of Brecon, who had now closely examined his features.

A violent rush upon our hero, by the whole party, now ensued; but Twm eluded their eager attempts to grasp him, sprung upon the table before the bench, and, drawing a couple of pistols from his coat pockets, held one in each hand, and kept them all at bay, protesting that he would shoot the first who would advance an inch towards him. Loud was his laughter, as they all started back: but the great laugher, Prothero, now sat silently on the bench, alarmed for his safety, which he had thought to secure by giving him warning of his danger, in the feint of the proclaimed reward for his apprehension. As he stood in this manner, with extended arms, watchful eyes, and grasping the pointed pistols with a finger to each trigger, Powell of Brecon exclaimed, "Thou art a clever fellow, by Jove, Twm! very clever for a Cardy; but wert thou with us, the quick-witted sons of Brecon, thou wouldest soon find thyself overmatched and outwitted too. I dare thee to enter Brecon, to trust thy wit-come there, and welcome, and thou shalt stand harmless for me, in the affair of the grey horse." Twm smiled, and nodded, in token of having accepted his challenge.

By this time Evans of Tregaron, with some of his followers, got behind him, and clung to his right arm, but with one violent effort Twm shook them away, as the mighty bull throws off the yelping curs that dare attack him. Then, with a single leap, he sprung from the table into the crowded court, where a lane was formed for him, and rushed out at the door unimpeded, and pursued by his accusers. They soon lost sight of him among the moving mult.i.tude, some of whom dispersed from fear of accidents, while others followed him as spectators. To the great astonishment of his pursuers, they next caught a view of him mounted on that grand subject of contention, the grey horse. He took the route to Ystrad Fin, followed by them all, including several constables in the employ of Evans of Tregaron, and many disinterested people from the fair.

Loud were the shouts of the numerous riders; loud the tramp of galloping horses; and wild the disorder and terror created, as Twm at different intervals turned on his pursuers, and fired his pistols. This caused a powerful retrograde movement among them, by which the foremost horses fell back on those behind them, unhorsing some, who lay groaning and crying on the ground, and frightening others altogether from further pursuit. It was on this occasion that a bard of that day wrote the stanza which appears in the t.i.tle page, thus translated by the late Iolo Morganwg:

"In Ystrad Fin a doleful sound Pervades the hollow hills around; The very stones with terror melt, Such fear of Twm Shon Catti's felt."

Twm at length, although closely followed, reached the foot of Dinas, where he dismounted, sprung from stone to stone, that formed the ford of the Towey, and climbed the steep side of that majestic mount, with the utmost agility and ease. Like a prudent sea-captain chaced in his small boat by a fleet of rovers, till he reaches his own war-ship, and springs up her fort-like side, in the extacy of surmounted peril, conscious strength, and superiority, Twm now attained the summit of a prominent gnoll, and waved his hand triumphantly, in defiance of his foes below.

Evans of Tregaron, with his crew of catch poles, made an attempt to climb also; Twm permitted them to advance about twenty yards above the river, when he commenced, and at the same time ended his warfare, by rolling down several huge stones, that swept them in a ma.s.s into the very bed of the Towey, sadly bruised, and some with their bones broken, from whence they were extricated by the amazed and terrified spectators.

The Tregaron magistrate met a woful disaster on this occasion; starting aside, to avoid the dreadful leaping crags that threatened to crush him, his pistols went off in his pockets, and carried away, besides his coat-skirts and no small portion of his black breeches, a large portion of postern flesh, that deprived him forever after of an easy seat, on the agreeable cushion which nature had provided. Amusing to the population of Tregaron was the singular sight of their crest-fallen magistrate and his hated gang, brought home in a woful plight, as inside pa.s.sengers of a dung-cart, which had been hired for the purpose; and more than all, that their discomfiture should have been caused by their long-lost countryman, Twm Shon Catti.

Our hero, in the mean time, like a princely chieftain of the days of old, enthroned upon his native tower of strength, marking in his soul's high pride the awkward predicament of his baffled foes, perceived them all depart; leaving him the undisputed lord of his alpine territory, the glorious height of Dinas. After witnessing, with his limbs stretched upon his mountain couch, the glorious beauty of the setting sun, he entered the cave, tore from its top a sufficiency of fern and heather to form his bed, threw on it his fatigued, over-exerted frame, and soundly slept till morning.

CHAP. XXVII.

Twm's exploits at Brecon. The adventure of the ducks, the crow's nest, and the crockery ware. His successes at the Eisteddvod, the Races, and the Ball. His singular marriage with the lady of Ystrad Fin, and various other matters. Conclusion.

OUR hero awoke by sun-rise, after a refreshing sleep; but his mind was far from being cheered by the bright beams of morning. Unable to account fairly for his second disappointment of seeing his mistress, according to promise, he gave way to despondency, and conjectured the worst-that she was no longer true to her vows, but had yielded to the persuasions of her haughty relatives, and become a renegade both to love and honor. He was now, however, so near her residence, he could at least ascertain how matters stood; and, after many efforts of resolution, he descended the hill for that purpose. On crossing the Towey, he was surprised to find that the "gallant grey" was still left for him; he was busily feeding in an adjoining field, and the saddle and bridle hung dangling from a storm-stricken old thorn. He felt this, directly, as a handsome piece of attention to him, on the part of Powell of Brecon, who, doubtless, had left it there for his convenience. On examining further, he found a note, tied to the bridle, from that generous individual, inviting him to be present at the Eisteddvod, the Races, and the Ball, which were to take place successively in the gay town of Brecon.

At Ystrad Fin he found n.o.body but the servants, who informed him that their lady, Miss Meredith, and the late visitors, were all gone to Brecon, and would not return for some days. This intelligence determined him to go there also; and, recollecting a trunk of clothes of his, which had been left ever since his former sojourning here, he called for it; and having dressed himself, and placed, with other things, in his saddle-bags, an elegant suit which he had brought from London, he mounted his horse, and rode off for Brecon. About a couple of miles beyond Trecastle, he overtook a poor fellow driving an a.s.s, laden with coa.r.s.e crockery ware, who turned out to be no other than "shrewd Roger." He had been enabled to commence this humble merchandize by the success he met with in the sale of the greater portion of the roll of flannel, received from our hero the day before, with the produce of which he purchased the stock of an old Neath hawker, whom illness had detained at Llandovery.

Having long been married to a Cardiganshire la.s.s, they both, pretending to be single, entered Squire Prothero's service at the same time, but the circ.u.mstance being at length discovered, they were both discharged, and had since lived in great poverty; and therefore our hero's bounty was a great lift in life to the lowly pair. After some jests on the feats of the fair day, Twm spurred on, but not before he had purchased the whole of Roger's stock, which, however, that worthy was to take to Brecon, for a purpose to be hereafter described. At Brecon he took lodgings at the Three c.o.c.ks' inn, to which he gave the preference, on account of the sign being the armorial bearings of the celebrated David Gam, the hero of Agincourt.

The town, although continually filling, seemed now as full as on a fair.

While our hero looked out at the window to observe Roger, who arranged his crockery in front of the inn, his attention was suddenly caught by the sound of a harp, which proceeded from the kitchen. To his great surprise, he found the performer to be his old friend, the venerable Ianto Gwyn of Tregaron. The old man was very glad to see him, and after learning the particulars of the fortunes he had met since he left his native town, proceeded to inform him of the Tregaron news. His mother was well, and had received the various small sums which he had sent her at different times, and was in daily hopes of burying her churl of a husband. Wat the mole-catcher was arrested in London by young Gras.p.a.cre, who sent him down to Cardigan, where he was hanged two months before.

Rachel Ketch was dead; having broke her heart for the loss of her money, which had been stolen by Wat. In conclusion, the old man said that he had come to the Eisteddvod rather as a spectator than a candidate for the prize, having accidentally hurt his right hand, which had nearly disabled him altogether from playing. "That circ.u.mstance is now the more provoking," said the old man, "as I am convinced that were my hand well, I should certainly win the n.o.ble silver harp, which is to be the meed of the best player." Twm took his musical friend up stairs, and, after dining together, began coquetting with the harp, which, with the hand of a ready player, he tickled into alternate fits of grief and laughter, as he ran over many of our most popular airs. The old man jumped up from his seat, and embraced him with raptures, protesting that he could not fail to win the harp, if he chose to be a candidate. Our hero, having practiced but little on the harp since he left London, felt considerable diffidence in becoming a compet.i.tor among proficients in music, but resolved, at any rate, to avail himself of the instructions of his friend Ianto Gwyn. Intensely anxious to meet his mistress once more, he sought an early opportunity of a walk through the streets; but instead of the desired one, it was his lot to meet Powell the magistrate, who gave him a jocular and right hearty welcome. They were soon joined by two other high bloods of the town, one a wealthy attorney, named Phillips, and the other a reverend and right portly son of the church, who shone more at the punch-board than in the pulpit. They all adjourned to the parlour of the Three c.o.c.ks, where the best of wine was soon in request, and a gay scene of conviviality and good fellowship ensued.

Each of the Breconians was well acquainted with Twm's celebrity, and found unusual satisfaction in this meeting. Being all high lads of the turf, the practice of betting was familiar to them; and the lawyer offered at once to oppose Twm in a match of angling for five pounds; and the bet should be, that whoever fished the largest weight, no matter of what kind, in half an hour, should be declared the winner. Our hero, although a poor angler, accepted the wager, and Powell, as the umpire, wrote down the terms of it, which was signed by each. Possessing himself of the angler's paraphernalia, he repaired with them to the bridge; and had the upper side of it a.s.signed to him, while Phillips took the lower.

The latter displayed a grand morocco pocket-book, filled in the neatest order with the most choice artificial flies, of every description, and soon had his handsome rod in order; while the former had nothing better than what could be procured at a shop. The lawyer landed fish after fish, with great rapidity, and when half the given time was expired, Twm found himself much in arrears, and the continued good fortune of his antagonist left him, apparently, no chance of ultimate success.

"Confound these good-for-nothing flies, fetch me a beef steak!" cried he at last, and gave money for that purpose to a bye-stander, who immediately brought the article wanted. "There's a Cardy angler, fishing for trout with a beef steak!" cried the Breconians, with an exulting laugh; Twm said nothing in reply, but fastened several hooks in different parts of a strong line, to each of which he attached a small piece of beef, and, watching the movement of a flock of ducks that floated in luxurious ease down the Usk, he threw the whole among them. Loud was the clamour of the aquatic crew, as they hustled each other, in their eagerness to partake of the showered feast, which they soon gobbled, and were drawn up to the top of the bridge by the singular angler above, amid the shouts and laughter of the numerous spectators.

Powell now held up his watch, and declared that the stipulated half hour was just up. Phillips, as the conscious winner, produced a goodly shew of trout, and, as Twm had caught but four small fish, said it would be idle to weigh them. "Not so," replied our wag, "let the written terms of the bet be read, and you will find that my ducks have a right to be weighed against your boasted trout, aye! and shall make them kick the beam." Phillips stared at such an a.s.sertion made in earnest, and Powell read, "Whoever fished the largest weight, no matter of what kind, would be declared the winner," and, as umpire, awarded the five pounds to our hero. Some merriment at the expense of Powell was caused by his declaring himself the unlucky proprietor of the said flock of ducks; but with his usual good-humour, he proposed that the ducks and trout should be cooked at his house for their supper, in which Phillips acquiesed.

They were promenading, soon after this, in the agreeable walks of the Priory Grove, where there was a large rookery, almost every third tree being crowned with the nest of one of these sable and clamorous children of the air. "Let us try," said Hughes, who was also much addicted to betting, addressing our hero, "which can the most completely take one of those nests, you or I." "Done, be the bet what it may," cried the Tregaron wag. It was agreed that this boyish feat was to be for a wager of five pounds, and Phillips to be the umpire. Hughes observed to his opponent, "I propose that we accompany each other up our respective trees, to be satisfied that nothing but fair play is used," to which Twm a.s.sented, and gave him the first chance and choice of his nest. The pair were soon at the top of a lofty oak, and the merry parson took out the eggs, one at a time, placing them in his coat pocket, and afterwards removed the nest, and brought it down with him. Twm then went to a distant tree, and climbed to the top with the utmost caution, before his opponent had reached the lower branches, and, with good management, that proved him an adept in this idle business, placed his hat on the top, and thus secured the old bird. Fastening the hat and nest together, he descended with them both. Hughes was the first to declare his antagonist the winner; but the umpire requiring him to produce the amount of his adventure, his surprise was great, on finding that he had nothing more to shew than the empty nest; our hero having slipped his pen-knife through the bottom of his pocket, and received the eggs in the palm of his hand, in the same order that they were taken from the nest. On this discovery, Hughes declared that Twm Shon Catti would never meet his match, till Satan himself became his opponent.

While sitting with the aforesaid trio, some time after, paying their devotions to the bottle, at the Three c.o.c.ks, our hero contrived to bring Powell, who had hitherto fought shy, into a bet with him. He declared that a stranger as he was, at Brecon, he firmly believed he could command, and be obeyed there, with greater prompt.i.tude than himself, although a justice of the peace and quorum. "I'll lay you twenty pounds to the contrary," cried the magistrate. "Done!" replied Twm, "and we can prove it without quitting this room, by opening the window, and practising on one of those people opposite." "Let it be on yonder crockery-ware man, who is the most conspicuous," said Powell, and Twm, of course, could have no possible objection. The magistrate opened the window, and called in a tone of authority, "Come here, you fellow; go directly to the Black Lion, and tell the landlord to let you have Justice Powell's black mare, and bring her here to me." "I can't quit my goods, sir," said Roger, "or I would willingly oblige you." "I tell you, fellow, do as I order you, or I shall kick you and your ware out of the town," said Powell in a bl.u.s.tering tone, and with a look the most terrifying that he could a.s.sume. Roger repeated his former answer; and when the magistrate increased his threats, he burst out into a rude laugh, and, without further deference, said, he really believed that his worship was drunk: this was enough, and the worthy magistrate felt himself completely put down. Our wag now took his turn, and commenced with him: "I say, fellow, did'st thou ever see, or hear of Twm Shon Catti?" "Yes," replied Roger, "often at Llandovery, once at Cardigan, and now I see him before me at Brecon." "Well then," continued Twm, "I order thee to give us a dance, in the middle of thy crockery." "With all my heart, if _you_ order it, for I should dread to disobey Twm Shon Catti more than twenty times my loss." On which he jumped, capered, and danced, in the midst of his brittle commodities, kicking and treading the dishes, pans, basins, and other articles, to powder beneath his feet.

"By the Lord, thou art a strange fellow;" said Powell, as he paid him down the amount of his forfeit; "and I foresee that there's much more luck for thee than thou dreamest of: and I confidently antic.i.p.ate what will surely come to pa.s.s in thy favour, my Cardiganian hero."

These words, uttered in a very pointed manner, and with a significant expression of countenance, could not but excite surprise in him, to whom they were addressed; but on parting with the other gentlemen, after the jovial supper at the magistrate's, he found, to his utter amazement, that Powell was in the whole secret of his affairs with the lady of Ystrad Fin. "She once," said he, "played me a jade's trick, but no matter, we are now friends, and she has even a.s.sisted me in my suit with her amiable friend, Miss Meredith. In heart and soul, she is attached to you, Jones, but she is a weak yielding woman beneath the terrors of her father's frown, and in some evil hour might again sacrifice herself, if you are too long out of her sight. She is proud of you, and of your wild achievements, and even finds excuses for your most blameable courses.

Now, my advice is, that you will endeavour to distinguish yourself during the races, and start for the gold plate: the grey horse, I suspect, has blood in him, and will beat the best that is to run." "But why," asked Twm, "did she not keep her promise to meet me at Llandovery fair?"

Powell replied that she was prevented by her father's sudden illness; and great is her sorrow for the disappointment she must have caused.

The next morning was ushered in with the ringing of bells, firing of guns, and every demonstration of the gaiety that prevails on a gala day; and this was an especial one, to be honored successively by the Eisteddvod, the Races, and a grand Ball. Between eleven and twelve o'clock, our hero, with many other musical and literary compet.i.tors, entered the town hall, in bardic trim, with the harp of his friend Ianto Gwyn, slung by a blue ribbon, and attached to his shoulder.

The hall, which was handsomely decorated, now shone with the presence of a vast number of well-dressed ladies and gentlemen; in fact, it was a bright a.s.semblage of the beauty and fashion of the town, and surrounding country, sitting in anxious expectation of the commencement. At length the business of the meeting was begun by a speech from the president, who occupied a central seat on the raised platform. He dwelt emphatically on the laudable object of the Eisteddvod; "to preserve from annihilation one of the most ancient languages spoken by mankind, remarkable for its copiousness, energy, and expression; that, like a perpetual living miracle, kept its firm stand in this solitary nook of country, the princ.i.p.al vestige of our national characteristics;-to revive and preserve the beautiful melodies which had been the delight of our gallant and patriotic forefathers;-and lastly, by emulation, to keep alive the brilliant blaze of the native Awen, the darling poesy of the land, which yielded their fragrant and refreshing blossoms, lovely sacrifices on the altar of Taste; that with their incense appeased the rugged Genius of the cold and stern realities of life." Penillion singing succeeded; in which the minstrels of Merionethshire excelled. The rest went on in rotation, minutely according with the description given by the ever-faithful Michael Drayton. {245a}

-"Some there were bards, that in their sacred rage Recorded the descents, and acts of every age; Some with nimble joints that struck the warbling string; In fing'ring some unskill'd, but used right well to sing To other's harp; of which you both might find Great plenty, and of each excelling in their kind, That at the Stethva {245b} oft obtain'd a victor's praise, Had won the silver harp, and worn Apollo's bays; Whose verses they deduced from those first golden times, In sundry forms of feet, and sundry suits of rhymes.

In Englyns {245c} some there were that in their subject strain; Some makers that again affect a loftier vein, Rehea.r.s.e their high conceits in Cowyths; {245d} other some In Owdels {245e} theirs express, as matter haps to come.

So varying still their moods, observing yet in all, Their quant.i.ties, their rests, their measures metrical; For to that sacred art they most themselves apply, Addicted from their birth to so much poesy, That in the mountains those who scarce have seen a book, Most skilfully will make, as though from art they took."

Among the given subjects for a Cowydd, or Poem, was "Govid," or Affliction, for which it turned out that there was but one who had written on it, and, to Twm's unutterable surprise, he heard his own poem of that t.i.tle recited, and more than all, a prize awarded to it by the umpires. Lady Devereux, who had attached her name to this effusion, was called upon to receive the meed of her talents. That lady, who sat by her father, as one of the audience, now rose with dignity, and said with some emotion, that the poem so highly honored; was not of her composition, but had been sent to her by its author, a person of taste and ingenuity, whom she was bound ever to esteem; as to his valour and courtesy she had once been indebted for the preservation of her life.

Then naming Mr. Thomas Jones, as the author, she pointed him out; and, amid loud and long applause, a handsome silver medal was placed round his neck.

But why should we prolong, by intermediate detail, the ultimatum so easily intic.i.p.ated by the reader? Our hero won also the miniature silver harp, and the gold cup at the races; the admiration of the ladies at the ball, and withal, the wonder and esteem of the Breconians. But alas! the buoyancy of spirits, and exultation of heart, which owed their evanescent existence to these distinctions, was soon doomed to give way to feelings of contrasting severity. Now, while in the zenith of his glory, confidently antic.i.p.ating, as the final crown of his happiness, the willing hand of his mistress, a note for him arrived at the inn, from the fair widow, that threw him into absolute despair-she told him in plain terms, that unless he could outwit her, all his hopes of her hand would be utterly in vain. This intimation he could understand only as a formal _permit_ to wear the willow as soon as he pleased; that she was otherwise engaged, and had altogether done with him.

Meeting Miss Meredith in the walks soon afterwards, he sought an explanation with much earnestness, but she only burst out into laughter at his "serious sad face," as she called it, and made her escape from his importunities. This confirmed the worst construction which he had put on her conduct, and the "vile caprice and inconsistency of woman," became the subjects of his bitterest railing. Hearing that her company had preceded her in the way home, next evening, and that she was about to follow them alone, he resolved to way-lay, and put her under contribution, at any rate; which he conceived would be one way, at least, of outwitting her, and perhaps the right one.

Disguising himself in a heavy great coat, and a rough hairy travelling cap, which had always been his treasury, in preference to a pocket, in case of being at any time overpowered by numbers on the road, as no suspicion would attach of money being there concealed; he took his stand by the gate, that in those days led from the town into the mountains, through which the road ran to Llanspyddyd, Trecastle, and Llandovery. At length the gay widow arrived, and Twm immediately caught a firm hold of her bridle, and, in an a.s.sumed snuffling tone of voice, demanded her money. She begged hard for mercy on her pocket, but in vain; and gave at last a considerable sum, which, she said, was the whole contents of her pocket. Our hero, while placing the booty in the crown of his cap, declared himself quite satisfied: "And so am I!" cried the spirited widow, and, at the same moment, grasped his cap and its whole contents, laughing aloud as she galloped away from him, she cried, "thus the widow outwits and triumphs over Twm."

Here was our hero, at length, in a deplorable dilemma;-shorn of his laurels, and at once a bankrupt in love and fortune; as the cap contained the whole of the money brought with him to Brecon, as well as what he had gained there. This inauspicious adventure, although it damped his spirits for the time, had the ultimate effect of rousing his latent energies to the highest pitch. He was not long in hatching a scheme to forward his purposes, that, however, required the aid (which was offered to him) of Powell and his two friends. Twelve o'clock the next morning saw him dismounting at the door of Ystrad Fin, accoutred in a military costume, intended as a disguise, to gain immediate admittance as a stranger. To his great dismay, instead of finding the door fly open to his knock, as he expected, it appeared to have been barricaded against him. The lady of the mansion, with pompous formality, appeared at the window, like the warder of a fortress holding a parley at an outpost. In a gay spirit of bantering, she declared, that the military uniform became him exceedingly, and begged to know what rank he held in the army. Our hero parried these home thrusts with but an ordinary degree of grace, and, in a bowed spirit, intreated admission to the inner walls. The lady Joan was quite peremptory in her refusal, declaring, that having lately heard so much to his disadvantage, she had decided to break off all future acquaintance with him as a lover; "especially," added she, "as, instead of the witty person I thought you, I find you quite a dull animal, that any school-girl might outwit." Here she indulged in a provoking laugh, and bade him "good-bye," as she turned to close the window. "Nay then," said Twm in a desponding key, "if we are indeed to be henceforth strangers, as we _have been_ friends, true and warm friends, you will give me your hand, at least, in parting." She slowly stretched out her hand at the window, and our hero, with the eager spring of a hungry tiger, darted forward, grasped her wrist with his left hand, and drawing his sword with the right, exclaimed in a tone of fury, "Revenge at least is left me-by yon blessed sky above us, I'll be trifled with no longer-off goes your hand, unless you consent to our union this instant, and on this very spot." "Lord! don't squeeze so hard and look so fierce," cried the lady of Ystrad Fin. Twm, with increased boisterousness, resumed, "On your answer will depend whether, for the remainder of your life, you will have a single, or a pair of hands-for on the p.r.o.nouncing of a negative, this hand, this soft white hand, beautiful as it is, will instantly fly, severed from the wrist." "I would not so much care," cried the lady of Ystrad Fin, "but for your horrid name; I could not endure to be called Mrs. Twm Shon Catti." "I have protested bitterly, and will not be forsworn," cried Twm, "that here, even here, with your hand thus stretched through the window, the marriage ceremony shall be performed; and so your answer at once without evasion." "The parson of our parish is gone to a christening," said the lady of Ystrad Fin. "Yes or no!" roared the terrific Twm, menacing the threatened blow.

"Well then, as I could not handle a knife and fork, or play my spinnet, or give you a box on the ear when I want pastime, I may as well say-yes!"

"Bless thee for that," cried Twm in extacy, and eagerly kissed the captured hand. With his left hand he drew forth a small bugle, and blew a loud blast that was re-echoed by the surrounding mountains.