He, however, soon desisted, and sat down evidently
disconcerted.
"Were you ever worse treated in South Wales by the people there
than you have been here by your own countrymen?" said I to the old
fellow.
"My countrymen?" said he; "this scamp is no countryman of mine; nor
is one of the whole kit. They are all from Wrexham, a mixture of
broken housekeepers and fellows too stupid to learn a trade; a set
of scamps fit for nothing in the world but to swear bodily against
honest men. They say they will stand up for Sir Watkin, and so
they will, but only in a box in the Court to give false evidence.
They won't fight for him on the banks of the river. Countrymen of
mine, indeed! they are no countrymen of mine; they are from
Wrexham, where the people speak neither English nor Welsh, not even
South Welsh as you do."
Then giving a kind of flourish with his stick he departed.
CHAPTER LXVIII
Llan Silin Church - Tomb of Huw Morris - Barbara and Richard -
Welsh Country Clergyman - The Swearing Lad - Anglo-Saxon Devils.
HAVING discussed my ale I asked the landlord if he would show me
the grave of Huw Morris. "With pleasure, sir," said he; "pray
follow me." He led me to the churchyard, in which several enormous
yew trees were standing, probably of an antiquity which reached as
far back as the days of Henry the Eighth, when the yew bow was
still the favourite weapon of the men of Britain.
