Lie." Much in this guise rolled my thoughts as I lay
stretched on the margin of the lake.
Satiated with musing I at last got up and endeavoured to regain the
road. I found it at last, though not without considerable
difficulty. I passed over moors, black and barren, along a dusty
road till I came to a valley; I was now almost choked with dust and
thirst, and longed for nothing in the world so much as for water;
suddenly I heard its blessed sound, and perceived a rivulet on my
left hand. It was crossed by two bridges, one immensely old and
terribly dilapidated, the other old enough, but in better repair -
went and drank under the oldest bridge of the two. The water
tasted of the peat of the moors, nevertheless I drank greedily of
it, for one must not be over-delicate upon the moors.
Refreshed with my draught I proceeded briskly on my way, and in a
little time saw a range of white buildings, diverging from the road
on the right hand, the gable of the first abutting upon it. A kind
of farm-yard was before them. A respectable-looking woman was
standing in the yard. I went up to her and inquired the name of
the place.
"These houses, sir," said she, "are called Tai Hirion Mignaint.
Look over that door and you will see T. H. which letters stand for
Tai Hirion. Mignaint is the name of the place where they stand."
I looked, and upon a stone which formed the lintel of the
middlemost door I read "T. H 1630."
The words Tai Hirion it will be as well to say signify the long
houses.
I looked long and steadfastly at the inscription, my mind full of
thoughts of the past.
"Many a year has rolled by since these houses were built," said I,
as I sat down on a stepping-stone.
"Many indeed, sir," said the woman, "and many a strange thing has
happened."
"Did you ever hear of one Oliver Cromwell?" said I.
"Oh, yes, sir, and of King Charles too. The men of both have been
in this yard and have baited their horses; aye, and have mounted
their horses from the stone on which you sit."
"I suppose they were hardly here together?" said I.
"No, no, sir," said the woman, "they were bloody enemies, and could
never set their horses together."
"Are these long houses," said I, "inhabited by different families?"
"Only by one, sir, they make now one farm-house."
"Are you the mistress of it," said I.
"I am, sir, and my husband is the master. Can I bring you
anything, sir?"
"Some water," said I, "for I am thirsty, though I drank under the
old bridge."
The good woman brought me a basin of delicious milk and water.
"What are the names of the two bridges," said I, "a little way from
here?"
"They are called, sir, the old and new bridge of Tai Hirion; at
least we call them so."
"And what do you call the ffrwd that runs beneath them?"
"I believe, sir, it is called the river Twerin."
"Do you know a lake far up there amidst the moors?"
"I have seen it, sir; they call it Llyn Twerin."
"Does the river Twerin flow from it?"
"I believe it does, sir, but I do not know."
"Is the lake deep?"
"I have heard that it is very deep, sir, so much so that nobody
knows it's depth."
"Are there fish in it?"
"Digon, sir, digon iawn, and some very large. I once saw a Pen-
hwyad from that lake which weighed fifty pounds."
After a little farther conversation I got up, and thanking the kind
woman departed. I soon left the moors behind me and continued
walking till I came to a few houses on the margin of a meadow or
fen in a valley through which the way trended to the east. They
were almost overshadowed by an enormous mountain which rose beyond
the fen on the south. Seeing a house which bore a sign, and at the
door of which a horse stood tied, I went in, and a woman coming to
meet me in a kind of passage, I asked her if I could have some ale.
"Of the best, sir," she replied, and conducted me down the passage
into a neat room, partly kitchen, partly parlour, the window of
which looked out upon the fen. A rustic-looking man sat smoking at
a table with a jug of ale before him. I sat down near him, and the
good woman brought me a similar jug of ale, which on tasting I
found excellent. My spirits which had been for some time very
flagging presently revived, and I entered into conversation with my
companion at the table. From him I learned that he was a farmer of
the neighbourhood, that the horse tied before the door belonged to
him, that the present times were very bad for the producers of
grain, with very slight likelihood of improvement; that the place
at which we were was called Rhyd y fen, or the ford across the fen;
that it was just half way between Festiniog and Bala, that the
clergyman of the parish was called Mr Pughe, a good kind of man,
but very purblind in a spiritual sense; and finally that there was
no safe religion in the world, save that of the Calvinistic-
Methodists, to which my companion belonged.
Having finished my ale I paid for it, and leaving the Calvinistic
farmer still smoking, I departed from Rhyd y fen. On I went along
the valley, the enormous hill on my right, a moel of about half its
height on my left, and a tall hill bounding the prospect in the
east, the direction in which I was going.
