What a strange wild cry it is; how
unlike any other sound in nature!
A cry which no combination of
letters can give the slightest idea of. What resemblance does
Shakespear's to-whit-to-whoo bear to the cry of the owl? none
whatever; those who hear it for the first time never know what it
is, however accustomed to talk of the cry of the owl and to-whit-
to-whoo. A man might be wandering through a wood with Shakespear's
owl-chorus in his mouth, but were he then to hear for the first
time the real shout of the owl he would assuredly stop short and
wonder whence that unearthly cry could proceed.
Yet no doubt that strange cry is a fitting cry for the owl, the
strangest in its habits and look of all birds, the bird of whom by
all nations the strangest tales are told. Oh, what strange tales
are told of the owl, especially in connection with its long-
lifedness; but of all the strange wild tales connected with the age
of the owl, strangest of all is the old Welsh tale. When I heard
the owl's cry in the groves of Pen y Coed that tale rushed into my
mind. I had heard it from the singular groom who had taught me to
gabble Welsh in my boyhood, and had subsequently read it in an old
tattered Welsh story-book, which by chance fell into my hands. The
reader will perhaps be obliged by my relating it.
"The eagle of the alder grove, after being long married and having
had many children by his mate, lost her by death, and became a
widower. After some time he took it into his head to marry the owl
of the Cowlyd Coomb; but fearing he should have issue by her, and
by that means sully his lineage, he went first of all to the oldest
creatures in the world in order to obtain information about her
age. First he went to the stag of Ferny-side Brae, whom he found
sitting by the old stump of an oak, and inquired the age of the
owl. The stag said: 'I have seen this oak an acorn which is now
lying on the ground without either leaves or bark: nothing in the
world wore it up but my rubbing myself against it once a day when I
got up, so I have seen a vast number of years, but I assure you
that I have never seen the owl older or younger than she is to-day.
However, there is one older than myself, and that is the salmon-
trout of Glyn Llifon.' To him went the eagle and asked him the age
of the owl and got for answer: 'I have a year over my head for
every gem on my skin and for every egg in my roe, yet have I always
seen the owl look the same; but there is one older than myself, and
that is the ousel of Cilgwry.' Away went the eagle to Cilgwry, and
found the ousel standing upon a little rock, and asked him the age
of the owl. Quoth the ousel: 'You see that the rock below me is
not larger than a man can carry in one of his hands: I have seen
it so large that it would have taken a hundred oxen to drag it, and
it has never been worn save by my drying my beak upon it once every
night, and by my striking the tip of my wing against it in rising
in the morning, yet never have I known the owl older or younger
than she is to-day. However, there is one older than I, and that
is the toad of Cors Fochnod; and unless he knows her age no one
knows it.' To him went the eagle and asked the age of the owl, and
the toad replied: 'I have never eaten anything save what I have
sucked from the earth, and have never eaten half my fill in all the
days of my life; but do you see those two great hills beside the
cross? I have seen the place where they stand level ground, and
nothing produced those heaps save what I discharged from my body,
who have ever eaten so very little - yet never have I known the owl
anything else but an old hag who cried Too-hoo-hoo, and scared
children with her voice even as she does at present.' So the eagle
of Gwernabwy; the stag of Ferny-side Brae; the salmon trout of Glyn
Llifon; the ousel of Cilgwry; the toad of Cors Fochnod, and the owl
of Coomb Cowlyd are the oldest creatures in the world; the oldest
of them all being the owl."
CHAPTER LIV
Chirk - The Middleton Family - Castell y Waen - The Park - The
Court Yard - The Young Housekeeper - The Portraits - Melin y
Castell - Humble Meal - Fine Chests for the Dead - Hales and
Hercules.
THE weather having become fine, myself and family determined to go
and see Chirk Castle, a mansion ancient and beautiful, and
abounding with all kinds of agreeable and romantic associations.
It was founded about the beginning of the fifteenth century by a St
John, Lord of Bletsa, from a descendant of whom it was purchased in
the year 1615 by Sir Thomas Middleton, the scion of an ancient
Welsh family who, following commerce, acquired a vast fortune, and
was Lord Mayor of London. In the time of the great civil war it
hoisted the banner of the king, and under Sir Thomas, the son of
the Lord Mayor, made a brave defence against Lambert, the
Parliamentary General, though eventually compelled to surrender.
It was held successively by four Sir Thomas Middletons, and if it
acquired a war-like celebrity under the second, it obtained a
peculiarly hospitable one under the fourth, whose daughter, the
fruit of a second marriage, became Countess of Warwick and
eventually the wife of the poet and moralist Addison.
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