She Spoke In Terms Of High Respect
And Admiration Of Her Minister, And Said That A New Church Was
Being Built, The Old One Not Being Large Enough To Accommodate The
Numbers Who Thronged To Hear Him.
I had a noble goose for dinner, to which I did ample justice.
About four o'clock, the weather having cleared up, I took a stroll.
It was a beautiful evening, though rain clouds still hovered about.
I wandered to the northern end of Llyn Tegid, which I had passed in
the preceding evening. The wind was blowing from the south, and
tiny waves were beating against the shore, which consisted of small
brown pebbles. The lake has certainly not its name, which
signifies Lake of Beauty, for nothing. It is a beautiful sheet of
water, and beautifully situated. It is oblong and about six miles
in length. On all sides, except to the north, it is bounded by
hills. Those at the southern end are very lofty, the tallest of
which is Arran, which lifts its head to the clouds like a huge
loaf. As I wandered on the strand I thought of a certain British
prince and poet, who in the very old time sought a refuge in the
vicinity of the lake from the rage of the Saxons. His name was
Llewarch Hen, of whom I will now say a few words.
Llewarch Hen, or Llewarch the Aged, was born about the commencement
of the sixth and died about the middle of the seventh century,
having attained to the prodigious age of one hundred and forty or
fifty years, which is perhaps the lot of about forty individuals in
the course of a millennium. If he was remarkable for his years he
was no less so for the number of his misfortunes. He was one of
the princes of the Cumbrian Britons; but Cumbria was invaded by the
Saxons, and a scene of horrid war ensued. Llewarch and his sons,
of whom he had twenty-four, put themselves at the head of their
forces, and in conjunction with the other Cumbrian princes made a
brave but fruitless opposition to the invaders. Most of his sons
were slain, and he himself with the remainder sought shelter in
Powys, in the hall of Cynddylan, its prince. But the Saxon bills
and bows found their way to Powys too. Cynddylan was slain, and
with him the last of the sons of Llewarch, who, reft of his
protector, retired to a hut by the side of the lake of Bala, where
he lived the life of a recluse, and composed elegies on his sons
and slaughtered friends, and on his old age, all of which abound
with so much simplicity and pathos that the heart of him must be
hard indeed who can read them unmoved. Whilst a prince he was
revered for his wisdom and equity, and he is said in one of the
historical triads to have been one of the three consulting warriors
of Arthur.
In the evening I attended service in the old church at Bala. The
interior of the edifice was remarkably plain; no ornament of any
kind was distinguishable; the congregation was overflowing, amongst
whom I observed the innkeeper and his wife, the little freckled
maid and the boots. The entire service was in Welsh. Next to the
pew in which I sat was one filled with young singing women, all of
whom seemed to have voices of wonderful power. The prayers were
read by a strapping young curate at least six feet high. The
sermon was preached by the rector, and was a continuation of the
one which I had heard him preach in the morning. It was a very
comforting discourse, as the preacher clearly proved that every
sinner will be pardoned who comes to Jesus. I was particularly
struck with one part. The preacher said that Jesus' arms being
stretched out upon the cross was emblematic of His surprising love
and His willingness to receive anybody. The service concluded with
the noble anthem Teyrnasa Jesu Mawr, "May Mighty Jesus reign!"
The service over I returned to the parlour of the inn. There I sat
for a long-time, lone and solitary, staring at the fire in the
grate. I was the only guest in the house; a great silence
prevailed both within and without; sometimes five minutes elapsed
without my hearing a sound, and then, perhaps, the silence would be
broken by a footstep at a distance in the street. At length,
finding myself yawning, I determined to go to bed. The freckled
maid as she lighted me to my room inquired how I liked the sermon.
"Very much," said I. "Ah," said she, "did I not tell you that Mr
Pugh was a capital preacher?" She then asked me how I liked the
singing of the gals who sat in the next pew to mine. I told her
that I liked it exceedingly. "Ah," said she, "them gals have the
best voices in Bala. They were once Methody gals, and sang in the
chapels, but were converted, and are now as good Church as myself.
Them gals have been the cause of a great many convarsions, for all
the young fellows of their acquaintance amongst the Methodists - "
"Follow them to church," said I, "and in time become converted.
That's a thing of course. If the Church gets the girls she is
quite sure of the fellows."
CHAPTER LXXIV
Proceed on Journey - The Lad and Dog - Old Bala - The Pass -
Extensive View - The Two Men - The Tap Nyth - The Meeting of the
Waters - The Wild Valley - Dinas Mawddwy.
THE Monday morning was gloomy and misty, but it did not rain, a
circumstance which gave me no little pleasure, as I intended to
continue my journey without delay. After breakfast I bade farewell
to my kind host, and also to the freckled maid, and departed, my
satchel o'er my shoulder and my umbrella in my hand.
I had consulted the landlord on the previous day as to where I had
best make my next halt, and had been advised by him to stop at
Mallwyd.
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