Wild Wales

"Another time there happened a great wonder connected with an old man of Carmarthen, who was in the habit of carrying fish to Brecon, Menny, and Monmouth, and returning with the poorer kind of Gloucester cheese: my people knew he was on the road, and had made ready for him, the weather being dreadful, wind blowing and snow drifting. Well! in the middle of the night my daughters heard the voice of the old man at the gate, and their mother called to them to open it quick, and invite the old man to come in to the fire! One of the girls got up forthwith, but when she went out there was n.o.body to be seen. On the morrow, lo, and behold! the body of the old man was brought past on a couch, he having perished in the snow on the mountain of Tre'r Castell. Now this is the truth of the matter."

Many wonderful feats did Tom perform connected with loading and carrying, which acquired for him the reputation of being the best wood carter of the south. His dexterity at moving huge bodies was probably never equalled. Robinson Crusoe was not half so handy. Only see how he moved a s.h.i.+p into the water, which a mult.i.tude of people were unable to do.

"After keeping the gate for two or three years," says he, "I took the lease of a piece of ground in Llandeilo Fawr, and built a house upon it, which I got licensed as a tavern for my daughters to keep. I myself went on carrying wood as usual. Now it happened that my employer, the merchant at Abermarlais, had built a small s.h.i.+p, of about thirty or forty tons, in the wood, about a mile and a quarter from the river Towy, which is capable of floating small vessels as far as Carmarthen. He had resolved that the people should draw it to the river by way of sport, and had caused proclamation to be made in four parish churches, that on such a day a s.h.i.+p would be launched at Abermarlais, and that food and drink would be given to any one who would come and lend a hand at the work.

Four hogsheads of ale were broached, a great oven full of bread was baked, plenty of cheese and b.u.t.ter bought, and meat cooked for the more respectable people. The s.h.i.+p was provided with four wheels, or rather four great rolling stocks, fenced about with iron, with great big axle-trees in them, well greased against the appointed day. I had been loading in the wood that day, and sending the team forward, I went to see the business-and a pretty piece of business it turned out. All the food was eaten, the drink swallowed to the last drop, the s.h.i.+p drawn about three roods, and then left in a deep ditch. By this time night was coming on, and the mult.i.tude went away, some drunk, some hungry for want of food, but the greater part laughing as if they would split their sides. The merchant cried like a child, bitterly lamenting his folly, and told me that he should have to take the s.h.i.+p to pieces before he could ever get it out of the ditch.

"I told him that I could take it to the river, provided I could but get three or four men to help me; whereupon he said that if I could but get the vessel to the water, he would give me anything I asked, and earnestly begged me to come the next morning, if possible. I did come, with the lad and four horses. I went before the team, and set the men to work to break a hole through a great old wall, which stood as it were before the s.h.i.+p. We then laid a piece of timber across the hole from which was a chain, to which the tackle-that is, the rope and pulleys-was hooked. We then hooked one end of the rope to the s.h.i.+p, and set the horses to pull at the other. The s.h.i.+p came out of the hole prosperously enough, and then we had to hook the tackle to a tree, which was growing near, and by this means we got the s.h.i.+p forward; but when we came to soft ground we were obliged to put planks under the wheels to prevent their sinking under the immense weight; when we came to the end of the foremost planks, we put the hinder ones before, and so on; when there was no tree at hand to which we could hook the tackle, we were obliged to drive a post down to hook it to. So from tree to post it got down to the river in a few days. I was promised n.o.ble wages by the merchant, but I never got anything from him but promises and praises. Some people came to look at us, and gave us money to get ale, and that was all."

The merchant subsequently turned out a very great knave, cheating Tom on various occasions, and finally broke, very much in his debt. Tom was obliged to sell off everything, and left South Wales without horses or waggon; his old friend the Muse, however, stood him in good stead.

"Before I left," says he, "I went to Brecon, and printed the 'Interlude of the King, the Justice, the Bishop, and the Husbandman,' and got an old acquaintance of mine to play it with me, and help me to sell the books.

I likewise busied myself in getting subscribers to a book of songs called the 'Garden of Minstrelsy.' It was printed at Trefecca. The expense attending the printing amounted to fifty-two pounds, but I was fortunate enough to dispose of two thousand copies. I subsequently composed an interlude called 'Pleasure and Care,' and printed it; and after that I made an interlude called the 'Three Powerful Ones of the World: Poverty, Love, and Death.'"

The poet's daughters were not successful in the tavern speculation at Llandeilo, and followed their father into North Wales. The second he apprenticed to a milliner, the other two lived with him till the day of his death. He settled at Denbigh in a small house, which he was enabled to furnish by means of two or three small sums which he recovered for work done a long time before. Shortly after his return, his father died, and the lawyer seized the little property "for the old curse," and turned Tom's mother out.

After his return from the South, Tom went about for some time playing interludes, and then turned his hand to many things. He learnt the trade of stonemason, took jobs, and kept workmen. He then went amongst certain bricklayers, and induced them to teach him their craft; "and shortly,"

The following feats of strength he performed after his return from South Wales, when he was probably about sixty years of age:-

"About a year after my return from the South," says he, "I met with an old carrier of wood, who had many a time worked along with me. He and I were at the Hand at Ruthyn, along with various others, and in the course of discourse my friend said to me: 'Tom, thou art much weaker than thou wast when we carted wood together.' I answered that in my opinion I was not a bit weaker than I was then. Now it happened that at the moment we were talking there were some sacks of wheat in the hall, which were going to Chester by the carrier's waggon. They might hold about three bushels each, and I said that if I could get three of the sacks upon the table, and had them tied together, I would carry them into the street and back again; and so I did; many who were present tried to do the same thing, but all failed.

"Another time when I was at Chester I lifted a barrel of porter from the street to the hinder part of the waggon, solely by strength of back and arms."

He was once run over by a loaded waggon, but, strange to say, escaped without the slightest injury.

Towards the close of his life he had strong religious convictions, and felt a loathing for the sins which he had committed. "On their account,"

says he, in the concluding page of his biography, "there is a strong necessity for me to consider my ways, and to inquire about a Saviour, since it is utterly impossible for me to save myself without obtaining knowledge of the merits of the Mediator, in which I hope I shall terminate my short time on earth in the peace of G.o.d enduring unto all eternity."

He died in the year 1810, at the age of 71, shortly after the death of his wife, who seems to have been a faithful, loving partner. By her side he was buried in the earth of the graveyard of the White Church, near Denbigh. There can be little doubt that the souls of both will be accepted on the great day when, as Gronwy Owen says:-

"Like corn from the belly of the ploughed field, in a thick crop, those buried in the earth shall arise, and the sea shall cast forth a thousand myriads of dead above the deep billowy way."

CHAPTER LX

Mystery Plays-The Two Prime Opponents-a.n.a.lysis of Interlude-"Riches and Poverty"-Tom's Grand Qualities.

In the preceding chapter I have given an abstract of the life of Tom O'

the Dingle; I will now give an a.n.a.lysis of his interlude; first, however, a few words on interludes in general. It is difficult to say, with anything like certainty, what is the meaning of the word interlude. It may mean, as Warton supposes in his history of English Poetry, a short play performed between the courses of a banquet, or festival; or it may mean the playing of something by two or more parties, the interchange of playing or acting which occurs when two or more people act. It was about the middle of the fifteenth century that dramatic pieces began in England to be called Interludes; for some time previous they had been styled Moralities; but the earliest name by which they were known was Mysteries.

The first Mysteries composed in England were by one Ra.n.a.ld, or Ranulf, a monk of Chester, who flourished about 1322, whose verses are mentioned rather irreverently in one of the visions of Piers Plowman, who puts them in the same rank as the ballads about Robin Hood and Maid Marion, making Sloth say:

"I cannot perfitly my Paternoster as the priest it singeth, But I can rhymes of Robin Hood and Ra.n.a.ld of Chester."

Long, however, before the time of this Ra.n.a.ld, Mysteries had been composed and represented both in Italy and France. The Mysteries were very rude compositions; little more, as Warton says, than literal representations of portions of Scripture. They derived their name of Mysteries from being generally founded on the more mysterious parts of Holy Writ-for example, the Incarnation, the Atonement and the Resurrection. The Moralities displayed something more of art and invention than the Mysteries; in them virtues, vices and qualities were personified, and something like a plot was frequently to be discovered.

They were termed Moralities because each had its moral, which was spoken at the end of the piece by a person called the Doctor. {349} Much that has been said about the moralities holds good with respect to the interludes. Indeed, for some time dramatic pieces were called moralities and interludes indifferently. In both there is a mixture of allegory and reality. The latter interludes, however, display more of everyday life than was ever observable in the moralities, and more closely approximate to modern plays. Several writers of genius have written interludes, amongst whom are the English Skelton and the Scottish Lindsay, the latter of whom wrote eight pieces of that kind, the most celebrated of which is called "The Puir Man and the Pardonar." Both of these writers flourished about the same period, and made use of the interlude as a means of satirising the vices of the popish clergy. In the time of Charles the First the interlude went much out of fas.h.i.+on in England; in fact, the play, or regular drama, had superseded it. In Wales, however, it continued to the beginning of the present century, when it yielded to the influence of Methodism. Of all Welsh interlude composers, Twm O'r Nant, or Tom of the Dingle, was the most famous. Here follows the promised a.n.a.lysis of his "Riches and Poverty."

The entire t.i.tle of the interlude is to this effect. The two prime opponents Riches and Poverty. A brief exposition of their contrary effects on the world; with short and appropriate explanations of their quality and substance, according to the rule of the four elements, Water, Fire, Earth, and Air.

First of all enter Fool, Sir Jemant Wamal, who in rather a foolish speech tells the audience that they are about to hear a piece composed by Tom the poet. Then appears Captain Riches, who makes a long speech about his influence in the world, and the general contempt in which Poverty is held; he is, however, presently checked by the Fool, who tells him some home truths, and asks him, among other questions, whether Solomon did not say that it is not meet to despise a poor man, who conducts himself rationally. Then appears Howel Tightbelly, the miser, who in capital verse, with very considerable glee and exultation, gives an account of his manifold rascalities. Then comes his wife, Esther Steady, home from the market, between whom and her husband there is a pithy dialogue.

Captain Riches and Captain Poverty then meet, without rancour, however, and have a long discourse about the providence of G.o.d, whose agents they own themselves to be. Enter then an old worthless scoundrel called Diogyn Trwstan, or Luckless Lazybones, who is upon the parish, and who, in a very entertaining account of his life, confesses that he was never good for anything, but was a liar and an idler from his infancy. Enter again the Miser along with poor Lowry, who asks the Miser for meal, and other articles, but gets nothing but threatening language. There is then a very edifying dialogue between Mr. Contemplation and Mr. Truth, who, when they retire, are succeeded on the stage by the Miser and John the Tavern-keeper. The publican owes the Miser money, and begs that he will be merciful to him. The Miser, however, swears that he will be satisfied with nothing but bond and judgment on his effects. The publican very humbly says that he will go to a friend of his, in order to get the bond made out; almost instantly comes the Fool, who reads an inventory of the publican's effects. The Miser then sings for very gladness, because everything in the world has..h.i.therto gone well with him; turning round, however, what is his horror and astonishment to behold Mr. Death, close by him. Death hauls the Miser away, and then appears the Fool to moralise and dismiss the audience.

The appropriate explanations mentioned in the t.i.tle are given in various songs which the various characters sing after describing themselves, or after dialogues with each other. The announcement that the whole exposition, etc., will be after the rule of the four elements, is rather startling; the dialogue, however, between Captain Riches and Captain Poverty shows that Tom was equal to his subject, and promised nothing that he could not perform.

_Enter_ CAPTAIN POVERTY.

O Riches, thy figure is charming and bright, And to speak in thy praise all the world doth delight, But I'm a poor fellow all tatter'd and torn, Whom all the world treateth with insult and scorn.

RICHES.

However mistaken the judgment may be Of the world which is never from ignorance free, The parts we must play, which to us are a.s.sign'd, According as G.o.d has enlighten'd our mind.

Of elements four did our Master create, The earth and all in it with skill the most great; Need I the world's four materials declare- Are they not water, fire, earth, and air?

Too wise was the mighty Creator to frame A world from one element, water or flame; The one is full moist and the other full hot, And a world made of either were useless, I wot.

And if it had all of mere earth been compos'd, And no water nor fire been within it enclos'd, It could ne'er have produc'd for a huge mult.i.tude Of all kinds of living things suitable food.

And if G.o.d what was wanted had not fully known, But created the world of these three things alone, How would any creature the heaven beneath, Without the blest air have been able to breathe?

Thus all things created, the G.o.d of all grace, Of four prime materials, each good in its place.

The work of His hands, when completed, He view'd, And saw and p.r.o.nounc'd that 'twas seemly and good.

POVERTY.

In the marvellous things, which to me thou hast told The wisdom of G.o.d I most clearly behold, And did He not also make man of the same Materials He us'd when the world He did frame?

RICHES.

Creation is all, as the sages agree, Of the elements four in man's body that be; Water's the blood, and fire is the nature Which prompts generation in every creature.

The earth is the flesh which with beauty is rife, The air is the breath, without which is no life; So man must be always accounted the same As the substances four which exist in his frame.

And as in their creation distinction there's none 'Twixt man and the world, so the Infinite One Unto man a clear wisdom did bounteously give The nature of everything to perceive.

POVERTY.

But one thing to me pa.s.sing strange doth appear: Since the wisdom of man is so bright and so clear, How comes there such jarring and warring to be In the world betwixt Riches and Poverty?

RICHES.

That point we'll discuss without pa.s.sion or fear With the aim of instructing the listeners here; And haply some few who instruction require May profit derive like the bee from the briar.

Man as thou knowest, in his generation Is a type of the world and of all the creation; Difference there's none in the manner of birth 'Twixt the lowliest hinds and the lords of the earth.

The world which the same thing as man we account In one place is sea, in another is mount; A part of it rock, and a part of it dale- G.o.d's wisdom has made every place to avail.