Wild Scenery - Awful Chasm - John Greaves - Durham County - Queen Philippa - The Two Aldens - Welsh Wife - The Noblest Business - The Welsh and the Salve - The Lad John.
A RAINY and boisterous night was succeeded by a bright and beautiful morning. I arose and having ordered breakfast went forth to see what kind of country I had got into. I found myself amongst wild, strange-looking hills, not, however, of any particular height. The house, which seemed to front the east, stood on the side of a hill, on a wide platform abutting on a deep and awful chasm, at the bottom of which chafed and foamed the Rheidol. This river enters the valley of Pont Erwyd from the north-west, then makes a variety of snake-like turns, and at last bears away to the south-east just below the inn. The banks are sheer walls, from sixty to a hundred feet high, and the bed of the river has all the appearance of a volcanic rent. A brook, running from the south past the inn, tumbles into the chasm at an angle, and forms the cascade whose sound had lulled me to sleep the preceding night.
After breakfasting I paid my bill, and set out for the Devil's Bridge without seeing anything more of that remarkable personage in whom were united landlord, farmer, poet, and mighty fine gentleman - the master of the house. I soon reached the bottom of the valley, where are a few houses and the bridge from which the place takes its name, Pont Erwyd signifying the bridge of Erwyd. As Iwas looking over the bridge, near which are two or three small waterfalls, an elderly man in a grey coat, followed by a young lad and dog, came down the road which I had myself just descended.
"Good day, sir," said he, stopping, when he came upon the bridge.
"I suppose you are bound my road?"
"Ah," said I, recognising the old mining captain with whom I had talked in the kitchen the night before, "is it you? I am glad to see you. Yes, I am bound your way, provided you are going to the Devil's Bridge.""Then, sir, we can go together, for I am bound to my mine, which lies only a little way t'other side of the Devil's Bridge."Crossing the bridge of Erwyd, we directed our course to the south-east.
"What young man is that," said I, "who is following behind us?""The young man, sir, is my son John, and the dog with him is his dog Joe.""And what may your name be, if I may take the liberty of asking?""Greaves, sir; John Greaves from the county of Durham.""Ah! a capital county that," said I.
"You like the county, sir? God bless you! John!" said he in a loud voice, turning to the lad, "why don't you offer to carry the gentleman's knapsack?""Don't let him trouble himself," said I. "As I was just now saying, a capital county is Durham county.""You really had better let the boy carry your bag, sir.""No," said I, "I would rather carry it myself. I question upon the whole whether there is a better county in England.""Is it long since your honour was in Durham county?""A good long time. A matter of forty years.""Forty years! - why that's the life of a man. That's longer than Ihave been out of the county myself. I suppose your honour can't remember much about the county.""Oh yes, I can! I remember a good deal.""Please, your honour, tell me what you remember about the county.
It would do me good to hear it."
"Well, I remember it was a very fine county in more respects than one. One part of it was full of big hills and mountains, where there were mines of coal and lead, with mighty works with tall chimneys spouting out black smoke, and engines roaring, and big wheels going round, some turned by steam, and others by what they call forces, that is, brooks of water dashing down steep channels.
Another part was a more level country, with beautiful woods, happy-looking farm-houses well-filled fields and rich, glorious meadows, in which stood stately, with brown sides and short horns, the Durham ox.""Oh dear, oh dear!" said my companion. "Ah! I see your honour knows everything about Durham county. Forces? none but one who had been in Durham county would have used that word. I haven't heard it for five-and-thirty years. Forces! there was a force close to my village. I wonder if your honour has ever been in Durham city?""Oh yes! I have been there."
"Does your honour remember anything about Durham city?""Oh yes! I remember a good deal about it.""Then, your honour, pray tell us what you remember about it - pray do I perhaps it will do me good.""Well then, I remember that it was a fine old city standing on a hill with a river running under it, and that it had a fine old church, one of the finest in the of Britain; likewise a fine old castle; and last, not least, a capital old inn, where I got a capital dinner off roast Durham beef, and a capital glass of ale, which I believe was the cause, of my being ever after fond of ale.""Dear me! Ah, I see your honour knows all about Durham city. And now let me ask one question. How came your honour to Durham, city and county? I don't think your honour is a Durham man either of town or field.""I am not; but when I was a little boy I passed through Durham county with my mother and brother to a place called Scotland.""Scotland! a queer country that, your honour!""So it is," said I; "a queerer country I never saw in all my life.""And a queer set of people, your honour.""So they are," said I; "a queerer set of people than the Scotch you would scarcely see in a summer's day.""The Durham folks, neither of town or field, have much reason to speak well of the Scotch, your honour.""I dare say not," said I; "very few people have.""And yet the Durham folks, your honour, generally contrived to give them as good as they brought.""That they did," said I; "a pretty licking the Durham folks once gave the Scots under the walls of Durham city, after the scamps had been plundering the country for three weeks - a precious licking they gave them, slaying I don't know how many thousands, and taking their king prisoner.""So they did, your honour, and under the command of a woman too.""Very true," said I; "Queen Philippa."
