This she presently brought me in a teacup, I drank it, the children amounting to five standing a little way from me staring at me. Iasked her if this was the house in which Gronwy was born. She said it was, but that it had been altered very much since his time -that three families had lived in it, but that she believed he was born about where we were now.
A man now coming in who lived at the next door, she said I had better speak to him and tell him what I wanted to know, which he could then communicate to her, as she could understand his way of speaking much better than mine. Through the man I asked her whether there was any one of the blood of Gronwy Owen living in the house. She pointed to the children and said they had all some of his blood. I asked in what relationship they stood to Gronwy. She said she could hardly tell, that tri priodas, three marriages stood between, and that the relationship was on the mother's side. Igathered from her that the children had lost their mother, that their name was Jones, and that their father was her son. I asked if the house in which they lived was their own; she said no, that it belonged to a man who lived at some distance. I asked if the children were poor.
"Very," said she.
I gave them each a trifle, and the poor old lady thanked me with tears in her eyes.
I asked whether the children could read; she said they all could, with the exception of the two youngest. The eldest she said could read anything, whether Welsh or English; she then took from the window-sill a book, which she put into my hand, saying the child could read it and understand it. I opened the book; it was an English school-book treating on all the sciences.
"Can you write?" said I to the child, a little stubby girl of about eight, with a broad flat red face and grey eyes, dressed in a chintz gown, a little bonnet on her head, and looking the image of notableness.
The little maiden, who had never taken her eyes off of me for a moment during the whole time I had been in the room, at first made no answer; being, however, bid by her grandmother to speak, she at length answered in a soft voice, "Medraf, I can.""Then write your name in this book," said I, taking out a pocket-book and a pencil, "and write likewise that you are related to Gronwy Owen - and be sure you write in Welsh."The little maiden very demurely took the book and pencil, and placing the former on the table wrote as follows:
"Ellen Jones yn perthyn o bell i gronow owen."That is, "Ellen Jones belonging from afar to Gronwy Owen."When I saw the name of Ellen I had no doubt that the children were related to the illustrious Gronwy. Ellen is a very uncommon Welsh name, but it seems to have been a family name of the Owens; it was borne by an infant daughter of the poet whom he tenderly loved, and who died whilst he was toiling at Walton in Cheshire, -"Ellen, my darling, Who liest in the Churchyard at Walton."says poor Gronwy in one of the most affecting elegies ever written.
After a little farther conversation I bade the family farewell and left the house. After going down the road a hundred yards I turned back in order to ask permission to gather a leaf from one of the sycamores. Seeing the man who had helped me in my conversation with the old woman standing at the gate, I told him what I wanted, whereupon he instantly tore down a handful of leaves and gave them to me. Thrusting them into my coat-pocket I thanked him kindly and departed.
Coming to the half-erected house, I again saw the man to whom I had addressed myself for information. I stopped, and speaking Spanish to him, asked how he had acquired the Spanish language.
"I have been in Chili, sir," said he in the same tongue, "and in California, and in those places I learned Spanish.""What did you go to Chili for?" said I; "I need not ask you on what account you went to California.""I went there as a mariner," said the man; "I sailed out of Liverpool for Chili.""And how is it," said I, "that being a mariner and sailing in a Liverpool ship you do not speak English?""I speak English, senor," said the man, "perfectly well.""Then how in the name of wonder," said I, speaking English, "came you to answer me in Spanish? I am an Englishman thorough bred.""I can scarcely tell you how it was, sir," said the man scratching his head, "but I thought I would speak to you in Spanish.""And why not English?" said I.
"Why, I heard you speaking Welsh," said the man; "and as for an Englishman speaking Welsh -""But why not answer me in Welsh?" said I.
"Why, I saw it was not your language, sir," said the man, "and as Ihad picked up some Spanish I thought it would be but fair to answer you in it.""But how did you know that I could speak Spanish?" said I.
"I don't know indeed, sir," said the man; "but I looked at you, and something seemed to tell me that you could speak Spanish. I can't tell you how it was sir," said he, looking me very innocently in the face, "but I was forced to speak Spanish to you. I was indeed!""The long and the short of it was," said I, "that you took me for a foreigner, and thought that it would be but polite to answer me in a foreign language.""I daresay it was so, sir," said the man. "I daresay it was just as you say.""How did you fare in California?" said I.
"Very fairly indeed, sir," said the man. "I made some money there, and brought it home, and with part of it I am building this house.""I am very happy to hear it," said I, "you are really a remarkable man - few return from California speaking Spanish as you do, and still fewer with money in their pockets."The poor fellow looked pleased at what I said, more especially at that part of the sentence which touched upon his speaking Spanish well. Wishing him many years of health and happiness in the house he was building, I left him, and proceeded on my path towards Pentraeth Goch.
After walking some way, I turned round in order to take a last look of the place which had so much interest for me. The mill may be seen from a considerable distance; so may some of the scattered houses, and also the wood which surrounds the house of the illustrious Gronwy. Prosperity to Llanfair! and may many a pilgrimage be made to it of the same character as my own.
