Pray what is the meaning of Darfel Gatherel?""Oh sir!" said the landlord, "you must answer that question yourself; I don't pretend to understand gibberish!""Darfel Gatherel," said I, "is not gibberish; it was the name of the great wooden image at Ty Dewi, or Saint David's, in Pembrokeshire, to which thousands of pilgrims in the days of popery used to repair for the purpose of adoring it, and which at the time of the Reformation was sent up to London as a curiosity, where it eventually served as firewood to burn the monk Forrest upon, who was sentenced to the stake by Henry the Eighth for denying his supremacy. What I want to know is, the meaning of the name, which I could never get explained, but which you who know the ancient British language perfectly can doubtless interpret.""Oh, sir," said the landlord, "when I said I knew the British language perfectly, I perhaps went too far there are, of course, some obsolete terms in the British tongue, which I don't understand. Dar, Dar - what is it? Darmod Cotterel amongst the rest; but to a general knowledge of the Welsh language I think Imay lay some pretensions; were I not well acquainted with it, Ishould not have carried off the prize at various eisteddfodau, as Ihave done. I am a poet, sir - a prydydd.""It is singular enough," said I, "that the only two Welsh poets Ihave seen have been innkeepers - one is yourself, the other a person I met in Anglesey. I suppose the Muse is fond of cwrw da.""You would fain be pleasant, sir," said the landlord; "but I beg leave to inform you that I am not fond of pleasantries; and now, as my wife and the servant are returned, I will have the pleasure of conducting you to the parlour.""Before I go," said I, "I should like to see my guide provided with what I ordered." I stayed till the lad was accommodated with bread and cheese and a foaming tankard of ale, and then bidding him farewell, I followed the landlord into the parlour, where I found a fire kindled, which, however, smoked exceedingly. I asked my host what I could have for supper, and was told that he did not know, but that if I would leave the matter to him he would send the best he could. As he was going away, I said: "So you are a poet?
Well, I am very glad to hear it, for I have been fond of Welsh poetry from my boyhood. What kind of verse do you employ in general? Did you ever write an awdl in the four-and-twenty measures? What are the themes of your songs? The deeds of the ancient heroes of South Wales, I suppose, and the hospitality of the great men of the neighbourhood who receive you as an honoured guest at their tables. I'll bet a guinea that however clever a fellow you may be you never sang anything in praise of your landlord's housekeeping equal to what Dafydd Nanmor sang in praise of that of Ryce of Twyn four hundred years ago:
'For Ryce if hundred thousands plough'd The lands around his fair abode;Did vines of thousand vineyards bleed, Still corn and wine great Ryce would need;If all the earth had bread's sweet savour, And water all had cyder's flavour, Three roaring feasts in Ryce's hall Would swallow earth and ocean all.'
Hey?"
"Really, sir," said the landlord, "I don't know how to reply to you, for the greater part of your discourse is utterly unintelligible to me. Perhaps you are a better Welshman than myself; but however that may be, I shall take the liberty of retiring in order to give orders about your supper."In about half-an-hour the supper made its appearance in the shape of some bacon and eggs. On tasting them I found them very good, and calling for some ale I made a very tolerable supper. After the things had been removed I drew near to the fire, but as it still smoked, I soon betook myself to the kitchen. My guide had taken his departure, but the others whom I had left were still there.
The landlord was talking in Welsh to a man in a rough great-coat, about sheep. Setting himself down near the fire I called for a glass of whiskey and water, and then observing that the landlord and his friend had suddenly become silent, I said: "Pray go on with your discourse; don't let me be any hindrance to you.""Yes, sir!" said the landlord snappishly, "go on with our discourse for your edification, I suppose?""Well," said I, "suppose it is for my edification; surely you don't grudge a stranger a little edification which will cost you nothing?""I don't know that, sir," said the landlord; "I don't know that.
Really, sir, the kitchen is not the place for a gentleman.""Yes, it is," said I, "provided the parlour smokes. Come, come, Iam going to have a glass of whiskey and water; perhaps you will take one with me.""Well, sir!" said the landlord, in rather a softened tone, "I have no objection to take a glass with you."Two glasses of whiskey and water were presently brought, and the landlord and I drank to each other's health.
"Is this a sheep district?" said I, after a pause of a minute or two.
"Yes, sir," said the landlord; "it may to a certain extent be called a sheep district.""I suppose the Southdown and Norfolk breeds would not do for these here parts," said I, with a regular Norfolk whine.
"No, sir, I don't think they would exactly," said the landlord, staring at me. "Do you know anything about sheep?""Plenty, plenty," said I; "quite as much indeed as about Welsh words and poetry." Then in a yet more whining tone than before, Isaid: "Do you think that a body with money in his pocket could hire a nice comfortable sheep farm hereabouts?""Oh, sir!" said the landlord in a furious tone, "you have come to look out for a farm, I see, and to outbid us poor Welshmen: it is on that account you have studied Welsh; but, sir, I would have you know - ""Come!" said I, "don't be afraid; I wouldn't have all the farms in your country, provided you would tie them in a string and offer them to me. If I talked about a farm, it was because I am in the habit of talking about everything, being versed in all matters, do you see, or affecting to be so, which comes much to the same thing.