Town of Newport - The Usk - Note of Recognition - An Old Acquaintance - Connamara Quean - The Wake - The Wild Irish - The Tramping Life - Business and Prayer - Methodists - Good Counsel.
NEWPORT is a large town in Monmouthshire, and had once walls and a castle. It is called in Welsh Cas Newydd ar Wysg, or the New Castle upon the Usk. It stands some miles below Caerlleon ar Wysg, and was probably built when that place, at one time one of the most considerable towns in Britain, began to fall into decay. The Wysg or Usk has its source among some wild hills in the south-west of Breconshire, and, after absorbing several smaller streams, amongst which is the Hondu, at the mouth of which Brecon stands, which on that account is called in Welsh Aber Hondu, and traversing the whole of Monmouthshire, enters the Bristol Channel near Newport, to which place vessels of considerable burden can ascend. Wysg or Usk is an ancient British word, signifying water, and is the same as the Irish word uisge or whiskey, for whiskey, though generally serving to denote a spirituous liquor, in great vogue amongst the Irish, means simply water. The proper term for the spirit is uisquebaugh, literally acqua vitae, but the compound being abbreviated by the English, who have always been notorious for their habit of clipping words, one of the strongest of spirits is now generally denominated by a word which is properly expressive of the ****** element water.
Monmouthshire is at present considered an English county, though certainly with little reason, for it not only stands on the western side of the Wye, but the names of almost all its parishes are Welsh, and many thousands of its population still speak the Welsh language. It is called in Welsh Sir, or Shire, Fynwy, and takes its name from the town Mynwy or Monmouth, which receives its own appellation from the river Mynwy or Minno, on which it stands.
There is a river of much the same name, not in Macedon but in the Peninsula, namely the Minho, which probably got its denomination from that race cognate to the Cumry, the Gael, who were the first colonisers of the Peninsula, and whose generic name yet stares us in the face and salutes our ears in the words Galicia and Portugal.
I left Newport at about ten o'clock on the 16th; the roads were very wet, there having been a deluge of rain during the night. The morning was a regular November one, dull and gloomy. Desirous of knowing whereabouts in these parts the Welsh language ceased, Iinterrogated several people whom I met. First spoke to Esther Williams. She told me she came from Pennow, some miles farther on, that she could speak Welsh, and that indeed all the people could for at least eight miles to the east of Newport. This latter assertion of hers was, however, anything but corroborated by a young woman, with a pitcher on her head, whom I shortly afterwards met, for she informed me that she could speak no Welsh, and that for one who could speak it, from where I was to the place where it ceased altogether, there were ten who could not. I believe the real fact is that about half the people for seven or eight miles to the east of Newport speak Welsh, more or less, as about half those whom I met and addressed in Welsh, answered me in that tongue.
Passed through Pennow or Penhow, a small village. The scenery in the neighbourhood of this place is highly interesting. To the north-west at some distance is Mynydd Turvey, a sharp pointed blue mountain. To the south-east, on the right, much nearer, are two beautiful green hills, the lowest prettily wooded, and having its top a fair white mansion called Penhow Castle, which belongs to a family of the name of Cave. Thence to Llanvaches, a pretty little village. When I was about the middle of this place I heard an odd sound, something like a note of recognition, which attracted my attention to an object very near to me, from which it seemed to proceed, and which was coming from the direction in which I was going. It was the figure seemingly of a female, wrapped in a coarse blue cloak, the feet bare and the legs bare also nearly up to the knee, both terribly splashed with the slush of the road.
The head was surmounted by a kind of hood, which just permitted me to see coarse red hair, a broad face, grey eyes, a snubbed nose, blubber lips and great white teeth - the eyes were staring intently at me. I stopped and stared too, and at last thought I recognised the features of the uncouth girl I had seen on the green near Chester with the Irish tinker Tourlough and his wife.
"Dear me!" said I, "did I not see you near Chester last summer?""To be sure ye did; and ye were going to pass me without a word of notice or kindness had I not given ye a bit of a hail.""Well," said I, "I beg your pardon. How is it all wid ye?""Quite well. How is it wid yere hanner?'
"Tolerably. Where do you come from?"
"From Chepstow, yere hanner."
"And where are you going to?"
"To Newport, yere hanner."
"And I come from Newport, and am going to Chepstow. Where's Tourlough and his wife?""At Cardiff, yere hanner; I shall join them again to-morrow.""Have you been long away from them?"
"About a week, yere hanner."
"And what have you been doing?"
"Selling my needles, yere hanner."
"Oh! you sell needles. Well, I am glad to have met you. Let me see. There's a nice little inn on the right: won't you come in and have some refreshment?""Thank yere hanner; I have no objection to take a glass wid an old friend.""Well, then, come in; you must be tired, and I shall be glad to have some conversation with you."We went into the inn - a little tidy place. On my calling, a respectable-looking old man made his appearance behind a bar.
After serving my companion with a glass of peppermint, which she said she preferred to anything else, and me with a glass of ale, both of which I paid for, he retired, and we sat down on two old chairs beneath a window in front of the bar.
"Well," said I, "I suppose you have Irish: here's slainte - ""Slainte yuit a shaoi," said the girl, tasting her peppermint.
"Well: how do you like it?'
"It's very nice indeed."