OGO AP SHENKIN.
In the reign of our seventh Henry, when the civil wars which desolated the hearths of rich and poor, ceased to afflict the nation, and peace and plenty once more spread their smiling influence throughout the land, there lived near this village a man, called Jordan ap Jordan, a wood-cutter and goatherd, whose time was occupied between watching his goats upon the mountains, and felling trees in the forest. He was a short square built man, with a squint eye and a blue nose. He was thought to be half distracted between the desires of a miser, and the vices of a drunkard; for, whenever one passion predominated, he raved like a bedlamite at the other, and he who shunned him in the morning for his sordid qualities would fairly take to his heels at full speed, to avoid him in the evening when he was in his cups.
Jordan was, therefore, generally shunned by his neighbours, and would often repair to the bridge of the Caldron, to meditate upon future wealth, or to roar out his bacchanalian stanzas to his unwearied companion the waterfall. He was fond of a thundering accompaniment, and here he was gratified to his heart’s fondest wish. The superstitious peasantry were often alarmed, as they passed the bridge after twilight, to their several homes, to hear his unearthly raving mingled with the sound of the cataracts, and to see his ungainly form perched upon the parapet of the bridge, which they often mistook for an evil spirit. One morning, before daybreak, as he was gradually recovering from his evening’s excess, the grasping fiend of avarice seized upon his heart, as was often the case, when he reflected on his extravagance on the foregoing night; and, after venting many bitter curses upon all earthly spirits (alias drams) prayed most devoutly to all spirits, celestial, for a plentiful accession of worldly pelf, to add to his store, which he had concealed in the hollow of a certain tree; when “a still small voice,” which even the roar of the torrent permitted him to hear, whispered to him that Ogo ap Shenkin might contain “something worth seeking for.”
This cave, as I have before mentioned, was the retreat of the celebrated Shenkin; and, although the bold outlaw had long ceased to commit his depredations, the place of his resort was held in dread by the superstitious peasantry, who firmly believed that his spirit was to be seen every night, prowling about the gap, to terrify and torment all poor souls who ventured to wander near this haunted ground.
The woodman pricked up his ears at the sound of the voice, and, after turning the thing over and over again in his mind, and weighing the pros and cons in the scale of his bewildered judgment, he determined to venture on the experiment. “For,” thought he, “though ghosts walk by night, I never heard of their venturing out by day;” and hastening home he replenished his bottle, which he thought it prudent to take with him in case of frights and sights, which an application to it might enable him to endure with fortitude.
It was yet grey morning, and the mist still lay in the valley, as Jordan ap Jordan advanced his blue light in the direction of Shenkin’s cave; one eye peering in the direction of the hollow, and the other traversing the craggy mountain tops and down the hills’ sides, like a vagrant scout watching the enemy’s motions or looking out for squalls.
The heavy fog was now fast rising on the mountain’s side, obscuring the mouth of the cave so completely that Jordan was very often compelled to apply his mouth to the flask, in order to rectify the effects of the unwholesome dew, which he inhaled by gallons.
Thicker and thicker came on the fog, and lighter and lighter became the flask; until what with one thing, and the other, he scarce knew whether his track lay to the right, or to the left; and, but for the consolation of the spirit, he would infallibly have been routed by terror; but as it was, he only acknowledged to being overcome with liquor, and his reluctance to confess so much was only conquered on finding himself stretched half way into the cave, without the power of resuming his standing position. While he lay thus sprawling and unable to rise, gazing with “lack lustre eye” into the gloomy recess, he fancied he beheld some lights flickering at a distance, dancing up and down, and running to and fro! His hair stood on end with fright, his eyes almost started from his head with curiosity, and the liquor evaporating, as his terror became stronger, he miraculously recovered the use of his legs, which he instantly endeavoured to make use of in escaping from the cavern. But, to his utter consternation, he discovered that the entrance was closed up, and an appalling noise of a long drawn, ba-a-a-a-a! made him look once more in the direction of the lights.
He now fancied he saw only two, but they grew larger and larger, till they resembled two moons. And presently he heard a buzzing sound, as if a thousand bees were about his ears; and on a sudden the cave became lighted up with a thousand torches, for it seemed to have expanded to an incredible magnitude; and, in the centre, upon a huge oaken chest well bound with iron clasps, stood a goat of prodigious size, with a beard which seemed to be of ten times the magnitude commonly given by artists to Aaron the high priest. Full, shaggy, and venerable did it appear. His horns, like mighty corkscrews, issued from his forehead, terminating in two portentous points; and his eyes,—for they were his eyes, which Jordan’s disconcerted vision had mistaken for moons—were fixed upon a clasped book, the leaves of which he was deliberately turning over with his right fore hoof, as if he cared no more for Jordan ap Jordan’s proximity, than if he had been one of his own species.
The woodman being by this time perfectly sober, felt his desire of wealth grow stronger than fear; and he could not help thinking that the oaken chest contained the treasure he so much coveted.
“You’re perfectly right,” said the goat, answering to the thought of Jordan, without taking his eyes off the book he was perusing; “and you shall see the treasure.” Then touching a spring with his fore paw, the side of the chest flew open, and Jordan saw more gold than he ever thought the world contained, and every piece stamped with the king’s head. Jordan, with his natural impulse, rushed forward to grasp some of the shining coin! but, the goat presented his horns to him, saying, “If you touch any of this coin before it is properly prepared, instant death will be your fate,” and then, with a loud ba-a-a-a-a, he summoned a number of grave elders about him, to whom he gave suitable directions, and these presently kindled some dry wood upon a slab of rock, and put an iron pot with a spout to it over the flames, while Jordan wondered to see them use their cloven feet so cleverly in adjusting matters as occasion required. These preparations being completed, they took from the chest large bags full of gold, and emptied them into the iron pot, one after the other, until it was completely full; and then commenced dancing round it on their hinder legs, ba-a-a-a-ing most inharmoniously. This ceremony continued some time, when lo! the coin being fusible, melted, and became a burning liquid.
“Now,” said the monster goat to Jordan-ap-Jordan, “I will make thee a man of gold! Thou dost thirst for gold and shalt have more than thou desirest. Swallow thou this pot of boiling metal, and fear not. The heat will have no effect upon thee—so drink—drink and be wealthy!”
Jordan looked upon the molten gold as it sparkled and became agitated in the vessel, and, stooping to take a closer inspection, was surprised to find it destitute of heat, though still retaining its liquidity! Having ascertained this fact, he made no hesitation in obeying the goat’s commands, and took huge draughts of the precious fluid, which, like warm jelly, flowed smoothly and agreeably into his capacious maw. No sooner had he drained the measure, than the venerable goat leaped from the chest, and presenting his terrific horns, cried, “Now Jordan, fly for your life;” at the same time, making a charge upon his rear, which completely ejected him from the cavern at full speed. No sooner had he passed the cavern’s mouth, than he tumbled with violence to the ground; and at the same moment a huge mass of rock fell from the summit of the hill, and effectually blocked up the entrance of Ogo ap Shenkin.
It was mid-day when Jordan quitted the cave, and the sun shone in all its brilliant beauty. Filled with wealth and wonder, he hastened towards his cottage, calculating all the way the prodigious extent of his riches.
“I must take care of myself now,” said Jordan, “for, if by any chance, my secret should be discovered, I shall share the fate of the goose that laid the golden eggs.”
This reflection made him uneasy; and as he was frequently hailed, in sport or ridicule, by the shepherd lads from the mountains, he quickened his speed to avoid observation.
For ten years after this, Jordan was never seen except at night, and then it was only for a moment and upon the bridge. He was like a phantom there—and gone in an instant. No one saw him in his former occupation; his cottage was deserted, and he lived, no one knew where.
The gradual decay of his wardrobe was noticed, as at various times he was recognised by those to whom he was formerly known; until, at length, he was entirely destitute of every article of clothing; and a village curate was, one bleak and wintry night, roused from his bed, by the moaning of some human creature, apparently at the threshold of his door. He let him in, pale, emaciated, naked, and ghost like. He placed him, shivering, on his bed; and the dying creature glared wildly about the apartment, as he exclaimed in terror,
“Take care they don’t steal me.”
“Who?” inquired the good curate.
“The world—all the world, are looking for me,” replied the wretch; “but I shall escape them yet. You are a good man; you would not rob the dead, would you?”
“Heaven forbid,” he replied.
“Ay, ay, you fear Heaven—you fear its curses here, and its vengeance hereafter. I think I may trust you, as I have not above an hour to live. Look at me! don’t you see what they hunt me for? I’m all gold!—a man of gold!—robbers seek for me, to buy them food!—Spendthrifts hunt after me, to pay their debts!—Women grasp at me, to purchase jewels!—And kings lay snares for me, to gorge and fatten!”
He then related his wonderful adventure in Ogo ap Shenkin; and, as he concluded it, exclaimed,
“Bury me safely. You make take my little finger, that will pay all expenses, but don’t break up my body—to—to—to—” and the hypochondriac expired. [304]
There is no doubt that the vision of the goat and the chest of wealth, was a dream after one of Jordan’s drunken bouts, which produced so powerful an impression upon his mind, that it banished the few wits intoxication had left him.
CHAPTER XI.
A Mistake—Road to Llanrwst—Gwydir Castle—Llanrwst Shaking Bridge—Inn—The Theatre—Town Hall—Free Schools—Alms Houses—Rhaiadr y Parc Mawr—Llynn Giwionydd—Taliesin—Trefriw—Slate Quarries—Conway—The Suspension Bridge—The Castle—Local Customs—A Phrenologist—Excursion to the Ormes’ Head—The Smuggler—The Bump of Order.
“On a rock whose haughty brow
Frowned o’er old Conway’s foaming flood,
Rob’d in a sable garb of woe,
With haggard eye, the poet stood.”GRAY.
As I stood taking a farewell look of this beautiful village, with my knapsack on my back, and fishing rod in my hand, I was suddenly roused from my reverie, by a slap on the shoulder, and, on turning my head, I perceived an old woman, who held out to me some half dozen, much soiled, silver tea spoons, addressing me at the same time in Welsh: she might as well have spoken to me in the language of the ancient Chaldees. However, I took the spoons in my hands, and, after turning them over and over for some time, and endeavouring to elicit her meaning without success, I shook my head as gravely as my Lord Burleigh is made to do, in Sheridan’s entertainment of the Critic, and returned them to their venerable owner. Disappointment made the wrinkles of her aged forehead deeper than usual, and I was turning to resume my journey, when a flash of intelligence crossed her smoke-dried visage, and, making a sign for me to stop, she ran into her cottage, and presently returned, her face glowing like a hot coal, with an old umbrella in her hand, which she displayed fantastically in every way she thought likely to attract my notice, making use of sundry pantomimic gestures, none of which could I understand; and I began to think myself in company with some unhappy creature escaped from Bedlam. I again attempted to proceed with more earnestness than before, when, to my astonishment, a pair of grey, much worn, inexpressibles were held up to my eyes, while the gesticulations of the old woman became stronger and stronger, and I at length discovered, that I had been mistaken for a travelling pedlar by the old beldam, who wished to exchange the articles she produced for something with which she imagined my knapsack was furnished!
Within half a mile from the town of Llanrwst is