“Upon this spot,” said my amusing companion, “a legend was repeated to me, which I thought rather amusing; and, as you say you are a collector of strange stories, I will relate it to you as we pass along, with as much accuracy as my memory will permit.”
THE DESERTED.
Mary Griffith was a tall, raw-boned, bouncing girl, whose skin had felt the influence of nineteen summers: with red ropy hair, which fell in mop-like luxuriance about her face and back, partially hiding two gooseberry eyes, that looked, or seemed to look, in opposite directions. Roger ap Morgan was a stout, sturdy, hard-working peasant: and once, while under the influence of his master’s strong harvest ale, bestowed on Mary such tender melting words, as had never before been addressed to her beauty, and which her unaccustomed ear drank with astonishment and delight. She greedily banqueted on the honey of his tongue, and in short was never so pleased in her life before.
It was remarked, that from this night Mary and Roger were more intimate than ever; and they were therefore looked upon as a couple shortly to be united in the bands of matrimony.
Mary’s charms, however, were not of a nature to be unappreciated by others; and Roger’s friends were exceedingly forward in praising her various perfections, and more especially the beauty of her eyes and face, and the silky softness of her auburn hair, three fibres of which were sufficient to have made an exceeding good twine of tolerable strength.
Roger bore all these bursts of admiration without the slightest tinge of jealousy, and even sometimes, with a good humoured laugh, joined in the jests of his companions. But there is such a thing as over fondness in adoring woman: and Roger began to discover, that if Mary would only love him half as much as she did, he might perhaps have a far greater liking for her than he had; but unfortunately Mary knew no measure in her love. She vowed he should marry her; Roger swore heartily he would not. At length, it became apparent that Mary had yielded up not only her heart but her honour, also, to the too insidious and fascinating Roger. His ingratitude, in refusing to keep his word, and make an honest woman of her, sank deep into her heart. She resolved, however, not to let him off so easily; and determined, if he persisted in denying his person, she would at least have some of his goods and chattels.
At this period, a number of baronial laws, although dormant, might still be enforced on occasion, and amongst them was one which furnished Mary with a promising prospect of recompense. It decreed, that in cases of seduction, the injured fair, on making application to the presiding magistrate, was entitled to remuneration by submitting to the following ordeal:—The tail of a three years old bull, the property of the seducer, being well shaven, greased and introduced through a wicker door, if the applicant could, by so treacherous a handle, detain the animal for a certain period with both hands, while two men goaded it to escape, it became hers, by right of conquest, in satisfaction for her lost virtue; and, in case of failure, she forfeited all further claim, and was rewarded for her attempt with so much of the grease and soap as remained in her hands.
Women know no medium in the master-passion: “Where most they love, there most they hate when slighted:”—and so with Molly. All nature seemed to change: the beautiful valley no longer heard the soft murmurings of Roger’s “love breathed vows;” the waters of the Ceriog flowed on without a rival sound; and Molly vowed vengeance amid their peaceful banks, where once she swore eternal love and constancy.
One morning after a long expostulation, with her inconstant, she summoned him before the magistrate of the district, and, accompanied by her friends, demanded the ordeal, which was the right, from time immemorial, of the victims of seduction and desertion. The magistrate, being a lover of old laws and customs, and also somewhat of a humorist, readily acceded to her wishes, and the following morning was appointed for the accomplishment of her vengeance, verifying the Welsh proverb—“Gnawd rhygas wedi rhysere.” Common is extreme hate after extreme fondness.
This was woful intelligence for Roger, whose farming stock consisted of an only cow, which was sentenced to be substituted for the bull, which the original act specified should be liable to confiscation. This cow was the chief source of his livelihood; her butter furnished him with the means of procuring clothes, and other necessaries, and the skimmed milk, a pleasant beverage to wash down his vegetable fare—for animal food was a stranger to the table of Roger, as it was indeed to almost all the peasantry of the country, except upon days of rejoicing, viz. marriages and funerals, when friends and relations clubbed together to furnish a sumptuous meal for the assembled guests. Still, however, he resolved to hazard this severe loss, rather than be encumbered with a wife, whose industry and affection were but a poor compensation for the defects of her person and conversation.