The mountains here, upon either side, are covered with plantations, and the beautiful Dee winds gracefully in the centre of the valley, through delightful meadows, while corn fields wave upon the sloping banks, and everything presents to the eye the appearance of freshness and fertility, cheerfulness and content. At the bridge near Llandderfel, a small village, which is first observed upon the opposite bank of the Dee, a splendid view presents itself. The river here is broad, shallow, and deep, by turns, and looking up or down the vale, its meandering sportiveness charms the eye. At the extremity of the valley is a lofty mountain, planted to the summit, which seems so closely to envelop it, as to prevent all egress. To stand upon this bridge at sunset, and listen to the whistle of the sheep boy as he trudges merrily along the road, the song of the husbandman, or the joyous laugh of the milkmaids—sounds that float upon the silent air for miles, at such an hour,—the twittering of the birds, before they hide their heads beneath their wings to seek repose—the low craik of the rail, amidst the corn—and sweeter than all, the music of the river, discharging liquid sounds from its transparent bosom,—creates a sensation which we are at a loss how to express. Excess of pleasure becomes painful; and, overpowered with delight, nature asserts her influence, and we experience the luxury of tears!—at least, I did, and I pity from my soul the man who is unfortunately incapable of a similar feeling.
Passing through the little village of Llanver, and crossing a stream over the bridge close by the lodge of Mr. Price of Rhewlas, I at length arrived at the Bull’s Head in the town, to which house I had been recommended by a passing traveller; and, tired with my day’s exertions, called for a tea-dinner and slippers.
BALA.
Both these luxuries were furnished me by the fair hands of Martha Jones, the landlady’s unmarried sister, a lively, black-eyed, pretty lass, who, in being a spinster, proves that the Bala lads are greatly deficient in taste, or that Martha has set her cap at something better than is to be found in Bala.
Two gentlemen were seated in the room when I entered, each of whom were discussing the merits of a glass of brandy and water. One of them (a young man who I afterwards discovered was a captain’s clerk in the East India service, upon leave,) was making himself particularly entertaining to his companion, by relating a number of anecdotes about a relative, a clergyman, whose residence is somewhere in the neighbourhood.
“Ha! ha! ha! you remember the time when the dinner was given at —; well, the old boy as usual, had got too much grog aboard, and without a rudder, began to crowd sail for the stable—my eyes! how he did traverse! but at last, a gale took his topsail right aback, and capsising him into the kennel, he began to roar out for help. ‘What’s the matter?’ cried twenty voices at a time. ‘Oh help! help me up,’ cried the old boy, ‘for I’m the Lord’s servant!’ ‘Ay, ay,’ cried one, ‘and you’re like all the rest of ’em, want a good deal of looking after.’ Ha, ha, ha!”
This anecdote, required another glass of brandy and water to wash it down; which being brought, this irreverend humorist rehearsed a number of other circumstances concerning his eccentric relative, amongst which was a story of his ascending the pulpit, to preach a sermon, “and kneeling down,” said he, “he placed his hand upon the cushion, in the attitude of prayer, closed his port holes, and fell into a—sound sleep! The congregation waited—and waited—until their patience was quite exhausted, and one after another began to heave anchor. The clerk, at last, ventured to awaken his pastor just in time for him to see the last of his parishioners leaving the church.”
I was truly sorry to find, upon inquiry, that this was but too true a tale of the old man, whose years are many, and who must be well aware, that a very short time can elapse, before he will become a tenant of the grave.
Wearied with the conversation, I rang for my bed candle, and retired to rest.