“Who was it, your honour? why, the Duke of Newcastle.”
“Dear me!” said I; “how came you to know him?”
“Why, your honour, he lived at a place not far from here, called Hafod, and so—”
“Hafod!” said I; “I have often heard of Hafod and its library; but I thought it belonged to an old Welsh family called Johnes.”
“Well, so it did, your honour! but the family died away, and the estate was put up for sale, and purchased by the Duke, who built a fine house upon it, which he made his chief place of residence—the old family house, I must tell your honour, in which the library was had been destroyed by fire: well, he hadn’t been long settled there before he found me out and took wonderfully to me, discoursing with me and consulting me about his farming and improvements. Many is the pleasant chat and discourse I have had with his Grace for hours and hours together, for his Grace had not a bit of pride, at least he never showed any to me, though, perhaps, the reason of that was that we were both north-country people. Lord! I would have laid down my life for his Grace and have done anything but one which he once asked me to do: ‘Greaves,’ said the Duke to me one day, ‘I wish you would give up mining and become my steward.’ ‘Sorry I can’t oblige your Grace,’ said I; ‘but give up mining I cannot. I will at any time give your Grace all the advice I can about farming and such like, but give up mining I cannot: because why? I conceive mining to be the noblest business in the ‘versal world.’ Whereupon his Grace laughed, and said he dare say I was right, and never mentioned the subject again.”
“Was his Grace very fond of farming and improving?”
“O yes, your honour! like all the great gentry, especially the north-country gentry, his Grace was wonderfully fond of farming and improving—and a wonderful deal of good he did, reclaiming thousands of acres of land which was before good for nothing, and building capital farm-houses and offices for his tenants. His grand feat, however, was bringing the Durham bull into this country, which formed a capital cross with the Welsh cows. Pity that he wasn’t equally fortunate with the north-country sheep.”
“Did he try to introduce them into Wales?”
“Yes; but they didn’t answer, as I knew they wouldn’t. Says I to the Duke, ‘It won’t do, your Grace, to bring the north-country sheep here: because why? the hills are too wet and cold for their constitutions;’ but his Grace, who had sometimes a will of his own, persisted and brought the north-country sheep to these parts, and it turned out as I said: the sheep caught the disease and the wool parted and—”
“But,” said I, “you should have told him about the salve made of bran, butter and oil; you should have done that.”