"At Morfa," said Shanw, "they have killed a cow and a sheep; and the
tongues, and fowls, and hams will fill every oven in the parish."
Betto sniffed and tossed her head scornfully. "They may well give them
bread and meat," she said, "for I don't see what else they have to give
them."
"What else, indeed," said Shanw, ready for the frequent fray. "They
won't have your hum-drum old church fregot, perhaps, but you come
and see, and hear Hughes Bangor, Price Merthyr, Jones Welshpool.
Nothing to give them, indeed! Why, Price Merthyr would send your old
red velvet cushion at church flying into smithireens in five minutes.
Haven't I heard him. He begins soft and low, like a cat purring on the
hearth, and then he gets louder and louder, till he ends like a roaring
lion. And our own preacher, Essec Powell, to begin and finish the
meeting. There's busy Valmai must be. Marged Hughes is there to help,
and she says--"
"Oh, be quiet," said Betto, "and go along with your Valmai, and your
Price Merthyr, and your hams, and lions, and things. Ach y fi! I
don't want to hear about such things in a clergyman's house."
"Valmai is a beauty, whatever," said Dye, the ploughboy. "I kiwked
at her over the hedge this morning when she was going to Caer Madoc;
she's as pretty as an angel. Have you ever seen her, Ser?"
"Valmai," said Cardo, prevaricating, "surely that is a new name in this
neighbourhood?"
"Yes, she is Essec Powell's niece come home from over the sea. She is
an orphan, and they say the old man is keeping her reading and reading
to him all day till she is fair tired, poor thing."
"Well, it is getting late," said Cardo, "good-night." And his rising
was the signal for them all to disperse, the men servants going to
their beds over the hay loft or stable; while the women, leaving their
wooden shoes at the bottom, followed each other with soft tread up the
creaking back stairs.
In the study the Vicar poured over his books, as he translated from
English into Welsh the passages which interested him most. He was,
like many of the inhabitants of the South Wales coast, a descendant of
the Flemings, who had long ago settled there, and who have left such
strong and enduring marks of their presence.
Their language has long given place to a sort of doggerel English, but
they have never learned to speak the language of the country except in
some of the straggling border villages.
Pembrokeshire, in particular, retains a complete separateness, so to
speak, from the rest of the country, and is often called "Little
England beyond Wales." Thus it was that the English language seemed
always more natural to Meurig Wynne than the Welsh. His sermons were
always thought out in that language, and then translated into the
vernacular, and this, perhaps, accounted in some degree for their
stiffness and want of living interest. His descent from the Flemings
had the disadvantage of drawing a line of distinction between him and
his parishioners, and thus added to his unpopularity. In spite of
this, Cardo was an immense favourite, his frank and genial
manner--inherited from his mother, who was thoroughly Welsh--making its
way easily to the warm Welsh hearts. There was a deep well of
tenderness, almost of pity, within him for his cold stern father, a
longing to break through his reserve, a hankering after the loving ways
of home life, which he missed though he had never known them. The cold
Fleming had very little part in Cardo's nature, and, with his
enthusiastic Welsh sympathies, he was wont to regret and disclaim his
connection with these ancient ancestors. His father's pedigree,
however, made it very plain that the Gwynnes of Brynderyn were
descended from Gwayn, a Flemish wool merchant who had settled there in
the reign of Henry I.--these settlers being protected and encouraged by
the English king, who found their peaceable, industrious habits a great
contrast to the turbulence and restlessness of the Welsh under their
foreign yoke. Time has done but little to soften the difference
between the Welsh and Flemish characters; they have never really
amalgamated, and to this day the descendants of the Flemings remain a
separate people in language, disposition, and appearance. In
Pembrokeshire, Gower, and Radnorshire, we find them still flourishing,
and for some distance along the coast northwards from Pembrokeshire
there are still families, and even whole hamlets, descended from them,
exhibiting traits of character and peculiarities of manner easily
discernible to an observant eye.