Part 4 (1/2)
”Madam, your own dignity and delicacy ought to suggest to you that the less you interfere in these matters the more creditable it will be to your own common sense,” said the squire, in a tone which was unmistakable. ”I insist,” cried the imperious dame, ”that he be put in the stocks, and be ducked in the river.”
”Neither shall be done,” said he firmly, ”and from henceforward no person shall be annoyed or persecuted on that score, but everyone shall court as he or she pleases.” ”What!” cried the indignant lady, ”would you fill the country with b.a.s.t.a.r.ds!”
”No, madam,” was the reply, ”but with as happy a set of people as possible.”
Encouraged by the turn which affairs had taken, the Cardigans.h.i.+re maid now asked her master for her discharge; as her mistress, she said, had thrown a slur on her brewing abilities, which had almost broken her heart; ”for” said she, with a ludicrous whimper, ”she says my brewing is unfit for the drinking of Christian people, and hardly worthy of the hogs!-but,” cried the st.u.r.dy little wench, raising her voice to an accusatory pitch, and at the same time a tone of triumph, ”I came from Newcastle Emlyn, the country of good beer, the very home where the _Cwrw da_ of _Hen Gymru_ {50a} is bred and born, and I would rather die than be told that I can't brew!”
”Indeed, Cardy,” said the squire, with a smile, ”though your mistress may have been too severe in her censure, I must say that your two last brewings were unequal to the first.” ”A good reason why, sir; who can brew without malt and hops? who can make bricks without straw? I hear some of the great London brewers do without either malt or hops, but I wouldn't drink their brewings, I know; their brewings won't do for us at Newcastle Emlyn! and your wheat, {50b} sir, which has grown by being cut in the wet harvest, so as to be unfit for bread, is but a poor make-s.h.i.+ft for malt-it may do for the wish-wash paltry brewers' ale of Haverfordwest and Fishguard, or the Swansea folk, Merthyr blacks, and Cardiff boys, but our ploughboys would turn up their noses at such stuff at Newcastle Emlyn!
”d.a.m.n Newcastle Emlyn!” cried the squire, provoked by her continual reference to her native place. ”Master! master!” cried the girl, as if rebuking him for the greatest impiety conceivable, ”don't d.a.m.n Newcastle Emlyn; I had rather you should knock me down than d.a.m.n Newcastle Emlyn!
it is the country of decent people and good home-brewed ale,-the country where”-
”You brewed good ale from the grown wheat the first time,” said the squire, not deeming it necessary to notice her observations.
”Good! was it?” retorts the girl, struggling between respect for her master and contempt for his taste in the matter of malt drink; ”good was it! I tell you what, master, you are a good master, and I have nothing to say against mistress, for it would not be decent, but you never tasted beer like ours at Newcastle Emlyn! the real hearty _cwrw da_! which I could make you to-morrow, if you would give me good malt and hops, and let it stand long enough untapped.”
”But Cardy, there must be a sound reason for your two last brewings being inferior to the first. You could brew a well-flavoured, palatable beer, but you don't now, although you have the same ingredients given you.”
”The last was better, a good deal, than the other. The first would have turned the devil's stomach, had he known what was in it.”
”Explain yourself,” said the squire, surprised. ”I will, sir, if I were to be hanged for it,” cried the girl in a tone of confidence; ”it seems that rats love beer as well as any christian folks, and get drunk and die in drink, as a warning to all sober-minded rats; but that is neither here nor there, and I hate to tell a rigmarole story; the long and the short of it is, that when I came to wash out the barrels after the first brewing, I found three rats in one, and two in the other.”
”You found what?” asked the squire and his lady at the same time.
”I found three rats, sir, that had burst themselves with drinking beer, and afterwards fell in and were drowned-they were then putrid, and it was that, it seems, that made the ale so palatable; there were no dead animals in the last brewing, so that of course it wasn't so 'palatable'
and well-flavoured as the other. But had I known your mind I might have killed a couple of cats, or put you in a bushel of lively c.o.c.kroaches.”
This explanation excited a t.i.tter among the girls, and a loud laugh from the squire, while the lady evinced the shock which her delicacy had sustained, by making wry faces, and snuffing violently at her smelling-bottle to avoid fainting.
The squire good-humouredly addressed the girl,-”now, Cardy, you are perfectly right in the praise you bestow on your own country ale, and I promise you shall have the best of malt and hops for your next attempt, when I expect it to be equal to the best _cwrw da_ of Newcastle Emlyn-and, do you hear? we shall dispense with either rats or cats in it for the future.”
This amicable settlement of differences set every one in good humour, except the haughty mistress, who, embittered with her double defeat, retired in gloom, while her husband went to give audience to Jack of Sheer Gar.
CHAPTER VIII.
”THE manners and customs” attendant on a Welsh Wedding. The Bidding.
The Gwahoddwr. The Ystavell. Pwrs a Gwregys. Pwython. In which our hero and his friend Watt play rather important parts.
Carmarthen Jack had not been long waiting for his master, before little Pembroke full of glee, ran to inform him that the embargo had been taken for ever off bed courts.h.i.+p; and that he was now free whether guilty or not. This happy news affected him so well that he met his master with comparative ease; and after some struggles with his native bashfulness, an important secret came out-that he was going to be married to Catty the schoolmistress; and wished to know whether he should be retained in the squire's service after that event.
Now this was a circ.u.mstance exactly to the squire's taste; as a Welsh wedding portrayed many national features in the character of the peasantry, that pleased him; and, as he was generally a donor on these occasions, his vanity was flattered by being looked up to as their patron. He of course acquiesced in his servant's request, and after a little jocular and rough rallying, proposed that the _Bidding_ should be immediately commenced.
A _Bidding_ was another of the excellent customs peculiar to the Welsh, but of late years confined exclusively to the lower cla.s.ses, which the squire so much admired, and considered worthy of imitation, he said, throughout the world. It signifies a general and particular invitation to all the friends of the bride and bridegroom elect, to meet them at the houses of their respective parents, or any other place appointed. Any strangers who choose to attend are also made welcome. It is an understood thing that every person who comes, contributes a small sum towards making a purse for the young pair to begin the world with. They have a claim on those persons whose weddings they had themselves attended; and at these times their parents and friends also make their claims in their favour on all whom they may have at any time befriended in a similar manner. These donations are always registered, and considered as debts, to be repaid, on the occurrence of weddings only; but there are many contributors, especially the masters and mistresses of the parties, that of course require no repayment. These returns being made only by small instalments, and only at the weddings of their donors, are easily accomplished; and the benefit derived from this custom is great, where the parties are respected.
A novel feature, to those who have been unaccustomed to the Welsh wedding, is the Gwahoddwr or Bidder, who goes from house to house, with his staff of office-a white wand embellished with ribbons. His hat, and often the breast of his coat, is similarly decorated. Thus attired, he enters each house with suitable ”pride of place,” amidst the smiles of the old people, and giggling of the young ones; and taking his stand in the centre of the house, and striking his wand on the floor to enforce silence, announces the wedding which is to take place, sometimes in rhyme, but more frequently in a set speech of prose.
The banns were immediately put in, and every preparation made for the wedding. Watt the mole-catcher, as the greatest wag in the parish, was appointed by the squire to the enviable office of _Gwahoddwr_. The following homely lines, from a correct and liberal translation of those written for the purpose of giving Watt's oratory full scope on this occasion. The Rev. John David Rhys, a young poetical clergyman, at this time a visitor with Squire Gras.p.a.cre, was the author; and though they do not betoken the ”unapproachable of Parna.s.sus,” they yet suited the purpose for which they were penned.
List to the Bidder!-a health to all Who dwell in this house, both great and small; Prosperity's comforts ever attend The Bride and Bridegroom's generous friend.