Wild Wales | Page 9

place
one leaves the great working district behind; I became for a
considerable time a yawning, listless Englishman, without pride,
enthusiasm, or feeling of any kind, from which state I was suddenly
roused by the sight of ruined edifices on the tops of hills. They were
remains of castles built by Norman Barons. Here, perhaps, the reader

will expect from me a burst of Norman enthusiasm: if so he will be
mistaken; I have no Norman enthusiasm, and hate and abominate the
name of Norman, for I have always associated that name with the
deflowering of helpless Englishwomen, the plundering of English
homesteads, and the tearing out of poor Englishmen's eyes. The sight of
those edifices, now in ruins, but which were once the strongholds of
plunder, violence, and lust, made me almost ashamed of being an
Englishman, for they brought to my mind the indignities to which poor
English blood has been subjected. I sat silent and melancholy, till
looking from the window I caught sight of a long line of hills, which I
guessed to be the Welsh hills, as indeed they proved, which sight
causing me to remember that I was bound for Wales, the land of the
bard, made me cast all gloomy thoughts aside and glow with all the
Welsh enthusiasm with which I glowed when I first started in the
direction of Wales.
On arriving at Chester, at which place we intended to spend two or
three days, we put up at an old-fashioned inn in Northgate Street, to
which we had been recommended; my wife and daughter ordered tea
and its accompaniments, and I ordered ale, and that which always
should accompany it, cheese. "The ale I shall find bad," said I; Chester
ale had a villainous character in the time of old Sion Tudor, who made
a first-rate englyn upon it, and it has scarcely improved since; "but I
shall have a treat in the cheese, Cheshire cheese has always been
reckoned excellent, and now that I am in the capital of the cheese
country, of course I shall have some of the very prime." Well, the tea,
loaf and butter made their appearance, and with them my cheese and
ale. To my horror the cheese had much the appearance of soap of the
commonest kind, which indeed I found it much resembled in taste, on
putting a small portion into my mouth. "Ah," said I, after I had opened
the window and ejected the half-masticated morsel into the street,
"those who wish to regale on good Cheshire cheese must not come to
Chester, no more than those who wish to drink first-rate coffee must go
to Mocha. I'll now see whether the ale is drinkable;" so I took a little of
the ale into my mouth, and instantly going to the window, spirted it out
after the cheese. "Of a surety," said I, "Chester ale must be of much the
same quality as it was in the time of Sion Tudor, who spoke of it to the

following effect:-
"Chester ale, Chester ale! I could ne'er get it down, 'Tis made of
ground-ivy, of dirt, and of bran, 'Tis as thick as a river below a huge
town! 'Tis not lap for a dog, far less drink for a man.'
Well! if I have been deceived in the cheese, I have at any rate not been
deceived in the ale, which I expected to find execrable. Patience! I shall
not fall into a passion, more especially as there are things I can fall
back upon. Wife! I will trouble you for a cup of tea. Henrietta! have the
kindness to cut me a slice of bread and butter."
Upon the whole we found ourselves very comfortable in the old-
fashioned inn, which was kept by a nice old-fashioned gentlewoman,
with the assistance of three servants, namely, a "boots" and two
strapping chambermaids, one of which was a Welsh girl, with whom I
soon scraped acquaintance, not, I assure the reader, for the sake of the
pretty Welsh eyes which she carried in her head, but for the sake of the
pretty Welsh tongue which she carried in her mouth, from which I
confess occasionally proceeded sounds which, however pretty, I was
quite unable to understand.

CHAPTER III
Chester - The Rows - Lewis Glyn Cothi - Tragedy of Mold - Native of
Antigua - Slavery and the Americans - The Tents - Saturday Night.
ON the morning after our arrival we went out together, and walked up
and down several streets; my wife and daughter, however, soon leaving
me to go into a shop, I strolled about by myself. Chester is an ancient
town with walls and gates, a prison called a castle, built on the site of
an ancient keep, an