Faces and Places Part 9

"Me Parna.s.si deserta per ardua dulcis Raptat amor: juvat ire jugis, qua nulla priorum Castaliam molli divert.i.tur orbita clivo."

He had got in the centre of the second party, and with two before him, three behind, and a firm grip on the rope, he thought it safe to quote poetry.

We had eight days at Les Avants, of which this devoted to the ascent of the Roches was the only one the sun did not s.h.i.+ne upon. Whether on mountain or in valley, what time the sun was s.h.i.+ning it was delightfully warm. The narcissi were not yet out, but the fields were thick with their buds. How the place would look when their glory had burst forth on all the green Alps we could only imagine. But already everywhere bloomed the abundant marigolds, the hepaticae, the violets, the oxlips, the gentians, the primroses, and the forget-me-nots.

CHAPTER XII.

THE BATTLE OF MERTHYR.

"Well, sir, it is, as you say, a long time ago, but it was one of those things, look you, that a man meets with only once in his lifetime; and that being so, I might call it all to mind if I began slowly, and went on so as to keep my pipe alight to the end."

The speaker was a little, white-haired miner, who had been employed for fifty years by the Crawshays, of Cyfarthfa. We were sitting in the sanctum of his kitchen, the beautifully sanded floor of which smote me with remorse, for I had walked up from Merthyr, and was painfully conscious of two muddy footprints in the doorway.

Mrs. Morgan Griffiths, engaged upon the task of repairing Mr. Morgan Griffiths's hose, was seated in the middle of the room opposite the fireplace, having against the wall on either side of her a mahogany chest of drawers in resplendent state of polish. Mr. Morgan Griffiths sat beside the fireplace, with his pipe in one hand, the other resting affectionately upon another mahogany chest of drawers, also resplendently polished, standing in a recess at his left. The other side of the fireplace was occupied by the visitor, who, if he had turned his head a little to the right, might have seen his face reflected in the resplendent polish of a third mahogany chest of drawers, which somewhat inconveniently projected from the recess on the side of the fireplace.

Apparently, every well-to-do Welsh collier marks his status in society by the possession of a mahogany chest of drawers--if mounted in bra.s.s so much the better--which it is the pride and privilege of his wife to keep in a state of resplendent polish. Mr. Morgan Griffiths having had a long run of prosperity, and being of a frugal mind, had launched out largely in the purchase of mahogany chests of drawers, and his kitchen may be said to bristle with them. Each had its history, and it was to the patient listening to the repet.i.tion thereof, and to the expenditure of much appreciative criticism upon the varied styles of architecture displayed in their construction, that I completely won Mr. Morgan Griffiths's confidence, and overcame the cautious fencing with which he met my first inquiries touching his recollection of the memorable Merthyr Riots of 1831.

Perfect confidence reigned between us now, and I discovered that, though it is exceedingly hard to get a Welsh miner to talk freely to "a Saxon," when he opens his heart, and can look back for a period of fifty years, he is a very interesting companion.

"Yes, it's a long time ago," Mr. Morgan Griffiths repeated, in short, clipping intonation of the English language I will not attempt to reproduce, "but I've often talked it over with Mrs. Morgan Griffiths, and I can see it all now. Times was sore bad, and there was a deal of poverty about. Bread was dear, and iron was cheap--at least so Mr.

Crawshay said when we went up to ask him if he couldn't give us miners a trifle over the twelve or thirteen s.h.i.+llings a week we was earning. Everybody I knowed was in debt, and had been in debt for some time, and was getting further in every week. The shopkeepers up at Merthyr were getting uneasy about their money, and besides saying plump out to some of us that we couldn't have any more bread, or that, without money down on the nail, they served out all round summonses to what was called the Court of Requests. That was all very well, but as we couldn't get enough to eat from day to day upon our wages, it was pretty certain we couldn't go and pay up arrears. But the summonses came all the same, and it was a black look-out, I can tell you.

"One day, in the middle of the summer of this year 1831, there was a great meeting out on Waun-hill of all the miners of the country.

I can't rightly tell you the day of the month, but it was about three reeks after we rescued Thomas Llewellin, who had been sent to gaol on account of the row at Mr. Stephens's. We talked over our grievances together, and we made up our minds that we couldn't stand them any longer, though we meant no more mischief than our little Morgan who wasn't born then, me and Mrs. Morgan Griffiths not being married at the time, nor indeed set eyes on each other.

After the row opposite the Bush Inn, I went back to my work till such time as the pet.i.tion we had agreed to send to the King was written out by Owen Evans, and had come round to be signed by us all. But there was others not so peaceably minded, and a lot of them, meeting outside Merthyr, marched over the hill to Aberdare, where they went to Mr. Fothergill's and treated him pretty roughly. They ate up all the victuals in the house, and finished up all the beer, and then took a turn round the town collecting all the bread and cheese they could lay their hands on.

"A lad sent by Mr. Fothergill came running over the mountain with a letter to the magistrates, telling them what was happening in Aberdare, and pressing them to send off for the soldiers. It was said the magistrates did this pretty quick, but we had no railways or telegraphs then, and, ride as quick as you might, the soldiers could not get here before morning. The men from Aberdare were back here the same night, and marched straight for the Court of Requests, where they made poor Coffin, the clerk, give up every sc.r.a.p of book or paper he had about the Court's business, and they made a bonfire of them in the middle of the street. Then they came over here, and swore we should all turn out and join them.

"I remember it well. I was just coming up from the pit to go to my tea, when they came bursting over the tips, shouting and waving their sticks, and wearing in their hats little bits of burnt paper from the bonfire opposite Coffin's house. They were most of them drunk, but they were very friendly with us, and only wanted us to leave off work and go along with them. I was a young fellow then, up to any lark, and didn't make much fuss about it. So off we went to Dowlais, freed the men there, and we all had a good drink together.

"Next day the soldiers came in earnest: Scotchmen with petticoats on, and nasty-looking guns on their shoulders. I stood in a pa.s.sage whilst they marched down High Street from Cyfarthfa way, and didn't like the look of things at all. But close upon their heels came all our fellows, with bludgeons in their hands, and one of them, a man from Dowlais, had tied a red pocket-handkerchief on a stick and waved it over his head like a flag. The soldiers tramped steadily along till they got just above the Castle Inn, and there they halted, our men pressing on till they filled the open place below the Castle, as well as crowding the street behind the soldiers, who looked to me, as I hung on by the hands and legs to a lamp-post, just like a patch of red in the centre of a great ma.s.s of black. The soldiers had some bread and cheese and beer served out to them, but they were a long time getting it; for as soon as any one came out of the Castle with a loaf of bread and a piece of cheese some of our men s.n.a.t.c.hed it out of their hands and eat it, jeering at the soldiers and offering them bits.

"The soldiers never said a word or budged an inch till the Sheriff looked out of the window and asked the little fellow who was their commander-in-chief to draw them up on the pavement close before the hotel. The little fellow said something to them; and they turned round their guns so as the b.u.t.t ends were presented, and marched straight forward, as if our fellows were not on the pavement as thick as ants.

There was a little stoppage owing to the men not being able to clear off because of the crowd on the right and left. But the thick ends of the guns went steadily on with the bare-legged silent soldiers after them, and in a few strides the pavement was clear, and the soldiers were eating their bread and cheese with their faces to the crowd, and a tight right-handed grip on their muskets.

"The Sheriff got on a chair in the doorway of the Castle, with the soldiers well placed between him and us, and made a rigmaroling speech about law and order, and the King; but he said nothing about giving us more wages. Our master, Mr. Crawshay, was in the hotel too, and so was Mr. Guest, of Dowlais. Evan Jones, a man who had come over from Aberdare, got up on the shoulders of his mates and made a rattling speech all about our poor wages.

"'Law and order's all very well," he said, "but can you live on twelve s.h.i.+llings a week, Mr. Sheriff, and bring up a lot of little sheriffs?'

"Then we all shouted, and old Crawshay coming up to the doorway, I got down from the lamp-post, not wis.h.i.+ng to let him see me there, though I was only standing on my rights. But Mr. William had a voice which, something like an old file at work, could go through any crowd, and I heard him in his quiet, stern way, just as if he was talking to his men on a pay-day, say it was no use them crowding there with sticks and stones to talk to him about wages.

"'Go home, all of you' he said; 'go to bed; and when you are sober and in your senses, send us a deputation from each mine, and we'll see what can be done. But you won't be sensible for a fortnight after this mad acting; so let us say on this day fortnight you come with your deputation. Now go home, and don't make fools of yourselves any more.'

"We always listened to what Mr. Crawshay said, though he might be a little hard sometimes, and this made us waver. But just then Lewis-yr-Helwyr, shouting out in Welsh, 'We ask for more wages and they give us soldiers,' leaped at the throat of the Scotchman nearest to him, and s.n.a.t.c.hing the musket out of his hand, stuck the bayonet into him.

"In the twinkling of an eye the great black ma.s.s jumped upon the little red patch I told you of, and a fearful struggle began. The attack was so sudden, and the soldiers were at the moment so earnest with their bread and cheese, that nearly all the front rank men lost their muskets and pressed backward on their comrades behind. These levelled their pieces over the front rank's shoulders and fired straight into the thick of us.

The little officer had hardly given the word to fire when he was knocked down by a blow on the head, and a bayonet stuck into him, Our men pressed stoutly forward and, tumbling over the dead, fell upon the soldiers, who could move neither arm nor leg. The rear rank were, as fast as they could bustle, filing into the hotel, but not before they had managed to pa.s.s over their heads the little officer, who looked very sick, with the blood streaming down his face.

"At last the soldiers all got inside the doorway of the hotel, where they stood fast like a wedge, two kneeling down shoulder to shoulder with their bayonets fixed, three others firing over their heads, and others behind handing up loaded guns as fast as they fired. There was a lane speedily made amongst us in front of the doorway; but we had won the fight for all that, and cheered like mad when the soldiers turned tail.

"In a few minutes we shouted on the other side of our mouths. Without any notice the windows of every room in the hotel suddenly flew up, and out came from each the muzzles of a pair of muskets which flashed death down upon us at the rate of two men a minute; for as soon as the first couple of soldiers fired they retired and reloaded whilst two others took their places and blazed away. A rush was made to the back of the hotel, and we had got into the pa.s.sage, when the bearded faces of the Scotchmen showed through the smoke with which the house was filled, and the leaders of our lot were shoved back at the point of the bayonet. At the same time the windows at the back of the house flew up as they had done in the front, and the muzzles of the muskets peeped out as they had done before.

"This was getting rather hot for me. Men dead or dying were lying about everywhere around the Castle Inn. If I had been asked that night how many were killed, I think I should have said two hundred; but when the accounts came to be made up, it was found that not more than sixty or seventy were shot dead, though many more were wounded. I was neither hurt nor dead as yet, and I thought I had better go home if I wanted to keep so. I was below the Castle Inn at the time, and not caring to pa.s.s the windows with those deadly barrels peeping out I turned down High Street, and walked through the town. It was raining in torrents, and I never saw Merthyr look so wretched. Every shop was closed, and barricades placed across some of the windows of the private houses; and as I walked along, trying to look as if I hadn't been up at the Castle, I saw white faces peeping over window blinds.

"Merthyr was trembling in its shoes that day, I can tell you; and it came out afterwards that every tradesman in the place had got together all the bread, cheese, meat, pies, and beer he could put his hands on, ready to throw out to the mob if they came knocking at his door.

"It was late at night when I got home, having gone a long way round, and I saw nothing more of our fellows; but I heard that the wounded soldiers had been taken up to Penydarren House, which was fortified by their comrades, and held all night against our men. Somehow the word got pa.s.sed round that we were to meet the next morning in a quiet place on the Brecon road, and when I got there I found our gallant fellows in great force. I, having neither sword nor gun, was told off with a lot of others to get up on the heights that bank the turnpike road near Coedycymmer, and roll down big stones, so that the fresh troops expected up from Brecon could not pa.s.s. This we did with a will; and when, in the afternoon, a lot of cavalry came up, we made it so hot for them, what with the stones rolled down from above and the musketry that came rattling up from our men who had guns, that they cleared off pretty smartly.

"This cheered us greatly, and another lot of ours, who had been posted on the Swansea road to intercept troops coming up in that direction, soon after joined us, with news of a great victory, by which they had routed the soldiers and taken their swords and muskets. We thought Merthyr was ours, though I'm not sure that we quite knew what we were going to do with it. When somebody shouted, 'Let's go to Merthyr!' we all shouted with him, and ran along the road, intending to take Penydarren House by storm. On the way we met Evan Price and some others, who had been to see Mr. Guest, and had been promised fine things for the men if they would give up their arms and go peaceably to work. Some jumped at this offer and sneaked off; but I had got a sabre now, and was in for death or glory. There was a good many in the same boat, and on we went towards Penydarren House, enough of us to eat it up, if the walls had been built of boiled potatoes instead of bricks.

"When we got in sight of the house, we found they were ready for us, and had got a lot of those soldiers drawn up in battle array. There was a deal of disputing amongst our leaders how the attack was to commence, and whilst they were chattering the men were dropping off in twos and threes, and in about an hour we were all gone, so nothing more was done that night.

"We lay quietly in our own homes on Sunday, and on Monday had a great meeting on Waun-hill again, colliers coming up by thousands to join up from all parts around. Early in the forenoon we began to move down towards Merthyr, everybody in high spirits, shouting, waving caps, and brandis.h.i.+ng swords. I saw one man get an awful backhanded cut on the cheek from an Aberdare collier, who was waving his sword about like a madman. n.o.body knew exactly where we were going, or what we were going to do; but when we got as far as Dowlais we were saved the trouble of deciding, for there was Mr. Guest, with a great army of soldiers drawn up across the road. Mr. Guest was as cool as myself, and rode forward to meet us as if we were the best friends in the world. He made a good speech, begging us to think of our wives and families, and go quietly home whilst we had the chance. Nothing came of that, however, and he pulled out a paper, and read an Act of Parliament, after which he turned to the commander-in chief of the soldiers, and said he had done all a magistrate could do, and the soldiers must do the rest.

"'Get ready,' shouts out the commander-in-chief; and the soldiers brought their muskets down with a flash like lightning, and a clash that made me feel uncomfortable, remembering what I had seen on the Friday.

"'Present!'

"There was ten murderous barrels looking straight at us. Another word, and we should have their contents amongst our clothes. It was an awful moment. I saw one black-bearded fellow had covered me as if I were a round target, and I said to myself as well as I could speak for my lips were like parched peas, 'Morgan Griffiths, twelve s.h.i.+llings a week and an allowance of coal is better than this'; and I'm not ashamed to own that I turned round and made my way through the crush of our men, which was getting less inconveniently pressing at the end nearest to the levelled barrels.

"There was, to tell the truth, a good deal of movement towards the rear amongst our men, and when Mr. Guest saw this he rode up again, and, standing right between the guns and the front rank of our men, said something which I could not rightly hear, and then our men began running off faster than ever, so that in about half an hour the soldiers had the road to themselves.

"That was not the last of the riots, but it is all I can tell you about them, for I had had quite enough of the business. There is something about the look of a row of muskets pointed at you, with ball inside the barrels and a steady finger on the triggers, which you don't care to see too often.

"Anyhow, I went home, and there heard tell of more fighting all that week on the Brecon road, of Merthyr in a state of panic, and at last of d.i.c.k Penderyn and Lewis the Huntsman being taken, and the whole of our men scattered about the country, and hunted as if they were rats.

"It was a bad business, sir--a very bad business, and I know no more than them as was shot down in the front of the Castle Hotel how it came about or what we meant to do. We were like a barrel of gunpowder that had been broken up and scattered about the road. A spark came, and poof!--we went off with a bang, and couldn't stop ourselves. Yes, this is a bad business, too, this strike of to-day, and there's a good many thousand men going about idle and hungry who were busy and full a month ago. I don't feel the bitterness of it myself so much, because I have a little store in the house. I had been saving it to buy another chest of drawers to stand there, opposite the door, but it's going out now in bread and meat, and I don't know whether I shall live to save up enough after the trouble's over, for I'm getting old now, look you."

CHAPTER XIII.

MOSQUITOES AND MONACO.

Up to the end of October, in ordinary seasons, the mosquitoes hold their own against all comers along the full length of the Riviera. For some unexplained reasons they clear out earlier from Genoa, though the atmosphere may be as unbearably close as at other points of the coast which mosquitoes have in most melancholy manner marked as their own.

Perhaps it is the noise of the city that scares them. The people live in the street as much as possible, and therein conduct their converse in highly-pitched notes. I have a strong suspicion that, like the habitation jointly rented by Messrs. Box and c.o.x, Genoa is tenanted by two distinct populations. One fills the place by day and throughout the evening up to about ten o'clock; after this hour it disappears, and there is a brief interval of rare repose. About 2 a.m. the c.o.x of this joint tenancy appears on the scene, and by four there is a full tide of bustle that murders sleep as effectually as was ever done by Macbeth.

I do not wonder that the mosquitoes (who, I have the best reason to know, are insects of the finest discrimination and the most exacting good taste) quit Genoa at the earliest possible moment.

The most delightful spot in or near the city is, to my mind, Campo Santo, the place where rich Genoese go when they die. The burial-ground is a large plot of ill-kept land, where weeds grow, and mean little crosses rear their heads. Round this run colonnades adorned with statuary, generally life-size, and frequently of striking merit.

Originally, it is presumable that the sculptor's art was invoked in order to perpetuate the memory of the dead. There are in some of the recesses, either in the form of medallions or busts, life-like representations of those who have gone before. But the fas.h.i.+on of the day is improving upon this. In the newest sculptures there is exceedingly little of the dead, and as much as possible of the living.

About half-way down the colonnade, entering from the right, there is a memorable group. A woman of middle age, portly presence and expansive dress, is discovered in the centre on her knees, with hands clasped.

The figure is life-size and every detail of adornment, from the heavy bracelet on her wrist to the fine lace of her collar, is wrought from the imperishable marble. On her face is an expression of profound grief, tempered by the consciousness that her large earrings have been done justice to. Standing at a respectful distance behind her is a youth with bared head drooped, and a tear delicately chiselled in the eye nearest to the spectator. He carries his hat in his hand, displays much s.h.i.+rt-cuff; and the bell-shaped cut of the trouser lying over his dainty boot makes his foot look preciously small.

These figures, both life-size, stand in an arched recess, and show to the best advantage. Just above the arch the more observant visitor will catch sight of a small medallion, modestly displaying, about half life-size, the face of an ordinary-looking man, who may have been a prosperous linendraper or a cheesefactor with whom the markets had gone well. This is presumably the deceased, and it is difficult to imagine anything more soothing to the feelings of his widow and son than to come here in the quiet evenings or peaceful mornings and contemplate their own life-sized figures so becomingly bereaved.