Twm Shôn Catti falls in love, and preserves his mistress from the
squire’s clutches. The adventures of Farmer Cadwgan’s she ass. Twm
escapes from the squire’s.
THE squire and his man Twm returning one evening from grousing on the
hills, on their descent towards the valleys had to pass by a small farm
house, inhabited by a tenant of the former, who whispered Twm, “This is
the keep, the close, that contains better game, and can afford livelier
sport than any I have had to day.” Twm by his silence testified his
ignorance of his drift; but he resumed “what you don’t understand me?
haven’t you seen this farmer’s plump partridge of a daughter, the pretty
Gwenny Cadwgan, you young dog! I am determined to have that bird down,
some way or other, and you must help me.” Before Twm could reply, the
squire alighted and entered the cottage, at the door of which the farmer
and Gwenny Cadwgan, now grown a fine and blooming young woman, met and
welcomed their landlord. Some oaten bread, butter and cheese, and a cup
of homely ale was put before him; and while he ate, the pretty Gwenny
carried a portion to Twm, as he held the horses in the yard. While he
received the welcome food from the hand of the happy smiling girl, he
perceived the blush with which she gave it, and felt in his breast
certain sensations no less new than agreeable; thus, while each made
brief allusions to their days of childhood, a tear started in the eyes of
Twm, on seeing which the bright eyes of Gwenny were also suffused, till
the pearly drops over-ran her fresh ruddy cheeks. Her father then
calling her in, she suddenly shook hands with, and left our hero, who in
that hour became a captive to her charms, while the innocent girl herself
then felt the first shootings of a passion that daily grew, in sympathy
with his own.
The squire having finished his hasty lunch, he remarked to his tenant
Cadwgan in a hurried manner, that he should have company, the next day to
entertain at his house, and would thank him to let his lass come to the
hall to assist in attending on them. The farmer of course assented, in
words, for what small farmer would dare to deny his landlord such a
favor, though his heart might tremble with apprehension?
After the squire’s departure, Cadwgan became deeply distressed at the
predicament in which he found himself; to deny his landlord, was probably
to lose his farm; and to assent to his specious proposal, was to
endanger, if not utterly ruin the innocence of his darling daughter; as,
since the death of Mistress Graspacre, more than one of the neighbouring
damsels had to rue their intimacy with the squire. He passed a sleepless
night of bitter reflection, and saw daylight with an agonized spirit; but
the active mind imbued with honorable ideas, never fails in due season to
work its own relief. When Twm appeared next morning on horseback before
his door, with a pillion behind, for the reception of Gwenny, Cadwgan’s
terrors had vanished, his indignation at the premeditated injuries
intended him, was roused, and with braced nerves, and a firm heart, he
determined to deny the squire, and abide the consequences, be what they
might. But honest Nature was elsewhere at work in Cadwgan’s favor, and
unknown to him, had raised a friend to save him from those impending
perils, to the preservation both of his farm and his more precious
daughter, in the person of young Twm Shôn Catti.
On his journey home the last evening, while listening to his master’s
commands, and hearing his plans to inveigle the innocent Gwenny, Twm was
silent and meditative, mentally engaged in seeking some mode to preserve
her from his clutches; and at length heroically determined to save the
object of his admiration, even at the risk of losing his place and being
cast again on the wide world. He fed his fancy all night in dwelling on
her beauty, and the merit of preserving her, while he ardently enjoyed in
anticipation, the sacrifice he was about to make for her sake;
considering he should feel himself amply repaid if favored by the sweet
girl with a smile of approbation.
The morning came, and the squire gave the dreaded order, “Take the horse
Dragon, put a saddle and pillion on him, and bring the farmer’s lass
behind you here; tell Cadwgan not to expect her back to-night, but she
shall be brought home to-morrow.” Although Twm had been preparing
himself to give a doughty reply, and so commence the heroic character he
had modelled, yet when the moment came, his resolution failed him, and
the high-sounding words were not forthcoming; although the determination
to disobey remained as strong as ever. He rode off, through Tregaron,
and up the hills, in a melancholy mood, and without any settled purpose,
except that of straight-forward resistance to the orders he had received.
As he jogged on listlessly, he was suddenly roused from his reverie by
the braying of Cadwgan’s ass, that was grazing in a green lane which he
was about to enter. Such an animal being a rarity in that country, Twm,
with surprise, audibly muttered, “What the devil is that?” An old woman
at that moment opening the gate, which she civilly held for our hero to
pass into the lane which she was leaving, hearing his words, replied “It
is only Cadwgan’s _ass_.” Twm, whose thoughts ran entirely on the
farmer’s fair daughter, mistaking what she said, rejoined “Cadwgan’s
_lass_, did you say?” “You are very ready with your mocks and pranks,
Master Twm,” cried the old woman, slamming the gate against the buttocks
of the horse, “but you know very well that I said Cadwgan’s _ass_, and
not his _lass_, for I should be sorry to compare the good and pretty
Gwenny Cadwgan to such an ugly ill-voiced animal.” Twm laughed at his
mistake, made his apology, and rode on with revived spirits, having now,
from this very ludicrous circumstance, hatched the trick which he
intended to play off on his master.
The farmer’s mind being made up, as before observed, to refuse the
attendance of his daughter at his landlord’s, he was astonished to hear
Twm say, “Master Cadwgan, it was squire Graspacre’s order to me, that I
should saddle this horse, come to your house, and with your consent,
bring your _ass_ to him, on the pillion behind me.” Cadwgan stared
doubtfully, and Twm resumed “I hope you are too sensible to question or
look into the reasonableness of his whims, and will be so good as to
catch the strange animal, which I passed on the road, that we may tie him
across the pillion.” Cadwgan immediately concluded this to be a
providential mistake of the young man’s, that might have the most
desirable effect of relieving him from his apprehended troubles, and with
a ready presence of mind said, laughing, “To be sure it is no business of
mine to look into the oddness of his fancies, and he shall have my ass by
all means.” “Put an L to ass, and ’twill be _lass_,” said Twm seriously,
and with emphasis, “and such is the squire’s demand: but,” said the youth
with rising enthusiasm, “I would risk my life to save your daughter from
his snares, and will feign that I thought he said _ass_ instead of
_lass_, to be brought on the pillion.” Affected by this instance of
generosity, the farmer, as well as his lovely daughter, burst into tears,
thanking and blessing him; the former assuring him, that if in
consequence of this undertaking, he should be dismissed from his place,
_his_ roof, hearth, and table should be at his service.
While Cadwgan went out to catch the long-eared victim, Twm spent a
delicious half hour in the company of the fair Gwenny; and took that
opportunity to protest the ardor of his affection for her, and vowed that
when Fortune favored him with the means of getting a livelihood
independent of servitude, it would be the glory of his life to come and
ask her to be his own. The maiden heard him with streaming eyes and
passion-heaving breast, nor withdrew her cheek when her lover imprinted
on it affection’s first kiss; which she considered a sacred compact, the
seal of true love’s faithful covenant, never to be broken by the
intrusion of another.
Cadwgan at length returned, with his charge in a halter, grumbling and
abusing the beast at every step, in consequence of having been led a
pretty dance in chase of her; for, as if conscious of her coming
troubles, the moment he approached, she scampered off through the lane,
and right through the river, nor stopped until fairly fast in a bog, from
whence, with much trouble, the farmer roughly rescued her. With the
assistance of Twm and a neighbouring cottager, he now tied the animal’s
legs and lifted her into the seat of the pillion, a situation that her
struggling and resistance indicated to be more elevated than comfortable.
Twm, however, rode on slowly with his grotesque companion, without the
occurrence of an accident till they arrived at Tregaron; when the whole
town, men, women, and children, came out to enjoy the strange sight,
amidst roars and shouts of laughter. Whether the principal figure in the
group felt her dignity hurt, or her modesty offended, by such an
exhibition of her charms to the rude ribaldry of a mob, or whether
instigated by the rational motive of seeking ease by change of position,
it may not be an easy matter to determine, but certain it is, that
straining every nerve to liberate her captive limbs, she at length
succeeded, bursting the cord by which she was fastened to the pillion,
and tumbled in a heap to the ground, where, as if inspired by the genius
of perseverance she again struggled hard and soon shook off every remnant
of her hempen gyves; and in all the pride of high achievement and newly
acquired freedom, ran with all her might through the town, brandishing
her heels to right and left, whenever any person approached to impede her
career, till through a long narrow lane she reached the mountains. Here
she seemed to defy her numerous pursuers, but after a long chase which
lasted till dusk, she was surrounded, secured, and placed in her former
situation behind our hero on the pillion. At length he reached Graspacre
Hall, and made his approach at the back of the house. His stepfather
assisted both him and his companion to alight, leading the latter to the
stable, while Twm went to inform his master of his arrival, and the cause
of his long delay. A sudden terror arrested his steps awhile, he felt
himself in a peculiar dilemma, out of which he would have been right glad
to be delivered; but after his fit of apprehension had lasted a few
minutes, he plucked up his courage and his breeches at the same time,
exclaiming, “Well! he can’t kill me for it, a beating and a dismissal
will be the worst of it:” and thus self-comforted he entered the house.
The squire at this time was seated at the head of the table, pushing
about the bottle among his friends, principally formed of the
neighbouring gentry. In the course of the day he had sent several times
to know whether Twm had arrived. When little Pembroke at length went in
to announce his return, he desired he should be immediately sent in, and
Twm approached him with a burning cheek and an agitated heart. He
questioned the youngster in an under tone, asking _if he had brought
her_, and where he had been so long; to which Twm replied “Yes sir, I
have brought her, and much trouble I had with her, for she didn’t like to
come, thinking perhaps you meant her foul play; and once she escaped off
the pillion into the mountain.” “The devil she did!” cried the squire,
“but you caught her again?” “Oh yes sir, after losing much time, I have
brought her here at last, and she is now much tamer than at first.” “A
good lad Twm, a good lad, remind me to give you a guinea for this day’s
work; but what have you done with her? where is she?” “Why sir,” cried
Twm, “I tied her up to the manger and locked the stable door, to prevent
her escape.” “Shame Twm, shame, you ought not to have done that, for she
will think it was by my orders, and hate me perhaps for cruelty,” quoth
the squire, thinking all the time that Cadwgan’s _lass_, and not his ass,
was the subject of discussion. “No sir,” replies Twm, “but it is likely
though, that she will have an ill will towards me, as long as she lives,
for it.” “Well well,” said his master hastily, “take her from the stable
into the housekeeper’s room, and tell Margery to comfort her and give her
a glass of wine.” This was too much for Twm, and the smothered laugh
burst out in spite of his efforts; on which, his master, with a severe
brow, asked how he dared to laugh in his presence. “Indeed I could not
help it,” cried Twm, “but I don’t think she ever drank a glass of wine in
her life, and perhaps might not like it.” “Why that’s true; then tell
the butler to give out a bottle of the sweet home-made wines for her—let
it be a bottle of the cowslip wine, and say that I am very sorry for the
trouble and vexation she has had.” “Yes sir,” cried Twm, who made his
bow, and retired to the servant’s hall, where he made them acquainted
with the squire’s freak of having Farmer Cadwgan’s ass brought there on a
pillion behind him; and that it was his master’s orders that she was to
be brought into the housekeeper’s room, and a glass of wine given to her,
and that Margery was to make her comfortable.
They were all aware of their master’s occasional eccentricities, and that
he was as absolute in demanding obedience to his wildest whims as to the
most important matter in the world; and therefore, one and all, they
assisted in bringing the ass from the stable, and with much trouble
forcing her into the housekeeper’s room, where Glamorgan Margery spread a
small carpet for her to lie down on, and amidst the side-aching laughter
of the servants, offering her a glass of wine, which no persuasions could
induce her to accept.
The squire had given orders that no person was to answer the bell the
rest of the evening but Twm, and as it was now rang, in went our hero,
when he was asked “How is she now?” “Rather fatigued sir; she doesn’t
like wine, nor would she touch a drop of it.” “Well well,” said the
squire, “if she likes ale better, let her have some, with a cold fowl,
and something of the nicest in the house, though perhaps she would prefer
a cup of tea to anything. After she has taken the refreshment she
choses, tell Margery to put her to bed, in the green chamber, then lock
the door and bring me the key.” Here Twm’s risible faculties were again
oppressed to bursting, but a look from his master checked him.
Squire Graspacre now secretly anticipated the completion of his scheme,
anxiously waiting for the departure of his guests, who by their noisy
hilarity had long given notice that a very little more devotion to the
bottle would lay them all under the table. The wily squire however
desisted, before he had passed the boundary of what topers call _half and
half_, considering in the mean time, that his plan would best succeed by
not appearing before Gwenny Cadwgan till midnight, when all his household
would be asleep, and himself supposed to have retired to his room.
After some trouble, which was heightened by forced suppression of
laughter, that, however, broke out in spite of them, the servants got the
donkey up stairs, having previously fed her with bread, oaten cakes, and
oats, on her rejection of ale, wine, fowl, and tea, which to their own
great amusement they had successively offered in vain. Having brought
the poor animal into the green room, the best chamber in the house, and
kept only for particular guests, they placed her on the fine handsome
bed; the legs being already tied, they fastened them also to the bed
posts. Twm heightened the drollery of the scene by cutting two holes in
a night cap, drawing through them the ass’s ears, and slitting it at the
edge, he drew the cap down towards the eyes. Thus secured and accoutred,
they bade her good night, locked the door, and gave the key to their
master.
The guests at length dispersing, they all rode off as well as their
muddled heads would let them, to their respective homes; the squire, as
was his custom, locked the door himself, and saw every light in the house
out before he retired himself. At length he gained his chamber, and all
was still in Graspacre Hall. The amorous squire, chuckling at his luck
as he thought of the fair lass in the green chamber, grew too impatient
to wait till the proposed hour of midnight, and leaving his candle on his
own table, took off his shoes, and softly approached the casket, that he
deemed contained his precious jewel. Applying the key, he opened the
door very gently, and cautiously approaching the side of the bed, said in
a whisper towards the pillow, “Don’t be alarmed Gwenny, my dear, ’tis I,
the squire; fear nothing my girl, this will be the making of your fortune
my dear; and if you are as kind and loving as I could wish you to be, you
may soon become the second Mrs. Graspacre.” Hearing no reply, he
considered that according to the old adage, _silence gives consent_, and
proceeded to bend his face down to kiss the fair one, when a severe
bounce inflicted by a toss of his _incognita’s_ snout, knocked him
backwards off the bed to the floor, and set his nose a-bleeding. After
recovering himself a little, though labouring under the delusion that the
blow had been struck by the hand of a fair maiden, he exclaimed in an
under tone, “You little vixen, how dare you treat me in this manner?”
Proceeding more roughly again towards the bed, he was completely
horror-struck at the loud bray which the terrified ass sent forth; while
the poor animal, after a hard struggle, liberating her limbs, struck him
a severe blow on the forehead with her hoof, and getting off the bed,
made a terrible clatter with her shod feet over the boards of the room.
The unfortunate squire, although hitherto a loud decrier of superstition,
now felt a thrill of the utmost horror pervade him, while he deemed
himself ensnared by the enemy of man, as the punishment of his guilty
intentions; and after a clamorous outcry fell senseless on the floor.
The servants, having but concealed the lights, expecting some
_denouement_ of this sort, now rushed in, and saw their fallen master
ghastly pale, with streams of perspiration running over his forehead,
while his wildly-staring eyes alternately looked at and turned from the
monster of alarm. When he had sufficiently recovered to learn the real
stand of the affair, from little Pembroke, who had been made Twm’s
confidante in this matter—how that wight had brought the farmer’s ass
according to his orders behind him on the pillion, although he had been
in some doubt whether he had said Cadwgan’s _ass_, or Cadwgan’s _lass_,
the squire’s rage was boundless. Exasperated at the trick put upon him
by a mere youngster, and a menial, and scarcely less provoked at the
exposure he had made of himself before his servants, down he rushed into
the hall, and snatched a heavy horse-whip, unlocked the door, and made
his way towards our hero’s chamber over the lawndry; but when he reached
the bed-side, prepared to inflict the severest punishment that the thong
of a whip was capable of, how great was his mortification to find the
bird flown! his chagrin and resentment were anything but lessened, when
he took up a sheet of paper off the bed, on which in a large hand were
written these pretty lines.
If from _lass_ you take the letter L,
Then lass is ass if I have learnt to spell;
Yet ass and lass methinks are coupled ill,
Though human asses follow lasses still;
An ass were I too—one yclept a ninny—
If now I stay’d to claim my promised guinea.