CHAPTER X.TREHOWEL ONCE MORE.
We could still hear the festive strains of “The Girl I Left BehindMe,”—every road was full of soldiers—guards and guarded, some on theirway to Haverfordwest, some to Milford, some to Carmarthen, some, for thepresent, only as far as Fishguard. Their number (sixteen hundred,without stragglers who dropped in later) taxed the resources of thisthinly inhabited country to the uttermost, both as regarded the food andthe housing of their prisoners. Vast relief was felt when the greaternumber of them were shipped off to the place from whence they came.
“Where are you going, master?” asked Ann George, coming up to Mr.Mortimer as he was moving away, having now beheld the end of this strangescene of the bloodless surrender of sixteen hundred men to a veryinsignificant force; surely one of the strangest sights ever witnessed onthe shores of this happy island.
Nancy had taken no part in the action of her aunt Jemima; she was not thewoman to jeer a fallen foe, so she had remained quietly by the cart tillall was over, then had turned to her master.
“Where are you going, master?” asked the faithful servant.
“Back to my own house; for I suppose it is mine again now,” said he, witha sort of groan as he thought of the manner in which the old home hadbeen desecrated.
“I’ll come too,” said Nancy, “the place is bound to be topsy-turvy, sir,and a gentleman can’t do aught to straighten it. I’ll come too.”
“Better not, Nancy, there are a lot of drunken vagabonds about still—toodrunk to know they’ve capitulated. And some of the officers who wereafraid to trust to the white flag and our word are at Trehowel still.”
However, Nancy was not to be put off so; she would go. She had been inservice for some years at Trehowel and she considered that the kitchenbelonged to her, and it went to her heart to think of the damage done.She could have no peace till she could begin to repair it, and to setthings once more in order to receive home the bride, as now the strangelypostponed wedding would surely take place.
Davy Jones went too—I suppose because Nancy did; they seemed greatfriends now, though previously the young woman had been in the habit ofgiving him the cold shoulder, I imagine because of his habit ofsmuggling; but I did not take much interest in the matter as a boy, notunderstanding the fair sex; indeed, even in after years I doubt if I everquite succeeded in fathoming their method of reasoning. However, it isquite certain that as Nancy permitted it Davy was quite content to gowherever she did, and he gave her and me also a seat in his cart. I wenttoo, for I thought that if there was anything to be seen I might as wellsee it; and I had heard that General Tate had gone back there after thesurrender—on parole. I had some curiosity to see him again, and Ithought it due to myself to witness the end of this affair, of which Ihad chanced to see the very beginning.
As we went up the steep hill from Goodwick, we were joined by a party ofthe Fishguard Fencibles, sent to look after the scattered inebriates, andto take the swords and words of the retiring French officers. When wegot to Brestgarn we encountered the grinning face of Llewellyn, aboutwhom Nancy and I had had many an uneasy thought. He told us that hiscaptors had not ill-treated him beyond making him work for them, thatthey had kept a sharp eye on him for a day and two nights and then he hadmanaged to escape. He had hidden for a while, but as soon as possiblehad returned to look after his master’s goods. Llewellyn was a veryordinary looking man with unpolished—even uncouth manners, but it struckme that he had a stronger sense of duty than is usual.
[Picture: Trehowel: General Tate’s Headquarters]
A few steps further brought us to Trehowel. Out rushed all the dogs,barking, jumping, tail-wagging—absolutely wild with delight at therecovery of their own master. A grey-haired gentleman came forward andaddressed Mr. Mortimer with much courtesy—
“Sir, the dogs know you. I presume you are the master here?”
“I was so once. Down, Gelert! Quiet, Corgé!”
The officer then introduced himself to Mr. Mortimer as General Tate. Hewent on to say that he had understood that the Welsh people were ripe forrevolt and that they might march throughout Wales and even a good dealfurther with wooden swords. That it had been a great disappointment tohim to find this was not the case, that it had also been a source ofannoyance to him to be deserted by his ships, but that the mostunpleasant sensation he had ever experienced had been the failing ofheart he had felt as his foot touched Welsh soil.
I listened with all my ears to this interesting discourse, which happilyI was able to understand, for General Tate being an Irishman spokeEnglish perfectly.
Our attention was diverted by a cry—a cry of surprise which broke fromNancy with a suddenness which startled all of us. We all turned hastilyround and beheld the girl standing as if petrified, with her armstretched out and her hand pointing towards a man who stood a few yardsfrom her—apparently one of the stragglers among the French soldiers, forhe was clothed in the same way as the majority of them—a Britishsoldier’s uniform which had been dyed a rusty brown. The man lookeddumb-foundered but Nancy found her tongue.
“So it is you, James Bowen, who have betrayed your own people tostrangers. Uch a fi, traitor; I could strike you where you stand!”
“Shall I do it for you, Nancy?” suggested Davy, ready to hobble out ofthe cart.
“No, he is not worth it. Let him go to gaol with his friends,” saidNancy, scornfully.
James Bowen looked utterly bewildered; he had evidently been drinkingheavily and had not even heard of the surrender; had he done so he wouldhardly have come back to Trehowel, but would have made off into theinterior. But Nancy’s contempt roused him somewhat.
“It was your own fault,” he said, sullenly, “you drove me away from here,you drove me to the bad.”
“And I suppose I drove you to steal a horse and then to break out ofgaol, and to run off to France, and to fetch back foreigners here—showingthem the entrance to Carreg Gwastad Creek! I helped in that too,perhaps?”
“You needn’t pretend to be so particular, you’ve taken up with a smuggleryourself,” growled James.
Nancy’s face flamed, but she took a step nearer to Davy and placed herhand in his defiantly.
“It is truth indeed, and I’m going to marry him too, for if he is asmuggler, he is an honest boy and isn’t a traitor. I’d have thoughtnothing of the horse or the gaol—but to betray your own people tostrangers—let me get out of the sight of you. ‘Cursed for ever andthroughout all ages be the traitor.’”
And with this vigorous denunciation of a crime so utterly hateful to theWelsh people, that they even abhor giving evidence in a court of justice,Nancy turned her back on the traitor at once and for ever, and hastilyentering her domain at Trehowel, proceeded to restore the silver spoonsto their own place.
The kindly dusk hid much of the damage that had been done; and afterthree days’ absence, at the same hour as when she had quitted it, NancyGeorge was restored to the sovereignty of the kitchen at Trehowel.
And so ended in gladness of heart and rejoicing, Friday the 24th day ofFebruary, 1797; and so ended in pain and tribulation to themselves thethree days’ invasion of the French at Fishguard.
The Fishguard Invasion by the French in 1797 Page 11
