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Updated: June 4, 2025
He was a great poet as I have been told, and is the glory of our land but he was unfortunate; I have read his life in Welsh and part of his letters; and in doing so have shed tears." "Has his house any particular name?" said I. "It is called sometimes Ty Gronwy," said the miller; "but more frequently Tafarn Goch."
Passing the child who stared at me, I walked to the back part of the house, which seemed to be a long mud cottage. After examining the back part I went in front, where I saw an aged woman with several children, one of whom was the child I had first seen. She smiled and asked me what I wanted. I said that I had come to see the house of Gronwy.
Leave Pentraeth Tranquil Scene The Knoll The Miller and his Wife Poetry of Gronwy Kind Offer Church of Llanfair No English Confusion of Ideas The Gronwy Notable Little Girl The Sycamore Leaf Home from California.
"Frequently," said the miller; "I have frequently heard a sound of him. He was born close by in a house yonder," pointing to the south. "Oh yes, gentleman," said a nice-looking woman, who holding a little child by the hand was come to the house-door, and was eagerly listening, "we have frequently heard speak of Gronwy Owen; there is much talk of him in these parts."
He died in the year 1810, at the age of 71, shortly after the death of his wife, who seems to have been a faithful, loving partner. By her side he was buried in the earth of the graveyard of the White Church, near Denbigh. There can be little doubt that the souls of both will be accepted on the great day when, as Gronwy Owen says:
If Wales has its Snowdon and Cader Idris, the Highlands have their Hill of the Water Dogs, and that of the Swarthy Swine: If Wales has a history, so have the Highlands not indeed so remarkable as that of Wales, but eventful enough: If Wales has had its heroes, its Glendower and Father Pryce, the Highlands have had their Evan Cameron and Ranald of Moydart; If Wales has had its romantic characters, its Griffith Ap Nicholas and Harry Morgan, the Highlands have had Rob Roy and that strange fellow Donald Macleod, the man of the broadsword, the leader of the Freacadan Dhu, who at Fontenoy caused, the Lord only knows, how many Frenchmen's heads to fly off their shoulders, who lived to the age of one hundred and seven, and at seventy-one performed gallant service on the Heights of Abraham: wrapped in whose plaid the dying Wolfe was carried from the hill of victory. If Wales has been a land of song, have not the Highlands also? If Wales can boast of Ab Gwilym and Gronwy, the Highlands can boast of Ossian and MacIntyre.
He subsequently sent him to Jesus College, Oxford, and supported him there whilst studying for the church. Whilst at Jesus, Gronwy distinguished himself as a Greek and Latin scholar, and gave such proofs of poetical talent in his native language, that he was looked upon by his countrymen of that Welsh college as the rising Bard of the age.
To say nothing of his being a great genius, he was eloquent, highly learned, modest, meek and of irreproachable morals, yet Gronwy Owen could obtain no Welsh curacy, nor could his friend Lewis Morris, though he exerted himself to the utmost, procure one for him.
It is because I am fond of poetry, poets and their haunts, that I am come to Anglesey. Anglesey does not abound in the beauties of nature, but there never was such a place for poets; you meet a poet, or the birth-place of a poet, everywhere." "Did your honour ever hear of Gronwy Owen?" said the old man.
"Then you are not of the Church?" said I. "I am not," said the miller; "I am a Methodist." "Can you read the poetry of Gronwy Owen?" said I. "I cannot," said the miller, "that is with any comfort; his poetry is in the ancient Welsh measures, which make poetry so difficult that few can understand it." "I can understand poetry in those measures," said I.
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