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Updated: May 13, 2025
What interesting associations has this church for me, both outside and in, but all connected with Huw; for what should I have known of Barbara, the Rose, and gallant Richard but for the poem on their affectionate union and untimely separation, the dialogue between the living and the dead, composed by humble Huw, the farmer's son of Ponty y Meibion?"
Her bards were as no other bards. Ab Gwilym was to him the superior of Chaucer, and Huw Morris "the greatest songster of the seventeenth century." It was, he confessed, a desire to put to practical use his knowledge of the Welsh tongue, "such as it was," that first gave him the idea of going to Wales.
He read the songs of the Nightingale of Ceiriog in the most distant part of Lloegr, when he was a brown-haired boy, and now that he is a grey-haired man he is come to say in this place that they frequently made his eyes overflow with tears of rapture. I then sat down in the chair, and commenced repeating verses of Huw Morus.
He said it was; and that it was over the mountains not far from Llan Sanfraid. I asked whether it was not called Pont y Meibion. He answered in the affirmative, and added that he had himself been there, and had sat in Huw Morris's stone chair which was still to be seen by the road's side. I told him that I hoped to visit the place in a few days.
He had forgotten that in official quarters he had been overlooked. He was in the land of Ab Gwilym and Gronwy Owen. At least they knew their own poets; and he could not help comparing the Welsh labouring man who knew Huw Morris, with his Suffolk brother who had never heard of Beowulf or Chaucer.
When the war broke out between Charles and his parliament, Huw espoused the part of the king, not as soldier, for he appears to have liked fighting little better than tanning or husbandry, but as a poet, and probably did the king more service in that capacity than he would if he had raised him a troop of horse, or a regiment of foot, for he wrote songs breathing loyalty to Charles, and fraught with pungent satire against his foes, which ran like wild- fire through Wales, and had a great influence on the minds of the people.
The quiet scene from the bridge, however, produced a sedative effect on my mind, and when I resumed my journey I had forgotten Huw, his verses, and all about Roundheads and Cavaliers." But it must be said that if the book is on the whole a cheerful one, its cheerfulness not only receives a foil from the rhetorical sublime, but is a little misted by a melancholy note here and there.
Have we not the words, not of Robin the Black, but Huw the Red to that effect? "'Brodir, gnawd ynddi prydydd; Heb ganu ni bu ni bydd. "That is: a hospitable country, in which a poet is a thing of course. It has never been and will never be without song." Here I became silent, and presently arrived at the side of a little dell or ravine, down which the road led, from east to west.
I soon reached the bottom of the hill, passed through Llansanfraid, and threading the vale of the Ceiriog at length found myself at Pont y Meibion in front of the house of Huw Morris, or rather of that which is built on the site of the dwelling of the poet.
From his being born on the banks of the brook Ceiriog, and from the flowing melody of his awen or muse, his countrymen were in the habit of calling him Eos Ceiriog, or the Ceiriog Nightingale. So John Jones and myself set off across the Berwyn to visit the birthplace of the great poet Huw Morris. We ascended the mountain by Allt Paddy.
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