the doom of the griffiths-第1章

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The　Doom　of　the　Griffiths


by　Elizabeth　Gaskell









CHAPTER　I。







I　have　always　been　much　interested　by　the　traditions　which　are

scattered　up　and　down　North　Wales　relating　to　Owen　Glendower　（Owain

Glendwr　is　the　national　spelling　of　the　name）；　and　I　fully　enter　into

the　feeling　which　makes　the　Welsh　peasant　still　look　upon　him　as　the

hero　of　his　country。　　There　was　great　joy　among　many　of　the

inhabitants　of　the　principality；　when　the　subject　of　the　Welsh　prize

poem　at　Oxford；　some　fifteen　or　sixteen　years　ago；　was　announced　to

be　〃Owain　Glendwr。〃　　It　was　the　most　proudly　national　subject　that

had　been　given　for　years。



Perhaps；　some　may　not　be　aware　that　this　redoubted　chieftain　is；　even

in　the　present　days　of　enlightenment；　as　famous　among　his　illiterate

countrymen　for　his　magical　powers　as　for　his　patriotism。　　He　says

himselfor　Shakespeare　says　it　for　him；　which　is　much　the　same　thing

…





'At　my　nativity

The　front　of　heaven　was　full　of　fiery　shapes

Of　burning　cressets　。　。　。

。　。　。　I　can　call　spirits　from　the　vasty　deep。'





And　few　among　the　lower　orders　in　the　principality　would　think　of

asking　Hotspur's　irreverent　question　in　reply。



Among　other　traditions　preserved　relative　to　this　part　of　the　Welsh

hero's　character；　is　the　old　family　prophecy　which　gives　title　to

this　tale。　　When　Sir　David　Gam；　〃as　black　a　traitor　as　if　he　had　been

born　in　Builth；〃　sought　to　murder　Owen　at　Machynlleth；　there　was　one

with　him　whose　name　Glendwr　little　dreamed　of　having　associated　with

his　enemies。　　Rhys　ap　Gryfydd；　his　〃old　familiar　friend；〃　his

relation；　his　more　than　brother；　had　consented　unto　his　blood。　　Sir

David　Gam　might　be　forgiven；　but　one　whom　he　had　loved；　and　who　had

betrayed　him；　could　never　be　forgiven。　　Glendwr　was　too　deeply　read

in　the　human　heart　to　kill　him。　　No；　he　let　him　live　on；　the　loathing

and　scorn　of　his　compatriots；　and　the　victim　of　bitter　remorse。　　The

mark　of　Cain　was　upon　him。



But　before　he　went　forthwhile　he　yet　stood　a　prisoner；　cowering

beneath　his　conscience　before　Owain　Glendwrthat　chieftain　passed　a

doom　upon　him　and　his　race：



〃I　doom　thee　to　live；　because　I　know　thou　wilt　pray　for　death。　　Thou

shalt　live　on　beyond　the　natural　term　of　the　life　of　man；　the　scorn

of　all　good　men。　　The　very　children　shall　point　to　thee　with　hissing

tongue；　and　say；　'There　goes　one　who　would　have　shed　a　brother's

blood！'　　For　I　loved　thee　more　than　a　brother；　oh　Rhys　ap　Gryfydd！

Thou　shalt　live　on　to　see　all　of　thy　house；　except　the　weakling　in

arms；　perish　by　the　sword。　　Thy　race　shall　be　accursed。　　Each

generation　shall　see　their　lands　melt　away　like　snow；　yea　their

wealth　shall　vanish；　though　they　may　labour　night　and　day　to　heap　up

gold。　　And　when　nine　generations　have　passed　from　the　face　of　the

earth；　thy　blood　shall　no　longer　flow　in　the　veins　of　any　human

being。　　In　those　days　the　last　male　of　thy　race　shall　avenge　me。　　The

son　shall　slay　the　father。〃



Such　was　the　traditionary　account　of　Owain　Glendwr's　speech　to　his

once…trusted　friend。　　And　it　was　declared　that　the　doom　had　been

fulfilled　in　all　things；　that　live　in　as　miserly　a　manner　as　they

would；　the　Griffiths　never　were　wealthy　and　prosperousindeed　that

their　worldly　stock　diminished　without　any　visible　cause。



But　the　lapse　of　many　years　had　almost　deadened　the　wonder…inspiring

power　of　the　whole　curse。　　It　was　only　brought　forth　from　the　hoards

of　Memory　when　some　untoward　event　happened　to　the　Griffiths　family；

and　in　the　eighth　generation　the　faith　in　the　prophecy　was　nearly

destroyed；　by　the　marriage　of　the　Griffiths　of　that　day；　to　a　Miss

Owen；　who；　unexpectedly；　by　the　death　of　a　brother；　became　an

heiressto　no　considerable　amount；　to　be　sure；　but　enough　to　make

the　prophecy　appear　reversed。　　The　heiress　and　her　husband　removed

from　his　small　patrimonial　estate　in　Merionethshire；　to　her　heritage

in　Caernarvonshire；　and　for　a　time　the　prophecy　lay　dormant。



If　you　go　from　Tremadoc　to　Criccaeth；　you　pass　by　the　parochial

church　of　Ynysynhanarn；　situated　in　a　boggy　valley　running　from　the

mountains；　which　shoulder　up　to　the　Rivals；　down　to　Cardigan　Bay。

This　tract　of　land　has　every　appearance　of　having　been　redeemed　at　no

distant　period　of　time　from　the　sea；　and　has　all　the　desolate

rankness　often　attendant　upon　such　marshes。　　But　the　valley　beyond；

similar　in　character；　had　yet　more　of　gloom　at　the　time　of　which　I

write。　　In　the　higher　part　there　were　large　plantations　of　firs；　set

too　closely　to　attain　any　size；　and　remaining　stunted　in　height　and

scrubby　in　appearance。　　Indeed；　many　of　the　smaller　and　more　weakly

had　died；　and　the　bark　had　fallen　down　on　the　brown　soil　neglected

and　unnoticed。　　These　trees　had　a　ghastly　appearance；　with　their

white　trunks；　seen　by　the　dim　light　which　struggled　through　the　thick

boughs　above。　　Nearer　to　the　sea；　the　valley　assumed　a　more　open；

though　hardly　a　more　cheerful　character；　it　looked　dark　and　overhung

by　sea…fog　through　the　greater　part　of　the　year；　and　even　a　farm…

house；　which　usually　imparts　something　of　cheerfulness　to　a

landscape；　failed　to　do　so　here。　　This　valley　formed　the　greater　part

of　the　estate　to　which　Owen　Griffiths　became　entitled　by　right　of　his

wife。　　In　the　higher　part　of　the　valley　was　situated　the　family

mansion；　or　rather　dwelling…house；　for　〃mansion〃　is　too　grand　a　word

to　apply　to　the　clumsy；　but　substantially…built　Bodowen。　　It　was

square　and　heavy…looking；　with　just　that　much　pretension　to　ornament

necessary　to　distinguish　it　from　the　mere　farm…house。



In　this　dwelling　Mrs。　Owen　Griffiths　bore　her　husband　two　sons

Llewellyn；　the　future　Squire；　and　Robert；　who　was　early　destined　for

the　Church。　　The　only　difference　in　their　situation；　up　to　the　time

when　Robert　was　entered　at　Jesus　College；　was；　that　the　elder　was

invariably　indulged　by　all　around　him；　while　Robert　was　thwarted　and

indulged　by　turns；　that　Llewellyn　never　learned　anything　from　the

poor　Welsh　parson；　who　was　nominally　his　private　tutor；　while

occasionally　Squire　Griffiths　made　a　great　point　of　enforcing

Robert's　diligence；　telling　him　that；　as　he　had　his　bread　to　earn；　he

must　pay　attention　to　his　learning。　　There　is　no　knowing　how　far　the

very　irregular　education　he　had　received　would　have　carried　Robert

through　his　college　examinations；　but；　luckily　for　him　in　this

respect；　before　such　a　trial　of　his　learning　came　round；　he　heard　of

the　death　of　his　elder　brother；　after　a　short　illness；　brought　on　by

a　hard　drinking…bout。　　Of　course；　Robert　was　summoned　home；　and　it

seemed　quite　as　much　of　course；　now　that　there　was　no　necessity　for

him　to　〃earn　his　bread　by　his　learning；〃　that　he　should　not　return　to

Oxford。　　So　the　half…educated；　but　not　unintelligent；　young　man

continued　at　home；　during　the　short　remainder　of　his　parent's

lifetime。



His　was　not　an　uncommon　character。　　In　general　he　was　mild；　indolent；

and　easily　managed；　but　once　thoroughly　roused；　his　passions　were

vehement　and　fearful。　　He　seemed；　indeed；　almost　afraid　of　himself；

and　in　common　hardly　dared　to　give　way　to　justifiable　angerso　much

did　he　dread　losing　his　self…control。　　Had　he　been　judiciously

educated；　he　would；　probably；　have　distinguished　himself　in　those

branches　of　literature　which　call　for　taste　and　imagination；　rather

than　any　exertion　of　reflection　or　judgment。　　As　it　was；　his　literary

taste　showed　itself　in　making　collections　of　Cambrian　antiquities　of

every　description；　till　his　stock　of　Welsh　MSS。　would　have　excited

the　envy　of　Dr。　Pugh　himself；　had　he　been　alive　at　the　time　of　which

I　write。



There　is　one　characteristic　of　Robert　Griffiths　which　I　have　omitted

to　note；　and　which　was　peculiar　among　his　class。　　He　was　no　hard

drinker；　whether　it　was　that　his　head　was　easily　affected；　or　that

his　partially…refined　taste　led　him　to　dislike　intoxication　and　its

attendant　circumstances；　I　cannot　say；　but　at　five…and…twenty　Robert

Griffiths　was　habitually　sobera　thing　so　rare　in　Llyn；　that　he　was

almost　shunned　as　a　churlish；　unsociable　being；　and　paused　much　of

his　time　in　solitude。



About　this　time；　he　had　to　appear　in　some　case　that　was　tried　at　the

Caernarvon　assizes；　and　while　there；　was　a　guest　at　the　house　of　his

agent；　a　shrewd；　sensible　Welsh　attorney；　with　one　daughter；　who　had

charms　enough　to　captivate　Robert　Griffiths。　　Though　he　remained　only

a　few　days　at　her　father's　house；　they　were　sufficient　to　decide　his

affections；　and　short　was　the　period　allowed　to　elapse　before　he

brought　home　a　mistress　to　Bodowen。　　The　new　Mrs。　Griffiths　was　a

gentle；　yielding　person；　full　of　love　toward　her　husband；　of　whom；

nevertheless；　she　stood　something　in　awe；　partly　arising　from　the

difference　in　their　ages；　partly　from　his　devoting　much　time　to

studies　of　which　she　could　understand　nothing。



She　soon　made　him　the　father　of　a　blooming　little　daughter；　called

Augharad　after　her　mother。　　Then　there　came　several　uneventful　years

in　the　household　of　Bodowen；　and　when　the　old　women　had　one　and　all

declared　that　the　cradle　would　not　rock　again；　Mrs。　Griffiths　bore

the　son　and　heir。　　His　birth　was　soon　followed　by　his　mother's　death：

she　had　been　ailing　and　low…spirited　during　her　pregnancy；　and　she

seemed　to　lack　the　buoyancy　of　body　and　mind　requisite　to　bring　her

round　after　her　time　of　trial。　　Her　husband；　who　loved　her　all　the

more　from　having　few　other　claims　on　his　affections；　was　deeply

grieved　by　her　early　death；　and　his　only　comforter　was　the　sweet

little　boy　whom　she　had　left　behind。　　That　part　of　the　squire's

character；　which　was　so　tender；　and　almost　feminine；　seemed　called

forth　by　the　helpless　situation　of　the　little　infant；　who　stretched

out　his　arms　to　his　father　with　the　same　earnest　cooing　that　happier

children　make　use　of　to　their　mother　alone。　　Augharad　was　almost

neglected；　while　the　little　Owen　was　king　of　the　house；　still　next　to

his　father；　none　tended　him　so　lovingly　as　his　sister。　　She　was　so

accustomed　to　give　way　to　him　that　it　was　no　longer　a　hardship。　　By

night　and　by　day　Owen　was　the　constant　companion　of　his　father；　and

increasing　years　seemed　only　to　confirm　the　custom。　　It　was　an

unnatural　life　for　the　child；　seeing　no　bright　little　faces　peering

into　his　own　（for　Augharad　was；　as　I　said　before；　five　or　six　years

older；　and　her　face；　poor　motherless　girl！　was　often　anything　but

bright）；　hearing　no　din　of　clear　ringing　voices；　but　day　after　day

sharing　the　otherwise　solitary　hours　of　his　father；　whether　in　the

dim　room；　surrounded　by　wizard…like　antiquities；　or　pattering　his

little　feet　to　keep　up　with　his　〃tada〃　in　his　mountain　rambles　or

shooting　excursions。　　When　the　pair　came　to　some　little　foaming

brook；　where　the　stepping…stones　were　far　and　wide；　the　father

carried　his　little　boy　across　with　the　tenderest　care；　when　the　lad

was　weary；　they　rested；　he