Among other items of news they told us that the men of St. David’s had rushed in a body to their cathedral, from the roof of which they had insisted on tearing off the lead; six blacksmiths had come forward, and had at once cast the said lead into bullets. Old and young, master and man, all had turned out. A dissenting minister was there (the Reverend Mr. Jones was his name), and after him marched all the men of his congregation. The news had come as he was preaching to them, and the worthy man had at once changed rhetoric for action. “Let us fight a good fight,” said he, and proceeded to put his words to the proof and himself at the head of his men. A choleric major rode about the lanes near St. Dogmael’s collecting recruits. He met a Mr. Jones (another one): “Come along to fight the French,” was Major James’ greeting. But Mr. Jones had business which called him elsewhere. “By the Lord Harry,” said the Major, drawing his sword, “if you don’t come this minute I’ll slice your head off like a turnip.” The fear of the French was an unknown quantity, but the fear of the Major was very well known indeed, and Mr. Jones went. We mingled exultantly with the throng of our people, and presently our eyes were gladdened by the sight of a gallant body of men—all well equipped and well mounted—the Castle Martin Yeomanry. These were joined by the Cardiganshire Militia, the Fencible Infantry of Colonel Knox, and some seamen and artillery, the whole under the command of Lord Cawdor. We had got into Fishguard by this time, and we hung about the door of the “Royal Oak,” where a council of war was being held by our officers—namely, Lord Milford, Lord Cawdor, Colonel Knox, Colonel Colby, Colonel Ackland, Colonel Dan Vaughan, Major James, and the Governor of Fishguard Fort, Colonel George Vaughan. The troops formed in the turnpike road just outside the town, and here we three had to separate, for Davy wished to accompany the troops, Ann to join her Aunt Jemima, and I to get something to eat at my father’s house, for I had only had hasty snatches hitherto, and I had a growing boy’s appetite. My parent was so much astonished at the course of events that he was not even surprised to see me when I walked, as bold as brass, into his shop; and never even asked if I had taken French leave of my master. But before satisfying my natural filial affection I (together with Davy) escorted Nancy to the abode of her relative, who, however, was not at home. As we turned to go, Nancy having taken leave of Davy in an affectionate manner, because, as she said, he had appeared just in the nick of time, we espied that stalwart female, Jemima Nicholas, coming along the road from Goodwick surrounded by twelve Frenchmen, {129} whom she had had the courage and address to bring—probably allured by false promises—all the way from Llanunda; assisted by the military, she now conducted them into the guard-house at Fishguard.