The Holyhead Road: The Mail-coach Road to Dublin. Vol. 2Harper, Charles G. (Charles George)
History
The Holyhead Road: The Mail-coach Road to Dublin. Vol. 2
Harper, Charles G. (Charles George)
A5 Road (England and Wales); England -- Description and travel; England -- Social life and customs
law and order extending to the uttermost verge of the land, they removed
their hands from their pistol holsters and spurred onward with renewed
assurance.
Llangefni, beyond Penmynydd, has grown into a town since those times,
with a big “Bull” hotel. At Gwyndû or Glanyrafon, half-way across the
Island, an old coachman, not so handy as most of his fellows, failed to
steer so neatly as he should between the great stones that in the good
old days lay loosely about the road; with the result that the jolt
knocked him off his box and he suffered a broken leg. Gwyndû in those
times was a noted inn. It is now, like many another, a farmhouse, and
all the historian can glean of its history is found in the fugitive
notes of century-old tourists. Thus, a Mr. Hucks, pedestrianising in
1795, says he dined at Gwyndû inn, and that the hostess, a “fine old
lady,” paid him and his companion “the utmost attention, and appeared
particularly solicitous; gave us her blessing at our departure, with a
thousand admonitions not to lose ourselves,” which of course they did.
Rain and storm beset them, and they gladly quitted the “inauspicious
island.”
There is little difficulty in losing one’s way on this old road, for
when maps fail there is not a soul here who can understand the English
tongue. One might talk Hindustani with equal chance of being understood.
Welsh is the only language spoken, for the bi-lingual Welshman is left
behind when crossing the Menai. Anglesey is the great stronghold of the
Welsh language, and in many of its villages it is impossible to find a
single person who understands a word of English. _Dim saesoneg_ is the
sole reply the traveller is likely to meet with on the road, or if by
chance, in some more civilised townlet, he makes himself understood, the
broken and grotesque English of the replies he obtains is likely to be
quite unintelligible. Even those who can command a little “Saxon” are
chary of using it, and not a few of those who gruffly grunt _Dim
saesoneg_ do so because they are shy of their attempts at an unfamiliar
tongue being laughed at.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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