CHAPTER XXIV
THE PYLGAIN OF DYFED
Like an explosion of fire-damp in a coal-mine--sudden, far-reaching,deadly--so was the convulsion in South Wales.
All was quiet to-day. On the morrow the whole land from the Bay ofCardigan to Morganwg, was in flames. The rising had been prepared forwith the utmost caution.
The last to anticipate it were the soldiery under Rogier, who werequartered in Caio. Notwithstanding imperative orders from the bishop atLlawhaden to return to him, they had remained where they were, and hadcontinued to conduct themselves in the same lawless manner as before.They scoffed at the tameness with which their insolence was endured.
"They are Cynwyl conies--des lapins!" they said. "Say 'Whist!' andnothing more is seen of them than their white tails as they scuttle totheir burrows."
For centuries this had been an oasis of peace, unlapped by the waves ofwar. The very faculty of resistance was taken out of these men, whocould handle a plow or brandish a shepherd's crook, but were frightenedat the chime of a bowstring and the flash of a pike.
Yet, secretly, arms were being brought into the valley, and weredistributed from farm to farm and from cot to cot; and the men whosewives and daughters had been dishonored, whose savings had been carriedoff, who had themselves been beaten and insulted, whose relatives hadbeen hung as felons, were gripping the swords and handling thelances--eager for the signal that should set them free to fall on theirtormentors. And that signal came at last.
On Christmas Eve, from the top of Pen-y-ddinas shot up a tongue offlame. At once from every mountain-side answered flashes of fire. Therewas light before every house, however small. The great basin of Caio waslike a reversed dome of heaven studded with stars.
"What is the meaning of this?" asked Rogier, issuing from the habitationhe had appropriated to himself, and looking round in amazement.
"It is the pylgain," replied his man, Pont d'Arche, who knew somethingof Welsh.
"Pylgain! What is that?"
"The coming in of Christmas. They salute it with lights and carols andprayers and dances."
"Methinks I can hear sounds."
"Aye! they are coming to church."
"With torches--there are many."
"They all come."
Then a man came rushing up the hill; he was breathless. On reachingwhere stood Rogier, he gasped: "They come--a thousand men and allarmed."
"It is a river of fire."
Along the road could be seen a waving line of light, and from all sides,down the mountains ran cascades of light as well.
"There is not a man is not armed, and the women each bear a torch; theycome with them--to see revenge done on us."
Then up came Cadell. He was trembling.
"Rogier," he said, "this is no pylgain for us--the whole country isstirring. The whole people is under arms, and swearing to have ourblood."
"We will show these conies of Cynwyl that we are not afraid of them."
"They are no conies now, but lions. Can you stand against a thousandmen? And--this is not all, I warrant. The whole of the Towy Valley, andthat of the Teify, all Dyfed, maybe all Wales, is up to-night. Can youmake your way through?"
Rogier uttered a curse.
"By the paunch of the Bastard. I relish not running before thoseconies."
"Then tarry--and they will hang you beside Cynwyl's bell, where youslung their kinsmen."
Rogier's face became mottled with mingled rage and fear.
Meanwhile his men had rallied around them, running from the severalhouses they were lodging in; a panic had seized them. Some, withoutawaiting orders, were saddling their horses.
"Hark!" shouted Rogier. "What is that?"
The river of light had become a river of song. The thunder of the voicesof men and the clear tones of the women combined. And from every rill oflight that descended from the heights to swell the advancing current,came the strain as well.
"They have come caroling," said Rogier disdainfully.
"Carol, call you this?" exclaimed Cadell. "It is the war-song of thesons of David. 'Let God arise, and let His enemies be scattered: letthem also that hate Him, flee before Him. Like as the smoke vanisheth,so shalt Thou drive them away: and like as wax melteth at the fire, solet the ungodly perish----'"
"I will hear no more," said Rogier. "Mount! And Heaven grant us a daywhen we may revenge this."
"I will go too," said Cadell. "Here I dare not remain."
Before the advancing river of men arrived at the crossing of the Annell,the entire band of the Normans had fled--not one was left.
Then up the ascent came the procession.
First went the staff of Cynwyl, not now in its gold and gem-encrustedshrine, but removed from it--a plain, rough, ashen stick, borne aloft byMorgan ap Seyssult, its hereditary guardian, and behind him cameMeredith, with his two attendant bards, all with their harps, strikingthem as the multitude intoned the battle-song that for five hundredyears had not sounded within the sanctuary of David. The women boretorches aloft, the men marched four in breast, all armed and with sternfaces, and Pabo was there--and led them.
The Archpriest, on reaching the church, mounted a block of stone, anddismissed the women. Let them return to their homes. A panic had fallenon those who had molested them, and they had fled. The work was butbegun, and the men alone could carry it on to the end.
Rogier and his men did not draw rein till they had reached the YstradTowy, the broad valley through which flowed the drainage of theBrecknock Mountains. And there they saw that on all sides beacons werekindled; in every hamlet resounded the noise of arms. At Llandeilo theythrew themselves into Dynevor, which had but a slender garrison. Butthere they would not stay; and, avoiding such places as were centers ofgathering to the roused natives, they made for Carmarthen.
The castle there was deemed impregnable. It was held mainly by Welshmercenaries in the service of Gerald of Windsor. Rogier mistrusted them;he would not remain there, for he heard that Griffith ap Rhys, at thehead of large bodies of insurgents, was marching upon Carmarthen.
Next day the brother of the bishop was again on the move with his men bydaybreak, and passed into the Cleddau Valley, making for Llawhaden.
In the meantime the men of Caio were on the march. None were left behindsave the very old and the very young and the women.
They marched four abreast, with the staff of Cynwyl borne before them.Now the vanguard thundered the battle-song of David, "Cyfoded Duw,gwasgarer ei elynion: affoeed ei gaseion o'i flaen ef."
They sang, then ceased, and the rear-guard took up the chant: "When thouwentest forth before the people; when thou wentest through thewilderness, the earth shook and the heavens dropped." They sang on andceased. Thereupon again the vanguard took up the strain, "Kings withtheir armies did flee, and were discomfited; and they of the householddivided the spoil."
Thus chanting alternately, they marched through the passage among themountains threaded by the Sarn Helen, and before the people went Pabo,wearing the bracelet of Maximus, the Roman Emperor, who took to wifethat Helen who had made the road, and who was of the royal British raceof Cunedda.
So they marched on--following the same course as that by which theNorman cavalcade had preceded them. And this was the Pylgain in Dyfedin the year 1115.
The host came out between the portals of the hills at Llanwrda, andturned about and descended the Ystrad Towy, by the right bank of theriver; and the daybreak of Christmas saw them opposite Llangadock. Thegray light spread from behind the mighty ridge of Trichrug, and revealedthe great fortified, lonely camp of Carn Goch towering up, with itsmighty walls of stone and the huge cairn that occupied the highest pointwithin the enclosure.
They halted for a while, but for a while only, and then thrust along inthe same order, and with the same resolution, intoning the same chant ontheir way to Llandeilo. There they tarried for the night, and everyhouse was opened to them, and on every hearth there was a girdle-cakefor them.
On the morrow the whole body
was again on the march. Meanwhile, thegarrison had fled from Dynevor to Careg Cennen, and the men of YstradTowy were camped against that fortress, from which, on the news of therevolt, Gerald had escaped to Carmarthen.
By the time the men of Caio were within sight of this latter place, itwas in flames.
And tidings came from Cardigan. The people there had with one acclaimdeclared that they would have Griffith as their prince, and werebesieging Strongbow's castle of Blaen-Porth.
But the men of Caio did not tarry at Carmarthen to assist in the takingof the castle. Only there did Pabo surrender the bracelet of Maxen tothe Prince, with the message from his sister.
They pushed on their way.
Whither were they bound? Slowly, steadily, resolvedly on the track ofthose men who had outraced them to their place of retreat and defense,the bishop's Castle of Llawhaden.
Now when Bernard heard that all Caio was on the march, and came onunswervingly towards where he was behind strong walls and defended bymighty towers, then his heart failed him. He bade Rogier hold out, butfor himself he mounted his mule, rode to Tenby Castle; nor rested there,but took ship and crossed the mouth of the Severn estuary to Bristol,whence he hasted to London, to lay the tidings before the King. And withhim went Cadell, the Chaplain.
It was evening when the host of Caio reached Llawhaden, and Rogier fromthe walls heard the chant of the war-psalm. "God shall wound the headof his enemies: and the hairy scalp of such a one as goeth on still inhis wickedness ... that thy foot may be dipped in the blood of thineenemies: and that the tongue of thy dogs may be red through the same."
He shuddered--a premonition of evil.
Pabo would have dissuaded his men from an immediate assault; but theywere not weary, they were eager for the fray. They had cut down and werebearing fagots of wood, and carried huge bundles of fern. Some fagotswent into the moat, others were heaped against the gates. The episcopalbarns were broken into, and all the straw brought forth.
Then flame was applied, and the draught carried the fire with a roarwithin.
By break of day Llawhaden Castle was in the hands of the men of Caio.They chased its garrison from every wall of defense; they were askedfor, they gave no quarter. Those who had so long tyrannized over themlay in the galleries, slain with the sword, or thrust through withspears. Only Rogier, hung by the neck, dangled from a beam thrustthrough an upper window.