wide. The old bridge is seldom used now, because it is a pretty steep climb to go over it, and because it is so narrow that there is barely room for a single carriage to cross. PONT Y PRIDD. The Logan Stone, on a hill near by, derives its fame from having been so poised by nature that the touch of a child might set the heavy mass rocking. The summit of this hill was the burial-place of the ancient Welsh princes. The village called Quakers' Yard, a few miles further up the Taff, has not a Quaker in it; but there is a Quaker burial-place there, and persons of that sect are said to crave rest for their bones after death in this quiet yard. Merthyr Tydvil is the largest town in Wales, and the greatest iron and coal mining town in all Britain. It is the raison d'être of Cardiff. Were it not for Merthyr Tydvil, dusty and begrimed as it is, small use would there have been for building Cardiff docks. The chronicles relate that "until lately"-which I suppose to mean until within forty or fifty years past-this town was a "shapeless, unsightly cluster of wretched, dingy dwellings." To an American mind this suggests shanties. But the wretchedness of Merthyr (to which word Merthyr Tydvil is abbreviated in common usage) was of a very solid sort, after all. Its dwellings, however small and however poor, were all built of stone, with walls which still endure, and will when we are dust. Tydvil, or Tydfil, was a Christian princess of the fifth century, one of the numerous daughters of Brychan, Prince of Brecon, a contemporary of Hengist, and a of heathen Saxons and Irish Picts broke in upon them and slew the fair Tydvil, with three of her brothers. Since then the place has ever been known as Merthyr Tydvil, Merthyr in the Welsh tongue meaning martyr. The railway sets us down in Merthyr Tydvil at precisely the quaintest centre of the old town. The houses stand in the roadway in a fashion of the most reckless and rollicking eccentricity, some with their gables to the street, some with their sides, some with their corners, and some as if nothing would suit them but to plump themselves down in the middle of the highway. In fact, it is clear that in the day when these houses were built there were no streets at all in Merthyr, but the houses were planted on a common plain, with no reference to fronts or backs, or any guide but the builder's independent notion. There is an ancient atmosphere pervading the town, which leads us to expect a nearer approach to primitive manners and customs in the inhabitants than we have hitherto seen in Wales; nor are we wrong in this expectation. The Welsh population of Merthyr is gathered in large part from the mountains and wildish valleys hereabout, and includes some specimens of the race WELSH PEASANTS. famous preacher of the Gospel in his time. | who (as the phrase goes) have no English, One day when he was at prayer, surrounded with a very large number of specimens by his sons and daughters, all comely men who have but little and utter it brokenly. and women and ardent Christians, a band Those of the lower class who can read and almost all Welshmen, however poor into passages like streets, but without parand primitive, can read-generally read Welsh only; and in that respect, as indeed in most respects, are far in advance of Englishmen of the same state in life, who often can read nothing. To hear a poor and grimy Welshman, who looks as if he might not have a thought above bread and beer, talk about the poets and poetry of his native land, ancient and modern, is an experience which, when first encountered, gives the stranger quite a shock of agreeable surprise. It is high noon when we arrive in Merthyr, and we wander up the High Street looking for something in the shape of an tition walls, so that there is a free circulation of air, though the effect of partitions is produced by tall iron frames or racks which are thickly hung with shirts, or toys, or bonnets, or such wares, to the height of ten or twelve feet. The stalls are presided over in most cases by women, and contain almost every thing used in households, from toilet articles to tin-ware, as well as things eatable and drinkable. Spirituous drinks are purveyed in a beer-house built in one corner of the hall, and so inclosed as not to seem a part of the market. Strolling through the market, we observe that each stall is confined to a specific line eating-house, for we do not care to go to a hotel. Presently we come to the market; catables enough here, and though it is not customary for gentle-folk to eat in a market, as it is in New York (witness Dorlon's oyster-house in Fulton Market), we may do so as a matter of curiosity. We recall with satisfaction the fact that this is market-day, being Saturday; on any other day of the week (except Wednesday) we should find the market deserted. The market-house is a large hall covering some two acres of ground, with a lofty roof supported by iron beams, and several enormous doors which, being thrown open wide, flood the place with light. Light also enters through windows in the roof. The market is divided of goods. One stall is devoted to butter and cheese; the next to toys and fancy articles; its neighbor to vegetables and berries; others to boots and shoes, to crockeryware, to meat and fowls, etc.-a circumstance mentioned here only to indicate the changes of time in the customs of Welsh markets. A sketch made by an artist who visited the scene some twenty years ago shows that formerly these distinctions were not made. Women came into town from the country round about, and gathered themselves promiscuously at the tables, so that at the same stand (there were no stalls) you would see one woman with a huge cheese, which comprised her entire stock in trade, while next her would stand a wom THE PRIDE OF THE MARKET. an with half a dozen dressed fowls before her, and at her elbow an old woman would display a basket containing eggs and butter. Now, only the butter-man sells butter, and he also sells cheese. Only the butcher sells fowls, along with his legs of mutton and rounds of beef. The crockery stall is a large space, with its wares piled up on rows of shelves and on a long counter, while behind it prances up and down a mercurial Welshman, who utters himself in the two languages of the realm alternately, now shrieking in Welsh wild words, among which I catch the "Diolch i Dduw !" (thank God!) now crying in English that he can undersell any tradesman in the principality; then seizing three plates from his store, and holding one in each hand, he clatters the third between them with a dexterity that would provoke a juggler to jealousy. But women reign at most of the stalls. Here is a brisk Welsh woman selling lace caps to a crowd of elderly Welsh dames, who gravely remove their bonnets, untie their old caps, and try on the new with religions care; and a lively trade drives the cap-seller, for here every woman wears a cap of lace or muslin under her bonnet or her hat. There is a noticeable change, too, in the costumes of the market-women. The peasantry of Wales, like that of most lands, cling less strenuously to their distinctive costume in these latter days than they were wont to do. Formerly a farmer's wife or daughter who should make her appearance at market or church (or on any like occasion which calls for the donning of one's best) without wearing a tall hat, would have been deemed careless of her personal appearance or peculiar in her tastes; so that twenty years ago these were seen in every direction in Merthyr market, as well as the distinctive long cloaks of bright colors, and the occasional scuttleshaped bonnets. Nowadays the fashion is so greatly relaxed that we see but few of these in Merthyr market. The head-coverings of the women are chiefly mushroom hats of dark straw, or close-fitting bonnets of black crape, always with a lace or muslin cap underneath. There are, however, some specimens still to be seen of the Welsh peasant costume as it has been for generations past; notably a comely young woman behind a vegetable stall, who wears the full costume in all its glory. She is a pink of neatness, and her beaver is superb. I at once christen her the Pride of the Market, and if ever I go to live in Merthyr Tydvil, I shall buy my vegetable marrows of none but her. In another part of the market we pause before a book-stall. The books are all old and thumbed, and nearly all of a religious character. Some are volumes of poetry, none are nevels. Nearly all are in the Welsh tongue. The only fresh wares are a few weekly newspapers, printed in Welsh; and there is a pile of poems or ballads in the same language, two of which we purchase for a penny. The stall-keeper is an elderly man of respectable appearance, who stands carefully at some distance from us while we look at his wares, and comes forward with a bow and a touch of his hat to take my proffered penny, having received which, he touches his hat again, and again retires to a respectful distance. One of the ballads we have bought is titled thus: "Deio Bach, neu hiraeth mam ar ol ei mab yn myned i America." This certainly looks as if it might give a man the lock-jaw; but the stall-keeper being called on to pronounce it, we find that it comes as trippingly from his tongue as if it were a lullaby; and indeed it is something of that nature, being the song of a mother to her son, an emigrant to the land of the Stripes and Stars. of a certain hut on the North Road, Cardiff, without making with his fingers the sign of the Trinity, in order to guard himself against witchcraft. But the belief in fairies, still so strong just north of here, on the other side of the Irish Channel, seems to have quite died out in Wales. The erudite in these deep matters say steam and railroads have banished the little good people. Others aver that the Methodist preachers have driven them away. Anyhow they are gone. "In old time of King Artour All was this land fulfilled of faerie. SPIRIT of wisdom! O spirit of light! The doors of almost all the cottages are wide open, and we can see that they are generally kept with extreme tidiness. Ninetenths of the husbands of these poor wives will come home from their work as black as negroes from the coal in which they delve, but the struggle of the women for cleanli-O ness never seems to weary. Most of the cots are decorated with cheap pictures and images in plaster or crockery. On one wall we see a portrait of Abraham Lincoln side by side with one of Richard Cobden. A favorite objet in these interiors is Britannia, seated, helmet on and shield at side, in blue or green glass. Others are crockery knights on horseback, with curling black locks and gold-tinted waving plumes; groups of peasants going to wedding in white gowns and red kerchiefs; and a stalwart hero, who we hope is Owen Glendower, but who on inquiry proves to be Wallace. Returning to the High Street and following its windings, we see a number of rather handsome stone churches, or chapels, as they are mostly called, among the best of which are the Wesley Chapel and the Shiloh Chapel, in an adjoining street. There are four or five Episcopalian churches in Merthyr, and about forty Dissenting chapels-a fact which sufficiently indicates the pronounced Cambrianism of the people. In spite of the fact that the people of this region lean so strongly to those religious sects which are supposed to least cultivate superstition, there are abundant old wives' tales in vogue of ghosts and banshees, white ladies, green ladies, mountain witches, warning cries, goblin funerals, dogs of the sky, corpse candles, and even the apparition of the Diawl himself. These tales are told and listened to with a solemnity of countenance which at least indicates that they are considered a matter not to be trifled with. There are persons who profess to be able to cast nativities, and who somehow make a living by it. A learned Cardiff gentleman, speaking on the subject of witchcraft before one of the scientific societies there in this enlightened year 1876, seemed rather to uphold the superstitions concerning it. Another gentleman of Cardiff confessed he could not pass by the little ruin You hide in the dewy green grass at my feet, You whisper, you touch me; I turn at your call, And catch but the hem of your garment alone. You look down from the stars, you look up from the sea, You ride on the storm, in the zephyr you sigh; The song of the bird and the hum of the bee Your voice's sweet echo, your step passing by. On the wave of some melody carried afar, To your holy of holies I seem to have come, Yet no nearer to you than is yon northern star To the night-wearied traveler it guides to his home. I stretch out my hands to you, cry and entreat, From nature without and from spirit within win This far, unattained, unattainable goal. Here in vain that I call to you, seek and not find; Ah, tell me that, freed from this bondage of clay, I shall find you and hold you forever and aye, TH THE LOG-BOOK OF THE "SAVANNAH." of May, 1819, bound for St. Petersburg via Liverpool. She reached the latter port on the 20th of June, having used steam eighteen days out of the twenty-six, and thus demonstrated the feasibility of transatlantic steam navigation. The question naturally arises, Who was Moses Rogers, and what were his qualifications for the venturesome undertaking? Moses Rogers was born in New London, Connecticut, in the year 1779, and from early youth was engaged in sea-faring enterprises. He was actively interested in the earliest experiments which were made on the North River in the application of steam to the purposes of navigation. "He commanded the first steamboat on the Hudson River, the Fulton, the first steamboat on the Delaware, the Phonix, the first steamboat on the ChesaHE honor of first navigating the sea with peake, the Eagle, the first steamboat between a steamer belongs to Colonel John Ste- Charleston and Savannah, name not recolvens, of New York, and the credit is not di- lected, and the first steam-ship that crossed minished by the fact that he was forced to it the Atlantic, the Savannah." Details of the by circumstances beyond his control. Hav- transatlantic voyage will be given later. ing built the steamboat Phoenix, he was pre- On his return from Europe he was employed vented from navigating the Hudson, because in navigating the Great Pedee, in South at that time (1808) Fulton and Livingston | Carolina, and, contracting malarial fever, had a monopoly of this river, and accordingly the Phoenix was sent around by sea to the Delaware River. England in those days was very active and ambitious in the new enterprise, yet it was nine years later before she ventured on sea-voyages. In 1817 the steamer Caledonia first crossed the Channel on her way to Holland. Transatlantic steam navigation was long discussed before any one combining sufficient skill with courage and a spirit of adventure made the bold attempt. The Times (of London, England), in the issue of May 11, 1819, thus announces the expected event: "GREAT EXPERIMENT.-A new steam-vessel of 300 tons has been built at New York for the express purpose of carrying passengers across the Atlantic. She is to come to Liverpool direct." On the very day that this brief notice appeared, the vessel referred to was visited by the President of the United States and suit, and made a short trial trip previous to her departure on a hazardous voyage. This steamer, named the Savannah, the first that crossed any of the oceans, was built at the city of New York by Francis Ficket for Daniel Dodd. Her engines were made by Stephen Vail, of Morristown. She was launched on the 22d of August, 1818. She could carry only seventy-five tons of coal and twenty-five cords of wood. Commanded by Captain Moses Rogers, and navigated by Stephen Rogers, both of New London, Connecticut, the Savannah sailed from the city of Savannah, Georgia, on the 25th died at the early age of forty-two years. The original log-book of the Savannah, containing the daily record of her memorable voyage, is still in possession of Captain Rogers's descendants, one of whom has kindly MOSES ROGERS, ET. 21-23. 20 placed it in my hands for examination, with permission also to make extracts from its yet unpublished pages. This valuable relic is made up of ninetysix pages of coarse paper of unusual size, twelve inches wide, and nineteen and a half long, browned with age, and with edges ragged from much handling. Only fifty-two pages are written on, the rest remaining |