Papurau Newydd Cymru

Chwiliwch 15 miliwn o erthyglau papurau newydd Cymru

Cuddio Rhestr Erthyglau

5 erthygl ar y dudalen hon



HARDlC SCENES.  BARDIC ob?b. I —.— t The Chairing Ceremony. By The Crowned Bard. I Xcath has this week welcomed the Na- j tional Eisteddfod in all its splendour, and the gathering will, no doubt, be l-no'va for generations as one of the most sue- j cessful in the long history of the national j institution, and the good folk of Neath can but regret that they so long delayed their invitation. Tho Welsh language [ had become a lonely 6tranger wandering in its streets, and a few years more would have heard thte last 6weet accents of the peculiar tongue in the Vale of Neath. This would have been a great pity. for the beautiful vale has of old been the home of Welsh culture, and to the vast halls of the old Monastery came the sages of the United Kingdom and of many lands. \Here were re-told those delightful tales which have coloured the romances of the world. In this sequestered vale were the haunts of the Tylwyth Teg, but of lata the heavy taint of the industrial army has driven away the lissome lads and lastes. Now that the Eisteddfod has come, and its pomp and circumstance de- parted, we shall hear again in Neath the ancient tongue, and once more will the romantic Welsh spirit wander freely about the vale. The white robes of the bards in the I Gorsedd ceremony sent one back to bye- gone ages, and one saw there the White Monks of the Abbey, with their robes flowing. telling the ancient lore come down from ages past from lip to lip. But even as the priests of old received into the j sacred fold many who had not heard the divine call, ep in the present, what one most regrets ii that the portals of the Gorsedd are go wide. Gossip among the bards in Eisteddfod week centres round the chief bardic com- petition—the chair ode—and, as a rule, the gossips are not far wrong. So it was this year; the privileged few had already guessed the identity of the lucky one. j The chairing ceremony was an imposing Ii one. The chair itself was a beautiful one, of dark oak, chaste in design ,and ex- quisitely carved, and at the call of the Archdruid Thfed. a vast array of mem- bers of the mystic circle gathered round I the chair. The adjudication on the 11 competitors, delivered by Sir John Morris Jones, M.A., was educative. Sir John, a picturesque figure, with flowing black locks and a pleasant far-reaching voicc. said the subject. Eu ner a folant'' ("Their lord they shall praise"( wa& part I of a porphecv wrongly attributed to Taliesin, and he and his coadjudicatore, J. J. Williams and the Archdruid, were awarding the prize to Enaf the poet who lidd best caught the spirit in which this great prophecy of many ages ago -had been fulfilled up to this day. With true dramatic instinct h&\ read out passages from the winning poeTu illustrating the poet's theme, showing how in some old monastery the poet heard the priests sing hmyns of praise, and hearing through years of -revivals ttfid cyman- faoedd the religious fervour of. the Welsh I. people being expressed in psalms of praier. Some of the verses Sir John described as cf exquisite beauty, and "Enaf" was pro- claimed the winner amid applause. When the Archdruid asked "Enaf" to show himself in the audience, a well- known old eisteddfodwr—the winner of many trophies rose in the centre of the pavilion none other than "Job," who has already captured two chairs, a crown, and an international chair at San Francisco. He was escorted to the plat- form by Ben Davies and Mafonwy, and chaired with the customary ceremony, Dyfed sheathing the sword at the shout of Peace. And with the ring of Peace still floating round the pavilion, Llew Tegid, on be- half of the committee brought us back to the etern realities of life. For three years now they usually had a message I from the boys at the Front, but thi3 year none had yet come. They were too busy or too far to send them a message of good will. The surging crowd immedi- ately rose, and at the call of Major Watts Morgan, D.S.O., three rousing cheers rent the air and the Major crowned all with "Gojroniant am byth i'r Hen Wlad." National fervour was deeply etirred by the magnificent rendering of Welsh eongs by Madame Laura Evans-Williams, and with the music etill in his ears no wonder that the chairman, Mr. John Hinds, M.P., could not control the over- flowing of his soul. Truly the National at Neath has been a great festival. D. Emrys Lewis. I