 |
Web Hosting by Netfirms | Free Domain Names by Netfirms |
|
|
|
|
Wedi ein mynediad i mewn, gwelsom fod gwraig y bugail yn ei gwely yn glaf, a’i merch hynaf yn gweinyddu iddi: nid oedd o un lles ceisio ymddyddan a hwynt, am na ddeallant Saesneg, ond Galig yn unig; er hyny, deallent ein hamnaid yn gofyn diod, a rhoddodd y ferch i ni ddiod o dê. Yn yr hwyr, daeth y bugail adref, a gwên ar ei enau: gofynasom iddo a fyddai ef fwyned a gadael i ni aros ar lawr ei fwthyn dros nos, ac yr aem ymaith y boreu i chwilio am waith, a chydsyniodd yntau yn rhwydd. Er na chawsom gan yr hen Albanwr hwn o’r blaen ond llymaid o ddwfr oer yn unig, gan gwyno prinder bwyd i’w blant, efe a aeth y tro hwn i ganol y ddiadell, cymmerodd a lladdodd ddafad, a rhoddes y bedwaredd ran i ni, a phadell i’w ffrïo, yng nghyda theisen a thê, a bwyttasom yn ehelaeth. |
We saw that the shepherd’s wife was sick in bed, and her eldest daughter was tending to her: it was no use trying to converse with them, as they understood no English, only Gaelic; but they understood our sign that we wanted a drink, and the daughter gave us some tea. In the evening, the shepherd came home with a smile on his face: we asked if he would be kind enough to let us sleep on the floor of his hut overnight, and leave in the morning, and he readily agreed. Though the old Scotsman, complaining of the scarcity of food for his children, had given us nothing but a sip of cold water the time before, this time he went out among his flock, took a sheep and killed it, and gave us one quarter, with a pan to fry it, and cake and tea, which we ate ravenously. |
|
Tranoeth y boreu, canasom yn iach a’r hen fugail, a theithiasom ar hyd yr hen ffordd at y tyddyn lle yr ymadawsom, fel y gwnaethom yr ail dydd wedi ein diangc o’r llong: ond yn lle troi i mewn, aethom yn mlaen, heb droi ar aswy nac ar ddehau, ac yn mhen y naw milltir o’r tyddyn hwnw, aethom heibio i dŷ tad ein meistr, yr hwn oedd y tŷ nesaf iddo yn y ffordd hono, ac, yng nghorph y dydd, teithiasom heibio i ddau neu dri o dyddynod eraill, heb ymofyn am waith yn y naill na’r llall o honynt. Ond oddeutu chwech o’r gloch y prydnhawn daethom i olwg tyddyn, ac wrth ochr cae iddo nifer o ddynion yn amgau caerau o gylch y buarth lle y cyfrifant eu defaid. Yr oedd yn eu plith ddau neu dri o hen forwyr yn gweithio, y rhai a ddywedasant wrthym y bwriadant hwy ymadael wedi ychydig ddyddiau, gyda’r amcan o fyned i gloddfeydd aur yn Ballarat, ac y meddylient y gallem gael gwaith yn eu lle hwynt. Gyda hyny, daeth attom Wyddel mawr afrosgo, ac yna aeth i annedd y meistr, i ofyn iddo ddyfod allan a’n cyflogi. Bywiai y meistr hwn mewn palas gwych, ac o’i flaen ardd ffrwythlawn a hardd; a thra y Gwyddel yn ei brysur alw yr oeddym ninnau yn brysur siarad a’n gilydd mewn perthynas i beidio a chytuno gydag ef am lai cyflog nag o’r blaen yn y tyddyn, am fod yn hwnw rai yn cael deg swllt ar hugain yr wythnos a’u bwyd. |
The next morning, we bade goodbye to the old shepherd, and travelled along the old road to the farm we had left, as we had done the second day after our escape from the ship: but instead of turning in, we went on, turning neither right nor left, and within nine miles of the old place we passed the house of our master’s father, which was the next house along the road; and during the day we passed two or three more farms without asking for work at any of them. But about six o’clock in the afternoon we came in sight of a farm where a number of men were enclosing the yard where the sheep were counted. There were two or three old sailors working among them, who told us they intended to leave after a few days, with the aim of going to the Ballarat goldfields; and they thought we could get work in their place. With that, a big ungainly Irishman came to us, and then went to the master’s residence and asked him to come out and hire us. This master lived in a splendid mansion, with a beautiful, productive garden in front; and while the Irishman was busy calling the master, we were busy talking about refusing to work for less money than we had before at the other farm, where some men were getting thirty shillings a week with food. |
|
Y meistr a ddaeth allan, ac arno olwg hynaws ac addfwyn; plygodd ei ben braidd ar ei ysgwydd, a dywedodd, gan chwerthin, “Wel, forwyr wedi rhedeg, pymtheg swllt yr wythnos a’ch bwyd, yw y cyflog a roddaf i chwi.” “Dyn byw, ebe ninnau,” wrthom ein hunain, “dyma siomedigaeth ddychrynllyd,” a dywedasom wrtho yntau. “Yr ydym ni, syr, yn hen weithwyr ar dyddynod, ac yr oeddem yn cael pump swllt ar hugain yr wythnos, a dau neu dri gwydriaid o Rum bob dydd, yn y tyddyn lle buom ni ddiweddaf.” Gofynodd, “yn mha le yr oeddech ddiweddaf?” Attebasom, “Gyda Mr. Storton, syr.” Yna dywedodd, “Cymeraf yn ganiatäol eich bod yn rhai da, a rhai fel chwi sydd yn gwneyd i fyny ddiffygion y dynion gwaelion a fyddaf yn taro wrthynt; ac felly pymtheg swllt yr wythnos yw fy nghyflog i’r naill gyda’r llall.” “O,” ebe ninnau, “nid yw hynny, syr, yn dro teg, sef rhoddi yr un faint i’r gwael ag i rai gwych fel ni.” “Gwnewch yr un a ddewisoch a’i gwrthod y cynnyg a’i peidio,” ebe y meistr, “ar y telerau yna y byddaf fi yn cyflogi morwyr.” Ar hyny aeth dipyn oddiwrthym, gan gerdded yn araf; a gofynodd Jack i ni ein dau, pa beth a wnaem, ai cymeryd gwaith am wythnos neu ddwy, ynte myned ar grwydr yn ddioed, a chwilio am le gwell:” yr wyf fi fy hun, meddai ef, “yn meddwl mai aros yma, dros ychydig yw y goreu.” Ninnau a gydsyniasom â Jack, ac aethom at y meistr i’w hysbysu yr arosem dros ychydig.” Atebodd yntau, “O’r goreu,” gan ddangos a’i law y ffordd i ni fyned at y tŷ lle y trigiannai y gweithwyr. Yno a ni, a gwelem yr ymddangosai yn lle cysurus a rhyw wneuthurwr hwyliau yn cogyddio ynddo. |
The master came out, and looked a kind and gentle man; he bent his head almost onto his shoulder and said, laughing, “Well, runaway sailors, fifteen shillings a week and your food is what I’ll give you.” “Man alive,” we said to our selves, “here’s a frightful disappointment,” and said to the master, “We are experienced farm workers, and we got twenty-five shillings a week, and two or three glasses of Rum every day, in the place where we last were.” He asked, “Where were you last?” We answered, “With Mr. Storton, sir.” Then he said, “I take it for granted that you’re good men, and men like you make up the failings of the poor workers I put with them; and so fifteen shillings a week is what I give each one.” “Oh,” we said, “that’s not fair dealing, giving the same amount to the bad workers and to good ones like us.” “Do as you wish, take the offer or refuse it,” said the master, “those are my terms for employing sailors.” He moved a little away from us, walking slowly; and Jack asked the two of us what we should do, take the work for a week or two, or wander on to look for a better place: “I myself,” he said, “think it best to stay here a while.” We agreed with Jack, and went to inform the master. He said “All right,” and pointed out the way to the house where the workers stayed. Off we went, and found a comfortable-looking place where a sail-maker was cooking. |
|
Y boreu canlynol, gyda chodiad yr haul, daeth yr arolygwr i alw arnom i fyned a dechreu ymafael yn ein gwaith, ac aethom i gae mawr, ac ynddo wair, ceirch, haidd, a phytatws; a’n gwaith yno oedd troi y ceirch a orweddai wedi ei fedi, at iddo sychu dan dywyniad yr haul, ar ol y gwlaw mawr a grybwyllais. |
The following morning at dawn, the overseer came to call us for work, and we went to a big field with hay, oats, barley and potatoes. Our job was to turn the reaped oats lying on the ground, to dry them under the sun’s rays after the heavy rain I mentioned. |
|
Wedi i ni droi’r ceirch, daeth y garddwr, a’i bladur, i fedi’r ceirch a safai; a’r pryd hyn, a ni yn ei ddilyn i rwymo’r ceirch yn ysgubau, gwaeddodd yr arolygwr, gan gnoi gwelltyn, “Ffwrdd a hi! Ffwrdd a hi ddynion!” mewn rhyw ddull afrywiog anghyffredin. Gofynodd Jack yn lled ëofn iddo, “Pa beth a ydych yn ei feddwl, ai meddwl y cewch ein gyru fel caethion?” ac ychwanegodd Jack, gan ei regi. “Cofiwch gymmaint a hyn, yr wyf fi yn gwybod mwy am dyddynod, a’u gwaith, nac a wybuoch chwi erioed.” Yna, addefodd yr arolygwr ei fod ar fai yn gwaeddi fel y gwnaeth; eithr nas gallai, rhyw fodd, attal ei dafod, gan ddywedyd, “Yr ydwyf wedi arfer a gwaeddi cymmaint ar gaethweision; mewn gwirionedd, nid wyf fi yn deall amaethyddiaeth; ac ni hoffais y gwaith erioed.” Cawsom lonydd da gan hwnw wedi hyn, trwy hyny o amser a arosasom yn y tyddyn. Hen arolygwr caethion, wedi bod yn eu gyru am flynyddau, fel gyru anifeiliaid, ar dir yr India oedd hwn; a chanddo gymhwysderau i orchymyn, i feio, ac i siarad mor rugl a chlap, clap, wyau y pasg. Ychydig wythnosau o’r blaen y deuodd ef i’r tyddyn, a chafodd fod yr arolygwr, trwy’r ffafr i rhyw wr o sylw yn Melbourne wneyd ei le; ond wedi iddo fod yno yn nghylch deufis, trowyd ef ymaith, at wneuthur lle i un a wyddai fwy am waith ar dyddyn nag ef. |
After we turned the oats, the gardener came with his scythe to cut the oats still standing; just then, as we were tying the oats in sheaves, the overseer, chewing a straw, cried “Slapdash! Slapdash, men!” in an uncommonly harsh way. Rather boldly, Jack asked him, “What do you think, you can drive us like slaves?” and added, swearing, “Remember this much, I know more about farms and farm work than you ever knew.” Then the overseer confessed he was at fault in shouting as he had; but somehow he could not hold his tongue. He said, “I’m used to shouting like that at slaves; it’s true, I don’t understand agriculture; and I never liked the work.” This gave us much merriment afterwards, all through the time we spent at the farm. He had been an overseer of slaves, having driven them for years, as one drives animals, on the land in India, and was qualified to command, to reprimand, and to speak just as he pleased.2 He had come to the farm a few weeks before, and secured the position of overseer through the favour of some gentleman of note in Melbourne; but after being there about two months, he was turned away to make room for a man who knew more about farming than he did. |
|
Wedi ymadawiad yr arolygwr, dodwyd ni dan reolaeth y garddwr, a dyhiryn drwg noeth oedd hwn. Dywedodd ef ei hun wrthym, iddo gael ei alltudio allan o Loegr er ys chwech mlynedd ar hugain i’r amser hyn: nis gofynasom, ac ni ddywedodd ef am ba beth, nac o ba gwr i’r deyrnas. Ymddangosai y darfu iddo ddal sylw mawr ar ansawdd y wlad yn ystod y tymhor maith hwnw; gwyddai gryn lawer am ei brodorion, ac âi dros eu hanes yn ymladd gyda’r bobl wynion, flynyddau amryw cyn bod son am gloddfeydd yr aur. Dywedai yr arferent a dyfod yn finteioedd ar warthaf yr ammaethwyr, ac yna lladratta eu dïadelloedd, a’r oll a allent ei symmud. |
After the overseer’s departure, we were placed under the control of the gardener, and a thorough rogue he was. He told us himself he had been transported from England twenty-six years before: we did not ask, and he did not tell us, for what crime or from what corner of the kingdom. It seemed he had made a great study of the country; he knew a good deal about its natives, and went over their history fighting with the white people, several years before there was talk of the goldfields. He said that they used to come in troops on the farmers and steal their flocks, and anything else they could move. |
|
Y mae’r tyddynod yn Australia wedi eu britho yn gyffredin gyda dynion a alltudiwyd y blynyddoedd gynt i New Zealand. Gweithia dau neu dri o honynt ar y tyddyn lle yr oeddem o’r blaen, a dim llai na saith o’r cyfryw ar hwn. Hwy a adwaenant eu gilydd yn dra rhyfedd, gan wybod a fydd dyn wedi ei alltudio yno ai peidio. Pan y byddo un yn chwilio am waith ar y tyddynod, ac i’r meistr siarad ychydig ag ef, gofynir weithiau, “Am ba beth y cefaist di dy alltudio allan o’th wlad?” A’r ymddyddanion hyfrydaf rhyngddynt, ar ol eu noswylio, ydyw adrodd eu hanesion, ymfrostïo o’u drygioni, a darlunio y modd y byddent yn torri tai, a chyflawni troseddau eraill cyn eu dal. Gwelir felly, nad yw newid gwlad a chymdeithion yn gallu newid dim ar elfen ddrwg dyn, er y dichon i amgylchiadau felly newid ei ddull yn gweithredu. |
The farms in Australia are generally sprinkled with men transported in former years to New Zealand.3 Two or three of them worked on the farm where we had previously been, and no less than seven such men on this one. They were remarkably good at recognizing each other, being able to tell whether a man had been transported or not. When one of these sought work on the farms and wanted to speak with the master, they were sometimes asked, “Why were you transported from your country?” And the most favoured conversation among them after they finished work was to tell their stories, boast of their wickedness, and describe how they broke into houses and committed other crimes before they were caught. So one can see that changing country and company cannot change a man’s wicked disposition, though new circumstances can change his conduct. |
|
Yr oedd yno rhyw hen wr, bychan ei gorpholaeth, gwyn ei wallt, a chrymedig ei warr, yr hwn a alwent Bliwi. Ni chlywais erioed ei briodol enw; ac yntau wrth gael ei lysenwi Bliwi, a ddangosai y moesgarwch mwyaf. Rhyw ddarlun lled gywir o Punch and Judy oedd Bliwi. Yr wyf yn cofio, eu bod un noswaith yn ymddyddan am eu gwrolgampau mewn drygioni cyn eu halltudio, nes i’r hen Bliwi gael ei orlenwi a llawenydd; ac yn ei lawenydd hwnw, neidiodd allan o ryw gongl i’r tŷ, a phibell yn ei gêg, yng nghyd a chap coch am ei ben, a’i ddwylaw yn ei logellau, megys Ffrancwr: a phan oedd y gewach cam yn ceisio ymsythu a phrancio ar ganol y llawr, a’r dynion yn dywedyd, “Edrychwch,—edrychwch ar Bliwi,” gwelwn ef yn bolchwyddo; a chlywn ef yn dywedyd, gydag ymffrost hunanoldeb, mewn llais uchel, “Nid rhyw ychydig a dwyllais I ar y Llywodraeth!” |
There was an old fellow there, of small stature with white hair and a bent back, whom they called “Bluey”. I never heard his proper name, and his nickname showed the greatest politeness. Bluey was the very picture of “Punch and Judy”. I recall them talking one evening about their villainous exploits before transportation, until old Bluey overflowed with merriness, and in his merriness he leapt out of a corner of the house, with a pipe in his mouth and a red cap on his head, and his hands in his pockets like a Frenchman: and as the crooked old bag of bones tried to straighten himself and prance about in the middle of the floor, with the men crying “Look,—look at Bluey,” I saw him swell up, and heard him pridefully boast, in a loud voice, “Cheated the government not a few, I did!” |
|
Un dydd wedi gwneuthur o honom amryw deisi o’r ceirch ar y cae, anfonwyd yr ail îs-lywydd a Jack, yn fuan wedi boreufwyd, i chwilio am ddefnyddiau i wneuthur dwy ffust ddyrnu, a dychwelasant gyda’r cyfryw erbyn ciniaw. Yr oedd Jack a’i lygad yn ei ben wrth y gwaith hwn eto, fel pob gwaith arall; daeth ef a defnydd a ystyrid yn briodol, ond am eiddo’r llall, chwarddai pawb a edrychai arno, am ei fod yn brenau trymion gan ffyrfed a braich. Er hyny, ni fynnai ef nad oedd yn gampus, a dywedodd, “Nid dyma’r tro cyntaf i mi fod wrth y gwaith hwn.” Am danaf fi, nis gwyddwn nad oedd yn ffust rhagorol, am na sylwais erioed ar y fath offeryn, ac ni feddyliais fod na da na drwg i ddeillio i mi drwyddo, oblegid hwy eu dau a gawsant eu dethol i ddyrnu, a minnau, ar y pryd, i osod rhyw lidiart. |
One day after we had made several stacks of oats in the field, the second mate and Jack were sent soon after breakfast to look for materials to make two threshing-flails, and returned with them before dinner. Jack knew what he was doing in this task as in every other; he had brought the right material, but what the other man had made everyone who saw it laugh, for it was heavy wood as thick as an arm. He insisted nevertheless that it was of excellent quality, saying “This is not the first time I’ve been at this work.” As for me, I did not know it was a poor flail as I had never seen such an implement, and I did not think that either good or bad would accrue to me because of it, as the other two were picked to thresh, while I had to put up a gate. |
|
I lawr i’r cae yr aethont eu dau i ddechreu dyrnu’r ceirch; ond cyn eu bod yno’n hir, aeth un i anfon yr ail îs-lywydd i fugeilio rhai o’r praidd; am fod un o’r bugeiliaid wedi diangc, ac am fod yntau wedi lolian ei fedrusrwydd yn y gwaith o fugeilio wrth y meistr pan y daeth yno gyntaf. Bu yn bugeilio ychydig wythnosau ar y tyddyn, ond wedi dyfod bugail newydd, symudwyd ef i un o’r bythod, ychydig filltiroedd oddiwrthym, i fugeilio tair mil o ŵyn: canys perchenogai ein meistr o ddeg i bymtheg mil o ddefaid ac ŵyn ar ei diriogaeth, heblaw llawer iawn o geffylau, teirw, bustych, a bychod. |
Down went the two of them to start threshing the oats; but before they had been there long, someone came to send the second mate to tend some of the flock, as one of the shepherds had run away, and the second mate had lied to the master about his shepherding abilities when he first came to the farm. He did this for a few weeks, until a new shepherd arrived, when he was he moved to one of the huts a few miles from us, to tend three thousand lambs: since our master owned between ten and fifteen thousand sheep and lambs on his property, besides a great many horses, bulls, bullocks, and goats. |
|
Ar ol ymadawiad ein cyfaill i fugeilio, disgynodd coelbren myned at Jack i ddyrnu arnaf fi, ac aethym i’r cae. “Wel, Hugh,” ebe Jack, “a ddeuaist di yma?” Atebais innau, “Do; ond ni fedraf fi ddim oddiwrth y dyrnu yma.” Ar hyny dywedodd Jack, “Dyn, dyn, ti a wnai llawn cystal a’r ail îs-lywydd, yr wyf yn sicr; un gwael iawn oedd ef: ond yr oeddwn yn meddwl ar ei siarad, cyn ein dyfod at y gwaith, y buasai ef yn ffustio’r cwbl! Dyna’r ffust a wnaeth yn y fan yna; a buasai llawer un na phroffesodd weled ffust erioed, yn gwneyd un mwy rhesymol i ddyrnu na’r un yna: am y gwaith, Hugh, ti a ddeui iddo yn union.” |
After the departure of our companion for the flocks, the lot fell on me to help Jack with the threshing, and I went to the field. “Well, Hugh,” said Jack, “you’ve come to help?” I answered, “Yes, but I know nothing of this threshing.”; to which Jack replied, “Man, man, you’ll do quite as well as the second mate, I’m sure; a useless one, he was, but I thought from what he said before we started the job that he had threshed everything. That’s the flail he made there; and there would be many a man professing never to have seen a flail who could make one more suitable for threshing than that one: for this work, Hugh, you’ll do.” |
|
2 The Welsh is literally “as freely as clap, clap, Easter eggs”, referring to the chants of children collecting eggs before Easter in a custom once widespread in North Wales. 3 The author corrects this to Van Diemen’s Land later in the text. |