Chwarae ar Y Graig. Playing on the Rock.

by Gordon Weare
(New Zealand)

 A more recent picture of me.

A more recent picture of me.

There it stood like Ayers Rock in Australia - Llangefni's own great slab of granite rock. And standing guard aloft the old man who watches over us - Y Felin - The Mill. Built in 1812 there is a photo of her in full sail.

I believe the Graig is now crowned in thorn bushes. In my day it had some gorse, I had a chunk of that rock on top of my tv set here in New Zealand.

A lot of that gorse was burnt! And previous generations played cricket on there, so don't hit the ball too hard, because its a hard climb up and down. Huw Williams was an old fella, who's cows (Welsh Black) roamed the growing estates to eat.

He always had dogs, whistles & whips, and being grumpy, always chased kids off his Graig, swirling his whip ! He was a short man, with a worn, black waistcoat with a watch chain and fob.

He had one son, a charming man, who died suddenly.

These were the last of that unique generation of pure Angleseyites, for the want of better words.

As a boy I climbed the ivy to the first window often, staring down at the complete views it offers of the farming town of Llangefni.

Inside, the old mill (Felyn Y Graig) was draughty and windy and you could see the sky through the circular roof, long gone. Today the Old Man Mill wears a deserved hat.

From 1812 on the Felin supplied flour to the armies fighting Napoleon. One of the boys in 'our gang' fell off the rock, on the high side, then facing a TB sanatorium ( A supermarket today). He damaged his back, and was in a harness.

My father worked at the TB place and caught TB himself,
I was eight years old, and Dad was in bed at No17 Pencraig, the top-left window, for 18 months, we were not allowed to enter the bedroom.

Clay pipes were abundant in the bushes of Y Graig, left by the Victorian workers.

Dear Gordon

It is brilliant to hear from you. The Graig is still there and will see us all off. I didn’t know about Felin Graig's history and thank you or that.

Mr Williams, Felin Graig Farm actually was a very sweet man and he and his wife friends of my Mum and Dad. Kids can be a blinkin’ nuisance.

Do you remember him taking his cows to graze along the road side toward Talwrn and the Penmynydd Road?

The son was Owen and he was at school with my Dad. I believe it was Len Hawker who found him collapsed at the gate of the farm and my Dad who carried his body to the farmhouse.

Mrs Williams was blind and as kind as her husband. My Dad always got emotonal when he spoke of Mrs Williams being unable to see her son this one last time, running her hands over his face again and again tears streaming down her face.

I can't believe that anyone could ever play cricket on Y Graig. We just used to play Cowboys and Indians, Hide and Seek and ... forgive us ... British and Germans.

Do you remember Washi Bach the tramp who used to visit Felin Graig every year?

Looking at your weapon makes me think that you drink too much coffee.

In the words of a Llangefni wag, "You look very extinguished".

Thanks so very much for bringing back sweet memories of a gentle childhood in Llangefni.

I’ll post some pictures after I take them this weekend.

Hwyl am rwan


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