w exactly where we were going, or what we were going
to do; but when we got as far as Dowlais we were saved the trouble of
deciding, for there was Mr. Guest, with a great army of soldiers drawn
up across the road. Mr. Guest was as cool as myself, and rode forward
to meet us as if we were the best friends in the world. He made a good
speech, begging us to think of our wives and families, and go quietly
home whilst we had the chance. Nothing came of that, however, and he
pulled out a paper, and read an Act of Parliament, after which he
turned to the commander-in chief of the soldiers, and said he had done
all a magistrate could do, and the soldiers must do the rest.

"'Get ready,' shouts out the commander-in-chief; and the soldiers
brought their muskets down with a flash like lightning, and a clash that
made me feel uncomfortable, remembering what I had seen on the Friday.

"'Present!'

"There was ten murderous barrels looking straight at us. Another word,
and we should have their contents amongst our clothes. It was an awful
moment. I saw one black-bearded fellow had covered me as if I were a
round target, and I said to myself as well as I could speak for my lips
were like parched peas, 'Morgan Griffiths, twelve shillings a week and
an allowance of coal is better than this'; and I'm not ashamed to own
that I turned round and made my way through the crush of our men, which
was getting less inconveniently pressing at the end nearest to the
levelled barrels.

"There was, to tell the truth, a good deal of movement towards the rear
amongst our men, and when Mr. Guest saw this he rode up again, and,
standing right between the guns and the front rank of our men, said
something which I could not rightly hear, and then our men began running
off faster than ever, so that in about half an hour the soldiers had the
road to themselves.

"That was not the last of the riots, but it is all I can tell you about
them, for I had had quite enough of the business. There is something
about the look of a row of muskets pointed at you, with ball inside the
barrels and a steady finger on the triggers, which you don't care to see
too often.

"Anyhow, I went home, and there heard tell of more fighting all that
week on the Brecon road, of Merthyr in a state of panic, and at last of
Dick Penderyn and Lewis the Huntsman being taken, and the whole of our
men scattered about the country, and hunted as if they were rats.

"It was a bad business,