buying the island, but after actually going there and receiving such a poor welcome, he took the greatest umbrage. He wouldn't have wanted it afterwards, even if it had been offered to him, birds and all, for nothing.
And that was a pity, too, because he was such a generous fellow. If he had bought it, then perhaps he would have later presented it to the Urdd, 2 or to some other organization. And nor do I think that the saints who are buried on Bardseywould have been too put out if he had bought it, even though his family had made their pile by taking advantage of the thirsty people of Lincolnshire over many generations. The plans that a member of the aristocracy had for the place a little while ago were a far greater cause for their turning in their graves, I can tell you. And it would also have saved a lot of trouble for the Trust that's been trying to pay for the island these last ten years.
As his health deteriorated, Hewitt spent more and more of his time in the Bahamas, but it was in Cemlyn that the 'Modest Millionaire' (that's the title of the biography of him that was written by William Hywel of Cemaes) died. And it was there in his garden that his ashes were scattered. Nowadays the place belongs to the National Trust. Take the first opportunity you have of going there; it's a paradise for those who seek a retreat in which to lick their wounds.
How much did he leave, this wealthy man? Well, if what I hear is correct, yes, that's right — he left the whole lot.
Llacio'r Gengal ( Gwasg Gomer, 1982)
Once upon a time, there was a very loose relationship between me and the English Army. It was in the days when I was a reluctant member of the Officer Training Corps at Llandovery College. I believe the College has become rather more civilized since the late 1950s — and grown seven times more snobbish at the same time. In my days as a pupil there, the place might have been described as a