Summary

The Atlantic Monthly — A Welch Musical Festival

This was something like an old English madrigal done into Welsh, and, as a specimen of vocalization, pleasing enough,--as pleasing, that is, as Welsh singing can be to an English ear; but how different from the soft, liquid Italian trillings, the flexible English warblings, the melodious ballads of Scotland, or the rollicking songs of Ireland! There was only one of the many singers I heard at the Festival who at all charmed me, and that was a little vocalist of much repute in Southern Wales for her bird-like voice and brilliancy of execution.
Source: Wikisource

The Atlantic Monthly — A Welch Musical Festival

Apollo playing on his stringed instrument presents a very graceful appearance; but fancy a Welsh Orpheus with a face all seamed and scarred by smallpox,--a short, fiery button in the middle of his countenance, serving for a nose,--a mouth awry and toothless,--and two long, dirty, bony hands, with claw-like fingers tipped with dark crescents,--and I do not think the picture will be a pleasant one. If the horrible-looking old fellow had concealed his ghastly eyes by colored glasses, the effect would not have been so disagreeable
Source: Wikisource

The Atlantic Monthly — A Welch Musical Festival

On the foremost seat, to the right of the chairman, sits a lady who is evidently a somebody, since all the gentlemen, on entering, pay her especial respect. She is rather past the middle age, but has worn well; her eye is still bright, her cheek fresh-colored, and her skin smooth. Evidently she takes much interest in the proceedings,--and little wonder,--for it is mainly owing to her exertions that the Festival has not become one of the things that were.
Source: Wikisource

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