By: Clifford McLucas
1.
HAFOD?
A House, Three Figures and a Landscape
First, we always need a wide shot.
A view from far enough away to get some background in the frame and close enough to see the figures, their separate outlines and their sex, but not so close that we are embarrassed or shocked. So here it is.
In 1779, Thomas Johnes - of a wealthy family with properties in Wales and England - marries his first wife. He is 31 years old, and he has studied in Edinburgh, has travelled Europe and has begun to be regarded by his family as something of a wastrel.
In 1780, on the death of his father, he inherits a property in west Wales and, on visiting it for the first time, is captivated and decides that this will be the location of a life long project. Within three years his wife has died, he has secretly married his cousin Jane, and in 1784 a daughter is born - to be named Mariamne. The date of the marriage of Thomas and Jane is uncertain - if it took place at all - and it may be that Mariamne was born out of wedlock. In 1786, according to one Welsh writer, another child - named Evan - is born but dies in infancy.
In the same year, Johnes begins to build a new house on the site of the old. In 1788 it is finished and the first stage of Johnes project is complete. Over the following years he is to spend an enormous fortune on the Hatod estate. He carries out extensive afforestation of the land, he collects art works from all over Europe, he investigates and develops entirely new methods of agriculture and he even sets up a printing press at Hafod.
In 1793 he is forced away to fight the French and for two years the house is unoccupied by the family. In 1796, he is elected MP for Cardiganshire. In the same year, a garden is created for Mariamne, but she falls ill with a mysterious sickness. It is discovered that she is suffering from a disease of the spine that is to leave her body misshapen for the fest of her life. She suffers terribly for three years and has to be fitted with metal 'stays’ to enable her to walk.
During these years Johnes begins to go through an ever deepening financial crisis - Hafod is draining his resources.
After a brief respite, Mariamne falls ill again in 1804, but by 1806 she is walking five miles a day with her adult companion James Smith - the President of the Linnaean Society, and an eminent scholar and naturalist, who is astonished at the child's knowledge of insects and plants. In 1807, a fire destroys Hafod and much of Johnes' collection of books, furniture and art objects is lost. Astonishingly, considering his deepening financial crisis, he decides to rebuild the house and for the next 3 or 4 years the family have to live elsewhere. By 1809, Mariamne is seriously ill again, and the family move back into Hafod in 1810, where she finally dies a year later at the age of 27. Johnes is in financial ruin, and by 1813 he is living in Devon where, on the 23rd of April 1818, he dies.
Over the following years Hafod changes hands several times, its buildings are extended by other owners and it is systematically stripped of its assets. Johnes' trees are felled and sold for timber, and the house is repeatedly sold on until, by 1955, it is considered a dangerous ruin and is demolished.
Johnes is recorded as a pioneer in the field of Welsh agriculture, as a benefactor and good landlord to his tenants, and as a fine gentleman who created a perfect and picturesque world in west Wales, where he lived with his wife and only daughter like "peacocks in paradise".
By: Clifford McLucas
He is standing in a wooded valley by a river. The land around him is not flat. The narrow valley rises steeply on each side and is made up of rocky outcrops and mature but small oaks, beeches and the occasional mountain ash.
All these trees are self-seeded and have grown unevenly in the thin soil. The sunshine casts deep shadows on the ground.
There is no wind.
His eyes scan the view in front of him as though he is searching for someone behind a rock, in the river or hidden in the undergrowth.
Keeping his face to the view for as long as he can, he slowly and purposefully turns his body so that his back is to the view – his head being the last part of him to turn away. He stands like this for some minutes, facing away from the scene. He appears to be talking quietly to himself.
Eventually, he reaches into a deep pocket and pulls out a flat circular metal case with a lid, which he opens. It contains a small circular convex mirror or lens that is tinted blue.
He raises it upwards and holds it in front of his face so that he can view the scene he has just discovered. Immediately, the scene is transformed. The curvature and tint of the glass drag the foreground into a dark frame to the left, right and bottom of a lighter and smaller middle distance, with a single tree growing out from a rocky shelf, and a paler far distant valley set against a triangle of evening sky.
He continues to talk quietly and carefully as though addressing a child, and these are the words he speaks:
Beatus ille, qui procul negotiis,
ut prisca ens mortlaium,
paterna rura bobus exercet suis,
salutus omni fenore;
nec exciatur classico miles truci,
nec horret iratum mare;
forumque vitat, et sperba civium
potentiorum limina.
Ergo aut adulta vitium propagine
altas maritat populos;
inutilesque falce ramos amputans,
feliciores inserit …
Small black flies surround his head and land on his ears, his eyes and his lips, but he appears neither to notice nor to mind.
Slowly first but then more profusely, blood begins to trickle from both his nostrils and down across his lips and onto his chin. From here it drips onto a white and embroidered linen garment he is wearing at his throat, eventually staining it a full deep burgundy red.
See 
Decoys.pdf
