{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_34704/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_34704","id":"gutenberg_34704","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/34704","summary":null,"tags":["Category: History - British","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Folklore -- Wales","Goblins -- Wales","Mythology, Celtic -- Wales","Mythology, Welsh","Wales -- Social life and customs"],"text":"Illustration captions in {curly brackets} have been added by the\ntranscriber for the convenience of the reader.\n\n\n\n\n               BRITISH GOBLINS:\n\n      _WELSH FOLK-LORE, FAIRY MYTHOLOGY,\n           LEGENDS AND TRADITIONS._\n\n                      BY\n\n                 WIRT SIKES,\n\n       UNITED STATES CONSUL FOR WALES.\n\n\n     WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY T. H. THOMAS.\n\n\n    In olde dayes of the Kyng Arthour ...\n    Al was this lond fulfilled of fayrie.\n                              CHAUCER.\n\n\n                   LONDON:\n  SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON, SEARLE, & RIVINGTON,\n      CROWN BUILDINGS, 188 FLEET STREET.\n                    1880.\n\n           [_All rights reserved._]\n\n\n\n\n                   LONDON:\n     PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS,\n      STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS.\n\n\n\n  [Illustration: THE OLD WOMAN OF THE MOUNTAIN.]\n\n\n\n\n                      TO\n\n             HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS,\n\n       ALBERT EDWARD, PRINCE OF WALES,\n\n               THIS ACCOUNT OF\n\n      THE FAIRY MYTHOLOGY AND FOLK-LORE\n             OF HIS PRINCIPALITY\n\n         IS BY PERMISSION DEDICATED.\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\nIn the ground it covers, while this volume deals especially with\nWales, and still more especially with South Wales--where there appear\nto have been human dwellers long before North Wales was peopled--it\nalso includes the border counties, notably Monmouthshire, which,\nthough severed from Wales by Act of Parliament, is really very Welsh\nin all that relates to the past. In Monmouthshire is the decayed\ncathedral city of Caerleon, where, according to tradition, Arthur was\ncrowned king in 508, and where he set up his most dazzling court, as\ntold in the 'Morte d'Arthur.'\n\nIn a certain sense Wales may be spoken of as the cradle of fairy\nlegend. It is not now disputed that from the Welsh were borrowed many\nof the first subjects of composition in the literature of all the\ncultivated peoples of Europe.\n\nThe Arthur of British history and tradition stands to Welshmen in much\nthe same light that Alfred the Great stands to Englishmen. Around this\nhistoric or semi-historic Arthur have gathered a throng of shining\nlegends of fabulous sort, with which English readers are more or less\nfamiliar. An even grander figure is the Arthur who existed in Welsh\nmythology before the birth of the warrior-king. The mythic Arthur, it\nis presumed, began his shadowy life in pre-historic ages, and grew\nprogressively in mythologic story, absorbing at a certain period the\npersonality of the real Arthur, and becoming the type of romantic\nchivalry. A similar state of things is indicated with regard to the\nenchanter Merlin; there was a mythic Merlin before the real Merlin was\nborn at Carmarthen.\n\nWith the rich mass of legendary lore to which these figures belong,\nthe present volume is not intended to deal; nor do its pages treat,\nsave in the most casual and passing manner, of the lineage and\noriginal significance of the lowly goblins which are its theme. The\nquestions here involved, and the task of adequately treating them,\nbelong to the comparative mythologist and the critical historian,\nrather than to the mere literary workman.\n\n    UNITED STATES CONSULATE, CARDIFF,\n            _August, 1879_.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\n    BOOK I.\n\n    THE REALM OF FAERIE.\n\n    CHAPTER I.\n\n                                                                  PAGE\n    Fairy Tales and the Ancient Mythology--The Compensations\n    of Science--Existing Belief in Fairies in Wales--The\n    Faith of Culture--The Credulity of Ignorance--The\n    Old-Time Welsh Fairyland--The Fairy King--The Legend of\n    St. Collen and Gwyn ap Nudd--The Green Meadows of the\n    Sea--Fairies at Market--The Land of Mystery                      1\n\n    CHAPTER II.\n\n    Classification of Welsh Fairies--General\n    Designation--Habits of the Tylwyth Teg--Ellyllon, or\n    Elves--Shakspeare's Use of Welsh Folk-Lore--Rowli Pugh\n    and the Ellyll--Household Story Roots--The\n    Ellylldan--The Pooka--Puck Valley, Breconshire--Where\n    Shakspeare got his Puck--Pwca'r Trwyn--Usual Form of the\n    Pooka Story--Coblynau, or Mine Fairies--The\n    Knockers--Miners' Superstitions--Basilisks and Fire\n    Fiends--A Fairy Coal-mine--The Dwarfs of Cae\n    Caled--Counterparts of the Coblynau--The Bwbach, or\n    Household Fairy--Legend of the Bwbach and the\n    Preacher--Bogies and Hobgoblins--Carrying Mortals\n    through the Air--Counterparts and Originals                     11\n\n    CHAPTER III.\n\n    Lake Fairies--The Gwragedd Annwn, or Dames of\n    Elfin-Land--St. Patrick and the Welshmen; a Legend of\n    Crumlyn Lake--The Elfin Cow of Llyn Barfog--Y Fuwch\n    Laethwen Lefrith--The Legend of the Meddygon\n    Myddfai--The Wife of Supernatural Race--The Three Blows;\n    a Carmarthenshire Legend--Cheese and the Didactic\n    Purpose in Welsh Folk-Lore--The Fairy Maiden's Papa--The\n    Enchanted Isle in the Mountain Lake--Legend of the Men\n    of Ardudwy--Origin of Water Fairies--Their prevalence in\n    many Lands                                                      34\n\n    CHAPTER IV.\n\n    Mountain Fairies--The Gwyllion--The Old Woman of the\n    Mountain--The Black Mountain Gwyll--Exorcism by\n    Knife--Occult Intellectual Powers of Welsh Goats--The\n    Legend of Cadwaladr's Goat                                      49\n\n    CHAPTER V.\n\n    Changelings--The Plentyn-newid--The Cruel Creed of\n    Ignorance regarding Changelings--Modes of Ridding the\n    House of the Fairy Child--The Legend of the Frugal\n    Meal--Legend of the Place of Strife--Dewi Dal and the\n    Fairies--Prevention of Fairy Kidnapping--Fairies caught\n    in the Act by Mothers--Piety as an Exorcism                     56\n\n    CHAPTER VI.\n\n    Living with the Tylwyth Teg--The Tale of Elidurus--Shui\n    Rhys and the Fairies--St. Dogmell's Parish,\n    Pembrokeshire--Dancing with the Ellyllon--The Legend of\n    Rhys and Llewellyn--Death from joining in the Fairy\n    Reel--Legend of the Bush of Heaven--The Forest of the\n    Magic Yew--The Tale of Twm and Iago--Taffy ap Sion, a\n    Legend of Pencader--The Traditions of Pant Shon\n    Shenkin--Tudur of Llangollen; the Legend of Nant yr\n    Ellyllon--Polly Williams and the Trefethin Elves--The\n    Fairies of Frennifawr--Curiosity Tales--The Fiend\n    Master--Iago ap Dewi--The Original of Rip Van Winkle            65\n\n    CHAPTER VII.\n\n    Fairy Music--Birds of Enchantment--The Legend of Shon ap\n    Shenkin--Harp-Music in Welsh Fairy Tales--Legend of the\n    Magic Harp--Songs and Tunes of the Tylwyth Teg--The\n    Legend of Iolo ap Hugh--Mystic Origin of an old Welsh\n    Air                                                             91\n\n    CHAPTER VIII.\n\n    Fairy Rings--The Prophet Jones and his Works--The\n    Mysterious Language of the Tylwyth Teg--The Horse in\n    Welsh Folk-Lore--Equestrian Fairies--Fairy Cattle,\n    Sheep, Swine, etc.--The Flying Fairies of Bedwellty--The\n    Fairy Sheepfold at Cae'r Cefn                                  103\n\n    CHAPTER IX.\n\n    Piety as a Protection from the Seductions of the Tylwyth\n    Teg--Various Exorcisms--Cock-crowing--The Name of\n    God--Fencing off the Fairies--Old Betty Griffith and her\n    Eithin Barricade--Means of Getting Rid of the Tylwyth\n    Teg--The Bwbach of the Hendrefawr Farm--The Pwca'r\n    Trwyn's Flitting in a Jug of Barm                              112\n\n    CHAPTER X.\n\n    Fairy Money and Fairy Gifts in General--The Story of\n    Gitto Bach, or Little Griffith--The Penalty of\n    Blabbing--Legends of the Shepherds of Cwm Llan--The\n    Money Value of Kindness--Ianto Llewellyn and the Tylwyth\n    Teg--The Legend of Hafod Lwyddog--Lessons inculcated by\n    these Superstitions                                            119\n\n    CHAPTER XI.\n\n    Origins of Welsh Fairies--The Realistic Theory--Legend\n    of the Baron's Gate--The Red Fairies--The Trwyn Fairy a\n    Proscribed Nobleman--The Theory of hiding Druids--Colour\n    in Welsh Fairy Attire--The Green Lady of\n    Caerphilly--White the favourite Welsh Hue--Legend of the\n    Prolific Woman--The Poetico-Religious Theory--The Creed\n    of Science                                                     127\n\n\n    BOOK II.\n\n    THE SPIRIT-WORLD.\n\n    CHAPTER I.\n\n    Modern Superstition regarding Ghosts--American\n    'Spiritualism'--Welsh Beliefs--Classification of Welsh\n    Ghosts--Departed Mortals--Haunted Houses--Lady\n    Stradling's Ghost--The Haunted Bridge--The Legend of\n    Catrin Gwyn--Didactic Purpose in Cambrian\n    Apparitions--An Insulted Corpse--Duty-performing\n    Ghosts--Laws of the Spirit-World--Cadogan's Ghost              137\n\n    CHAPTER II.\n\n    Household Ghosts and Hidden Treasures--The Miser of St.\n    Donat's--Anne Dewy's Ghost--The Ghost on\n    Horseback--Hidden Objects of Small Value--Transportation\n    through the Air--From Breconshire to Philadelphia, Pa.,\n    in Thirty-Six Hours--Sir David Llwyd, the Magician--The\n    Levitation of Walter Jones--Superstitions regarding\n    Hares--The Legend of Monacella's Lambs--Aerial\n    Transportation in Modern Spiritualism--Exorcising\n    Household Ghosts--The Story of Haunted Margaret                151\n\n    CHAPTER III.\n\n    Spectral Animals--The Chained Spirit--The Gwyllgi, or\n    Dog of Darkness--The Legend of Lisworney-Crossways--The\n    Gwyllgi of the Devil's Nags--The Dog of Pant y\n    Madog--Terrors of the Brute Creation at\n    Phantoms--Apparitions of Natural Objects--Phantom Ships\n    and Phantom Islands                                            167\n\n    CHAPTER IV.\n\n    Grotesque Ghosts--The Phantom Horseman--Gigantic\n    Spirits--The Black Ghost of Ffynon yr Yspryd--Black Men\n    in the Mabinogion--Whirling Ghosts--Antic Spirits--The\n    Tridoll Valley Ghost--Resemblance to Modern\n    Spiritualistic Performances--Household Fairies                 174\n\n    CHAPTER V.\n\n    Familiar Spirits--The Famous Sprite of Trwyn Farm--Was\n    it a Fairy?--The Familiar Spirits of Magicians--Sir\n    David Llwyd's Demon--Familiar Spirits in Female\n    Form--The Legend of the Lady of the Wood--The Devil as a\n    Familiar Spirit--His Disguises in this\n    Character--Summoning and Exorcising Familiars--Jenkin\n    the Pembrokeshire Schoolmaster--The Terrible Tailor of\n    Glanbran                                                       187\n\n    CHAPTER VI.\n\n    The Evil Spirit in his customary Form--The stupid\n    Medieval Devil in Wales--Sion Cent--The Devil\n    outwitted--Pacts with the Fiend and their\n    Avoidance--Sion Dafydd's Foul Pipe--The Devil's Bridge\n    and its Legends--Similar Legends in other Lands--The\n    Devil's Pulpit near Tintern--Angelic Spirits--Welsh\n    Superstitions as to pronouncing the Name of the Evil\n    Spirit--The Bardic Tradition of the Creation--The\n    Struggle between Light and Darkness and its\n    Symbolization                                                  202\n\n    CHAPTER VII.\n\n    Cambrian Death-Portents--The Corpse-Bird--The\n    Tan-Wedd--Listening at the Church-Door--The\n    Lledrith--The Gwrach y Rhibyn--The Llandaff\n    Gwrach--Ugliness of this Female Apparition--The Black\n    Maiden--The Cyhyraeth, or Crying Spirit--Its Moans on\n    Land and Sea--The St. Mellons Cyhyraeth--The Groaning\n    Spirit of Bedwellty                                            212\n\n    CHAPTER VIII.\n\n    The Tolaeth Death Portent--Its various Forms--The\n    Tolaeth before Death--Ewythr Jenkin's Tolaeth--A modern\n    Instance--The Railway Victim's Warning--The Goblin\n    Voice--The Voice from the Cloud--Legend of the Lord and\n    the Beggar--The Goblin Funeral--The Horse's Skull--The\n    Goblin Veil--The Wraith of Llanllwch--Dogs of Hell--The\n    Tale of Pwyll--Spiritual Hunting Dogs--Origin of the Cwn\n    Annwn                                                          225\n\n    CHAPTER IX.\n\n    The Corpse Candle--Its Peculiarities--The Woman of\n    Caerau--Grasping a Corpse Candle--The Crwys\n    Candle--Lights issuing from the Mouth--Jesting with the\n    Canwyll Corph--The Candle at Pontfaen--The Three Candles\n    at Golden Grove--Origin of Death-Portents in\n    Wales--Degree of Belief prevalent at the Present\n    Day--Origin of Spirits in General--The Supernatural--The\n    Question of a Future Life                                      238\n\n\n    BOOK III.\n\n    QUAINT OLD CUSTOMS.\n\n    CHAPTER I.\n\n    Serious Significance of seemingly Trivial Customs--Their\n    Origins--Common Superstitions--The Age we Live in--Days\n    and Seasons--New Year's Day--The Apple Gift--Lucky Acts\n    on New Year's Morning--The First Foot--Showmen's\n    Superstitions--Levy Dew Song--Happy New Year\n    Carol--Twelfth Night--The Mari Lwyd--The Penglog--The\n    Cutty Wren--Tooling and Sowling--St. Valentine's\n    Day--St. Dewi's Day--The Wearing of the Leek--The\n    Traditional St. David--St. Patrick's Day--St. Patrick a\n    Welshman--Shrove Tuesday                                       250\n\n    CHAPTER II.\n\n    Sundry Lenten Customs--Mothering Sunday--Palm\n    Sunday--Flowering Sunday--Walking Barefoot to\n    Church--Spiritual Potency of Buns--Good Friday\n    Superstitions--Making Christ's Bed--Bad Odour of\n    Friday--Unlucky Days--Holy Thursday--The Eagle of\n    Snowdon--New Clothing at Easter--Lifting--The Crown of\n    Porcelain--Stocsio--Ball-Playing in Churchyards--The\n    Tump of Lies--Dancing in Churchyards--Seeing the Sun\n    Dance--Calan Ebrill, or All Fools' Day--May Day--The\n    Welsh Maypole--The Daughter of Lludd Llaw\n    Ereint--Carrying the Kings of Summer and Winter                266\n\n    CHAPTER III.\n\n    Midsummer Eve--The Druidic Ceremonies at Pontypridd--The\n    Snake Stone--Beltane Fires--Fourth of July Fires in\n    America--St. Ulric's Day--Carrying Cynog--Marketing on\n    Tombstones--The First Night of Winter--The Three Nights\n    for Spirits--The Tale of Thomas Williams the\n    Preacher--All Hallows Eve Festivities--Running through\n    Fire--Quaint Border Rhymes--The Puzzling Jug--Bobbing\n    for Apples--The Fiery Features of Guy Fawkes' Day--St.\n    Clement's Day--Stripping the Carpenter                         277\n\n    CHAPTER IV.\n\n    Nadolig, the Welsh\n    Christmas--Bell-Ringing--Carols--Dancing to the Music of\n    the Waits--An Evening in Carmarthenshire--Shenkin Harry,\n    the Preacher, and the Jig Tune--Welsh\n    Morality--Eisteddfodau--Decorating Houses and\n    Churches--The Christmas Thrift-box--The Colliers'\n    Star--The Plygain--Pagan Origin of Christmas Customs           286\n\n    CHAPTER V.\n\n    Courtship and Marriage--Planting Weeds and Rue on the\n    Graves of Old Bachelors--Special Significance of Flowers\n    in connection with Virginity--The Welsh Venus--Bundling,\n    or Courting Abed--Kissing Schools--Rhamanta--Lovers'\n    Superstitions--The Maid's Trick--Dreaming on a Mutton\n    Bone--Wheat and Shovel--Garters in a Lovers'\n    Knot--Egg-Shell Cake--Sowing Leeks--Twca and Sheath            298\n\n    CHAPTER VI.\n\n    Wedding Customs--The Bidding--Forms of Cymmhorth--The\n    Gwahoddwr--Horse-Weddings--Stealing a\n    Bride--Obstructions to the Bridal Party--The\n    Gwyntyn--Chaining--Evergreen Arches--Strewing\n    Flowers--Throwing Rice and Shoes--Rosemary in the\n    Garden--Names after Marriage--The Coolstrin--The Ceffyl\n    Pren                                                           306\n\n    CHAPTER VII.\n\n    Death and Burial--The Gwylnos--Beer-drinking at Welsh\n    Funerals--Food and Drink over the Coffin--Sponge Cakes\n    at Modern Funerals--The Sin-eater--Welsh Denial that\n    this Custom ever existed--The Testimony concerning\n    it--Superstitions regarding Salt--Plate of Salt on\n    Corpse's Breast--The Scapegoat--The St. Tegla Cock and\n    Hen--Welsh Funeral Processions--Praying at\n    Cross-roads--Superstition regarding Criminals'\n    Graves--Hanging and Welsh Prejudice--The Grassless\n    Grave--Parson's Penny, or Offrwm--Old Shoes to the\n    Clerk--Arian y Rhaw, or Spade Money--Burials without\n    Coffin--The Sul Coffa--Planting and Strewing Graves with\n    Flowers                                                        321\n\n\n    BOOK IV.\n\n    BELLS, WELLS, STONES, AND DRAGONS.\n\n    CHAPTER I.\n\n    Base of the Primeval Mythology--Bells and their\n    Ghosts--The Bell that committed Murder and was damned\n    for it--The Occult Powers of Bells--Their Work as\n    Detectives, Doctors, etc.--Legend of the Bell of\n    Rhayader--St. Illtyd's Wonderful Bell--The Golden Bell\n    of Llandaff                                                    338\n\n    CHAPTER II.\n\n    Mystic Wells--Their Good and Bad Dispositions--St.\n    Winifred's Well--The Legend of St.\n    Winifred--Miracles--St. Tecla's Well--St.\n    Dwynwen's--Curing Love-sickness--St. Cynfran's--St.\n    Cynhafal's--Throwing Pins in Wells--Warts--Barry Island\n    and its Legends--Ffynon Gwynwy--Propitiatory Gifts to\n    Wells--The Dreadful Cursing Well of St. Elian's--Wells\n    Flowing with Milk--St. Illtyd's--Taff's Well--Sanford's\n    Well--Origins of Superstitions of this Class                   345\n\n    CHAPTER III.\n\n    Personal Attributes of Legendary Welsh Stones--Stone\n    Worship--Canna's Stone Chair--Miraculous Removals of\n    Stones--The Walking Stone of Eitheinn--The Thigh\n    Stone--The Talking Stone in Pembrokeshire--The Expanding\n    Stone--Magic Stones in the 'Mabinogion'--The Stone of\n    Invisibility--The Stone of Remembrance--Stone\n    Thief-catchers--Stones of Healing--Stones at\n    Cross-roads--Memorials of King Arthur--Round Tables,\n    Carns, Pots, etc.--Arthur's Quoits--The Gigantic\n    Rock-tossers of Old--Mol Walbec and the Pebble in her\n    Shoe--The Giant of Trichrug--Giants and the Mythology of\n    the Heavens--The Legend of Rhitta Gawr                         361\n\n    CHAPTER IV.\n\n    Early Inscribed Stones--The Stone Pillar of Banwan\n    Bryddin, near Neath--Catastrophe accompanying its\n    Removal--The Sagranus Stone and the White Lady--The\n    Dancing Stones of Stackpool--Human Beings changed to\n    Stones--St. Ceyna and the Serpents--The Devil's Stone at\n    Llanarth--Rocking Stones and their accompanying\n    Superstitions--The Suspended Altar of\n    Loin-Garth--Cromlechs and their Fairy Legends--The\n    Fairies' Castle at St. Nicholas, Glamorganshire--The\n    Stone of the Wolf Bitch--The Welsh\n    Melusina--Parc-y-Bigwrn Cromlech--Connection of these\n    Stones with Ancient Druidism                                   373\n\n    CHAPTER V.\n\n    Baleful Spirits of Storm--The Shower at the Magic\n    Fountain--Obstacles in the way of Treasure-Seekers--The\n    Red Lady of Paviland--The Fall of Coychurch\n    Tower--Thunder and Lightning evoked by Digging--The\n    Treasure-Chest under Moel Arthur in the Vale of\n    Clwyd--Modern Credulity--The Cavern of the Ravens--The\n    Eagle-guarded Coffer of Castell Coch--Sleeping Warriors\n    as Treasure-Guarders--The Dragon which St. Samson drove\n    out of Wales--Dragons in the Mabinogion--Whence came the\n    Red Dragon of Wales?--The Original Dragon of\n    Mythology--Prototypes of the Welsh Caverns and\n    Treasure-Hills--The Goblins of Electricity                     385\n\n  [Illustration: {FAIRIES.}]\n\n\n\n\nBRITISH GOBLINS.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK I.\n\nTHE REALM OF FAERIE.\n\n    At eve, the primrose path along,\n    The milkmaid shortens with a song\n          Her solitary way;\n    She sees the fairies with their queen\n    Trip hand-in-hand the circled green,\n    And hears them raise, at times unseen,\n          The ear-enchanting lay.\n                    REV. JOHN LOGAN: _Ode to Spring_, 1780.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\n    Fairy Tales and the Ancient Mythology--The Compensations of\n    Science--Existing Belief in Fairies in Wales--The Faith of\n    Culture--The Credulity of Ignorance--The Old-Time Welsh\n    Fairyland--The Fairy King--The Legend of St. Collen and Gwyn\n    ap Nudd--The Green Meadows of the Sea--Fairies at\n    Market--The Land of Mystery.\n\n\nI.\n\nWith regard to other divisions of the field of folk-lore, the views of\nscholars differ, but in the realm of faerie these differences are\nreconciled; it is agreed that fairy tales are relics of the ancient\nmythology; and the philosophers stroll hand in hand harmoniously. This\nis as it should be, in a realm about which cluster such delightful\nmemories of the most poetic period of life--childhood, before\nscepticism has crept in as ignorance slinks out. The knowledge which\nintroduced scepticism is infinitely more valuable than the faith it\ndisplaced; but, in spite of that, there be few among us who have not\nfelt evanescent regrets for the displacement by the _foi scientifique_\nof the old faith in fairies. There was something so peculiarly\nfascinating in that old belief, that 'once upon a time' the world was\nless practical in its facts than now, less commonplace and humdrum,\nless subject to the inexorable laws of gravitation, optics, and the\nlike. What dramas it has yielded! What poems, what dreams, what\ndelights!\n\nBut since the knowledge of our maturer years destroys all that, it is\nwith a degree of satisfaction we can turn to the consolations of the\nfairy mythology. The beloved tales of old are 'not true'--but at least\nthey are not mere idle nonsense, and they have a good and sufficient\nreason for being in the world; we may continue to respect them. The\nwit who observed that the final cause of fairy legends is 'to afford\nsport for people who ruthlessly track them to their origin,'[1]\nexpressed a grave truth in jocular form. Since one can no longer rest\nin peace with one's ignorance, it is a comfort to the lover of fairy\nlegends to find that he need not sweep them into the grate as so much\nrubbish; on the contrary they become even more enchanting in the\ncrucible of science than they were in their old character.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[1] 'Saturday Review,' October 20, 1877.\n\n\nII.\n\nAmong the vulgar in Wales, the belief in fairies is less nearly\nextinct than casual observers would be likely to suppose. Even\neducated people who dwell in Wales, and have dwelt there all their\nlives, cannot always be classed as other than casual observers in this\nfield. There are some such residents who have paid special attention\nto the subject, and have formed an opinion as to the extent of\nprevalence of popular credulity herein; but most Welsh people of the\neducated class, I find, have no opinion, beyond a vague surprise that\nthe question should be raised at all. So lately as the year 1858, a\nlearned writer in the 'Archaeologia Cambrensis' declared that 'the\ntraveller may now pass from one end of the Principality to the other,\nwithout his being shocked or amused, as the case may be, by any of the\nfairy legends or popular tales which used to pass current from father\nto son.' But in the same periodical, eighteen years later, I find Mr.\nJohn Walter Lukis (President of the Cardiff Naturalists' Society),\nasserting with regard to the cromlechs, tumuli, and ancient camps in\nGlamorganshire: 'There are always fairy tales and ghost stories\nconnected with them; some, though _fully believed in_ by the\ninhabitants of those localities, are often of the most absurd\ncharacter; in fact, the more ridiculous they are, the more they are\nbelieved in.'[2] My own observation leads me to support the testimony\nof the last-named witness. Educated Europeans generally conceive that\nthis sort of belief is extinct in their own land, or, at least their\nown immediate section of that land. They accredit such degree of\nbelief as may remain, in this enlightened age, to some remote part--to\nthe south, if they dwell in the north; to the north, if they dwell in\nthe south. But especially they accredit it to a previous age: in\nWales, to last century, or the middle ages, or the days of King\nArthur. The rector of Merthyr, being an elderly man, accredits it to\nhis youth. 'I am old enough to remember,' he wrote me under date of\nJanuary 30th, 1877, 'that these tales were thoroughly believed in\namong country folk forty or fifty years ago.' People of superior\nculture have held this kind of faith concerning fairy-lore, it seems\nto me, in every age, except the more remote. Chaucer held it, almost\nfive centuries ago, and wrote:[3]\n\n    In olde dayes of the Kyng Arthour, ...\n    Al was this lond fulfilled of fayrie; ...\n    I speke of many hundrid yer ago;\n    But now can no man see non elves mo.\n\nDryden held it, two hundred years later, and said of the fairies:\n\n    I speak of ancient times, for now the swain\n    Returning late may pass the woods in vain,\n    And never hope to see the nightly train.\n\nIn all later days, other authors have written the same sort of thing;\nit is not thus now, say they, but it was recently thus. The truth,\nprobably, is that if you will but sink down to the level of common\nlife, of ignorant life, especially in rural neighbourhoods, there you\nwill find the same old beliefs prevailing, in about the same degree to\nwhich they have ever prevailed, within the past five hundred years. To\nsink to this level successfully, one must become a living unit in that\nlife, as I have done in Wales and elsewhere, from time to time. Then\none will hear the truth from, or at least the true sentiments of, the\nclass he seeks to know. The practice of every generation in thus\nrelegating fairy belief to a date just previous to its own does not\napply, however, to superstitious beliefs in general; for, concerning\nmany such beliefs, their greater or less prevalence at certain dates\n(as in the history of witchcraft) is matter of well-ascertained fact.\nI confine the argument, for the present, strictly to the domain of\nfaerie. In this domain, the prevalent belief in Wales may be said to\nrest with the ignorant, to be strongest in rural and mining\ndistricts, to be childlike and poetic, and to relate to anywhere\nexcept the spot where the speaker dwells--as to the next parish, to\nthe next county, to the distant mountains, or to the shadow-land of\nGwerddonau Llion, the green meadows of the sea.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[2] 'Archaeologia Cambrensis,' 4th Se., vi., 174.\n\n[3] 'Wyf of Bathes Tale,' 'Canterbury Tales.'\n\n\nIII.\n\nIn Arthur's day and before that, the people of South Wales regarded\nNorth Wales as pre-eminently the land of faerie. In the popular\nimagination, that distant country was the chosen abode of giants,\nmonsters, magicians, and all the creatures of enchantment. Out of it\ncame the fairies, on their visits to the sunny land of the south. The\nchief philosopher of that enchanted region was a giant who sat on a\nmountain peak and watched the stars. It had a wizard monarch called\nGwydion, who possessed the power of changing himself into the\nstrangest possible forms. The peasant who dwelt on the shores of Dyfed\n(Demetia) saw in the distance, beyond the blue waves of the ocean,\nshadowy mountain summits piercing the clouds, and guarding this mystic\nregion in solemn majesty. Thence rolled down upon him the storm-clouds\nfrom the home of the tempest; thence streamed up the winter sky the\nflaming banners of the Northern lights; thence rose through the\nillimitable darkness on high, the star-strewn pathway of the fairy\nking. These details are current in the Mabinogion, those brilliant\nstories of Welsh enchantment, so gracefully done into English by Lady\nCharlotte Guest,[4] and it is believed that all the Mabinogion in\nwhich these details were found were written in Dyfed. This was the\nregion on the west, now covered by Pembroke, Carmarthen, and Cardigan\nshires.\n\nMore recently than the time above indicated, special traditions have\nlocated fairyland in the Vale of Neath, in Glamorganshire. Especially\ndoes a certain steep and rugged crag there, called Craig y Ddinas,\nbear a distinctly awful reputation as a stronghold of the fairy\ntribe.[5] Its caves and crevices have been their favourite haunt for\nmany centuries, and upon this rock was held the court of the last\nfairies who have ever appeared in Wales. Needless to say there are men\nstill living who remember the visits of the fairies to Craig y Ddinas,\nalthough they aver the little folk are no longer seen there. It is a\ncommon remark that the Methodists drove them away; indeed, there are\nnumberless stories which show the fairies to have been animated, when\nthey were still numerous in Wales, by a cordial antipathy for all\ndissenting preachers. In this antipathy, it may be here observed,\nteetotallers were included.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[4] 'The Mabinogion, from the Welsh of the Llyfr Coch o Hergest.'\nTranslated, with notes, by Lady Charlotte Guest. (New Edition, London,\n1877.)\n\n[5] There are two hills in Glamorganshire called by this name, and\nothers elsewhere in Wales.\n\n\nIV.\n\nThe sovereign of the fairies, and their especial guardian and\nprotector, was one Gwyn ap Nudd. He was also ruler over the goblin\ntribe in general. His name often occurs in ancient Welsh poetry. An\nold bard of the fourteenth century, who, led away by the fairies, rode\ninto a turf bog on a mountain one dark night, called it the 'fish-pond\nof Gwyn ap Nudd, a palace for goblins and their tribe.' The\nassociation of this legendary character with the goblin fame of the\nVale of Neath will appear, when it is mentioned that Nudd in Welsh is\npronounced simply Neath, and not otherwise. As for the fairy queen,\nshe does not seem to have any existence among Cambrian goblins. It is\nnevertheless thought by Cambrian etymologists, that Morgana is derived\nfrom Mor Gwyn, the white maid; and the Welsh proper name Morgan can\nhardly fail to be mentioned in this connection, though it is not\nnecessarily significant.\n\nThe legend of St. Collen, in which Gwyn ap Nudd figures, represents\nhim as king of Annwn (hell, or the shadow land) as well as of the\nfairies.[6] Collen was passing a period of mortification as a hermit,\nin a cell under a rock on a mountain. There he one day overheard two\nmen talking about Gwyn ap Nudd, and giving him this twofold kingly\ncharacter. Collen cried out to the men to go away and hold their\ntongues, instead of talking about devils. For this Collen was rebuked,\nas the king of fairyland had an objection to such language. The saint\nwas summoned to meet the king on the hill-top at noon, and after\nrepeated refusals, he finally went there; but he carried a flask of\nholy water with him. 'And when he came there he saw the fairest castle\nhe had ever beheld, and around it the best appointed troops, and\nnumbers of minstrels and every kind of music of voice and string, and\nsteeds with youths upon them, the comeliest in the world, and maidens\nof elegant aspect, sprightly, light of foot, of graceful apparel, and\nin the bloom of youth; and every magnificence becoming the court of a\npuissant sovereign. And he beheld a courteous man on the top of the\ncastle who bade him enter, saying that the king was waiting for him to\ncome to meat. And Collen went into the castle, and when he came there\nthe king was sitting in a golden chair. And he welcomed Collen\nhonourably, and desired him to eat, assuring him that besides what he\nsaw, he should have the most luxurious of every dainty and delicacy\nthat the mind could desire, and should be supplied with every drink\nand liquor that the heart could wish; and that there should be in\nreadiness for him every luxury of courtesy and service, of banquet and\nof honourable entertainment, of rank and of presents, and every\nrespect and welcome due to a man of his wisdom. \"I will not eat the\nleaves of the trees,\" said Collen. \"Didst thou ever see men of better\nequipment than these of red and blue?\" asked the king. \"Their\nequipment is good enough,\" said Collen, \"for such equipment as it is.\"\n\"What kind of equipment is that?\" said the king. Then said Collen,\n\"The red on the one part signifies burning, and the blue on the other\nsignifies coldness.\" And with that Collen drew out his flask and threw\nthe holy water on their heads, whereupon they vanished from his sight,\nso that there was neither castle nor troops, nor men, nor maidens, nor\nmusic, nor song, nor steeds, nor youths, nor banquet, nor the\nappearance of anything whatever but the green hillocks.'\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[6] 'Greal' (8vo. London, 1805), p. 337.\n\n\nV.\n\nA third form of Welsh popular belief as to the whereabouts of\nfairyland corresponds with the Avalon of the Arthurian legends. The\ngreen meadows of the sea, called in the triads Gwerddonau Llion, are\nthe\n\n                    Green fairy islands, reposing,\n    In sunlight and beauty on ocean's calm breast.[7]\n\nMany extraordinary superstitions survive with regard to these islands.\nThey were supposed to be the abode of the souls of certain Druids,\nwho, not holy enough to enter the heaven of the Christians, were still\nnot wicked enough to be condemned to the tortures of annwn, and so\nwere accorded a place in this romantic sort of purgatorial paradise.\nIn the fifth century a voyage was made, by the British king Gavran, in\nsearch of these enchanted islands; with his family he sailed away into\nthe unknown waters, and was never heard of more. This voyage is\ncommemorated in the triads as one of the Three Losses by\nDisappearance, the two others being Merlin's and Madog's. Merlin\nsailed away in a ship of glass; Madog sailed in search of America; and\nneither returned, but both disappeared for ever. In Pembrokeshire and\nsouthern Carmarthenshire are to be found traces of this belief. There\nare sailors on that romantic coast who still talk of the green meadows\nof enchantment lying in the Irish channel to the west of\nPembrokeshire. Sometimes they are visible to the eyes of mortals for a\nbrief space, when suddenly they vanish. There are traditions of\nsailors who, in the early part of the present century, actually went\nashore on the fairy islands--not knowing that they were such, until\nthey returned to their boats, when they were filled with awe at seeing\nthe islands disappear from their sight, neither sinking in the sea,\nnor floating away upon the waters, but simply vanishing suddenly. The\nfairies inhabiting these islands are said to have regularly attended\nthe markets at Milford Haven and Laugharne. They made their purchases\nwithout speaking, laid down their money and departed, always leaving\nthe exact sum required, which they seemed to know, without asking the\nprice of anything. Sometimes they were invisible, but they were often\nseen, by sharp-eyed persons. There was always one special butcher at\nMilford Haven upon whom the fairies bestowed their patronage, instead\nof distributing their favours indiscriminately. The Milford Haven\nfolk could see the green fairy islands distinctly, lying out a short\ndistance from land; and the general belief was that they were densely\npeopled with fairies. It was also said that the latter went to and fro\nbetween the islands and the shore through a subterranean gallery under\nthe bottom of the sea.\n\n  [Illustration: FAIRIES MARKETING AT LAUGHARNE.]\n\nThat isolated cape which forms the county of Pembroke was looked upon\nas a land of mystery by the rest of Wales long after it had been\nsettled by the Flemings in 1113. A secret veil was supposed to cover\nthis sea-girt promontory; the inhabitants talked in an unintelligible\njargon that was neither English, nor French, nor Welsh; and out of its\nmisty darkness came fables of wondrous sort, and accounts of miracles\nmarvellous beyond belief. Mythology and Christianity spoke together\nfrom this strange country, and one could not tell at which to be most\namazed, the pagan or the priest.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[7] Parry's 'Welsh Melodies.'\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\n    Classification of Welsh Fairies--General Designation--Habits\n    of the Tylwyth Teg--Ellyllon, or Elves--Shakspeare's Use of\n    Welsh Folk-Lore--Rowli Pugh and the Ellyll--Household Story\n    Roots--The Ellylldan--The Pooka--Puck Valley,\n    Breconshire--Where Shakspeare got his Puck--Pwca'r\n    Trwyn--Usual Form of the Pooka Story--Coblynau, or Mine\n    Fairies--The Knockers--Miners' Superstitions--Basilisks and\n    Fire Fiends--A Fairy Coal-mine--The Dwarfs of Cae\n    Caled--Counterparts of the Coblynau--The Bwbach, or\n    Household Fairy--Legend of the Bwbach and the\n    Preacher--Bogies and Hobgoblins--Carrying Mortals through\n    the Air--Counterparts and Originals.\n\n\nI.\n\nFairies being creatures of the imagination, it is not possible to\nclassify them by fixed and immutable rules. In the exact sciences,\nthere are laws which never vary, or if they vary, their very\neccentricity is governed by precise rules. Even in the largest sense,\ncomparative mythology must demean itself modestly in order to be\ntolerated in the severe company of the sciences. In presenting his\nsubjects, therefore, the writer in this field can only govern himself\nby the purpose of orderly arrangement. To secure the maximum of\nsystem, for the sake of the student who employs the work for reference\nand comparison, with the minimum of dullness, for the sake of the\ngeneral reader, is perhaps the limit of a reasonable ambition.\nKeightley[8] divides into four classes the Scandinavian elements of\npopular belief as to fairies, viz.: 1. The Elves; 2. The Dwarfs, or\nTrolls; 3. The Nisses; and 4. The Necks, Mermen, and Mermaids. How\nentirely arbitrary this division is, the student of Scandinavian\nfolk-lore at once perceives. Yet it is perhaps as satisfactory as\nanother. The fairies of Wales may be divided into five classes, if\nanalogy be not too sharply insisted on. Thus we have, 1. The Ellyllon,\nor elves; 2. The Coblynau, or mine fairies; 3. The Bwbachod, or\nhousehold fairies; 4. The Gwragedd Annwn, or fairies of the lakes and\nstreams; and 5. The Gwyllion, or mountain fairies.\n\nThe modern Welsh name for fairies is y Tylwyth Teg, the fair folk or\nfamily. This is sometimes lengthened into y Tylwyth Teg yn y Coed, the\nfair family in the wood, or Tylwyth Teg y Mwn, the fair folk of the\nmine. They are seen dancing in moonlight nights on the velvety grass,\nclad in airy and flowing robes of blue, green, white, or\nscarlet--details as to colour not usually met, I think, in accounts of\nfairies. They are spoken of as bestowing blessings on those mortals\nwhom they select to be thus favoured; and again are called Bendith y\nMamau, or their mother's blessing, that is to say, good little\nchildren whom it is a pleasure to know. To name the fairies by a harsh\nepithet is to invoke their anger; to speak of them in flattering\nphrase is to propitiate their good offices. The student of fairy\nmythology perceives in this propitiatory mode of speech a fact of wide\nsignificance. It can be traced in numberless lands, and back to the\nbeginning of human history, among the cloud-hung peaks of Central\nAsia. The Greeks spoke of the furies as the Eumenides, or gracious\nones; Highlanders mentioned by Sir Walter Scott uncover to the gibbet\nand call it 'the kind gallows;' the Dayak will not name the small-pox,\nbut calls it 'the chief;' the Laplander calls the bear 'the old man\nwith the fur coat;' in Ammam the tiger is called 'grandfather;' and it\nis thought that the maxim, 'Speak only good of the dead,' came\noriginally from the notion of propitiating the ghost of the\ndeparted,[9] who, in laying off this mortal garb, had become endowed\nwith new powers of harming his late acquaintance.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[8] 'Fairy Mythology' (Bohn's Ed.), 78.\n\n[9] John Fiske, 'Myths and Myth-makers,' 223.\n\n\nII.\n\nThe Ellyllon are the pigmy elves who haunt the groves and valleys, and\ncorrespond pretty closely with the English elves. The English name was\nprobably derived from the Welsh _el_, a spirit, _elf_, an element;\nthere is a whole brood of words of this class in the Welsh language,\nexpressing every variety of flowing, gliding, spirituality, devilry,\nangelhood, and goblinism. Ellyllon (the plural of ellyll), is also\ndoubtless allied with the Hebrew Elilim, having with it an identity\nboth of origin and meaning.[10] The poet Davydd ab Gwilym, in a\nhumorous account of his troubles in a mist, in the year 1340, says:\n\n    Yr ydoedd ym mhob gobant\n    Ellyllon mingeimion gant.\n\n    There was in every hollow\n    A hundred wrymouthed elves.\n\nThe hollows, or little dingles, are still the places where the\npeasant, belated on his homeward way from fair or market, looks for\nthe ellyllon, but fails to find them. Their food is specified in Welsh\nfolk-lore as fairy butter and fairy victuals, ymenyn tylwyth teg and\nbwyd ellyllon; the latter the toadstool, or poisonous mushroom, and\nthe former a butter-resembling substance found at great depths in the\ncrevices of limestone rocks, in sinking for lead ore. Their gloves,\nmenyg ellyllon, are the bells of the digitalis, or fox-glove, the\nleaves of which are well known to be a strong sedative. Their\nqueen--for though there is no fairy-queen in the large sense that Gwyn\nap Nudd is the fairy-king, there is a queen of the elves--is none\nother than the Shakspearean fairy spoken of by Mercutio, who comes\n\n    In shape no bigger than an agate-stone\n    On the forefinger of an alderman.[11]\n\nShakspeare's use of Welsh folk-lore, it should be noted, was extensive\nand peculiarly faithful. Keightley in his 'Fairy Mythology' rates the\nbard soundly for his inaccurate use of English fairy superstitions;\nbut the reproach will not apply as regards Wales. From his Welsh\ninformant Shakspeare got Mab, which is simply the Cymric for a little\nchild, and the root of numberless words signifying babyish, childish,\nlove for children (mabgar), kitten (mabgath), prattling (mabiaith),\nand the like, most notable of all which in this connection is\nmabinogi, the singular of Mabinogion, the romantic tales of\nenchantment told to the young in by-gone ages.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[10] Pughe's 'Welsh Dictionary.' (Denbigh, 1866.)\n\n[11] 'Romeo and Juliet,' Act II., Sc. 4.\n\n\nIII.\n\nIn the Huntsman's Rest Inn at Peterstone-super-Ely, near Cardiff, sat\na group of humble folk one afternoon, when I chanced to stop there to\nrest myself by the chimney-side, after a long walk through green\nlanes. The men were drinking their tankards of ale and smoking their\nlong clay pipes; and they were talking about their dogs and horses,\nthe crops, the hard times, and the prospect of bettering themselves by\nemigration to America. On this latter theme I was able to make myself\ninteresting, and acquaintance was thereupon easily established on a\nfriendly footing. I led the conversation into the domain of folk-lore;\nand this book is richer in illustration on many a page, in\nconsequence. Among others, this tale was told:\n\nOn a certain farm in Glamorganshire lived Rowli Pugh, who was known\nfar and wide for his evil luck. Nothing prospered that he turned his\nhand to; his crops proved poor, though his neighbours' might be good;\nhis roof leaked in spite of all his mending; his walls remained damp\nwhen every one else's walls were dry; and above all, his wife was so\nfeeble she could do no work. His fortunes at last seemed so hard that\nhe resolved to sell out and clear out, no matter at what loss, and try\nto better himself in another country--not by going to America, for\nthere was no America in those days. Well, and if there was, the poor\nWelshman didn't know it. So as Rowli was sitting on his wall one day,\nhard by his cottage, musing over his sad lot, he was accosted by a\nlittle man who asked him what was the matter. Rowli looked around in\nsurprise, but before he could answer the ellyll said to him with a\ngrin, 'There, there, hold your tongue, I know more about you than you\never dreamed of knowing. You're in trouble, and you're going away. But\nyou may stay, now I've spoken to you. Only bid your good wife leave\nthe candle burning when she goes to bed, and say no more about it.'\nWith this the ellyll kicked up his heels and disappeared. Of course\nthe farmer did as he was bid, and from that day he prospered. Every\nnight Catti Jones, his wife,[12] set the candle out, swept the hearth,\nand went to bed; and every night the fairies would come and do her\nbaking and brewing, her washing and mending, sometimes even furnishing\ntheir own tools and materials. The farmer was now always clean of\nlinen and whole of garb; he had good bread and good beer; he felt like\na new man, and worked like one. Everything prospered with him now as\nnothing had before. His crops were good, his barns were tidy, his\ncattle were sleek, his pigs the fattest in the parish. So things went\non for three years. One night Catti Jones took it into her head that\nshe must have a peep at the fair family who did her work for her; and\ncuriosity conquering prudence, she arose while Rowli Pugh lay snoring,\nand peeped through a crack in the door. There they were, a jolly\ncompany of ellyllon, working away like mad, and laughing and dancing\nas madly as they worked. Catti was so amused that in spite of herself\nshe fell to laughing too; and at sound of her voice the ellyllon\nscattered like mist before the wind, leaving the room empty. They\nnever came back any more; but the farmer was now prosperous, and his\nbad luck never returned to plague him.\n\n  [Illustration: ROWLI AND THE ELLYLL.]\n\nThe resemblance of this tale to many he has encountered will at once\nbe noted by the student of comparative folk-lore. He will also observe\nthat it trenches on the domain of another class in my own enumeration,\nviz., that of the Bwbach, or household fairy. This is the stone over\nwhich one is constantly stumbling in this field of scientific\nresearch. Mr. Baring-Gould's idea that all household tales are\nreducible to a primeval root (in the same or a similar manner that we\ntrace words to their roots), though most ingeniously illustrated by\nhim, is constantly involved in trouble of the sort mentioned. He\nencounters the obstacle which lies in the path of all who walk this\nway. His roots sometimes get inextricably gnarled and intertwisted\nwith each other. But some effort of this sort is imperative, and we\nmust do the best we can with our materials. Stories of the class of\nGrimm's Witchelmaenner (Kinder und Hausmaerchen) will be recalled by the\nlegend of Rowli Pugh as here told. The German Hausmaenner are elves of\na domestic turn, sometimes mischievous and sometimes useful, but\nusually looking for some material reward for their labours. So with\nthe English goblin named by Milton in 'L'Allegro,' which drudges,\n\n    To earn his cream-bowl duly set.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[12] Until recently, Welsh women retained their maiden names even\nafter marriage.\n\n\nIV.\n\nThe Ellylldan is a species of elf exactly corresponding to the English\nWill-o'-wisp, the Scandinavian Lyktgubhe, and the Breton Sand Yan y\nTad. The Welsh word dan means fire; dan also means a lure; the\ncompound word suggests a luring elf-fire. The Breton Sand Yan y Tad\n(St. John and Father)[13] is a double ignis fatuus fairy, carrying at\nits finger-ends five lights, which spin round like a wheel. The\nnegroes of the southern seaboard states of America invest this goblin\nwith an exaggeration of the horrible peculiarly their own. They call\nit Jack-muh-lantern, and describe it as a hideous creature five feet\nin height, with goggle-eyes and huge mouth, its body covered with long\nhair, and which goes leaping and bounding through the air like a\ngigantic grasshopper. This frightful apparition is stronger than any\nman, and swifter than any horse, and compels its victims to follow it\ninto the swamp, where it leaves them to die.\n\nLike all goblins of this class, the Ellylldan was, of course, seen\ndancing about in marshy grounds, into which it led the belated\nwanderer; but, as a distinguished resident in Wales has wittily said,\nthe poor elf 'is now starved to death, and his breath is taken from\nhim; his light is quenched for ever by the improving farmer, who has\ndrained the bog; and, instead of the rank decaying vegetation of the\nautumn, where bitterns and snipes delighted to secrete themselves,\ncrops of corn and potatoes are grown.'[14]\n\nA poetic account by a modern character, called Iolo the Bard, is thus\ncondensed: 'One night, when the moon had gone down, as I was sitting\non a hill-top, the Ellylldan passed by. I followed it into the valley.\nWe crossed plashes of water where the tops of bulrushes peeped above,\nand where the lizards lay silently on the surface, looking at us with\nan unmoved stare. The frogs sat croaking and swelling their sides, but\nceased as they raised a melancholy eye at the Ellylldan. The wild\nfowl, sleeping with their heads under their wings, made a low cackle\nas we went by. A bittern awoke and rose with a scream into the air. I\nfelt the trail of the eels and leeches peering about, as I waded\nthrough the pools. On a slimy stone a toad sat sucking poison from the\nnight air. The Ellylldan glowed bravely in the slumbering vapours. It\nrose airily over the bushes that drooped in the ooze. When I lingered\nor stopped, it waited for me, but dwindled gradually away to a speck\nbarely perceptible. But as soon as I moved on again, it would shoot up\nsuddenly and glide before. A bat came flying round and round us,\nflapping its wings heavily. Screech-owls stared silently at us with\ntheir broad eyes. Snails and worms crawled about. The fine threads of\na spider's web gleamed in the light of the Ellylldan. Suddenly it shot\naway from me, and in the distance joined a ring of its fellows, who\nwent dancing slowly round and round in a goblin dance, which sent me\noff to sleep.'[15]\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[13] Keightley, 'Fairy Mythology,' 441.\n\n[14] Hon. W. O. Stanley, M.P., in 'Notes and Queries.'\n\n[15] 'The Vale of Glamorgan.' (London, 1839.)\n\n\nV.\n\nPwca, or Pooka, is but another name for the Ellylldan, as our Puck is\nanother name for the Will-o'-wisp; but in both cases the shorter term\nhas a more poetic flavour and a wider latitude. The name Puck was\noriginally applied to the whole race of English fairies, and there\nstill be few of the realm who enjoy a wider popularity than Puck, in\nspite of his mischievous attributes. Part of this popularity is due to\nthe poets, especially to Shakspeare. I have alluded to the bard's\naccurate knowledge of Welsh folk-lore; the subject is really one of\nunique interest, in view of the inaccuracy charged upon him as to the\nEnglish fairyland. There is a Welsh tradition to the effect that\nShakspeare received his knowledge of the Cambrian fairies from his\nfriend Richard Price, son of Sir John Price, of the priory of Brecon.\nIt is even claimed that Cwm Pwca, or Puck Valley, a part of the\nromantic glen of the Clydach, in Breconshire, is the original scene of\nthe 'Midsummer Night's Dream'--a fancy as light and airy as Puck\nhimself.[16] Anyhow, there Cwm Pwca is, and in the sylvan days, before\nFrere and Powell's ironworks were set up there, it is said to have\nbeen as full of goblins as a Methodist's head is of piety. And there\nare in Wales other places bearing like names, where Pwca's pranks are\nwell remembered by old inhabitants. The range given to the popular\nfancy in Wales is expressed with fidelity by Shakspeare's words in the\nmouth of Puck:\n\n    I'll follow you, I'll lead you about a round,\n    Through bog, through bush, through brake, through brier,\n    Sometime a horse I'll be, sometime a hound,\n    A hog, a headless bear, sometime a fire;\n    And neigh, and bark, and grunt, and roar, and burn,\n    Like horse, hound, hog, bear, fire, at every turn.[17]\n\nThe various stories I have encountered bear out these details almost\nwithout an omission.\n\n  [Illustration: {SKETCH OF PWCA.}]\n\nIn his own proper character, however, Pwca has a sufficiently\ngrotesque elfish aspect. It is stated that a Welsh peasant who was\nasked to give an idea of the appearance of Pwca, drew the above figure\nwith a bit of coal.\n\nA servant girl who attended to the cattle on the Trwyn farm, near\nAbergwyddon, used to take food to 'Master Pwca,' as she called the\nelf. A bowl of fresh milk and a slice of white bread were the\ncomponent parts of the goblin's repast, and were placed on a certain\nspot where he got them. One night the girl, moved by the spirit of\nmischief, drank the milk and ate most of the bread, leaving for Master\nPwca only water and crusts. Next morning she found that the fastidious\nfairy had left the food untouched. Not long after, as the girl was\npassing the lonely spot, where she had hitherto left Pwca his food,\nshe was seized under the arm pits by fleshly hands (which, however,\nshe could not see), and subjected to a castigation of a most\nmortifying character. Simultaneously there fell upon her ear in good\nset Welsh a warning not to repeat her offence on peril of still worse\ntreatment. This story 'is thoroughly believed in there to this\nday.'[18]\n\nI visited the scene of the story, a farm near Abergwyddon (now called\nAbercarne), and heard a great deal more of the exploits of that\nparticular Pwca, to which I will refer again. The most singular fact\nof the matter is that although at least a century has elapsed, and\nsome say several centuries, since the exploits in question, you cannot\nfind a Welsh peasant in the parish but knows all about Pwca'r Trwyn.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[16] According to a letter written by the poet Campbell to Mrs.\nFletcher, in 1833, and published in her Autobiography, it was thought\nShakspeare went in person to see this magic valley. 'It is no later than\nyesterday,' wrote Campbell, 'that I discovered a probability--almost\nnear a certainty--that Shakspeare visited friends in the very town\n(Brecon in Wales) where Mrs. Siddons was born, and that he there found\nin a neighbouring glen, called \"The Valley of Fairy Puck,\" the principal\nmachinery of his \"Midsummer Night's Dream.\"'\n\n[17] 'Midsummer Night's Dream,' Act III., Sc. 3.\n\n[18] 'Archaeologia Cambrensis,' 4th Se., vi., 175. (1875.)\n\n\nVI.\n\nThe most familiar form of the Pwca story is one which I have\nencountered in several localities, varying so little in its details\nthat each account would be interchangeable with another by the\nalteration of local names. This form presents a peasant who is\nreturning home from his work, or from a fair, when he sees a light\ntravelling before him. Looking closer he perceives that it is carried\nby a dusky little figure, holding a lantern or candle at arm's length\nover its head. He follows it for several miles, and suddenly finds\nhimself on the brink of a frightful precipice. From far down below\nthere rises to his ears the sound of a foaming torrent. At the same\nmoment the little goblin with the lantern springs across the chasm,\nalighting on the opposite side; raises the light again high over its\nhead, utters a loud and malicious laugh, blows out its candle and\ndisappears up the opposite hill, leaving the awestruck peasant to get\nhome as best he can.\n\n  [Illustration: PWCA.\n      COBLYNAU.]\n\n\nVII.\n\nUnder the general title of Coblynau I class the fairies which haunt\nthe mines, quarries and underground regions of Wales, corresponding to\nthe cabalistic Gnomes. The word coblyn has the double meaning of\nknocker or thumper and sprite or fiend; and may it not be the original\nof goblin? It is applied by Welsh miners to pigmy fairies which dwell\nin the mines, and point out, by a peculiar knocking or rapping, rich\nveins of ore. The faith is extended, in some parts, so as to cover the\nindication of subterranean treasures generally, in caves and secret\nplaces of the mountains. The coblynau are described as being about\nhalf a yard in height and very ugly to look upon, but extremely\ngood-natured, and warm friends of the miner. Their dress is a\ngrotesque imitation of the miner's garb, and they carry tiny hammers,\npicks and lamps. They work busily, loading ore in buckets, flitting\nabout the shafts, turning tiny windlasses, and pounding away like\nmadmen, but really accomplishing nothing whatever. They have been\nknown to throw stones at the miners, when enraged at being lightly\nspoken of; but the stones are harmless. Nevertheless, all miners of a\nproper spirit refrain from provoking them, because their presence\nbrings good luck.\n\n\nVIII.\n\nMiners are possibly no more superstitious than other men of equal\nintelligence; I have heard some of their number repel indignantly the\nidea that they are superstitious at all; but this would simply be to\nraise them above the level of our common humanity. There is testimony\nenough, besides, to support my own conclusions, which accredit a\nliberal share of credulity to the mining class. The _Oswestry\nAdvertiser_, a short time ago, recorded the fact that, at Cefn, 'a\nwoman is employed as messenger at one of the collieries, and as she\ncommences her duty early each morning she meets great numbers of\ncolliers going to their work. Some of them, we are gravely assured,\nconsider it a bad omen to meet a woman first thing in the morning; and\nnot having succeeded in deterring her from her work by other means,\nthey waited upon the manager and declared that they should remain at\nhome unless the woman was dismissed.' This was in 1874. In June, 1878,\nthe _South Wales Daily News_ recorded a superstition of the quarrymen\nat Penrhyn, where some thousands of men refused to work on Ascension\nDay. 'This refusal did not arise out of any reverential feeling, but\nfrom an old and widespread superstition, which has lingered in that\ndistrict for years, that if work is continued on Ascension Day an\naccident will certainly follow. A few years ago the agents persuaded\nthe men to break through the superstition, and there were accidents\neach year--a not unlikely occurrence, seeing the extent of works\ncarried on, and the dangerous nature of the occupation of the men. This\nyear, however, the men, one and all, refused to work.' These are\nexamples dealing with considerable numbers of the mining class, and are\nquoted in this instance as being more significant than individual cases\nwould be. Of these last I have encountered many. Yet I should be sorry\nif any reader were to conclude from all this that Welsh miners are not\nin the main intelligent, church-going, newspaper-reading men. They are\nso, I think, even beyond the common. Their superstitions, therefore,\nlike those of the rest of us, must be judged as 'a thing apart,' not to\nbe reconciled with intelligence and education, but co-existing with\nthem. Absolute freedom from superstition can come only with a degree of\nscientific culture not yet reached by mortal man.\n\nIt can hardly be cause for wonder that the miner should be\nsuperstitious. His life is passed in a dark and gloomy region, fathoms\nbelow the earth's green surface, surrounded by walls on which dim\nlamps shed a fitful light. It is not surprising that imagination (and\nthe Welsh imagination is peculiarly vivid) should conjure up the faces\nand forms of gnomes and coblynau, of phantoms and fairy men. When they\nhear the mysterious thumping which they know is not produced by any\nhuman being, and when in examining the place where the noise was heard\nthey find there are really valuable indications of ore, the sturdiest\nincredulity must sometimes be shaken. Science points out that the\nnoise may be produced by the action of water upon the loose stones in\nfissures and pot-holes of the mountain limestone, and does actually\nsuggest the presence of metals.\n\nIn the days before a Priestley had caught and bottled that demon which\nexists in the shape of carbonic acid gas, when the miner was smitten\ndead by an invisible foe in the deep bowels of the earth it was\nnatural his awestruck companions should ascribe the mysterious blow to\na supernatural enemy. When the workman was assailed suddenly by what\nwe now call fire-damp, which hurled him and his companions right and\nleft upon the dark rocks, scorching, burning, and killing, those who\nsurvived were not likely to question the existence of the mine fiend.\nHence arose the superstition--now probably quite extinct--of basilisks\nin the mines, which destroyed with their terrible gaze. When the\nexplanation came, that the thing which killed the miner was what he\nbreathed, not what he saw; and when chemistry took the fire-damp from\nthe domain of faerie, the basilisk and the fire fiend had not a leg to\nstand on. The explanation of the Knockers is more recent, and less\npalpable and convincing.\n\n\nIX.\n\nThe Coblynau are always given the form of dwarfs, in the popular\nfancy; wherever seen or heard, they are believed to have escaped from\nthe mines or the secret regions of the mountains. Their homes are\nhidden from mortal vision. When encountered, either in the mines or on\nthe mountains, they have strayed from their special abodes, which are\nas spectral as themselves. There is at least one account extant of\ntheir secret territory having been revealed to mortal eyes. I find it\nin a quaint volume (of which I shall have more to say), printed at\nNewport, Monmouthshire, in 1813.[19] It relates that one William\nEvans, of Hafodafel, while crossing the Beacon Mountain very early in\nthe morning, passed a fairy coal mine, where fairies were busily at\nwork. Some were cutting the coal, some carrying it to fill the sacks,\nsome raising the loads upon the horses' backs, and so on; but all in\nthe completest silence. He thought this 'a wonderful extra natural\nthing,' and was considerably impressed by it, for well he knew that\nthere really was no coal mine at that place. He was a person of\n'undoubted veracity,' and what is more, 'a great man in the\nworld--above telling an untruth.'\n\nThat the Coblynau sometimes wandered far from home, the same\nchronicler testifies; but on these occasions they were taking a\nholiday. Egbert Williams, 'a pious young gentleman of Denbighshire,\nthen at school,' was one day playing in a field called Cae Caled, in\nthe parish of Bodfari, with three girls, one of whom was his sister.\nNear the stile beyond Lanelwyd House they saw a company of fifteen or\nsixteen coblynau engaged in dancing madly. They were in the middle of\nthe field, about seventy yards from the spectators, and they danced\nsomething after the manner of Morris-dancers, but with a wildness and\nswiftness in their motions. They were clothed in red like British\nsoldiers, and wore red handkerchiefs spotted with yellow wound round\ntheir heads. And a strange circumstance about them was that although\nthey were almost as big as ordinary men, yet they had unmistakably the\nappearance of dwarfs, and one could call them nothing but dwarfs.\nPresently one of them left the company and ran towards the group near\nthe stile, who were direfully scared thereby, and scrambled in great\nfright to go over the stile. Barbara Jones got over first, then her\nsister, and as Egbert Williams was helping his sister over they saw\nthe coblyn close upon them, and barely got over when his hairy hand\nwas laid on the stile. He stood leaning on it, gazing after them as\nthey ran, with a grim copper-coloured countenance and a fierce look.\nThe young people ran to Lanelwyd House and called the elders out, but\nthough they hurried quickly to the field the dwarfs had already\ndisappeared.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[19] 'A Relation of Apparitions of Spirits in the County of Monmouth\nand the Principality of Wales.' By Rev. Edmund Jones of the Tranch.\n(Newport, 1813.)\n\n\nX.\n\nThe counterparts of the Coblynau are found in most mining countries.\nIn Germany, the Wichtlein (little Wights) are little old long-bearded\nmen, about three-quarters of an ell high, which haunt the mines of the\nsouthern land. The Bohemians call the Wichtlein by the name of\nHaus-schmiedlein, little House-smiths, from their sometimes making a\nnoise as if labouring hard at the anvil. They are not so popular as in\nWales, however, as they predict misfortune or death. They announce the\ndoom of a miner by knocking three times distinctly, and when any\nlesser evil is about to befall him they are heard digging, pounding,\nand imitating other kinds of work. In Germany also the kobolds are\nrather troublesome than otherwise, to the miners, taking pleasure in\nfrustrating their objects, and rendering their toil unfruitful.\nSometimes they are downright malignant, especially if neglected or\ninsulted, but sometimes also they are indulgent to individuals whom\nthey take under their protection. 'When a miner therefore hit upon a\nrich vein of ore, the inference commonly was not that he possessed\nmore skill, industry, or even luck than his fellow-workmen, but that\nthe spirits of the mine had directed him to the treasure.'[20]\n\nThe intimate connection between mine fairies and the whole race of\ndwarfs is constantly met throughout the fairy mythology; and the\nconnection of the dwarfs with the mountains is equally universal.\n'God,' says the preface to the Heldenbuch, 'gave the dwarfs being,\nbecause the land and the mountains were altogether waste and\nuncultivated, and there was much store of silver and gold and precious\nstones and pearls still in the mountains.' From the most ancient\ntimes, and in the oldest countries, down to our own time and the new\nworld of America, the traditions are the same. The old Norse belief\nwhich made the dwarfs the current machinery of the northern Sagas is\nechoed in the Catskill Mountains with the rolling of the thunder among\nthe crags where Hendrik Hudson's dwarfs are playing ninepins.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[20] Scott, 'Demonology and Witchcraft,' 121.\n\n\nXI.\n\nThe Bwbach, or Boobach, is the good-natured goblin which does good\nturns for the tidy Welsh maid who wins its favour by a certain course\nof behaviour recommended by long tradition. The maid having swept the\nkitchen, makes a good fire the last thing at night, and having put the\nchurn, filled with cream, on the whitened hearth, with a basin of\nfresh cream for the Bwbach on the hob, goes to bed to await the event.\nIn the morning she finds (if she is in luck) that the Bwbach has\nemptied the basin of cream, and plied the churn-dasher so well that\nthe maid has but to give a thump or two to bring the butter in a great\nlump. Like the Ellyll which it so much resembles, the Bwbach does not\napprove of dissenters and their ways, and especially strong is its\naversion to total abstainers.\n\nThere was a Bwbach belonging to a certain estate in Cardiganshire,\nwhich took great umbrage at a Baptist preacher who was a guest in the\nhouse, and who was much fonder of prayers than of good ale. Now the\nBwbach had a weakness in favour of people who sat around the hearth\nwith their mugs of cwrw da and their pipes, and it took to pestering\nthe preacher. One night it jerked the stool from under the good man's\nelbows, as he knelt pouring forth prayer, so that he fell down flat on\nhis face. Another time it interrupted the devotions by jangling the\nfire-irons on the hearth; and it was continually making the dogs fall\na-howling during prayers, or frightening the farm-boy by grinning at\nhim through the window, or throwing the maid into fits. At last it had\nthe audacity to attack the preacher as he was crossing a field. The\nminister told the story in this wise: 'I was reading busily in my\nhymn-book as I walked on, when a sudden fear came over me and my legs\nbegan to tremble. A shadow crept upon me from behind, and when I\nturned round--it was myself!--my person, my dress, and even my\nhymn-book. I looked in its face a moment, and then fell insensible to\nthe ground.' And there, insensible still, they found him. This\nencounter proved too much for the good man, who considered it a\nwarning to him to leave those parts. He accordingly mounted his horse\nnext day and rode away. A boy of the neighbourhood, whose veracity\nwas, like that of all boys, unimpeachable, afterwards said that he saw\nthe Bwbach jump up behind the preacher, on the horse's back. And the\nhorse went like lightning, with eyes like balls of fire, and the\npreacher looking back over his shoulder at the Bwbach, that grinned\nfrom ear to ear.\n\n\nXII.\n\nThe same confusion in outlines which exists regarding our own Bogie\nand Hobgoblin gives the Bwbach a double character, as a household\nfairy and as a terrifying phantom. In both aspects it is ludicrous,\nbut in the latter it has dangerous practices. To get into its clutches\nunder certain circumstances is no trifling matter, for it has the\npower of whisking people off through the air. Its services are brought\ninto requisition for this purpose by troubled ghosts who cannot sleep\non account of hidden treasure they want removed; and if they can\nsucceed in getting a mortal to help them in removing the treasure,\nthey employ the Bwbach to transport the mortal through the air.\n\nThis ludicrous fairy is in France represented by the gobelin. Mothers\nthreaten children with him. 'Le gobelin vous mangera, le gobelin vous\nemportera.'[21] In the English 'hobgoblin' we have a word apparently\nderived from the Welsh hob, to hop, and coblyn, a goblin, which\npresents a hopping goblin to the mind, and suggests the Pwca (with\nwhich the Bwbach is also confused in the popular fancy at times), but\nshould mean in English simply the goblin of the hob, or household\nfairy. In its bugbear aspect, the Bwbach, like the English bogie, is\nbelieved to be identical with the Slavonic 'bog,' and the 'baga' of\nthe Cuneiform Inscriptions, both of which are names for the Supreme\nBeing, according to Professor Fiske. 'The ancestral form of these\nepithets' is found in 'the old Aryan \"Bhaga,\" which reappears\nunchanged in the Sanskrit of the Vedas, and has left a memento of\nitself in the surname of the Phrygian Zeus \"Bagaios.\" It seems\noriginally to have denoted either the unclouded sun, or the sky of\nnoonday illuminated by the solar rays.... Thus the same name which to\nthe Vedic poet, to the Persian of the time of Xerxes, and to the\nmodern Russian, suggests the supreme majesty of deity, is in English\nassociated with an ugly and ludicrous fiend, closely akin to that\ngrotesque Northern Devil of whom Southey was unable to think without\nlaughing.'[22]\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[21] Pere l'Abbe, 'Etymologie,' i., 262.\n\n[22] Fiske, 'Myths and Myth-makers,' 105.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\n    Lake Fairies--The Gwragedd Annwn, or Dames of\n    Elfin-Land--St. Patrick and the Welshmen; a Legend of\n    Crumlyn Lake--The Elfin Cow of Llyn Barfog--Y Fuwch Laethwen\n    Lefrith--The Legend of the Meddygon Myddfai--The Wife of\n    Supernatural Race--The Three Blows; a Carmarthenshire\n    Legend--Cheese and the Didactic Purpose in Welsh\n    Folk-Lore--The Fairy Maiden's Papa--The Enchanted Isle in\n    the Mountain Lake--Legend of the Men of Ardudwy--Origin of\n    Water Fairies--Their prevalence in many Lands.\n\n\nI.\n\nThe Gwragedd Annwn (literally, wives of the lower world, or hell) are\nthe elfin dames who dwell under the water. I find no resemblance in\nthe Welsh fairy to our familiar mermaid, beyond the watery abode, and\nthe sometimes winning ways. The Gwragedd Annwn are not fishy of\naspect, nor do they dwell in the sea. Their haunt is the lakes and\nrivers, but especially the wild and lonely lakes upon the mountain\nheights. These romantic sheets are surrounded with numberless\nsuperstitions, which will be further treated of. In the realm of\nfaerie they serve as avenues of communication between this world and\nthe lower one of annwn, the shadowy domain presided over by Gwyn ap\nNudd, king of the fairies. This sub-aqueous realm is peopled by those\nchildren of mystery termed Plant Annwn, and the belief is current\namong the inhabitants of the Welsh mountains that the Gwragedd Annwn\nstill occasionally visit this upper world of ours.[23] The only\nreference to Welsh mermaids I have either read or heard is contained\nin Drayton's account of the Battle of Agincourt. There it is\nmentioned, among the armorial ensigns of the counties of Wales:\n\n    As Cardigan, the next to them that went,\n    Came with a mermaid sitting on a rock.[24]\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[23] 'Archaeologia Cambrensis,' 2nd Se., iv., 253.\n\n[24] There is in 'Cymru Fu' a mermaid story, but its mermaid feature\nis apparently a modern embellishment of a real incident, and without\nvalue here.\n\n\nII.\n\nCrumlyn Lake, near the quaint village of Briton Ferry, is one of the\nmany in Wales which are a resort of the elfin dames. It is also\nbelieved that a large town lies swallowed up there, and that the\nGwragedd Annwn have turned the submerged walls to use as the\nsuperstructure of their fairy palaces. Some claim to have seen the\ntowers of beautiful castles lifting their battlements beneath the\nsurface of the dark waters, and fairy bells are at times heard ringing\nfrom these towers. The way the elfin dames first came to dwell there\nwas this: A long, ay, a very long time ago, St. Patrick came over from\nIreland on a visit to St. David of Wales, just to say 'Sut yr y'ch\nchwi?' (How d'ye do?); and as they were strolling by this lake\nconversing on religious topics in a friendly manner, some Welsh people\nwho had ascertained that it was St. Patrick, and being angry at him\nfor leaving Cambria for Erin, began to abuse him in the Welsh\nlanguage, his native tongue. Of course such an insult could not go\nunpunished, and St. Patrick caused his villifiers to be transformed\ninto fishes; but some of them being females, were converted into\nfairies instead. It is also related that the sun, on account of this\ninsolence to so holy a man, never shed its life-giving rays upon the\ndark waters of this picturesque lake, except during one week of the\nyear. This legend and these magical details are equally well\naccredited to various other lakes, among them Llyn Barfog, near\nAberdovey, the town whose 'bells' are celebrated in immortal song.\n\n\nIII.\n\nLlyn Barfog is the scene of the famous elfin cow's descent upon earth,\nfrom among the droves of the Gwragedd Annwn. This is the legend of the\norigin of the Welsh black cattle, as related to me in Carmarthenshire:\nIn times of old there was a band of elfin ladies who used to haunt the\nneighbourhood of Llyn Barfog, a lake among the hills just back of\nAberdovey. It was their habit to make their appearance at dusk clad\nall in green, accompanied by their milk-white hounds. Besides their\nhounds, the green ladies of Llyn Barfog were peculiar in the\npossession of droves of beautiful milk-white kine, called Gwartheg y\nLlyn, or kine of the lake. One day an old farmer, who lived near\nDyssyrnant, had the good luck to catch one of these mystic cows, which\nhad fallen in love with the cattle of his herd. From that day the\nfarmer's fortune was made. Such calves, such milk, such butter and\ncheese, as came from the milk-white cow never had been seen in Wales\nbefore, nor ever will be seen again. The fame of the Fuwch Gyfeiliorn\n(which was what they called the cow) spread through the country round.\nThe farmer, who had been poor, became rich; the owner of vast herds,\nlike the patriarchs of old. But one day he took it into his silly\nnoddle that the elfin cow was getting old, and that he had better\nfatten her for the market. His nefarious purpose thrived amazingly.\nNever, since beef steaks were invented, was seen such a fat cow as\nthis cow grew to be. Killing day came, and the neighbours arrived from\nall about to witness the taking-off of this monstrously fat beast. The\nfarmer had already counted up the gains from the sale of her, and the\nbutcher had bared his red right arm. The cow was tethered, regardless\nof her mournful lowing and her pleading eyes; the butcher raised his\nbludgeon and struck fair and hard between the eyes--when lo! a shriek\nresounded through the air, awakening the echoes of the hills, as the\nbutcher's bludgeon went through the goblin head of the elfin cow, and\nknocked over nine adjoining men, while the butcher himself went\nfrantically whirling around trying to catch hold of something\npermanent. Then the astonished assemblage beheld a green lady standing\non a crag high up over the lake, and crying with a loud voice:\n\n    Dere di felen Einion,\n    Cyrn Cyfeiliorn--braith y Llyn,\n    A'r foel Dodin,\n    Codwch, dewch adre.\n\n    Come yellow Anvil, stray horns,\n    Speckled one of the lake,\n    And of the hornless Dodin,\n    Arise, come home.\n\nWhereupon not only did the elfin cow arise and go home, but all her\nprogeny to the third and fourth generations went home with her,\ndisappearing in the air over the hill tops and returning nevermore.\nOnly one cow remained of all the farmer's herds, and she had turned\nfrom milky white to raven black. Whereupon the farmer in despair\ndrowned himself in the lake of the green ladies, and the black cow\nbecame the progenitor of the existing race of Welsh black cattle.\n\nThis legend appears, in a slightly different form, in the 'Iolo MSS.,'\nas translated by Taliesin Williams, of Merthyr:[25] 'The milk-white\nmilch cow gave enough of milk to every one who desired it; and however\nfrequently milked, or by whatever number of persons, she was never\nfound deficient. All persons who drank of her milk were healed of\nevery illness; from fools they became wise; and from being wicked,\nbecame happy. This cow went round the world; and wherever she\nappeared, she filled with milk all the vessels that could be found,\nleaving calves behind her for all the wise and happy. It was from her\nthat all the milch cows in the world were obtained. After traversing\nthrough the island of Britain, for the benefit and blessing of country\nand kindred, she reached the Vale of Towy; where, tempted by her fine\nappearance and superior condition, the natives sought to kill and eat\nher; but just as they were proceeding to effect their purpose, she\nvanished from between their hands, and was never seen again. A house\nstill remains in the locality, called Y Fuwch Laethwen Lefrith (The\nMilk-white Milch Cow.)'\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[25] Llandovery, published for the Welsh MSS. Society, 1848.\n\n\nIV.\n\nThe legend of the Meddygon Myddfai again introduces the elfin cattle\nto our notice, but combines with them another and a very interesting\nform of this superstition, namely, that of the wife of supernatural\nrace. A further feature gives it its name, Meddygon meaning\nphysicians, and the legend professing to give the origin of certain\ndoctors who were renowned in the thirteenth century. The legend\nrelates that a farmer in the parish of Myddfai, Carmarthenshire,\nhaving bought some lambs in a neighbouring fair, led them to graze\nnear Llyn y Fan Fach, on the Black Mountains. Whenever he visited\nthese lambs three beautiful damsels appeared to him from the lake, on\nwhose shores they often made excursions. Sometimes he pursued and\ntried to catch them, but always failed; the enchanting nymphs ran\nbefore him and on reaching the lake taunted him in these words:\n\n    Cras dy fara,\n    Anhawdd ein dala;\n\nwhich, if one must render it literally, means:\n\n    Bake your bread,\n    'Twill be hard to catch us;\n\nbut which, more poetically treated, might signify:\n\n    Mortal, who eatest baken bread,\n    Not for thee is the fairy's bed!\n\nOne day some moist bread from the lake came floating ashore. The\nfarmer seized it, and devoured it with avidity. The following day, to\nhis great delight, he was successful in his chase, and caught the\nnymphs on the shore. After talking a long time with them, he mustered\nup the courage to propose marriage to one of them. She consented to\naccept him on condition that he would distinguish her from her sisters\nthe next day. This was a new and great difficulty to the young farmer,\nfor the damsels were so similar in form and features, that he could\nscarcely see any difference between them. He noted, however, a\ntrifling singularity in the strapping of the chosen one's sandal, by\nwhich he recognized her on the following day. As good as her word, the\ngwraig immediately left the lake and went with him to his farm. Before\nshe quitted the lake she summoned therefrom to attend her, seven cows,\ntwo oxen, and one bull. She stipulated that she should remain with the\nfarmer only until such time as he should strike her thrice without\ncause. For some years they dwelt peaceably together, and she bore him\nthree sons, who were the celebrated Meddygon Myddfai. One day, when\npreparing for a fair in the neighbourhood, the farmer desired her to\ngo to the field for his horse. She said she would, but being rather\ndilatory, he said to her humorously 'Dos, dos, dos,' i.e., 'Go, go,\ngo,' and at the same time slightly tapped her arm three times with his\nglove.... The blows were slight--but they were blows. The terms of the\nmarriage contract were broken, and the dame departed, summoning with\nher her seven cows, her two oxen, and the bull. The oxen were at that\nmoment ploughing in the field, but they immediately obeyed her call\nand dragged the plough after them to the lake. The furrow, from the\nfield in which they were ploughing to the margin of the lake, is still\nto be seen--in several parts of that country--at the present day.\nAfter her departure, the gwraig annwn once met her three sons in the\nvalley now called Cwm Meddygon, and gave them a magic box containing\nremedies of wonderful power, through whose use they became celebrated.\nTheir names were Cadogan, Gruffydd and Einion, and the farmer's name\nwas Rhiwallon. Rhiwallon and his sons, named as above, were physicians\nto Rhys Gryg, Lord of Dynevor, and son of the last native prince of\nWales. They lived about 1230, and dying, left behind them a compendium\nof their medical practice. 'A copy of their works is in the Welsh\nSchool Library in Gray's Inn Lane.'[26]\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[26] 'Cambro-Briton,' ii., 315.\n\n\nV.\n\nIn a more polished and elaborate form this legend omits the medical\nfeatures altogether, but substitutes a number of details so peculiarly\nWelsh that I cannot refrain from presenting them. This version\nrelates that the enamoured farmer had heard of the lake maiden, who\nrowed up and down the lake in a golden boat, with a golden oar. Her\nhair was long and yellow, and her face was pale and melancholy. In his\ndesire to see this wondrous beauty, the farmer went on New Year's Eve\nto the edge of the lake, and in silence awaited the coming of the\nfirst hour of the new year. It came, and there in truth was the maiden\nin her golden boat, rowing softly to and fro. Fascinated, he stood for\nhours beholding her, until the stars faded out of the sky, the moon\nsank behind the rocks, and the cold gray dawn drew nigh; and then the\nlovely gwraig began to vanish from his sight. Wild with passion, and\nwith the thought of losing her for ever, he cried aloud to the\nretreating vision, 'Stay! stay! Be my wife.' But the gwraig only\nuttered a faint cry, and was gone. Night after night the young farmer\nhaunted the shores of the lake, but the gwraig returned no more. He\nbecame negligent of his person; his once robust form grew thin and\nwan; his face was a map of melancholy and despair. He went one day to\nconsult a soothsayer who dwelt on the mountain, and this grave\npersonage advised him to besiege the damsel's heart with gifts of\nbread and cheese. This counsel commending itself strongly to his Welsh\nway of thinking, the farmer set out upon an assiduous course of\ncasting his bread upon the waters--accompanied by cheese. He began on\nMidsummer eve by going to the lake and dropping therein a large cheese\nand a loaf of bread. Night after night he continued to throw in loaves\nand cheeses, but nothing appeared in answer to his sacrifices. His\nhopes were set, however, on the approaching New Year's eve. The\nmomentous night arrived at last. Clad in his best array, and armed\nwith seven white loaves and his biggest and handsomest cheese, he set\nout once more for the lake. There he waited till midnight, and then\nslowly and solemnly dropped the seven loaves into the water, and with\na sigh sent the cheese to keep them company. His persistence was at\nlength rewarded. The magic skiff appeared; the fair gwraig guided it\nto where he stood; stepped ashore, and accepted him as her husband.\nThe before-mentioned stipulation was made as to the blows; and she\nbrought her dower of cattle. One day, after they had been four years\nmarried, they were invited to a christening. In the midst of the\nceremony the gwraig burst into tears. Her husband gave her an angry\nlook, and asked her why she thus made a fool of herself. She replied,\n'The poor babe is entering a world of sin and sorrow; misery lies\nbefore it. Why should I rejoice?' He pushed her pettishly away. 'I\nwarn you, husband,' said the gwraig; 'you have struck me once.' After\na time they were bidden to the funeral of the child they had seen\nchristened. Now the gwraig laughed, sang, and danced about. The\nhusband's wrath again arose, and again he asked her why she thus made\na fool of herself. She answered, 'The dear babe has escaped the misery\nthat was before it, and gone to be good and happy for ever. Why should\nI grieve?' Again he pushed her from him, and again she warned him; he\nhad struck her twice. Soon they were invited to a wedding; the bride\nwas young and fair, the groom a tottering, toothless, decrepit old\nmiser. In the midst of the wedding feast the gwraig annwn burst into\ntears, and to her husband's question why she thus made a fool of\nherself she replied, 'Truth is wedded to age for greed, and not for\nlove--summer and winter cannot agree--it is the diawl's compact.' The\nangry husband thrust her from him for the third and last time. She\nlooked at him with tender love and reproach, and said, 'The three\nblows are struck--husband, farewell!' He never saw her more, nor any\nof the flocks and herds she had brought him for her dowry.\n\n  [Illustration: THE GWRAIG OF THE GOLDEN BOAT.]\n\nIn its employment of the myth to preach a sermon, and in its\nintroduction of cheese, this version of the legend is very Welsh\nindeed. The extent to which cheese figures in Cambrian folk-lore is\nsurprising; cheese is encountered in every sort of fairy company; you\nactually meet cheese in the Mabinogion, along with the most romantic\nforms of beauty known in story. And herein again is illustrated\nShakspeare's accurate knowledge of the Cambrian goblins. 'Heaven\ndefend me from that Welsh fairy!' says Falstaff, 'lest he transform me\nto a piece of cheese!'[27] Bread is found figuring actively in the\nfolk-lore of every country, especially as a sacrifice to water-gods;\nbut cheese is, so far as I know, thus honoured only in Cambria.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[27] 'Merry Wives of Windsor,' Act V., Sc. 5.\n\n\nVI.\n\nOnce more this legend appears, this time with a feature I have nowhere\nelse encountered in fairy land, to wit, the father of a fairy damsel.\nThe son of a farmer on Drws Coed farm was one foggy day looking after\nhis father's sheep, when crossing a marshy meadow he beheld a little\nlady behind some rising ground. She had yellow hair, blue eyes and\nrosy cheeks. He approached her, and asked permission to converse;\nwhereupon she smiled sweetly and said to him, 'Idol of my hopes, you\nhave come at last!' They there and then began to 'keep company,' and\nmet each other daily here and there along the farm meadows. His\nintentions were honourable; he desired her to marry him. He was\nsometimes absent for days together, no one knew where, and his friends\nwhispered about that he had been witched. Around the Turf Lake (Llyn\ny Dywarchen) was a grove of trees, and under one of these one day the\nfairy promised to be his. The consent of her father was now necessary.\nOne moonlight night an appointment was made to meet in this wood. The\nfather and daughter did not appear till the moon had disappeared\nbehind the hill. Then they both came. The fairy father immediately\ngave his consent to the marriage, on one condition, namely, that her\nfuture husband should never hit her with iron. 'If ever thou dost\ntouch her flesh with iron she shall be no more thine, but she shall\nreturn to her own.' They were married--a good-looking pair. Large sums\nof money were brought by her, the night before the wedding, to Drws\nCoed. The shepherd lad became wealthy, had several handsome children,\nand they were very happy. After some years, they were one day out\nriding, when her horse sank in a deep mire, and by the assistance of\nher husband, in her hurry to remount, she was struck on her knee by\nthe stirrup of the saddle. Immediately voices were heard singing on\nthe brow of the hill, and she disappeared, leaving all her children\nbehind. She and her mother devised a plan by which she could see her\nbeloved, but as she was not allowed to walk the earth with man, they\nfloated a large turf on the lake, and on this turf she stood for hours\nat a time holding converse with her husband. This continued until his\ndeath.[28]\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[28] 'Cymru Fu,' 476.\n\n\nVII.\n\nThe didactic purpose again appears in the following legend, which,\nvarying but little in phraseology, is current in the neighbourhood of\na dozen different mountain lakes: In other days, before the Cymry had\nbecome reconciled to their Saxon foe, on every New Year's morning a\ndoor was found open in a rock hard by the lake. Those mortals who had\nthe curiosity and the resolution to enter this door were conducted by\na secret passage to a small island in the middle of the lake. Here\nthey found a most enchanting garden, stored with the choicest fruits\nand flowers, and inhabited by the Gwragedd Annwn, whose beauty could\nbe equalled only by the courtesy and affability which they exhibited\nto those who pleased them. They gathered fruit and flowers for each of\ntheir guests, entertained them with the most exquisite music,\ndisclosed to them many secrets of futurity, and invited them to stay\nas long as they liked. 'But,' said they, 'the island is secret, and\nnothing of its produce must be carried away.' The warning being\nheeded, all went well. But one day there appeared among the visitors a\nwicked Welshman, who, thinking to derive some magical aid therefrom,\npocketed a flower with which he had been presented, and was about to\nleave the garden with his prize. But the theft boded him no good. As\nsoon as he had touched unhallowed ground the flower vanished, and he\nlost his senses. However, of this abuse of their hospitality the\nGwragedd Annwn took no notice at the time. They dismissed their guests\nwith their accustomed courtesy, and the door was closed as usual. But\ntheir resentment was bitter; for though the fairies of the lake and\ntheir enchanted garden undoubtedly occupy the spot to this day, the\ndoor which led to the island has never been reopened.\n\n\nVIII.\n\nIn all these legends the student of comparative folk-lore traces the\nancient mythology, however overlain with later details. The\nwater-maidens of every land doubtless originally were the floating\nclouds of the sky, or the mists of the mountain. From this have come\ncertain fair and fanciful creations with which Indo-European folk-lore\nteems, the most familiar of which are Undine, Melusina, Nausicaa, and\nthe classic Muse. In Wales, as in other lands, the myth has many\nforms. The dispersion of dark clouds from the mountains, by the beams\nof the rising sun, or the morning breezes, is localized in the legend\nof the Men of Ardudwy. These men make a raid on the maidens of the\nVale of Clwyd, and are pursued and slaughtered by the latter's fathers\nand brothers. The maidens thereupon cast themselves headlong into the\nlake, which is thenceforth called the Maidens' Lake, or Llyn y\nMorwynion. In another legend, the river mist over the Cynwal is the\nspirit of a traitress who perished long ago in the lake. She had\nconspired with the sea-born pirates of the North (the ocean storms) to\nrob her Cambrian lord of his domains. She was defeated by the aid of a\npowerful enchanter (the sun), and fled up the river to the lake,\naccompanied by her maidens, who were drowned with her there.[29]\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[29] 'Arch. Camb.,' 4th Se., vii., 251.\n\n\nIX.\n\nAs the mermaid superstition is seemingly absent in Wales, so there are\nno fairy tales of maidens who lure mortals to their doom beneath the\nwater, as the Dracae did women and children, and as the Nymph of the\nLurley did marriageable young men. But it is believed that there are\nseveral old Welsh families who are the descendants of the Gwragedd\nAnnwn, as in the case of the Meddygon Myddfai. The familiar Welsh name\nof Morgan is sometimes thought to signify, 'Born of the Sea.'\nCertainly mor in Welsh means sea, and gan a birth. It is curious,\ntoo, that a mermaid is called in Basse Bretagne 'Mary Morgan.' But the\nclass of stories in which a mortal marries a water-maiden is large,\nand while the local details smack of the soil, the general idea is so\nlike in lands far remote from each other as to indicate a common\norigin in pre-historic times. In Wales, where the mountain lakes are\nnumerous, gloomy, lonely, and yet lovely; where many of them, too,\nshow traces of having been inhabited in ancient times by a race of\nlake-dwellers, whose pile-supported villages vanished ages ago; and\nwhere bread and cheese are as classic as beer and candles, these\nparticulars are localized in the legend. In the Faro Islands, where\nthe seal is a familiar yet ever-mysterious object, with its human-like\neyes, and glossy skin, the wife of supernatural race is a transformed\nseal. She comes ashore every ninth night, sheds her skin, leaves it on\nthe shore, and dances with her fairy companions. A mortal steals her\nsealskin dress, and when day breaks, and her companions return to\ntheir abode in the sea, compels her to remain and be his wife. Some\nday he offends her; she recovers her skin and plunges into the sea. In\nChina, the superstition appears in a Lew-chewan legend mentioned by\nDr. Dennys,[30] which relates how a fairy in the guise of a beautiful\nwoman is found bathing in a man's well. He persuades her to marry him,\nand she remains with him for nine years, at the end of which time,\ndespite the affection she has for their two children, she 'glides\nupwards into a cloud' and disappears.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[30] 'Folk-Lore of China,' 99.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\n    Mountain Fairies--The Gwyllion--The Old Woman of the\n    Mountain--The Black Mountain Gwyll--Exorcism by\n    Knife--Occult Intellectual Powers of Welsh Goats--The Legend\n    of Cadwaladr's Goat.\n\n\nI.\n\nThe Gwyllion are female fairies of frightful characteristics, who\nhaunt lonely roads in the Welsh mountains, and lead night-wanderers\nastray. They partake somewhat of the aspect of the Hecate of Greek\nmythology, who rode on the storm, and was a hag of horrid guise. The\nWelsh word gwyll is variously used to signify gloom, shade, duskiness,\na hag, a witch, a fairy, and a goblin; but its special application is\nto these mountain fairies of gloomy and harmful habits, as distinct\nfrom the Ellyllon of the forest glades and dingles, which are more\noften beneficent. The Gwyllion take on a more distinct individuality\nunder another name--as the Ellyllon do in mischievous Puck--and the\nOld Woman of the Mountain typifies all her kind. She is very carefully\ndescribed by the Prophet Jones,[31] in the guise in which she haunted\nLlanhiddel Mountain in Monmouthshire. This was the semblance of a poor\nold woman, with an oblong four-cornered hat, ash-coloured clothes, her\napron thrown across her shoulder, with a pot or wooden can in her\nhand, such as poor people carry to fetch milk with, always going\nbefore the spectator, and sometimes crying 'Wow up!' This is an\nEnglish form of a Welsh cry of distress, 'Wwb!' or 'Ww-bwb!'[32]\nThose who saw this apparition, whether by night or on a misty day,\nwould be sure to lose their way, though they might be perfectly\nfamiliar with the road. Sometimes they heard her cry, 'Wow up!' when\nthey did not see her. Sometimes when they went out by night, to fetch\ncoal, water, etc., the dwellers near that mountain would hear the cry\nvery close to them, and immediately after they would hear it afar off,\nas if it were on the opposite mountain, in the parish of Aberystruth.\nThe popular tradition in that district was that the Old Woman of the\nMountain was the spirit of one Juan White, who lived time out of mind\nin those parts, and was thought to be a witch; because the mountains\nwere not haunted in this manner until after Juan White's death.[33]\nWhen people first lost their way, and saw her before them, they used\nto hurry forward and try to catch her, supposing her to be a\nflesh-and-blood woman, who could set them right; but they never could\novertake her, and she on her part never looked back; so that no man\never saw her face. She has also been seen in the Black Mountain in\nBreconshire. Robert Williams, of Langattock, Crickhowel, 'a\nsubstantial man and of undoubted veracity,' tells this tale: As he was\ntravelling one night over part of the Black Mountain, he saw the Old\nWoman, and at the same time found he had lost his way. Not knowing her\nto be a spectre he hallooed to her to stay for him, but receiving no\nanswer thought she was deaf. He then hastened his steps, thinking to\novertake her, but the faster he ran the further he found himself\nbehind her, at which he wondered very much, not knowing the reason of\nit. He presently found himself stumbling in a marsh, at which\ndiscovery his vexation increased; and then he heard the Old Woman\nlaughing at him with a weird, uncanny, crackling old laugh. This set\nhim to thinking she might be a gwyll; and when he happened to draw out\nhis knife for some purpose, and the Old Woman vanished, then he was\nsure of it; for Welsh ghosts and fairies are afraid of a knife.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[31] See p. 104.\n\n[32] Pronounced Wooboob.\n\n[33] 'Juan (Shui) White is an old acquaintance of my boyhood,' writes\nto me a friend who was born some thirty years ago in Monmouthshire. 'A\nruined cottage on the Lasgarn hill near Pontypool was understood by us\nboys to have been her house, and there she appeared at 12 p.m.,\ncarrying her head under her arm.'\n\n\nII.\n\nAnother account relates that John ap John, of Cwm Celyn, set out one\nmorning before daybreak to walk to Caerleon Fair. As he ascended\nMilfre Mountain he heard a shouting behind him as if it were on Bryn\nMawr, which is a part of the Black Mountain in Breconshire. Soon after\nhe heard the shouting on his left hand, at Bwlch y Llwyn, nearer to\nhim, whereupon he was seized with a great fright, and began to suspect\nit was no human voice. He had already been wondering, indeed, what any\none could be doing at that hour in the morning, shouting on the\nmountain side. Still going on, he came up higher on the mountain, when\nhe heard the shouting just before him, at Gilfach fields, to the\nright--and now he was sure it was the Old Woman of the Mountain, who\npurposed leading him astray. Presently he heard behind him the noise\nof a coach, and with it the special cry of the Old Woman of the\nMountain, viz., 'Wow up!' Knowing very well that no coach could go\nthat way, and still hearing its noise approaching nearer and nearer,\nhe became thoroughly terrified, and running out of the road threw\nhimself down upon the ground and buried his face in the heath,\nwaiting for the phantom to pass. When it was gone out of hearing, he\narose; and hearing the birds singing as the day began to break, also\nseeing some sheep before him, his fear went quite off. And this, says\nthe Prophet Jones, was 'no profane, immoral man,' but 'an honest,\npeaceable, knowing man, and a very comely person' moreover.\n\n\nIII.\n\nThe exorcism by knife appears to be a Welsh notion; though there is an\nold superstition of wide prevalence in Europe that to give to or\nreceive from a friend a knife or a pair of scissors cuts friendship. I\nhave even encountered this superstition in America; once an editorial\nfriend at Indianapolis gave me a very handsome pocket-knife, which he\nrefused to part with except at the price of one cent, lawful coin of\nthe realm, asserting that we should become enemies without this\nprecaution. In China, too, special charms are associated with knives,\nand a knife which has slain a fellow-being is an invaluable\npossession. In Wales, according to Jones, the Gwyllion often came into\nthe houses of the people at Aberystruth, especially in stormy weather,\nand the inmates made them welcome--not through any love they bore\nthem, but through fear of the hurts the Gwyllion might inflict if\noffended--by providing clean water for them, and taking especial care\nthat no knife, or other cutting tool, should be in the corner near the\nfire, where the fairies would go to sit. 'For want of which care many\nwere hurt by them.' While it was desirable to exorcise them when in\nthe open air, it was not deemed prudent to display an inhospitable\nspirit towards any member of the fairy world. The cases of successful\nexorcism by knife are many, and nothing in the realm of faerie is\nbetter authenticated. There was Evan Thomas, who, travelling by night\nover Bedwellty Mountain, towards the valley of Ebwy Fawr, where his\nhouse and estate were, saw the Gwyllion on each side of him, some of\nthem dancing around him in fantastic fashion. He also heard the sound\nof a bugle-horn winding in the air, and there seemed to be invisible\nhunters riding by. He then began to be afraid, but recollected his\nhaving heard that any person seeing Gwyllion may drive them away by\ndrawing out a knife. So he drew out his knife, and the fairies\nvanished directly. Now Evan Thomas was 'an old gentleman of such\nstrict veracity that he' on one occasion 'did confess a truth against\nhimself,' when he was 'like to suffer loss' thereby, and\nnotwithstanding he 'was persuaded by some not to do it, yet he would\npersist in telling the truth, to his own hurt.'\n\nShould we find, in tracing these notions back to their source, that\nthey are connected with Arthur's sword Excalibur? If so, there again\nwe touch the primeval world.\n\nJones says that the Old Woman of the Mountain has, since about 1800,\n(at least in South Wales,) been driven into close quarters by the\nlight of the Gospel--in fact, that she now haunts mines--or in the\npreacher's formal words, 'the coal-pits and holes of the earth.'\n\n\nIV.\n\nAmong the traditions of the origin of the Gwyllion is one which\nassociates them with goats. Goats are in Wales held in peculiar esteem\nfor their supposed occult intellectual powers. They are believed to be\non very good terms with the Tylwyth Teg, and possessed of more\nknowledge than their appearance indicates. It is one of the\npeculiarities of the Tylwyth Teg that every Friday night they comb\nthe goats' beards to make them decent for Sunday. Their association\nwith the Gwyllion is related in the legend of Cadwaladr's goat:\nCadwaladr owned a very handsome goat, named Jenny, of which he was\nextremely fond; and which seemed equally fond of him; but one day, as\nif the very diawl possessed her, she ran away into the hills, with\nCadwaladr tearing after her, half mad with anger and affright. At last\nhis Welsh blood got so hot, as the goat eluded him again and again,\nthat he flung a stone at her, which knocked her over a precipice, and\nshe fell bleating to her doom. Cadwaladr made his way to the foot of\nthe crag; the goat was dying, but not dead, and licked his hand--which\nso affected the poor man that he burst into tears, and sitting on the\nground took the goat's head on his arm. The moon rose, and still he\nsat there. Presently he found that the goat had become transformed to\na beautiful young woman, whose brown eyes, as her head lay on his arm,\nlooked into his in a very disturbing way. 'Ah, Cadwaladr,' said she,\n'have I at last found you?' Now Cadwaladr had a wife at home, and was\nmuch discomfited by this singular circumstance; but when the goat--yn\nawr maiden--arose, and putting her black slipper on the end of a\nmoonbeam, held out her hand to him, he put his hand in hers and went\nwith her. As for the hand, though it looked so fair, it felt just like\na hoof. They were soon on the top of the highest mountain in Wales,\nand surrounded by a vapoury company of goats with shadowy horns. These\nraised a most unearthly bleating about his ears. One, which seemed to\nbe the king, had a voice that sounded above the din as the castle\nbells of Carmarthen used to do long ago above all the other bells in\nthe town. This one rushed at Cadwaladr and butting him in the stomach\nsent him toppling over a crag as he had sent his poor nannygoat. When\nhe came to himself, after his fall, the morning sun was shining on him\nand the birds were singing over his head. But he saw no more of either\nhis goat or the fairy she had turned into, from that time to his\ndeath.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\n    Changelings--The Plentyn-newid--The Cruel Creed of Ignorance\n    regarding Changelings--Modes of Ridding the House of the\n    Fairy Child--The Legend of the Frugal Meal--Legend of the\n    Place of Strife--Dewi Dal and the Fairies--Prevention of\n    Fairy Kidnapping--Fairies caught in the Act by\n    Mothers--Piety as an Exorcism.\n\n\nI.\n\nThe Tylwyth Teg have a fatal admiration for lovely children. Hence the\nabundant folk-lore concerning infants who have been stolen from their\ncradles, and a plentyn-newid (change-child--the equivalent of our\nchangeling) left in its place by the Tylwyth Teg. The plentyn-newid\nhas the exact appearance of the stolen infant, at first; but its\naspect speedily alters. It grows ugly of face, shrivelled of form,\nill-tempered, wailing, and generally frightful. It bites and strikes,\nand becomes a terror to the poor mother. Sometimes it is idiotic; but\nagain it has a supernatural cunning, not only impossible in a mortal\nbabe, but not even appertaining to the oldest heads, on other than\nfairy shoulders. The veracious Prophet Jones testifies to a case where\nhe himself saw the plentyn-newid--an idiot left in the stead of a son\nof Edmund John William, of the Church Valley, Monmouthshire. Says\nJones: 'I saw him myself. There was something diabolical in his\naspect,' but especially in his motions. He 'made very disagreeable\nscreaming sounds,' which used to frighten strangers greatly, but\notherwise he was harmless. He was of a 'dark, tawny complexion.' He\nlived longer than such children usually lived in Wales in that day, (a\nnot altogether pleasant intimation regarding the hard lot to which\nsuch children were subjected by their unwilling parents,) reaching the\nage of ten or twelve years. But the creed of ignorance everywhere as\nregards changelings is a very cruel one, and reminds us of the tests\nof the witchcraft trials. Under the pretence of proving whether the\nobjectionable baby is a changeling or not, it is held on a shovel over\nthe fire, or it is bathed in a solution of the fox-glove, which kills\nit; a case where this test was applied is said to have actually\noccurred in Carnarvonshire in 1857. That there is nothing specially\nWelsh in this, needs not to be pointed out. Apart from the fact that\ninfanticide, like murder, is of no country, similar practices as to\nchangelings have prevailed in most European lands, either to test the\nchild's uncanny quality, or, that being admitted, to drive it away and\nthus compel the fairies to restore the missing infant. In Denmark the\nmother heats the oven, and places the changeling on the peel,\npretending to put it in; or whips it severely with a rod; or throws it\ninto the water. In Sweden they employ similar methods. In Ireland the\nhot shovel is used. With regard to a changeling which Martin Luther\ntells of in his 'Colloquia Mensalia,' the great reformer declared to\nthe Prince of Anhalt, that if he were prince of that country he would\n'venture _homicidium_ thereon, and would throw it into the River\nMoldaw.' He admonished the people to pray devoutly to God to take away\nthe devil, which 'was done accordingly; and the second year after the\nchangeling died.' It is hardly probable that the child was very well\nfed during the two years that this pious process was going on. Its\nstarved ravenous appetite indeed is indicated in Luther's description:\nIt 'would eat as much as two threshers, would laugh and be joyful when\nany evil happened in the house, but would cry and be very sad when all\nwent well.'\n\n\nII.\n\nA story, told in various forms in Wales, preserves a tradition of an\nexceedingly frugal meal which was employed as a means of banishing a\nplentyn-newid. M. Villemarque, when in Glamorganshire, heard this\nstory, which he found to be precisely the same as a Breton legend, in\nwhich the changeling utters a rhymed triad as follows:\n\n    Gweliz vi ken guelet iar wenn,\n    Gweliz mez ken gwelet gwezen.\n    Gweliz mez ha gweliz gwial,\n    Gweliz derven e Koat Brezal,\n    Biskoaz na weliz kemend all.\n\nIn the Glamorgan story the changeling was heard muttering to himself\nin a cracked voice: 'I have seen the acorn before I saw the oak: I\nhave seen the egg before I saw the white hen: I have never seen the\nlike of this.' M. Villemarque found it remarkable that these words\nform in Welsh a rhymed triad nearly the same as in the Breton ballad,\nthus:\n\n    Gweliz mez ken gwelet derven,\n    Gweliz vi ken gwelet iar wenn,\n    Erioez ne wiliz evelhenn.[34]\n\nWhence he concluded that the story and the rhyme are older than the\nseventh century, the epoch of the separation of the Britons of Wales\nand Armorica. And this is the story: A mother whose child had been\nstolen, and a changeling left in its place, was advised by the Virgin\nMary to prepare a meal for ten farm-servants in an egg-shell, which\nwould make the changeling speak. This she did, and the changeling\nasked what she was about. She told him. Whereupon he exclaimed, 'A\nmeal for ten, dear mother, in one egg-shell?' Then he uttered the\nexclamation given above, ('I have seen the acorn,' etc.,) and the\nmother replied, 'You have seen too many things, my son, you shall have\na beating.' With this she fell to beating him, the child fell to\nbawling, and the fairy came and took him away, leaving the stolen\nchild sleeping sweetly in the cradle. It awoke and said, 'Ah, mother,\nI have been a long time asleep!'\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[34] Keightley, 'Fairy Mythology,' 437.\n\n\nIII.\n\nI have encountered this tale frequently among the Welsh, and it always\nkeeps in the main the likeness of M. Villemarque's story. The\nfollowing is a nearly literal version as related in Radnorshire (an\nadjoining county to Montgomeryshire), and which, like most of these\ntales, is characterised by the non-primitive tendency to give names of\nlocalities: 'In the parish of Trefeglwys, near Llanidloes, in the\ncounty of Montgomery, there is a little shepherd's cot that is\ncommonly called the Place of Strife, on account of the extraordinary\nstrife that has been there. The inhabitants of the cottage were a man\nand his wife, and they had born to them twins, whom the woman nursed\nwith great care and tenderness. Some months after, indispensable\nbusiness called the wife to the house of one of her nearest\nneighbours, yet notwithstanding that she had not far to go, she did\nnot like to leave her children by themselves in their cradle, even for\na minute, as her house was solitary, and there were many tales of\ngoblins, or the Tylwyth Teg, haunting the neighbourhood. However, she\nwent and returned as soon as she could;' but on her way back she was\n'not a little terrified at seeing, though it was midday, some of the\nold elves of the blue petticoat.' She hastened home in great\napprehension; but all was as she had left it, so that her mind was\ngreatly relieved. 'But after some time had passed by, the good people\nbegan to wonder that the twins did not grow at all, but still\ncontinued little dwarfs. The man would have it that they were not his\nchildren; the woman said they must be their children, and about this\narose the great strife between them that gave name to the place. One\nevening when the woman was very heavy of heart, she determined to go\nand consult a conjuror, feeling assured that everything was known to\nhim.... Now there was to be a harvest soon of the rye and oats, so the\nwise man said to her, \"When you are preparing dinner for the reapers,\nempty the shell of a hen's egg, and boil the shell full of pottage,\nand take it out through the door as if you meant it for a dinner to\nthe reapers, and then listen what the twins will say; if you hear the\nchildren speaking things above the understanding of children, return\ninto the house, take them and throw them into the waves of Llyn Ebyr,\nwhich is very near to you; but if you don't hear anything remarkable\ndo them no injury.\" And when the day of the reaping came, the woman\ndid as her adviser had recommended to her; and as she went outside the\ndoor to listen she heard one of the children say to the other:\n\n    Gwelais fesen cyn gweled derwen;\n    Gwelais wy cyn gweled iar;\n    Erioed ni welais ferwi bwyd i fedel\n    Mewn plisgyn wy iar!\n\n    Acorns before oak I knew;\n    An egg before a hen;\n    Never one hen's egg-shell stew\n    Enough for harvest men!\n\n'On this the mother returned to her house and took the two children\nand threw them into the Llyn; and suddenly the goblins in their blue\ntrousers came to save their dwarfs, and the mother had her own\nchildren back again; and thus the strife between her and her husband\nended.'[35]\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[35] 'Cambrian Quarterly,' ii., 86.\n\n\nIV.\n\nThis class of story is not always confined to the case of the\nplentyn-newid, as I have said. It is applied to the household fairy,\nwhen the latter, as in the following instance, appears to have brought\na number of extremely noisy friends and acquaintances to share his\nshelter. Dewi Dal was a farmer, whose house was over-run with fairies,\nso that he could not sleep of nights for the noise they made. Dewi\nconsulted a wise man of Taiar, who entrusted Dewi's wife to do certain\nthings, which she did carefully, as follows: 'It was the commencement\nof oat harvest, when Cae Mawr, or the big field, which it took fifteen\nmen to mow in a day, was ripe for the harvesters. \"I will prepare food\nfor the fifteen men who are going to mow Cae Mawr to-morrow,\" said\nEurwallt, the wife, aloud. \"Yes, do,\" replied Dewi, also aloud, so\nthat the fairies might hear, \"and see that the food is substantial and\nsufficient for the hard work before them.\" Said Eurwallt, \"The fifteen\nmen shall have no reason to complain upon that score. They shall be\nfed according to our means.\" Then when evening was come Eurwallt\nprepared food for the harvesters' sustenance upon the following day.\nHaving procured a sparrow, she trussed it like a fowl, and roasted it\nby the kitchen fire. She then placed some salt in a nut-shell, and set\nthe sparrow and the salt, with a small piece of bread, upon the table,\nready for the fifteen men's support while mowing Cae Mawr. So when the\nfairies beheld the scanty provision made for so many men, they said\n\"Let us quickly depart from this place, for alas! the means of our\nhosts are exhausted. Who before this was ever so reduced in\ncircumstances as to serve up a sparrow for the day's food of fifteen\nmen?\" So they departed upon that very night. And Dewi Dal and his\nfamily lived, ever afterwards, in comfort and peace.'[36]\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[36] Rev. T. R. Lloyd (Estyn), in 'The Principality.'\n\n\nV.\n\nThe Welsh fairies have several times been detected in the act of\ncarrying off a child; and in these cases, if the mother has been\nsufficiently energetic in her objections, they have been forced to\nabandon their purpose. Dazzy Walter, the wife of Abel Walter, of Ebwy\nFawr, one night in her husband's absence awoke in her bed and found\nher baby was not at her side. In great fright she sought for it, and\ncaught it with her hand upon the boards above the bed, which was as\nfar as the fairies had succeeded in carrying it. And Jennet Francis,\nof that same valley of Ebwy Fawr, one night in bed felt her infant son\nbeing taken from her arms; whereupon she screamed and hung on, and, as\nshe phrased it, 'God and me were too hard for them.' This son\nsubsequently grew up and became a famous preacher of the gospel.\n\n  [Illustration: JENNET FRANCIS STRUGGLES WITH THE FAIRIES FOR\n      HER BABY.]\n\nThere are special exorcisms and preventive measures to interfere with\nthe fairies in their quest of infants. The most significant of these,\nthroughout Cambria, is a general habit of piety. Any pious\nexclamation has value as an exorcism; but it will not serve as a\npreventive. To this end you must put a knife in the child's cradle\nwhen you leave it alone, or you must lay a pair of tongs across the\ncradle. But the best preventive is baptism; it is usually the\nunbaptised infant that is stolen. So in Friesland, Germany, it is\nconsidered a protection against the fairies who deal in changelings,\nto lay a Bible under the child's pillow. In Thuringia it is deemed an\ninfallible preventive to hang the father's breeches against the wall.\nAnything more trivial than this, as a matter for the consideration of\ngrave and scholarly men, one could hardly imagine; but it is in\nprecisely these trivial or seemingly trivial details that the student\nof comparative folk-lore finds his most extraordinary indices. Such a\nsuperstition in isolation would suggest nothing; but it is found again\nin Scotland,[37] and other countries, including China, where 'a pair\nof the trousers of the child's father are put on the frame of the\nbedstead in such a way that the waist shall hang downward or be lower\nthan the legs. On the trousers is stuck a piece of red paper, having\nfour words written upon it intimating that all unfavourable influences\nare to go into the trousers instead of afflicting the babe.'[38]\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[37] Henderson, 'Notes on the Folk-Lore of the Northern Counties,' 6.\n\n[38] See Doolittle's 'Social Life of the Chinese.'\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\n    Living with the Tylwyth Teg--The Tale of Elidurus--Shui Rhys\n    and the Fairies--St. Dogmell's Parish,\n    Pembrokeshire--Dancing with the Ellyllon--The Legend of Rhys\n    and Llewellyn--Death from joining in the Fairy Reel--Legend\n    of the Bush of Heaven--The Forest of the Magic Yew--The Tale\n    of Twm and Iago--Taffy ap Sion, a Legend of Pencader--The\n    Traditions of Pant Shon Shenkin--Tudur of Llangollen; the\n    Legend of Nant yr Ellyllon--Polly Williams and the Trefethin\n    Elves--The Fairies of Frennifawr--Curiosity Tales--The Fiend\n    Master--Iago ap Dewi--The Original of Rip van Winkle.\n\n\nI.\n\nClosely akin to the subject of changelings is that of adults or\nwell-grown children being led away to live with the Tylwyth Teg. In\nthis field the Welsh traditions are innumerable, and deal not only\nwith the last century or two, but distinctly with the middle ages.\nFamed among British goblins are those fairies which are immortalised\nin the Tale of Elidurus. This tale was written in Latin by Giraldus\nCambrensis (as he called himself, after the pedantic fashion of his\nday), a Welshman, born at Pembroke Castle, and a hearty admirer of\neverything Welsh, himself included. He was beyond doubt a man of\ngenius, and of profound learning. In 1188 he made a tour through\nWales, in the interest of the crusade then in contemplation, and\nafterwards wrote his book--a fascinating picture of manners and\ncustoms in Wales in the twelfth century.\n\nThe scene of the tale is that Vale of Neath, already named as a famous\ncentre of fairyland. Elidurus, when a youth of twelve years, 'in order\nto avoid the severity of his preceptor,' ran away from school, 'and\nconcealed himself under the hollow bank of a river.' After he had\nfasted in that situation for two days, 'two little men of pigmy\nstature appeared to him,' and said, 'If you will go with us, we will\nlead you into a country full of delights and sports.' Assenting,\nElidurus rose up and 'followed his guides through a path at first\nsubterraneous and dark, into a most beautiful country, but obscure and\nnot illuminated with the full light of the sun.' All the days in that\ncountry 'were cloudy, and the nights extremely dark.' The boy was\nbrought before the king of the strange little people, and introduced\nto him in the presence of his Court. Having examined Elidurus for a\nlong time, the king delivered him to his son, that prince being then a\nboy. The men of this country, though of the smallest stature, were\nvery well proportioned, fair-complexioned, and wore long hair. 'They\nhad horses and greyhounds adapted to their size. They neither ate\nflesh nor fish, but lived on milk-diet, made up into messes with\nsaffron. As often as they returned from our hemisphere, they\nreprobated our ambition, infidelities, and inconstancies; and though\nthey had no form of public worship, were, it seems, strict lovers and\nreverers of truth. The boy frequently returned to our hemisphere,\nsometimes by the way he had gone, sometimes by others; at first in\ncompany, and afterwards alone; and made himself known only to his\nmother, to whom he described what he had seen. Being desired by her to\nbring her a present of gold, with which that country abounded, he\nstole, whilst at play with the king's son, a golden ball with which he\nused to divert himself, and brought it in haste to his mother, but not\nunpursued; for, as he entered the house of his father, he stumbled at\nthe threshold;' the ball fell, 'and two pigmies seizing it, departed,\nshowing the boy every mark of contempt and derision. Notwithstanding\nevery attempt for the space of a year, he never again could find the\ntrack to the subterraneous passage.' He had made himself acquainted\nwith the language of his late hosts, 'which was very conformable to\nthe Greek idiom. When they asked for water, they said _Udor udorum_;\nwhen they want salt, they say _Halgein udorum_.'[39]\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[39] See Sir R. C. Hoare's Translation of Giraldus.\n\n\nII.\n\nExactly similar to this medieval legend in spirit, although differing\nwidely in detail, is the modern story of Shui Rhys, told to me by a\npeasant in Cardiganshire. Shui was a beautiful girl of seventeen, tall\nand fair, with a skin like ivory, hair black and curling, and eyes of\ndark velvet. She was but a poor farmer's daughter, notwithstanding her\nbeauty, and among her duties was that of driving up the cows for the\nmilking. Over this work she used to loiter sadly, to pick flowers by\nthe way, or chase the butterflies, or amuse herself in any agreeable\nmanner that fortune offered. For her loitering she was often chided;\nindeed, people said Shui's mother was far too sharp with the girl, and\nthat it was for no good the mother had so bitter a tongue. After all\nthe girl meant no harm, they said. But when one night Shui never came\nhome till bed-time, leaving the cows to care for themselves, dame Rhys\ntook the girl to task as she never had done before. 'Ysgwaetheroedd,\nmami,' said Shui, 'I couldn't help it; it was the Tylwyth Teg.' The\ndame was aghast at this, but she could not answer it--for well she\nknew the Tylwyth Teg were often seen in the woods of Cardigan. Shui\nwas at first shy about talking of the fairies, but finally confessed\nthey were little men in green coats, who danced around her and made\nmusic on their tiny harps; and they talked to her in language too\nbeautiful to be repeated; indeed she couldn't understand the words,\nthough she knew well enough what the fairies meant. Many a time after\nthat Shui was late; but now nobody chided her, for fear of offending\nthe fairies. At last one night Shui did not come home at all. In alarm\nthe woods were searched; there was no sign of her; and never was she\nseen in Cardigan again. Her mother watched in the fields on the\nTeir-nos Ysprydion, or three nights of the year when goblins are sure\nto be abroad; but Shui never returned. Once indeed there came back to\nthe neighbourhood a wild rumour that Shui Rhys had been seen in a\ngreat city in a foreign land--Paris, perhaps, or London, who knows?\nbut this tale was in no way injurious to the sad belief that the\nfairies had carried her off; they might take her to those well-known\ncentres of idle and sinful pleasure, as well as to any other place.\n\n  [Illustration: SHUI RHYS AND THE TYLWYTH TEG.]\n\n\nIII.\n\nAn old man who died in St. Dogmell's parish, Pembrokeshire, a short\ntime since (viz., in 1860), nearly a hundred years old, used to say\nthat that whole neighbourhood was considered 'fou.' It was a common\nexperience for men to be led astray there all night, and after\nmarvellous adventures and untellable trampings, which seemed as if\nthey would be endless, to find when day broke that they were close to\ntheir own homes. In one case, a man who was led astray chanced to have\nwith him a number of hoop-rods, and as he wandered about under the\ninfluence of the deluding phantom, he was clever enough to drop the\nrods one by one, so that next day he might trace his journeyings. When\ndaylight came, and the search for the hoop-rods was entered on, it was\nfound they were scattered over miles upon miles of country. Another\ntime, a St. Dogmell's fisherman was returning home from a wedding at\nMoelgrove, and it being very dark, the fairies led him astray, but\nafter a few hours he had the good luck (which Sir John Franklin might\nhave envied him) to 'discover the North Pole,' and by this beacon he\nwas able to steer his staggering barque to the safe port of his own\nthreshold. It is even gravely stated that a severe and dignified\nclerical person, no longer in the frisky time of life, but advanced in\nyears, was one night forced to join in the magic dance of St.\nDogmell's, and keep it up till nearly daybreak. Specific details in\nthis instance are wanting; but it was no doubt the Ellyllon who led\nall these folk astray, and put a cap of oblivion on their heads, which\nprevented them from ever telling their adventures clearly.\n\n\nIV.\n\nDancing and music play a highly important part in stories of this\nclass. The Welsh fairies are most often dancing together when seen.\nThey seek to entice mortals to dance with them, and when anyone is\ndrawn to do so, it is more than probable he will not return to his\nfriends for a long time. Edmund William Rees, of Aberystruth, was thus\ndrawn away by the fairies, and came back at the year's end, looking\nvery bad. But he could not give a very clear account of what he had\nbeen about, only said he had been dancing. This was a common thing in\nthese cases. Either they were not able to, or they dared not, talk\nabout their experiences.\n\nTwo farm servants named Rhys and Llewellyn were one evening at\ntwilight returning home from their work, when Rhys cried out that he\nheard the fairy music. Llewellyn could hear nothing, but Rhys said it\nwas a tune to which he had danced a hundred times, and would again,\nand at once. 'Go on,' says he, 'and I'll soon catch you up again.'\nLlewellyn objected, but Rhys stopped to hear no more; he bounded away\nand left Llewellyn to go home alone, which he did, believing Rhys had\nmerely gone off on a spree, and would come home drunk before morning.\nBut the morning came, and no Rhys. In vain search was made, still no\nRhys. Time passed on; days grew into months; and at last suspicion\nfell on Llewellyn, that he had murdered Rhys. He was put in prison. A\nfarmer learned in fairy-lore, suspecting how it was, proposed that he\nand a company of neighbours should go with poor Llewellyn to the spot\nwhere he had last seen Rhys. Agreed. Arrived at the spot, 'Hush,'\ncried Llewellyn, 'I hear music! I hear the sweet music of the harps!'\nThey all listened, but could hear nothing. 'Put your foot on mine,\nDavid,' says Llewellyn to one of the company; his own foot was on the\noutward edge of a fairy ring as he spoke. David put his foot on\nLlewellyn's, and so did they all, one after another; and then they\nheard the sound of many harps, and saw within a circle about twenty\nfeet across, great numbers of little people dancing round and round.\nAnd there was Rhys, dancing away like a madman! As he came whirling\nby, Llewellyn caught him by his smock-frock and pulled him out of the\ncircle. 'Where are the horses? where are the horses?' cried Rhys in an\nexcited manner. 'Horses, indeed!' sneered Llewellyn, in great disgust;\n'wfft! go home. Horses!' But Rhys was for dancing longer, declaring he\nhad not been there five minutes. 'You've been there,' says Llewellyn,\n'long enough to come near getting me hanged, anyhow.' They got him\nhome finally, but he was never the same man again, and soon after he\ndied.\n\n\nV.\n\nIn the great majority of these stories the hero dies immediately after\nhis release from the thraldom of the fairies--in some cases with a\nsuddenness and a completeness of obliteration as appalling as\ndramatic. The following story, well known in Carmarthenshire, presents\nthis detail with much force: There was a certain farmer who, while\ngoing early one morning to fetch his horses from the pasture, heard\nharps playing. Looking carefully about for the source of this music,\nhe presently saw a company of Tylwyth Teg footing it merrily in a\ncorelw. Resolving to join their dance and cultivate their\nacquaintance, the farmer stepped into the fairy ring. Never had man\nhis resolution more thoroughly carried out, for having once begun the\nreel he was not allowed to finish it till years had elapsed. Even then\nhe might not have been released, had it not chanced that a man one day\npassed by the lonely spot, so close to the ring that he saw the farmer\ndancing. 'Duw catto ni!' cried the man, 'God save us! but this is a\nmerry one. Hai, holo! man, what, in Heaven's name, makes you so\nlively?' This question, in which the name of Heaven was uttered, broke\nthe spell which rested on the farmer, who spoke like one in a dream:\n'O dyn!' cried he, 'what's become of the horses?' Then he stepped from\nthe fairy circle and instantly crumbled away and mingled his dust with\nthe earth.\n\nA similar tale is told in Carnarvon, but with the fairy dance omitted\nand a pious character substituted, which helps to indicate the\nantiquity of this class of legend, by showing that it was one of the\nmonkish adoptions of an earlier story. Near Clynog, in Carnarvonshire,\nthere is a place called Llwyn y Nef, (the Bush of Heaven,) which thus\nreceived its name: In Clynog lived a monk of most devout life, who\nlonged to be taken to heaven. One evening, whilst walking without the\nmonastery by the riverside, he sat down under a green tree and fell\ninto a deep reverie, which ended in sleep; and he slept for thousands\nof years. At last he heard a voice calling unto him, 'Sleeper, awake\nand be up.' He awoke. All was strange to him except the old monastery,\nwhich still looked down upon the river. He went to the monastery, and\nwas made much of. He asked for a bed to rest himself on and got it.\nNext morning when the brethren sought him, they found nothing in the\nbed but a handful of ashes.[40]\n\nSo in the monkish tale of the five saints, who sleep in the cave of\nCaio, reappears the legend of Arthur's sleeping warriors under\nCraig-y-Ddinas.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[40] 'Cymru Fu,' 188.\n\n\nVI.\n\n  [Illustration: PLUCKED FROM THE FAIRY CIRCLE.]\n\nA tradition is current in Mathavarn, in the parish of Llanwrin, and\nthe Cantref of Cyfeillioc, concerning a certain wood called Ffridd yr\nYwen, (the Forest of the Yew,) that it is so called on account of a\nmagical yew-tree which grows exactly in the middle of the forest.\nUnder that tree there is a fairy circle called The Dancing Place of\nthe Goblin. There are several fairy circles in the Forest of the Yew,\nbut the one under the yew-tree in the middle has this legend connected\nwith it: Many years ago, two farm-servants, whose names were Twm and\nIago, went out one day to work in the Forest of the Yew. Early in the\nafternoon the country became covered with so dense a mist that the\nyouths thought the sun was setting, and they prepared to go home; but\nwhen they came to the yew-tree in the middle of the forest, suddenly\nthey found all light around them. They now thought it too early to go\nhome, and concluded to lie down under the yew-tree and have a nap.\nBy-and-by Twm awoke, to find his companion gone. He was much surprised\nat this, but concluded Iago had gone to the village on an errand of\nwhich they had been speaking before they fell asleep. So Twm went\nhome, and to all inquiries concerning Iago, he answered, 'Gone to the\ncobbler's in the village.' But Iago was still absent next morning, and\nnow Twm was cross-questioned severely as to what had become of his\nfellow-servant. Then he confessed that they had fallen asleep under\nthe yew where the fairy circle was, and from that moment he had seen\nnothing more of Iago. They searched the whole forest over, and the\nwhole country round, for many days, and finally Twm went to a gwr\ncyfarwydd (or conjuror), a common trade in those days, says the\nlegend. The conjuror gave him this advice: 'Go to the same place where\nyou and the lad slept. Go there exactly a year after the boy was lost.\nLet it be on the same day of the year and at the same time of the day;\nbut take care that you do not step inside the fairy ring. Stand on the\nborder of the green circle you saw there, and the boy will come out\nwith many of the goblins to dance. When you see him so near to you\nthat you may take hold of him, snatch him out of the ring as quickly\nas you can.' These instructions were obeyed. Iago appeared, dancing in\nthe ring with the Tylwyth Teg, and was promptly plucked forth. 'Duw!\nDuw!' cried Tom, 'how wan and pale you look! And don't you feel hungry\ntoo?' 'No,' said the boy, 'and if I did, have I not here in my wallet\nthe remains of my dinner that I had before I fell asleep?' But when he\nlooked in his wallet, the food was not there. 'Well, it must be time\nto go home,' he said, with a sigh; for he did not know that a year had\npassed by. His look was like a skeleton, and as soon as he had tasted\nfood, he mouldered away.\n\n\nVII.\n\nTaffy ap Sion, the shoemaker's son, living near Pencader,\nCarmarthenshire, was a lad who many years ago entered the fairy circle\non the mountain hard by there, and having danced a few minutes, as he\nsupposed, chanced to step out. He was then astonished to find that the\nscene which had been so familiar was now quite strange to him. Here\nwere roads and houses he had never seen, and in place of his father's\nhumble cottage there now stood a fine stone farm-house. About him were\nlovely cultivated fields instead of the barren mountain he was\naccustomed to. 'Ah,' thought he, 'this is some fairy trick to deceive\nmy eyes. It is not ten minutes since I stepped into that circle, and\nnow when I step out they have built my father a new house! Well, I only\nhope it is real; anyhow, I'll go and see.' So he started off by a path\nhe knew instinctively, and suddenly struck against a very solid hedge.\nHe rubbed his eyes, felt the hedge with his fingers, scratched his\nhead, felt the hedge again, ran a thorn into his fingers and cried out,\n'Wbwb! this is no fairy hedge anyhow, nor, from the age of the thorns,\nwas it grown in a few minutes' time.' So he climbed over it and walked\non. 'Here was I born,' said he, as he entered the farmyard, staring\nwildly about him, 'and not a thing here do I know!' His mystification\nwas complete when there came bounding towards him a huge dog, barking\nfuriously. 'What dog is this? Get out, you ugly brute! Don't you know\nI'm master here?--at least, when mother's from home, for father don't\ncount.' But the dog only barked the harder. 'Surely,' muttered Taffy to\nhimself, 'I have lost my road and am wandering through some unknown\nneighbourhood; but no, yonder is the Careg Hir!' and he stood staring\nat the well-known erect stone thus called, which still stands on the\nmountain south of Pencader, and is supposed to have been placed there\nin ancient times to commemorate a victory. As Taffy stood thus looking\nat the Long Stone, he heard footsteps behind him, and turning, beheld\nthe occupant of the farm-house, who had come out to see why his dog was\nbarking. Poor Taffy was so ragged and wan that the farmer's Welsh heart\nwas at once stirred to sympathy. 'Who are you, poor man?' he asked. To\nwhich Taffy answered, 'I know who I was, but I do not know who I _am\nnow_. I was the son of a shoemaker who lived in this place, this\nmorning; for that rock, though it is changed a little, I know too\nwell.' 'Poor fellow,' said the farmer, 'you have lost your senses. This\nhouse was built by my great-grandfather, repaired by my grandfather;\nand that part there, which seems newly built, was done about three\nyears ago at my expense. You must be deranged, or have missed the road;\nbut come in and refresh yourself with some victuals, and rest.' Taffy\nwas half persuaded that he had overslept himself and lost his road, but\nlooking back he saw the rock before mentioned, and exclaimed, 'It is\nbut an hour since I was on yonder rock robbing a hawk's nest.' 'Where\nhave you been since?' Taffy related his adventure. 'Ah,' quoth the\nfarmer, 'I see how it is--you have been with the fairies. Pray, who was\nyour father?' 'Sion Evan y Crydd o Glanrhyd,' was the answer. 'I never\nheard of such a man,' said the farmer, shaking his head, 'nor of such a\nplace as Glanrhyd, either: but no matter, after you have taken a little\nfood we will step down to Catti Shon, at Pencader, who will probably be\nable to tell us something.' With this he beckoned Taffy to follow him,\nand walked on; but hearing behind him the sound of footsteps growing\nweaker and weaker, he turned round, when to his horror he beheld the\npoor fellow crumble in an instant to about a thimbleful of black ashes.\nThe farmer, though much terrified at this sight, preserved his calmness\nsufficiently to go at once and see old Catti, the aged crone he had\nreferred to, who lived at Pencader, near by. He found her crouching\nover a fire of faggots, trying to warm her old bones. 'And how do you\ndo the day, Catti Shon?' asked the farmer. 'Ah,' said old Catti, 'I'm\nwonderful well, farmer, considering how old I am.' 'Yes, yes, you're\nvery old. Now, since you are so old, let me ask you--do you remember\nanything about Sion y Crydd o Glanrhyd? Was there ever such a man, do\nyou know?' 'Sion Glanrhyd? O! I have some faint recollection of hearing\nmy grandfather, old Evan Shenkin, Penferdir, relate that Sion's son was\nlost one morning, and they never heard of him afterwards, so that it\nwas said he was taken by the fairies. His father's cot stood somewhere\nnear your house.' 'Were there many fairies about at that time?' asked\nthe farmer. 'O yes; they were often seen on yonder hill, and I was told\nthey were lately seen in Pant Shon Shenkin, eating flummery out of\negg-shells, which they had stolen from a farm hard by.' 'Dir anwyl fi!'\ncried the farmer; 'dear me! I recollect now--I saw them myself!'\n\nPant Shon[41] Shenkin, it must be here remarked, was a famous place\nfor the Carmarthenshire fairies. The traditions thereabout respecting\nthem are numerous. Among the strangest is, that a woman once actually\ncaught a fairy on the mountain near Pant Shon Shenkin, and that it\nremained long in her custody, retaining still the same height and\nsize, but at last made its escape.\n\nAnother curious tradition relates that early one Easter Monday, when\nthe parishioners of Pencarreg and Caio were met to play at football,\nthey saw a numerous company of Tylwyth Teg dancing. Being so many in\nnumber, the young men were not intimidated at all, but proceeded in a\nbody towards the puny tribe, who, perceiving them, removed to another\nplace. The young men followed, whereupon the little folks suddenly\nappeared dancing at the first place. Seeing this, the men divided and\nsurrounded them, when they immediately became invisible, and were\nnever more seen there.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[41] Sion and Shon are the same word, just as are our Smith and Smyth.\nWhere there are so few personal names as in Wales, while I would not\nmyself change a single letter in order to render the actors in a tale\nmore distinct, it is perhaps as well to encourage any eccentricities\nof spelling which we are so lucky as to find on the spot.\n\n\nVIII.\n\nIgnorance of what transpired in the fairy circle is not an invariable\nfeature of legends like those we have been observing. In the story of\nTudur of Llangollen, preserved by several old Welsh writers, the\nhero's experiences are given with much liveliness of detail. The scene\nof this tale is a hollow near Llangollen, on the mountain side\nhalf-way up to the ruins of Dinas Bran Castle, which hollow is to this\nday called Nant yr Ellyllon. It obtained its name, according to\ntradition, in this wise: A young man, called Tudur ap Einion Gloff,\nused in old times to pasture his master's sheep in that hollow. One\nsummer's night, when Tudur was preparing to return to the lowlands\nwith his woolly charge, there suddenly appeared, perched upon a stone\nnear him, 'a little man in moss breeches with a fiddle under his arm.\nHe was the tiniest wee specimen of humanity imaginable. His coat was\nmade of birch leaves, and he wore upon his head a helmet which\nconsisted of a gorse flower, while his feet were encased in pumps made\nof beetle's wings. He ran his fingers over his instrument, and the\nmusic made Tudur's hair stand on end. \"Nos da'ch', nos da'ch',\" said\nthe little man, which means \"Good-night, good-night to you,\" in\nEnglish. \"Ac i chwithau,\" replied Tudur; which again, in English,\nmeans \"The same to you.\" Then continued the little man, \"You are fond\nof dancing, Tudur; and if you but tarry awhile you shall behold some\nof the best dancers in Wales, and I am the musician.\" Quoth Tudur,\n\"Then where is your harp? A Welshman even cannot dance without a\nharp.\" \"Oh,\" said the little man, \"I can discourse better dance music\nupon my fiddle.\" \"Is it a fiddle you call that stringed wooden spoon\nin your hand?\" asked Tudur, for he had never seen such an instrument\nbefore. And now Tudur beheld through the dusk hundreds of pretty\nlittle sprites converging towards the spot where they stood, from all\nparts of the mountain. Some were dressed in white, and some in blue,\nand some in pink, and some carried glow-worms in their hands for\ntorches. And so lightly did they tread that not a blade nor a flower\nwas crushed beneath their weight, and every one made a curtsey or a\nbow to Tudur as they passed, and Tudur doffed his cap and moved to\nthem in return. Presently the little minstrel drew his bow across the\nstrings of his instrument, and the music produced was so enchanting\nthat Tudur stood transfixed to the spot.' At the sound of the sweet\nmelody, the Tylwyth Teg ranged themselves in groups, and began to\ndance. Now of all the dancing Tudur had ever seen, none was to be\ncompared to that he saw at this moment going on. He could not help\nkeeping time with his hands and feet to the merry music, but he dared\nnot join in the dance, 'for he thought within himself that to dance on\na mountain at night in strange company, to perhaps the devil's fiddle,\nmight not be the most direct route to heaven.' But at last he found\nthere was no resisting this bewitching strain, joined to the sight of\nthe capering Ellyllon. '\"Now for it, then,\" screamed Tudur, as he\npitched his cap into the air under the excitement of delight. \"Play\naway, old devil; brimstone and water, if you like!\" No sooner were the\nwords uttered than everything underwent a change. The gorse-blossom\ncap vanished from the minstrel's head, and a pair of goat's horns\nbranched out instead. His face turned as black as soot; a long tail\ngrew out of his leafy coat, while cloven feet replaced the beetle-wing\npumps. Tudur's heart was heavy, but his heels were light. Horror was\nin his bosom, but the impetus of motion was in his feet. The fairies\nchanged into a variety of forms. Some became goats, and some became\ndogs, some assumed the shape of foxes, and others that of cats. It was\nthe strangest crew that ever surrounded a human being. The dance\nbecame at last so furious that Tudur could not distinctly make out the\nforms of the dancers. They reeled around him with such rapidity that\nthey almost resembled a wheel of fire. Still Tudur danced on. He could\nnot stop, the devil's fiddle was too much for him, as the figure with\nthe goat's horns kept pouring it out with unceasing vigour, and Tudur\nkept reeling around in spite of himself. Next day Tudur's master\nascended the mountain in search of the lost shepherd and his sheep. He\nfound the sheep all right at the foot of the Fron, but fancy his\nastonishment when, ascending higher, he saw Tudur spinning like mad in\nthe middle of the basin now known as Nant yr Ellyllon.' Some pious\nwords of the master broke the charm, and restored Tudur to his home in\nLlangollen, where he told his adventures with great gusto for many\nyears afterwards.[42]\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[42] Rev. T. R. Lloyd (Estyn), in 'The Principality.'\n\n\nIX.\n\nPolly Williams, a good dame who was born in Trefethin parish, and\nlived at the Ship Inn, at Pontypool, Monmouthshire, was wont to relate\nthat, when a child, she danced with the Tylwyth Teg. The first time\nwas one day while coming home from school. She saw the fairies\ndancing in a pleasant, dry place, under a crab-tree, and, thinking\nthey were children like herself, went to them, when they induced her\nto dance with them. She brought them into an empty barn and they\ndanced there together. After that, during three or four years, she\noften met and danced with them, when going to or coming from school.\nShe never could hear the sound of their feet, and having come to know\nthat they were fairies, took off her ffollachau (clogs), so that she,\ntoo, might make no noise, fearful that the clattering of her\nclog-shodden feet was displeasing to them. They were all dressed in\nblue and green aprons, and, though they were so small, she could see\nby their mature faces that they were no children. Once when she came\nhome barefoot, after dancing with the fairies, she was chided for\ngoing to school in that condition; but she held her tongue about the\nfairies, for fear of trouble, and never told of them till after she\ngrew up. She gave over going with them to dance, however, after three\nor four years, and this displeased them. They tried to coax her back\nto them, and, as she would not come, hurt her by dislocating 'one of\nher walking members,'[43] which, as a euphemism for legs, surpasses\nanything charged against American prudery.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[43] Jones, 'Apparitions.'\n\n\nX.\n\nContrasting strongly with this matter-of-fact account of a modern\nwitness is the glowing description of fairy life contained in the\nlegend of the Fairies of Frennifawr. About ten miles south of Cardigan\nis the Pembrokeshire mountain called Frennifawr, which is the scene of\nthis tale: A shepherd's lad was tending his sheep on the small\nmountains called Frennifach one fine morning in June. Looking to the\ntop of Frennifawr to note what way the fog hung--for if the fog on\nthat mountain hangs on the Pembrokeshire side, there will be fair\nweather, if on the Cardigan side, storm--he saw the Tylwyth Teg, in\nappearance like tiny soldiers, dancing in a ring. He set out for the\nscene of revelry, and soon drew near the ring where, in a gay company\nof males and females, they were footing it to the music of the harp.\nNever had he seen such handsome people, nor any so enchantingly\ncheerful. They beckoned him with laughing faces to join them as they\nleaned backward almost falling, whirling round and round with joined\nhands. Those who were dancing never swerved from the perfect circle;\nbut some were clambering over the old cromlech, and others chasing\neach other with surprising swiftness and the greatest glee. Still\nothers rode about on small white horses of the most beautiful form;\nthese riders were little ladies, and their dresses were indescribably\nelegant, surpassing the sun in radiance, and varied in colour, some\nbeing of bright whiteness, others the most vivid scarlet. The males\nwore red tripled caps, and the ladies a light fantastic headdress\nwhich waved in the wind. All this was in silence, for the shepherd\ncould not hear the harps, though he saw them. But now he drew nearer\nto the circle, and finally ventured to put his foot in the magic ring.\nThe instant he did this, his ears were charmed with strains of the\nmost melodious music he had ever heard. Moved with the transports this\nseductive harmony produced in him, he stepped fully into the ring. He\nwas no sooner in than he found himself in a palace glittering with\ngold and pearls. Every form of beauty surrounded him, and every\nvariety of pleasure was offered him. He was made free to range\nwhither he would, and his every movement was waited on by young women\nof the most matchless loveliness. And no tongue can tell the joys of\nfeasting that were his! Instead of the tatws-a-llaeth (potatoes and\nbuttermilk) to which he had hitherto been accustomed, here were birds\nand meats of every choice description, served on plates of silver.\nInstead of home-brewed cwrw, the only bacchic beverage he had ever\ntasted in real life, here were red and yellow wines of wondrous\nenjoyableness, brought in golden goblets richly inlaid with gems. The\nwaiters were the most beautiful virgins, and everything was in\nabundance. There was but one restriction on his freedom: he must not\ndrink, on any consideration, from a certain well in the garden, in\nwhich swam fishes of every colour, including the colour of gold. Each\nday new joys were provided for his amusement, new scenes of beauty\nwere unfolded to him, new faces presented themselves, more lovely if\npossible than those he had before encountered. Everything was done to\ncharm him; but one day all his happiness fled in an instant.\nPossessing every joy that mortal could desire, he wanted the one thing\nforbidden--like Eve in the garden, like Fatima in the castle;\ncuriosity undid him. He plunged his hand into the well: the fishes all\ndisappeared instantly. He put the water to his mouth: a confused\nshriek ran through the garden. He drank: the palace and all vanished\nfrom his sight, and he stood shivering in the night air, alone on the\nmountain, in the very place where he had first entered the ring.[44]\n\n  [Illustration: THE FATAL DRAUGHT.]\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[44] 'Cambrian Superstitions,' 148. (This is a small collection of\nWelsh stories printed at Tipton in 1831, and now rare; its author was\nW. Howells, a lad of nineteen, and his work was drawn out by a small\nprize offered by Archdeacon Beynon through a Carmarthen newspaper in\n1830. Its English requires rehandling, but its material is of value.)\n\n\nXI.\n\nComment on the resemblances borne by these tales to the more famous\nlegends of other lands, is perhaps unnecessary; they will occur to\nevery reader who is at all familiar with the subject of folk-lore. To\nthose who are not, it is sufficient to say that these resemblances\nexist, and afford still further testimony to the common origin of such\ntales in a remote past. The legend last given embodies the curiosity\nfeature which is familiar through the story of Bluebeard, but has its\nroot in the story of Psyche. She was forbidden to look upon her\nhusband Eros, the god of love; she disobeyed the injunction, and the\nbeautiful palace in which she had dwelt with him vanished in an\ninstant, leaving her alone in a desolate spot. Ages older than the\nPsyche story, however, is the legend embodying the original Aryan\nmyth. The drop of oil which falls upon the shoulder of the sleeping\nprince and wakes him, revealing Psyche's curiosity and destroying her\nhappiness, is paralleled among the Welsh by the magic ointment in the\nlegend of the Fiend Master. This legend, it may be premised, is also\nfamiliar to both France and Germany, where its details differ but\nlittle from those here given: A respectable young Welshwoman of the\nworking class, who lived with her parents, went one day to a hiring\nfair. Here she 'was addressed by a very noble-looking gentleman all in\nblack, who asked her if she would be a nursemaid, and undertake the\nmanagement of his children. She replied that she had no objection;\nwhen he promised her immense wages, and said he would take her home\nbehind him, but that she must, before they started, consent to be\nblindfolded. This done, she mounted behind him on a coal-black steed,\nand away they rode at a great rate. At length they dismounted, when\nher new master took her by the hand and led her on, still blindfolded,\nfor a considerable distance. The handkerchief was then removed, when\nshe beheld more grandeur than she had ever seen before; a beautiful\npalace lighted up by more lights than she could count, and a number of\nlittle children as beautiful as angels; also many noble-looking ladies\nand gentlemen. The children her master put under her charge, and gave\nher a box containing ointment, which she was to put on their eyes. At\nthe same time he gave her strict orders always to wash her hands\nimmediately after using the ointment, and be particularly careful\nnever to let a bit of it touch her own eyes. These injunctions she\nstrictly followed, and was for some time very happy; yet she sometimes\nthought it odd that they should always live by candle-light; and she\nwondered, too, that grand and beautiful as the palace was, such fine\nladies and gentlemen as were there should never wish to leave it. But\nso it was; no one ever went out but her master. One morning, while\nputting the ointment on the eyes of the children, her own eye itched,\nand forgetting the orders of her master she touched one corner of it\nwith her finger which was covered with ointment. Immediately, with the\nvision of that corner of her eye, she saw herself surrounded by\nfearful flames; the ladies and gentlemen looked like devils, and the\nchildren appeared like the most hideous imps of hell. Though with the\nother parts of her eyes she beheld all grand and beautiful as before,\nshe could not help feeling much frightened at all this; but having\ngreat presence of mind she let no one see her alarm. However, she took\nthe first opportunity of asking her master's leave to go and see her\nfriends. He said he would take her, but she must again consent to be\nblindfolded. Accordingly a handkerchief was put over her eyes; she was\nagain mounted behind her master, and was soon put down in the\nneighbourhood of her own house. It will be believed that she remained\nquietly there, and took good care not to return to her place; but very\nmany years afterwards, being at a fair, she saw a man stealing\nsomething from a stall, and with one corner of her eye beheld her old\nmaster pushing his elbow. Unthinkingly she said, \"How are you master?\nhow are the children?\" He said, \"How did you see me?\" She answered,\n\"With the corner of my left eye.\" From that moment she was blind of\nher left eye, and lived many years with only her right.'[45] An older\nlegend preserving this mythical detail is the story of Taliesin. Gwion\nBach's eyes are opened by a drop from Caridwen's caldron falling upon\nhis finger, which he puts in his mouth.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[45] 'Camb. Sup.,' 349.\n\n\nXII.\n\nA Carmarthenshire tradition names among those who lived for a period\namong the Tylwyth Teg no less a person than the translator into Welsh\nof Bunyan's 'Pilgrim's Progress.' He was called Iago ap Dewi, and\nlived in the parish of Llanllawddog, Carmarthenshire, in a cottage\nsituated in the wood of Llangwyly. He was absent from the\nneighbourhood for a long period, and the universal belief among the\npeasantry was that Iago 'got out of bed one night to gaze on the\nstarry sky, as he was accustomed (astrology being one of his favourite\nstudies), and whilst thus occupied the fairies (who were accustomed to\nresort in a neighbouring wood), passing by, carried him away, and he\ndwelt with them seven years. Upon his return he was questioned by many\nas to where he had been, but always avoided giving them a reply.'\n\n\nXIII.\n\nThe wide field of interest opened up in tales of this class is a\nfascinating one to the students of fairy mythology. The whole world\nseems to be the scene of such tales, and collectors of folk-lore in\nmany lands have laid claim to the discovery of 'the original' on\nwhich the story of Rip van Winkle is based. It is an honour to\nAmerican genius, to which I cannot forbear a passing allusion, that of\nall these legends, none has achieved so wide a fame as that which\nWashington Irving has given to our literature, and Joseph Jefferson to\nour stage. It is more than probable that Irving drew his inspiration\nfrom Grimm, and that the Catskills are indebted to the Hartz Mountains\nof Germany for their romantic fame. But the legends are endless in\nwhich occur this unsuspected lapse of time among supernatural beings,\nand the wandering back to the old home to find all changed. In Greece,\nit is Epimenides, the poet, who, while searching for a lost sheep,\nwanders into a cave where he slumbers forty-seven years. The Gaelic\nand Teutonic legends are well known. But our wonder at the vitality of\nthis myth is greatest when we find it in both China and Japan. In the\nJapanese account a young man fishing in his boat on the ocean is\ninvited by the goddess of the sea to her home beneath the waves. After\nthree days he desires to see his old mother and father. On parting she\ngives him a golden casket and a key, but begs him never to open it. At\nthe village where he lived he finds that all is changed, and he can\nget no trace of his parents until an aged woman recollects having\nheard of their names. He finds their graves a hundred years old.\nThinking that three days could not have made such a change, and that\nhe was under a spell, he opens the casket. A white vapour rises, and\nunder its influence the young man falls to the ground. His hair turns\ngrey, his form loses its youth, and in a few moments he dies of old\nage. The Chinese legend relates how two friends wandering amongst the\nravines of their native mountains in search of herbs for medicinal\npurposes, come to a fairy bridge where two maidens of more than\nearthly beauty are on guard. They invite them to the fairy land which\nlies on the other side of the bridge, and the invitation being\naccepted, they become enamoured of the maidens, and pass what to them\nseems a short though blissful period of existence with the fairy folk.\nAt length they desire to revisit their earthly homes and are allowed\nto return, when they find that seven generations have lived and died\nduring their apparently short absence, they themselves having become\ncentenarians.[46] In China, as elsewhere, the legend takes divers\nforms.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[46] Dennys, 'Folk-Lore of China,' 98.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\n    Fairy Music--Birds of Enchantment--The Legend of Shon ap\n    Shenkin--Harp-Music in Welsh Fairy Tales--Legend of the\n    Magic Harp--Songs and Tunes of the Tylwyth Teg--The Legend\n    of Iolo ap Hugh--Mystic Origin of an old Welsh Air.\n\n\nI.\n\nIn those rare cases where it is not dancing which holds the victim of\nTylwyth Teg in its fatal fascination, the seducer is music. There is a\nclass of stories still common in Wales, in which is preserved a\nwondrously beautiful survival of the primitive mythology. In the vast\nmiddle ground between our own commonplace times and the pre-historic\nages we encounter more than once the lovely legend of the Birds of\nRhiannon, which sang so sweetly that the warrior knights stood\nlistening entranced for eighty years. This legend appears in the\nMabinogi of 'Branwen, daughter of Llyr,' and, as we read it there, is\na medieval tale; but the medieval authors of the Mabinogion as we know\nthem were working over old materials--telling again the old tales\nwhich had come down through unnumbered centuries from father to son by\ntradition. Cambrian poets of an earlier age often allude to the birds\nof Rhiannon; they are mentioned in the Triads. In the Mabinogi, the\nperiod the warriors listened is seven years. Seven men only had\nescaped from a certain battle with the Irish, and they were bidden by\ntheir dying chief to cut off his head and bear it to London and bury\nit with the face towards France. Various were the adventures they\nencountered while obeying this injunction. At Harlech they stopped to\nrest, and sat down to eat and drink. 'And there came three birds, and\nbegan singing unto them a certain song, and all the songs they had\never heard were unpleasant compared thereto; and the birds seemed to\nthem to be at a great distance from them over the sea, yet they\nappeared as distinct as if they were close by; and at this repast they\ncontinued seven years.'[47] This enchanting fancy reappears in the\nlocal story of Shon ap Shenkin, which was related to me by a farmer's\nwife near the reputed scene of the legend. Pant Shon Shenkin has\nalready been mentioned as a famous centre for Carmarthenshire fairies.\nThe story of Taffy ap Sion and this of Shon ap Shenkin were probably\none and the same at some period in their career, although they are now\ndistinct. Shon ap Shenkin was a young man who lived hard by Pant Shon\nShenkin. As he was going afield early one fine summer's morning he\nheard a little bird singing, in a most enchanting strain, on a tree\nclose by his path. Allured by the melody he sat down under the tree\nuntil the music ceased, when he arose and looked about him. What was\nhis surprise at observing that the tree, which was green and full of\nlife when he sat down, was now withered and barkless! Filled with\nastonishment he returned to the farm-house which he had left, as he\nsupposed, a few minutes before; but it also was changed, grown older,\nand covered with ivy. In the doorway stood an old man whom he had\nnever before seen; he at once asked the old man what he wanted there.\n'What do I want here?' ejaculated the old man, reddening angrily;\n'that's a pretty question! Who are you that dare to insult me in my\nown house?' 'In your own house? How is this? where's my father and\nmother, whom I left here a few minutes since, whilst I have been\nlistening to the charming music under yon tree, which, when I rose,\nwas withered and leafless?' 'Under the tree!--music! what's your\nname?' 'Shon ap Shenkin.' 'Alas, poor Shon, and is this indeed you!'\ncried the old man. 'I often heard my grandfather, your father, speak\nof you, and long did he bewail your absence. Fruitless inquiries were\nmade for you; but old Catti Maddock of Brechfa said you were under the\npower of the fairies, and would not be released until the last sap of\nthat sycamore tree would be dried up. Embrace me, my dear uncle, for\nyou are my uncle--embrace your nephew.' With this the old man extended\nhis arms, but before the two men could embrace, poor Shon ap Shenkin\ncrumbled into dust on the doorstep.\n\n  [Illustration: SHON AP SHENKIN RETURNS HOME.]\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[47] Lady Charlotte Guest's 'Mabinogion,' 381.\n\n\nII.\n\nThe harp is played by Welsh fairies to an extent unknown in those\nparts of the world where the harp is less popular among the people.\nWhen any instrument is distinctly heard in fairy cymmoedd it is\nusually the harp. Sometimes it is a fiddle, but then on close\nexamination it will be discovered that it is a captured mortal who is\nplaying it; the Tylwyth Teg prefer the harp. They play the bugle on\nspecially grand occasions, and there is a case or two on record where\nthe drone of the bagpipes was heard; but it is not doubted that the\nplayer was some stray fairy from Scotland or elsewhere over the\nborder. On the top of Craig-y-Ddinas thousands of white fairies dance\nto the music of many harps. In the dingle called Cwm Pergwm, in the\nVale of Neath, the Tylwyth Teg make music behind the waterfall, and\nwhen they go off over the mountains the sounds of their harps are\nheard dying away as they recede. The story which presents the Cambrian\nequivalent of the Magic Flute substitutes a harp for the (to\nWelshmen) less familiar instrument. As told to me this story runs\nsomewhat thus: A company of fairies which frequented Cader Idris were\nin the habit of going about from cottage to cottage in that part of\nWales, in pursuit of information concerning the degree of benevolence\npossessed by the cottagers. Those who gave these fairies an ungracious\nwelcome were subject to bad luck during the rest of their lives, but\nthose who were good to the little folk became the recipients of their\nfavour. Old Morgan ap Rhys sat one night in his own chimney corner\nmaking himself comfortable with his pipe and his pint of cwrw da. The\ngood ale having melted his soul a trifle, he was in a more jolly mood\nthan was natural to him, when there came a little rap at the door,\nwhich reached his ear dully through the smoke of his pipe and the\nnoise of his own voice--for in his merriment Morgan was singing a\nroystering song, though he could not sing any better than a haw--which\nis Welsh for a donkey. But Morgan did not take the trouble to get up\nat sound of the rap; his manners were not the most refined; he thought\nit was quite enough for a man on hospitable purposes bent to bawl\nforth in ringing Welsh, 'Gwaed dyn a'i gilydd! Why don't you come in\nwhen you've got as far as the door?' The welcome was not very polite,\nbut it was sufficient. The door opened, and three travellers entered,\nlooking worn and weary. Now these were the fairies from Cader Idris,\ndisguised in this manner for purposes of observation, and Morgan never\nsuspected they were other than they appeared. 'Good sir,' said one of\nthe travellers, 'we are worn and weary, but all we seek is a bite of\nfood to put in our wallet, and then we will go on our way.' 'Waw,\nlads! is that all you want? Well, there, look you, is the loaf and the\ncheese, and the knife lies by them, and you may cut what you like, and\nfill your bellies as well as your wallet, for never shall it be said\nthat Morgan ap Rhys denied bread and cheese to a fellow creature.' The\ntravellers proceeded to help themselves, while Morgan continued to\ndrink and smoke, and to sing after his fashion, which was a very rough\nfashion indeed. As they were about to go, the fairy travellers turned\nto Morgan and said, 'Since you have been so generous we will show that\nwe are grateful. It is in our power to grant you any one wish you may\nhave; therefore tell us what that wish may be.'\n\n'Ho, ho!' said Morgan, 'is that the case? Ah, I see you are making\nsport of me. Wela, wela, the wish of my heart is to have a harp that\nwill play under my fingers no matter how ill I strike it; a harp that\nwill play lively tunes, look you; no melancholy music for me!' He had\nhardly spoken, when to his astonishment, there on the hearth before\nhim stood a splendid harp, and he was alone. 'Waw!' cried Morgan,\n'they're gone already.' Then looking behind him he saw they had not\ntaken the bread and cheese they had cut off, after all. ''Twas the\nfairies, perhaps,' he muttered, but sat serenely quaffing his beer,\nand staring at the harp. There was a sound of footsteps behind him,\nand his wife came in from out doors with some friends. Morgan feeling\nvery jolly, thought he would raise a little laughter among them by\ndisplaying his want of skill upon the harp. So he commenced to\nplay--oh, what a mad and capering tune it was! 'Waw!' said Morgan,\n'but this is a harp. Holo! what ails you all?' For as fast as he\nplayed his neighbours danced, every man, woman, and child of them all\nfooting it like mad creatures. Some of them bounded up against the\nroof of the cottage till their heads cracked again; others spun round\nand round, knocking over the furniture; and, as Morgan went on\nthoughtlessly playing, they began to pray to him to stop before they\nshould be jolted to pieces. But Morgan found the scene too amusing to\nwant to stop; besides, he was enamoured of his own suddenly developed\nskill as a musician; and he twanged the strings and laughed till his\nsides ached and the tears rolled down his cheeks, at the antics of his\nfriends. Tired out at last he stopped, and the dancers fell exhausted\non the floor, the chairs, the tables, declaring the diawl himself was\nin the harp. 'I know a tune worth two of that,' quoth Morgan, picking\nup the harp again; but at sight of this motion all the company rushed\nfrom the house and escaped, leaving Morgan rolling merrily in his\nchair. Whenever Morgan got a little tipsy after that, he would get the\nharp and set everybody round him to dancing; and the consequence was\nhe got a bad name, and no one would go near him. But all their\nprecautions did not prevent the neighbours from being caught now and\nthen, when Morgan took his revenge by making them dance till their\nlegs were broken, or some other damage was done them. Even lame people\nand invalids were compelled to dance whenever they heard the music of\nthis diabolical telyn. In short, Morgan so abused his fairy gift that\none night the good people came and took it away from him, and he never\nsaw it more. The consequence was he became morose, and drank himself\nto death--a warning to all who accept from the fairies favours they do\nnot deserve.\n\n\nIII.\n\nThe music of the Tylwyth Teg has been variously described by people\nwho claim to have heard it; but as a rule with much vagueness, as of a\nsweet intangible harmony, recalling the experience of Caliban:\n\n                              The isle is full of noises;\n    Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight, and hurt not.\n    Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments\n    Will hum about mine ears.[48]\n\nOne Morgan Gwilym, who saw the fairies by Cylepsta Waterfall, and\nheard their music dying away, was only able to recall the last strain,\nwhich he said sounded something like this:\n\n  [Music]\n\nEdmund Daniel, of the Arail, 'an honest man and a constant speaker of\ntruth,' told the Prophet Jones that he often saw the fairies after\nsunset crossing the Cefn Bach from the Valley of the Church towards\nHafodafel, leaping and striking in the air, and making a serpentine\npath through the air, in this form:\n\n  [Illustration: {WAVY HORIZONTAL LINE.}]\n\nThe fairies were seen and heard by many persons in that neighbourhood,\nand sometimes by several persons together. They appeared more often by\nnight than by day, and in the morning and evening more often than\nabout noon. Many heard their music, and said of it that it was low and\npleasant; but that it had this peculiarity: no one could ever learn\nthe tune. In more favoured parts of the Principality, the words of the\nsong were distinctly heard, and under the name of the 'Can y Tylwyth\nTeg' are preserved as follows:\n\n    Dowch, dowch, gyfeillion man,\n    O blith marwolion byd,\n            Dowch, dowch, a dowch yn lan.\n    Partowch partowch eich pibau can,\n    Gan ddawnsio dowch i gyd,\n            Mae yn hyfryd heno i hwn.\n\nOne is reluctant to turn into bald English this goblin song, which in\nits native Welsh is almost as impressive as 'Fi Fo Fum.' Let it\nsuffice that the song is an invitation to the little ones among the\ndead of earth to come with music and dancing to the delights of the\nnight revel.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[48] 'Tempest,' Act III., Sc. 2.\n\n\nIV.\n\nIn the legend of Iolo ap Hugh, than which no story is more widely\nknown in Wales, the fairy origin of that famous tune 'Ffarwel Ned\nPugh' is shown. It is a legend which suggests the Enchanted Flute\nfancy in another form, the instrument here being a fiddle, and the\nvictim and player one under fairy control. In its introduction of\nbread and cheese and candles it smacks heartily of the soil. In North\nWales there is a famous cave which is said to reach from its entrance\non the hillside 'under the Morda, the Ceiriog, and a thousand other\nstreams, under many a league of mountain, marsh and moor, under the\nalmost unfathomable wells that, though now choked up, once supplied\nSycharth, the fortress of Glyndwrdwy, all the way to Chirk Castle.'\nTradition said that whoever went within five paces of its mouth would\nbe drawn into it and lost. That the peasants dwelling near it had a\nthorough respect for this tradition, was proved by the fact that all\naround the dangerous hole 'the grass grew as thick and as rank as in\nthe wilds of America or some unapproached ledge of the Alps.' Both men\nand animals feared the spot: 'A fox, with a pack of hounds in full cry\nat his tail,' once turned short round on approaching it, 'with his\nhair all bristled and fretted like frostwork with terror,' and ran\ninto the middle of the pack, 'as if anything earthly--even an earthly\ndeath--was a relief to his supernatural perturbations.' And the dogs\nin pursuit of this fox all declined to seize him, on account of the\nphosphoric smell and gleam of his coat. Moreover, 'Elias ap Evan, who\nhappened one fair night to stagger just upon the rim of the forbidden\nspace,' was so frightened at what he saw and heard that he arrived at\nhome perfectly sober, 'the only interval of sobriety, morning, noon,\nor night, Elias had been afflicted with for upwards of twenty years.'\nNor ever after that experience--concerning which he was wont to shake\nhis head solemnly, as if he might tell wondrous tales an' he\ndared--could Elias get tipsy, drink he never so faithfully to that\nend. As he himself expressed it, 'His shadow walked steadily before\nhim, that at one time wheeled around him like a pointer over bog and\nstone.' One misty Hallow E'en, Iolo ap Hugh, the fiddler, determined\nto solve the mysteries of the Ogof, or Cave, provided himself with 'an\nimmense quantity of bread and cheese and seven pounds of candles,' and\nventured in. He never returned; but long, long afterwards, at the\ntwilight of another Hallow E'en, an old shepherd was passing that--as\nhe called it--'Land-Maelstrom of Diaboly,' when he heard a faint burst\nof melody dancing up and down the rocks above the cave. As he\nlistened, the music gradually 'moulded itself in something like a\ntune, though it was a tune the shepherd had never heard before.' And\nit sounded as if it were being played by some jolting fiend, so rugged\nwas its rhythm, so repeated its discordant groans. Now there appeared\nat the mouth of the Ogof a figure well-known to the shepherd by\nremembrance. It was dimly visible; but it was Iolo ap Hugh, one could\nsee that at once. He was capering madly to the music of his own\nfiddle, with a lantern dangling at his breast. 'Suddenly the moon\nshone full on the cave's yellow mouth, and the shepherd saw poor Iolo\nfor a single moment--but it was distinctly and horribly. His face was\npale as marble, and his eyes stared fixedly and deathfully, whilst his\nhead dangled loose and unjointed on his shoulders. His arms seemed to\nkeep his fiddlestick in motion without the least sympathy from their\nmaster. The shepherd saw him a moment on the verge of the cave, and\nthen, still capering and fiddling, vanish like a shadow from his\nsight;' but the old man was heard to say he seemed as if he slipped\ninto the cave in a manner quite different from the step of a living\nand a willing man; 'he was dragged inwards like the smoke up the\nchimney, or the mist at sunrise.' Years elapsed; 'all hopes and\nsorrows connected with poor Iolo had not only passed away, but were\nnearly forgotten; the old shepherd had long lived in a parish at a\nconsiderable distance amongst the hills. One cold December Sunday\nevening he and his fellow-parishioners were shivering in their seats\nas the clerk was beginning to light the church, when a strange burst\nof music, starting suddenly from beneath the aisle, threw the whole\ncongregation into confusion, and then it passed faintly along to the\nfarther end of the church, and died gradually away till at last it was\nimpossible to distinguish it from the wind that was careering and\nwailing through almost every pillar of the old church.' The shepherd\nimmediately recognised this to be the tune Iolo had played at the\nmouth of the Ogof. The parson of the parish--a connoisseur in\nmusic--took it down from the old man's whistling; and to this day, if\nyou go to the cave on Hallow eve and put your ear to the aperture, you\nmay hear the tune 'Ffarwel Ned Pugh' as distinctly as you may hear the\nwaves roar in a sea-shell. 'And it is said that in certain nights in\nleap-year a star stands opposite the farther end of the cave, and\nenables you to view all through it and to see Iolo and its other\ninmates.'[49]\n\n  [Music: FFARWEL NED PUGH.]\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[49] 'Camb. Quarterly,' i., 45.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII.\n\n    Fairy Rings--The Prophet Jones and his Works--The Mysterious\n    Language of the Tylwyth Teg--The Horse in Welsh\n    Folk-Lore--Equestrian Fairies--Fairy Cattle, Sheep, Swine,\n    etc.--The Flying Fairies of Bedwellty--The Fairy Sheepfold\n    at Cae'r Cefn.\n\n\nI.\n\nThe circles in the grass of green fields, which are commonly called\nfairy rings, are numerous in Wales, and it is deemed just as well to\nkeep out of them, even in our day. The peasantry no longer believe\nthat the fairies can be seen dancing there, nor that the cap of\ninvisibility will fall on the head of one who enters the circle; but\nthey do believe that the fairies, in a time not long gone, made these\ncircles with the tread of their tripping feet, and that some\nmisfortune will probably befall any person intruding upon this\nforbidden ground. An old man at Peterstone-super-Ely told me he well\nremembered in his childhood being warned by his mother to keep away\nfrom the fairy rings. The counsel thus given him made so deep an\nimpression on his mind, that he had never in his life entered one. He\nremarked further, in answer to a question, that he had never walked\nunder a ladder, because it was unlucky to walk under a ladder. This\nclass of superstitions is a very large one, and is encountered the\nworld over; and the fairy rings seem to fall into this class, so far\nas present-day belief in Wales is concerned.\n\n\nII.\n\nAllusion has been made in the preceding pages to the Prophet Jones,\nand as some account of this personage is imperatively called for in a\nwork treating of Welsh folk-lore, I will give it here, before citing\nhis remarks respecting fairy circles. Edmund Jones, 'of the Tranch,'\nwas a dissenting minister, noted in Monmouthshire in the first years\nof the present century for his fervent piety and his large credulity\nwith regard to fairies and all other goblins. He was for many years\npastor of the congregation of Protestant Dissenters at the Ebenezer\nChapel, near Pontypool, and lived at a place called 'The Tranch,' near\nthere. He wrote and published two books, one an 'Account of the Parish\nof Aberystruth,' printed at Trevecca; the other a 'Relation of\nApparitions of Spirits in the County of Monmouth and the Principality\nof Wales,' printed at Newport; and they have been referred to by most\nwriters on folk-lore who have attempted any account of Welsh\nsuperstitions during the past half-century; but the books are\nextremely rare, and writers who have quoted from them have generally\nbeen content to do so at second-hand. Keightley,[50] quoting from the\n'Apparitions,' misprints the author's name 'Edward Jones of the\nTiarch,' and accredits the publication to 'the latter half of the\neighteenth century,' whereas it was published in 1813. Keightley's\nquotations are taken from Croker, who himself had never seen the book,\nbut heard of it through a Welsh friend. It is not in the library of\nthe British Museum, and I know of but a few copies in Wales; the one I\nsaw is at Swansea. The author of these curious volumes was called the\nProphet Jones, because of his gift of prophecy--so a Welshman in\nMonmouthshire told me. In my informant's words, 'He was noted in his\ndistrict for foretelling things. He would, for instance, be asked to\npreach at some anniversary, or quarterly meeting, and he would answer,\n\"I cannot, on that day; the rain will descend in torrents, and there\nwill be no congregation.\" He would give the last mite he possessed to\nthe needy, and tell his wife, \"God will send a messenger with food and\nraiment at nine o'clock to-morrow.\" And so it would be.' He was a\nthorough-going believer in Welsh fairies, and full of indignant scorn\ntoward all who dared question their reality. To him these phantoms\nwere part and parcel of the Christian faith, and those who disbelieved\nin them were denounced as Sadducees and infidels.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[50] 'Fairy Mythology,' 412.\n\n\nIII.\n\nWith regard to the fairy rings, Jones held that the Bible alludes to\nthem, Matt. xii. 43: 'The fairies dance in circles in dry places; and\nthe Scripture saith that the walk of evil spirits is in dry places.'\nThey favour the oak-tree, and the female oak especially, partly\nbecause of its more wide-spreading branches and deeper shade, partly\nbecause of the 'superstitious use made of it beyond other trees' in\nthe days of the Druids. Formerly, it was dangerous to cut down a\nfemale oak in a fair dry place. 'Some were said to lose their lives by\nit, by a strange aching pain which admitted of no remedy, as one of my\nancestors did; but now that men have more knowledge and faith, this\neffect follows not.' William Jenkins was for a long time the\nschoolmaster at Trefethin church, in Monmouthshire, and coming home\nlate in the evening, as he usually did, he often saw the fairies under\nan oak within two or three fields from the church. He saw them more\noften on Friday evenings than any other. At one time he went to\nexamine the ground about this oak, and there he found the reddish\ncircle wherein the fairies danced, 'such as have often been seen under\nthe female oak, called Brenhin-bren.' They appeared more often to an\nuneven number of persons, as one, three, five, &c.; and oftener to men\nthan to women. Thomas William Edmund, of Hafodafel, 'an honest pious\nman, who often saw them,' declared that they appeared with one bigger\nthan the rest going before them in the company. They were also heard\ntalking together in a noisy, jabbering way; but no one could\ndistinguish the words. They seemed, however, to be a very disputatious\nrace; insomuch, indeed, that there was a proverb in some parts of\nWales to this effect: 'Ni chytunant hwy mwy na Bendith eu Mamau,'\n(They will no more agree than the fairies).\n\n\nIV.\n\nThis observation respecting the mysterious language used by fairies\nrecalls again the medieval story of Elidurus. The example of fairy\nwords there given by Giraldus is thought by the learned rector of\nLlanarmon[51] to be 'a mixture of Irish and Welsh. The letter U, with\nwhich each of the words begins, is, probably, no more than the\nrepresentative of an indistinct sound like the E mute of the French,\nand which those whose language and manners are vulgar often prefix to\nwords indifferently. If, then, they be read dor dorum, and halgein\ndorum, dor and halgein are nearly dwr (or, as it is pronounced, door)\nand halen, the Welsh words for water and salt respectively. Dorum\ntherefore is equivalent to \"give me,\" and the Irish expression for\n\"give me\" is thorum; the Welsh dyro i mi. The order of the words,\nhowever, is reversed. The order should be thorum dor, and thorum halen\nin Irish, and in Welsh dyro i mi ddwr, and dyro i mi halen, but was,\nperhaps, reversed intentionally by the narrator, to make his tale the\nmore marvellous.'[52]\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[51] Rev. Peter Roberts, 'Cambrian Popular Antiquities,' 195. (1815.)\n\n[52] Supra, p. 67.\n\n\nV.\n\nThe horse plays a very active part in Welsh fairy tales. Not only does\nhis skeleton serve for Mary Lwyds[53] and the like, but his spirit\nflits. The Welsh fairies seem very fond of going horseback. An old\nwoman in the Vale of Neath told Mrs. Williams, who told Thomas\nKeightley, that she had seen fairies to the number of hundreds,\nmounted on little white horses, not bigger than dogs, and riding four\nabreast. This was about dusk, and the fairy equestrians passed quite\nclose to her, in fact less than a quarter of a mile away. Another old\nwoman asserted that her father had often seen the fairies riding in\nthe air on little white horses; but he never saw them come to the\nground. He heard their music sounding in the air as they galloped by.\nThere is a tradition among the Glamorgan peasantry of a fairy battle\nfought on the mountain between Merthyr and Aberdare, in which the\npigmy combatants were on horseback. There appeared to be two armies,\none of which was mounted on milk-white steeds, and the other on horses\nof jet-black. They rode at each other with the utmost fury, and their\nswords could be seen flashing in the air like so many penknife blades.\nThe army on the white horses won the day, and drove the black-mounted\nforce from the field. The whole scene then disappeared in a light\nmist.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[53] See Index.\n\n\nVI.\n\nIn the agricultural districts of Wales, the fairies are accredited\nwith a very complete variety of useful animals; and Welsh folk-lore,\nboth modern and medieval, abounds with tales regarding cattle, sheep,\nhorses, poultry, goats, and other features of rural life. Such are the\nmarvellous mare of Teirnyon, which foaled every first of May, but\nwhose colt was always spirited away, no man knew whither; the Ychain\nBanog, or mighty oxen, which drew the water-monster out of the\nenchanted lake, and by their lowing split the rocks in twain; the\nlambs of St. Melangell, which at first were hares, and ran frightened\nunder the fair saint's robes; the fairy cattle which belong to the\nGwraig Annwn; the fairy sheep of Cefn Rhychdir, which rose up out of\nthe earth and vanished into the sky; even fairy swine, which the\nhaymakers of Bedwellty beheld flying through the air. To some of these\ntraditions reference has already been made; others will be mentioned\nagain. Welsh mountain sheep will run like stags, and bound from crag\nto crag like wild goats; and as for Welsh swine, they are more famed\nin Cambrian romantic story than almost any other animal that could be\nnamed. Therefore the tale told by Rev. Roger Rogers, of the parish of\nBedwellty, sounds much less absurd in Wales than it might elsewhere.\nIt relates to a very remarkable and odd sight, seen by Lewis Thomas\nJenkin's two daughters, described as virtuous and good young women,\ntheir father a substantial freeholder; and seen not only by them but\nby the man-servant and the maid-servant, and by two of the neighbours,\nviz., Elizabeth David, and Edmund Roger. All these six people were on\na certain day making hay in a field called Y Weirglodd Fawr Dafolog,\nwhen they plainly beheld a company of fairies rise up out of the earth\nin the shape of a flock of sheep; the same being about a quarter of a\nmile distant, over a hill, called Cefn Rhychdir; and soon the fairy\nflock went out of sight, as if they vanished in the air. Later in the\nday they all saw this company of fairies again, but while to two of\nthe haymakers the fairies appeared as sheep, to others they appeared\nas greyhounds, and to others as swine, and to others as naked infants.\nWhereupon the Rev. Roger remarks: 'The sons of infidelity are very\nunreasonable not to believe the testimonies of so many witnesses.'[54]\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[54] Jones, 'Apparitions,' 24.\n\n\nVII.\n\nThe Welsh sheep, it is affirmed, are the only beasts which will eat\nthe grass that grows in the fairy rings; all other creatures avoid it,\nbut the sheep eat it greedily--hence the superiority of Welsh mutton\nover any mutton in the wide world. The Prophet Jones tells of the\nsheepfold of the fairies, which he himself saw--a circumstance to be\naccorded due weight, the judicious reader will at once perceive,\nbecause as a habit Mr. Jones was not specially given to seeing goblins\non his own account. He believes in them with all his heart, but it is\nusually a friend or acquaintance who has seen them. In this instance,\ntherefore, the exception is to be noted sharply. He thus tells the\ntale: 'If any think I am too credulous in these relations, and speak\nof things of which I myself have had no experience, I must let them\nknow they are mistaken. For when a very young boy, going with my aunt,\nearly in the morning, but after sun-rising, from Hafodafel towards my\nfather's house at Pen-y-Llwyn, at the end of the upper field of Cae'r\nCefn, ... I saw the likeness of a sheepfold, with the door towards the\nsouth, ... and within the fold a company of many people. Some sitting\ndown, and some going in, and coming out, bowing their heads as they\npassed under the branch over the door.... I well remember the\nresemblance among them of a fair woman with a high-crown hat and a red\njacket, who made a better appearance than the rest, and whom I think\nthey seemed to honour. I still have a pretty clear idea of her white\nface and well-formed countenance. The men wore white cravats.... I\nwondered at my aunt, going before me, that she did not look towards\nthem, and we going so near them. As for me, I was loth to speak until\nI passed them some way, and then told my aunt what I had seen, at\nwhich she wondered, and said I dreamed.... There was no fold in that\nplace. There is indeed the ruins of some small edifice in that place,\nmost likely a fold, but so old that the stones are swallowed up, and\nalmost wholly crusted over with earth and grass.'\n\nThis tale has long been deemed a poser by the believers in Cambrian\nphantoms; but there is something to be said on the side of doubt.\nConceding that the Reverend Edmund Jones, the dissenting minister, was\nan honest gentleman who meant to tell truth, it is still possible that\nMaster Neddy Jones, the lad, could draw a long bow like another boy;\nand that having seen, possibly, some gypsy group (or possibly nothing\nwhatever) he embellished his tale to excite wonderment, as boys do.\nTelling a fictitious tale so often that one at last comes to believe\nit oneself, is a well-known mental phenomenon.\n\n\nVIII.\n\nThe only other instance given by the Prophet Jones as from the depths\nof his own personal experience, is more vague in its particulars than\nthe preceding, and happened when he had presumably grown to years of\ndiscretion. He was led astray, it appears, by the Old Woman of the\nMountain, on Llanhiddel Bryn, near Pontypool--an eminence with which\nhe was perfectly well acquainted, and which 'is no more than a mile\nand a half long and about half a mile broad.' But as a result of his\ngoing astray, he came to a house where he had never been before; and\nbeing deeply moved by his uncanny experience, 'offered to go to\nprayer, which they admitted.... I was then about twenty-three years of\nage and had begun to preach the everlasting gospel. They seemed to\nadmire that a person so young should be so warmly disposed; few young\nmen of my age being religious in this country then. Much good came\ninto this house and still continues in it.... So the old hag got\nnothing by leading me astray that time.'\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX.\n\n    Piety as a Protection from the Seductions of the Tylwyth\n    Teg--Various Exorcisms--Cock-crowing--The Name of\n    God--Fencing off the Fairies--Old Betty Griffith and her\n    Eithin Barricade--Means of Getting Rid of the Tylwyth\n    Teg--The Bwbach of the Hendrefawr Farm--The Pwca'r Trwyn's\n    Flitting in a Jug of Barm.\n\n\nI.\n\nThe extreme piety of his daily walk and conversation may have been\nheld as an explanation why the Prophet Jones saw so few goblins\nhimself, and consequently why most of his stories of the fairies are\nrelated as coming from other people. The value of a general habit of\npiety, as a means of being rid of fairies, has already been mentioned.\nThe more worldly exorcisms, such as the production of a black-handled\nknife, or the turning one's coat wrongside out, are passed over by the\nProphet as trivial; but by the student of comparative folk-lore, they\nare not deemed unimportant. The last-mentioned exorcism, by the way,\nis current among the Southern negroes of the United States. The more\nspiritual exorcisms are not less interesting than the others, however.\nFirst among these is ranked the pronunciation of God's name; but the\ncrowing of a cock is respectfully mentioned, in connection with the\nstory of our Saviour. Jones gives many accounts which terminate in the\nmanner of the following: Rees John Rosser, born at Hendy, in the\nparish of Llanhiddel, 'a very religious young man,' went one morning\nvery early to feed the oxen in a barn called Ysgubor y Llan, and\nhaving fed them lay himself upon the hay to rest. While he lay there\nhe heard the sound of music approaching, and presently a large company\nof fairies came into the barn. They wore striped clothes, some in\ngayer colours than the others, but all very gay; and they all danced\nto the music. He lay there as quiet as he could, thinking they would\nnot see him, but he was espied by one of them, a woman, who brought a\nstriped cushion with four tassels, one at each corner of it, and put\nit under his head. After some time the cock crew at the house of Blaen\ny Cwm, hard by, upon which they appeared as if they were surprised and\ndispleased; the cushion was hastily whisked from under his head, and\nthe fairies vanished. 'The spirits of darkness do not like the crowing\nof the cock, because it gives notice of the approach of day, for they\nlove darkness rather than light.... And it hath been several times\nobserved that these fairies cannot endure to hear the name of God.' A\nmodern Welsh preacher (but one whose opinions contrast most decidedly\nwith those of Jones) observes: 'The cock is wonderfully well versed in\nthe circumstances of the children of Adam; his shrill voice at dawn of\nday is sufficient intimation to every spirit, coblyn, wraith, elf,\nbwci, and apparition to flee into their illusive country for their\nlives, before the light of day will show them to be an empty\nnothingness, and bring them to shame and reproach.'[55] Shakspeare\nintroduces this superstition in Hamlet:\n\n    _Ber._ It was about to speak, when the cock crew.\n\n    _Hor._ And then it started like a guilty thing\n           Upon a fearful summons.[56]\n\nBut the opinion that spirits fly away at cock-crow is of extreme\nantiquity. It is mentioned by the Christian poet Prudentius (fourth\ncentury) as a tradition of common belief.[57] As for the effect of the\nname of God as an exorcism, we still encounter this superstition, a\nliving thing in our own day, and in every land where modern\n'spiritualism' finds believers. The mischief produced at 'spiritual\nseances' by 'bad spirits' is well-known to those who have paid any\nattention to this subject. The late Mr. FitzHugh Ludlow once related\nto me, with dramatic fervour, the result of his attempts to exorcise a\nbad spirit which was in possession of a female 'medium,' by trying to\nmake her pronounce the name of Christ. She stumbled and stammered over\nthis test in a most embarrassing way, and finally emerged from her\ntrance with the holy name unspoken; the bad spirit had fled. This was\nin New York, in 1867. Like many others who assert their unbelief in\nspiritualism, Mr. Ludlow was intensely impressed by this phenomenon.\n\nStudents of comparative folk-lore class all such manifestations under\na common head, whether related of fairies or spirit mediums. They\ntrace their origin to the same source whence come the notions of\npropitiating the fairies by euphemistic names. The use of such names\nas Jehovah, the Almighty, the Supreme Being, etc., for the terrible\nand avenging God of the Jewish theology, being originally an endeavour\nto avoid pronouncing the name of God, it is easy to see the connection\nwith the exorcising power of that name upon all evil spirits, such as\nfairies are usually held to be. Here also, it is thought, is presented\nthe ultimate source of that horror of profane language which prevails\namong the Puritanic peoples of England and America. The name of the\ndevil is similarly provided with euphemisms, some of which--such as\nthe Old Boy--are not of a sort to offend that personage's ears; and\nuntil recently the word devil was deemed almost as offensive as the\nword God, when profanely used.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[55] Rev. Robert Ellis, in 'Manion Hynafiaethol.' (Treherbert, 1873.)\n\n[56] 'Hamlet,' Act I., Sc. 1.\n\n[57] Brand, 'Popular Antiquities,' ii., 31.\n\n\nII.\n\nA popular protection from the encroachments of fairies is the eithin,\nor prickly furze, common in Wales. It is believed that the fairies\ncannot penetrate a fence or hedge composed of this thorny shrub. An\naccount illustrating this, and otherwise curious in its details, was\ngiven in 1871 by a prominent resident of Anglesea:[58] 'One day, some\nthirty years ago, Mrs. Stanley went to one of the old houses to see an\nold woman she often visited. It was a wretched hovel; so unusually\ndark when she opened the door, that she called to old Betty Griffith,\nbut getting no answer she entered the room. A little tiny window of\none pane of glass at the further side of the room gave a feeble light.\nA few cinders alight in the miserable grate also gave a glimmer of\nlight, which enabled her to see where the bed used to be, in a recess.\nTo her surprise she saw it entirely shut out by a barricade of thick\ngorse, so closely packed and piled up that no bed was to be seen.\nAgain she called Betty Griffith; no response came. She looked round\nthe wretched room; the only symptom of life was a plant of the\nWandering Jew (_Saxifraga tricolor_), so called by the poor people,\nand dearly loved to grace their windows. It was planted in a broken\njar or teapot on the window, trailing its long tendrils around, with\nhere and there a new formed plant seeming to derive sustenance from\nthe air alone. As she stood, struck with the miserable poverty of the\nhuman abode, a faint sigh came from behind the gorse. She went close\nand said, \"Betty, where are you?\" Betty instantly recognised her\nvoice, and ventured to turn herself round from the wall. Mrs. Stanley\nthen made a small opening in the gorse barricade, which sadly pricked\nher fingers; she saw Betty in her bed and asked her, \"Are you not\nwell? are you cold, that you are so closed up?\" \"Cold! no. It is not\ncold, Mrs. Stanley; it is the Tylwyth Teg; they never will leave me\nalone, there they sit making faces at me, and trying to come to me.\"\n\"Indeed! oh how I should like to see them, Betty.\" \"Like to see them,\nis it? Oh, don't say so.\" \"Oh but Betty, they must be so pretty and\ngood.\" \"Good? they are not good.\" By this time the old woman got\nexcited, and Mrs. Stanley knew she should hear more from her about the\nfairies, so she said, \"Well, I will go out; they never will come if I\nam here.\" Old Betty replied sharply, \"No, do not go. You must not\nleave me. I will tell you all about them. Ah! they come and plague me\nsadly. If I am up they will sit upon the table; they turn my milk sour\nand spill my tea; then they will not leave me at peace in my bed, but\ncome all round me and mock at me.\" \"But Betty, tell me what is all\nthis gorse for? It must have been great trouble for you to make it all\nso close.\" \"Is it not to keep them off? They cannot get through this,\nit pricks them so bad, and then I get some rest.\" So she replaced the\ngorse and left old Betty Griffith happy in her device for getting rid\nof the Tylwyth Teg.'\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[58] Hon. W. O. Stanley, in 'Notes and Queries.'\n\n\nIII.\n\nA common means of getting rid of the fairies is to change one's place\nof residence; the fair folk will not abide in a house which passes\ninto new hands. A story is told of a Merionethshire farmer who, being\ntormented beyond endurance by a Bwbach of a mischievous turn,\nreluctantly resolved to flit. But first consulting a wise woman at\nDolgelley, he was advised to make a pretended flitting, which would\nhave the same effect; he need only give out that he was going to move\nover the border into England, and then get together his cattle and his\nhousehold goods, and set out for a day's drive around the Arenig. The\nfairy would surely quit the house when the farmer should quit it, and\nespecially would it quit the premises of a born Cymro who avowed his\npurpose of settling in the foreign land of the Sais. So then he could\ncome back to his house by another route, and he would find the\nobnoxious Bwbach gone. The farmer did as he was told, and set out upon\nhis journey, driving his cattle and sheep before him, and leading the\ncart upon which his furniture was piled, while his wife and children\ntrudged behind. When he reached Rhyd-y-Fen, a ford so called from this\nlegend, they met a neighbour, who exclaimed, 'Holo, Dewi, are you\nleaving us for good?' Before the farmer could answer there was a\nshrill cry from inside the churn on the cart, 'Yes, yes, we are\nflitting from Hendrefawr to Eingl-dud, where we've got a new home.' It\nwas the Bwbach that spoke. He was flitting with the household goods,\nand the farmer's little plan to be rid of him was a complete failure.\nThe good man sighed as he turned his horses about and went back to\nHendrefawr by the same road he had come.\n\n\nIV.\n\nThe famous Pwca of the Trwyn Farm, in Mynyddyslwyn parish, came there\nfrom his first abode, at Pantygasseg, in a jug of barm. One of the\nfarm-servants brought the jug to Pantygasseg, and as she was being\nserved with the barm in the jug, the Pwca was heard to say, 'The Pwca\nis going away now in this jug of barm, and he'll never come back;' and\nhe was never heard at Pantygasseg again. Another story tells that a\nservant let fall a ball of yarn, over the ledge of the hill whose base\nis washed by the two fishponds between Hafod-yr-Ynys and Pontypool,\nand the Pwca said, 'I am going in this ball, and I'll go to the Trwyn,\nand never come back,'--and directly the ball was seen to roll down the\nhillside, and across the valley, ascending the hill on the other side,\nand trundling along briskly across the mountain top to its new abode.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X.\n\n    Fairy Money and Fairy Gifts in General--The Story of Gitto\n    Bach, or Little Griffith--The Penalty of Blabbing--Legends\n    of the Shepherds of Cwm Llan--The Money Value of\n    Kindness--Ianto Llewellyn and the Tylwyth Teg--The Legend of\n    Hafod Lwyddog--Lessons inculcated by these Superstitions.\n\n\nI.\n\n'This is fairy gold, boy, and 'twill prove so,' says the old shepherd\nin 'Winter's Tale;' sagely adding, 'Up with it, keep it close; home,\nhome, the next way. We are lucky, boy, and to be so still, requires\nnothing but secrecy.'[59] Here we have the traditional belief of the\nWelsh peasantry in a nut-shell. Fairy money is as good as any, so long\nas its source is kept a profound secret; if the finder relate the\nparticulars of his good fortune, it will vanish. Sometimes--especially\nin cases where the money has been spent--the evil result of tattling\nconsists in there being no further favours of the sort. The same law\ngoverns fairy gifts of all kinds. A Breconshire legend tells of the\ngenerosity of the Tylwyth Teg in presenting the peasantry with loaves\nof bread, which turned to toadstools next morning; it was necessary to\neat the bread in darkness and silence to avoid this transformation.\nThe story of Gitto Bach, a familiar one in Wales, is a picturesque\nexample. Gitto Bach (little Griffith), a good little farmer's boy of\nGlamorganshire, used often to ramble to the top of the mountain to\nlook after his father's sheep. On his return he would show his\nbrothers and sisters pieces of remarkably white paper, like crown\npieces, with letters stamped upon them, which he said were given to\nhim by the little children with whom he played on the mountain. One\nday he did not return. For two years nothing was heard of him.\nMeantime other children occasionally got like crown-pieces of paper\nfrom the mountains. One morning when Gitto's mother opened the door\nthere he sat--the truant!--dressed exactly as he was when she saw him\nlast, two years before. He had a little bundle under his arm. 'Where\nin the world have you been all this time?' asked the mother, 'Why,\nit's only yesterday I went away!' quoth Gitto. 'Look at the pretty\nclothes the children gave me on the mountain, for dancing with them to\nthe music of their harps.' With this he opened his bundle, and showed\na handsome dress; and behold, it was only paper, like the fairy money.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[59] 'Winter's Tale,' Act III., Sc. 3.\n\n\nII.\n\nBut usually, throughout Wales, it is simply a discontinuance of fairy\nfavour which follows blabbing. A legend is connected with a bridge in\nAnglesea, of a lad who often saw the fairies there, and profited by\ntheir generosity. Every morning, while going to fetch his father's\ncows from pasture, he saw them, and after they were gone he always\nfound a groat on a certain stone of Cymmunod Bridge. The boy's having\nmoney so often about him excited his father's suspicion, and one\nSabbath day he cross-questioned the lad as to the manner in which it\nwas obtained. Oh, the meddlesomeness of fathers! Of course the poor\nboy confessed that it was through the medium of the fairies, and of\ncourse, though he often went after this to the field, he never found\nany money on the bridge, nor saw the offended Tylwyth Teg again.\nThrough his divulging the secret their favour was lost.\n\nJones tells a similar story of a young woman named Anne William\nFrancis, in the parish of Bassalleg, who on going by night into a\nlittle grove of wood near the house, heard pleasant music, and saw a\ncompany of fairies dancing on the grass. She took a pail of water\nthere, thinking it would gratify them. The next time she went there\nshe had a shilling given her, 'and so had for several nights after,\nuntil she had twenty-one shillings.' But her mother happening to find\nthe money, questioned her as to where she got it, fearing she had\nstolen it. At first the girl would not tell, but when her mother 'went\nvery severe on her,' and threatened to beat her, she confessed she got\nthe money from the fairies. After that they never gave her any more.\nThe Prophet adds: 'I have heard of other places where people have had\nmoney from the fairies, sometimes silver sixpences, but most commonly\ncopper coin. As they cannot make money, it certainly must be money\nlost or concealed by persons.' The Euhemerism of this is hardly like\nthe wonder-loving Jones.\n\n\nIII.\n\nIn the legends of the two shepherds of Cwm Llan and their experience\nwith the fairies, the first deals with the secrecy feature, while the\nsecond reproduces the often-impressed lesson concerning the money\nvalue of kindness. The first is as follows: One evening a shepherd,\nwho had been searching for his sheep on the side of Nant y Bettws,\nafter crossing Bwlch Cwm Llan, espied a number of little people\nsinging and dancing, and some of the prettiest damsels he ever set\neyes on preparing a feast. He went to them and partook of the meal,\nand thought he had never tasted anything to equal those dishes. When\nit became dusk they pitched their tents, and the shepherd had never\nseen before such beautiful things as they had about them there. They\nprovided him with a soft feather-bed and sheets of the finest linen,\nand he retired, feeling like a prince. But on the morrow, lo and\nbehold! his bed was but a bush of bulrushes, and his pillow a tuft of\nmoss. He however found in his shoes some pieces of silver, and\nafterwards, for a long time, he continued to find once a week a piece\nof silver placed between two stones near the spot where he had lain.\nOne day he divulged his secret to another, and the weekly coin was\nnever placed there again.\n\nThere was another shepherd near Cwm Llan, who heard some strange noise\nin a crevice of a rock, and turning to see what it was, found there a\nsingular creature who wept bitterly. He took it out and saw it to be a\nfairy child, but whilst he was looking at it compassionately, two\nmiddle-aged men came to him and thanked him courteously for his\nkindness, and on leaving him presented him with a staff as a token of\nremembrance of the occasion. The following year every sheep he\npossessed bore two ewe lambs. They continued to thus breed for years\nto come; but one very dark and stormy night, having stayed very late\nin the village, in crossing the river that comes down from Cwm Llan,\nthere being a great flood sweeping everything before it, he dropped\nhis staff into the river and saw it no more. On the morrow he found\nthat nearly all his sheep and lambs, like his staff, had been swept\naway by the flood. His wealth had departed from him in the same way as\nit came--with the staff which he had received from the guardians of\nthe fairy child.\n\n\nIV.\n\nA Pembrokeshire Welshman told me this story as a tradition well known\nin that part of Wales. Ianto Llewellyn was a man who lived in the\nparish of Llanfihangel, not more than fifty or eighty years ago, and\nwho had precious good reason to believe in the fairies. He used to\nkeep his fire of coal balls burning all night long, out of pure\nkindness of heart, in case the Tylwyth Teg should be cold. That they\ncame into his kitchen every night he was well aware; he often heard\nthem. One night when they were there as usual, Ianto was lying wide\nawake and heard them say, 'I wish we had some good bread and cheese\nthis cold night, but the poor man has only a morsel left; and though\nit's true that would be a good meal for us, it is but a mouthful to\nhim, and he might starve if we took it.' At this Ianto cried out at\nthe top of his voice, 'Take anything I've got in my cupboard and\nwelcome to you!' Then he turned over and went to sleep. The next\nmorning, when he descended into the kitchen, he looked in his\ncupboard, to see if by good luck there might be a bit of crust there.\nHe had no sooner opened the cupboard door than he cried out, 'O'r\nanwyl! what's this?' for there stood the finest cheese he had ever\nseen in his life, with two loaves of bread on top of it. 'Lwc dda i\nti!' cried Ianto, waving his hand toward the wood where he knew the\nfairies lived; 'good luck to you! May you never be hungry or\npenniless!' And he had not got the words out of his mouth when he\nsaw--what do you think?--a shilling on the hob! But that was the lucky\nshilling. Every morning after this, when Ianto got up, there was the\nshilling on the hob--another one, you mind, for he'd spent the first\nfor beer and tobacco to go with his bread and cheese. Well, after\nthat, no man in the parish was better supplied with money than Ianto\nLlewellyn, though he never did a stroke of work. He had enough to keep\nhis wife in ease and comfort, too, and he got the name of Lucky Ianto.\nAnd lucky he might have been to the day of his death but for the\ncuriosity of woman. Betsi his wife was determined to know where all\nthis money came from, and gave the poor man no peace. 'Wel, naw wfft!'\nshe cried--which means in English, 'Nine shames on you'--'to have a\nbad secret from your own dear wife!' 'But you know, Betsi, if I tell\nyou I'll never get any more money.' 'Ah,' said she, 'then it's the\nfairies!' 'Drato!' said he--and that means 'Bother it all'--'yes--the\nfairies it is.' With that he thrust his hands down in his breeches\npockets in a sullen manner and left the house. He had had seven\nshillings in his pockets up to that minute, and he went feeling for\nthem with his fingers, and found they were gone. In place of them were\nsome pieces of paper fit only to light his pipe. And from that day the\nfairies brought him no more money.\n\n\nV.\n\nThe lesson of generosity is taught with force and simplicity in the\nlegend of Hafod Lwyddog, and the necessity for secrecy is quite\nabandoned. Again it is a shepherd, who dwelt at Cwm Dyli, and who went\nevery summer to live in a cabin by the Green Lake (Llyn Glas) along\nwith his fold. One morning on awaking from sleep he saw a good-looking\ndamsel dressing an infant close by his side. She had very little in\nwhich to wrap the babe, so he threw her an old shirt of his own, and\nbade her place it about the child. She thanked him and departed. Every\nnight thereafter the shepherd found a piece of silver placed in an\nold clog in his cabin. Years and years this good luck continued, and\nMeirig the shepherd became immensely wealthy. He married a lovely\ngirl, and went to the Hafod Lwyddog to live. Whatever he undertook\nprospered--hence the name Hafod Lwyddog, for Lwydd means prosperity.\nThe fairies paid nightly visits to the Hafod. No witch or evil sprite\ncould harm this people, as Bendith y Mamau was poured down upon the\nfamily, and all their descendants.[60]\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[60] 'Cymru Fu,' 472.\n\n\nVI.\n\nThe thought will naturally occur that by fostering belief in such\ntales as some of the foregoing, roguery might make the superstition\nuseful in silencing inquiry as to ill-gotten gains. But on the other\nhand the virtues of hospitality and generosity were no doubt fostered\nby the same influences. If any one was favoured by the fairies in this\nmanner, the immediate explanation was, that he had done a good turn to\nthem, generally without suspecting who they were. The virtues of\nneatness, in young girls and servants, were encouraged by the like\nnotions; the belief that a fairy will leave money only on a clean-kept\nhob, could tend to nothing more directly. It was also made a condition\nof pleasing the Tylwyth Teg that the hearth should be carefully swept\nand the pails left full of water. Then the fairies would come at\nmidnight, continue their revels till daybreak, sing the well-known\nstrain of 'Toriad y Dydd,' or 'The Dawn,' leave a piece of money on\nthe hob, and disappear. Here is seen a precaution against fire in the\nclean-swept hearth and the provision of filled water-pails. That the\npromised reward did not always arrive, was not evidence it would never\narrive; and so the virtue of perseverance was also fostered.\n\nSuperstitions of this class are widely prevalent among Aryan peoples.\nThe 'Arabian Nights' story of the old rogue whose money turned to\nleaves will be recalled. In Danish folk-lore, the fairy money bestowed\non the boors turns sometimes to pebbles, and sometimes grows hot and\nburns their fingers, so that they drop it, when it sinks into the\nearth.\n\n  [Music: TORIAD Y DYDD.]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI.\n\n    Origins of Welsh Fairies--The Realistic Theory--Legend of\n    the Baron's Gate--The Red Fairies--The Trwyn Fairy a\n    Proscribed Nobleman--The Theory of hiding Druids--Colour in\n    Welsh Fairy Attire--The Green Lady of Caerphilly--White the\n    favourite Welsh Hue--Legend of the Prolific Woman--The\n    Poetico-Religious Theory--The Creed of Science.\n\n\nI.\n\nConcerning the origin of the Tylwyth Teg, there are two popular\nexplanations, the one poetico-religious in its character, the other\npractical and realistic. Both are equally wide of the truth, the true\norigin of fairies being found in the primeval mythology; but as my\npurpose is to avoid enlarging in directions generally familiar to the\nstudent, I have only to present the local aspects of this, as of the\nother features of the subject.\n\nThe realistic theory of the origin of the Tylwyth Teg must be\nmentioned respectfully, because among its advocates have been men of\nculture and good sense. This theory presumes that the first fairies\nwere men and women of mortal flesh and blood, and that the later\nsuperstitions are a mere echo of tales which first were told of real\nbeings. In quasi-support of this theory, there is a well-authenticated\ntradition of a race of beings who, in the middle of the sixteenth\ncentury, inhabited the Wood of the Great Dark Wood (Coed y Dugoed\nMawr) in Merionethshire, and who were called the Red Fairies. They\nlived in dens in the ground, had fiery red hair and long strong arms,\nand stole sheep and cattle by night. There are cottages in Cemmaes\nparish, near the Wood of the Great Dark Wood, with scythes in the\nchimneys, which were put there to keep these terrible beings out. One\nChristmas eve a valiant knight named Baron Owen headed a company of\nwarriors who assailed the Red Fairies, and found them flesh and blood.\nThe Baron hung a hundred of them; but spared the women, one of whom\nbegged hard for the life of her son. The Baron refused her prayer,\nwhereupon she opened her breast and shrieked, 'This breast has nursed\nother sons than he, who will yet wash their hands in thy blood, Baron\nOwen!' Not very long thereafter, the Baron was waylaid at a certain\nspot by the sons of the 'fairy' woman, who washed their hands in his\nwarm and reeking blood, in fulfilment of their mother's threat. And to\nthis day that spot goes by the name of Llidiart y Barwn (the Baron's\nGate); any peasant of the neighbourhood will tell you the story, as\none told it to me. There is of course no better foundation for the\nfairy features of it than the fancies of the ignorant mind, but the\nlegend itself is--very nearly in this shape--historical. The beings in\nquestion were a band of outlaws, who might naturally find it to their\ninterest to foster belief in their supernatural powers.\n\n\nII.\n\nThe so-called Pwca'r Trwyn, which haunted the farm-house in the parish\nof Mynyddyslwyn, is sometimes cited as another case in which a fairy\nwas probably a being of flesh and blood; and if this be true, it of\ncourse proves nothing but the adoption of an ancient superstition by a\nproscribed Welsh nobleman. There is a tradition that this fairy had a\nname, and that this name was 'yr Arglwydd Hywel,' which is in English\n'Lord Howell.' And it is argued that this Lord, in a contest with the\nforces of the English king, was utterly worsted, and driven into\nhiding; that his tenants at Pantygasseg and the Trwyn Farm, loving\ntheir Lord, helped to hide him, and to disseminate the belief that he\nwas a household fairy, or Bwbach. It is related that he generally\nspoke from his own room in this farm-house, in a gentle voice which\n'came down between the boards' into the common room beneath. One day\nthe servants were comparing their hands, as to size and whiteness,\nwhen the fairy was heard to say, 'The Pwca's hand is the fairest and\nsmallest.' The servants asked if the fairy would show its hand, and\nimmediately a plank overhead was moved and a hand appeared, small,\nfair and beautifully formed, with a large gold ring on the little\nfinger.\n\n\nIII.\n\nCuriously interesting is the hypothesis concerning the realistic\norigin of the Tylwyth Teg, which was put forth at the close of the\nlast century by several writers, among them the Rev. Peter Roberts,\nauthor of the 'Collectanea Cambrica.' This hypothesis precisely\naccounts for the fairies anciently as being the Druids, in hiding from\ntheir enemies, or if not they, other persons who had such cause for\nliving concealed in subterraneous places, and venturing forth only at\nnight. 'Some conquered aborigines,' thought Dr. Guthrie; while Mr.\nRoberts fancied that as the Irish had frequently landed hostilely in\nWales, 'it was very possible that some small bodies of that nation\nleft behind, or unable to return, and fearing discovery, had hid\nthemselves in caverns during the day, and sent their children out at\nnight, fantastically dressed, for food and exercise, and thus secured\nthemselves.' But there were objections to this presumption, and the\nDruidical theory was the favourite one. Says Mr. Roberts: 'The fairy\ncustoms appeared evidently too systematic, and too general, to be\nthose of an accidental party reduced to distress. They are those of a\nconsistent and regular policy instituted to prevent discovery, and to\ninspire fear of their power, and a high opinion of their beneficence.\nAccordingly tradition notes, that to attempt to discover them was to\nincur certain destruction. \"They are fairies,\" says Falstaff: \"he that\nlooks on them shall die.\" They were not to be impeded in ingress or\negress; a bowl of milk was to be left for them at night on the hearth;\nand, in return, they left a small present in money when they departed,\nif the house was kept clean; if not, they inflicted some punishment on\nthe negligent, which, as it was death to look on them, they were\nobliged to suffer, and no doubt but many unlucky tricks were played on\nsuch occasions. Their general dress was green, that they might be the\nbetter concealed; and, as their children might have betrayed their\nhaunts, they seem to have been suffered to go out only in the night\ntime, and to have been entertained by dances on moonlight nights.\nThese dances, like those round the Maypole, have been said to be\nperformed round a tree; and on an elevated spot, mostly a tumulus,\nbeneath which was probably their habitation, or its entrance. The\nolder persons, probably, mixed as much as they dared with the world;\nand, if they happened to be at any time recognised, the certainty of\ntheir vengeance was their safety. If by any chance their society was\nthinned, they appear to have stolen children, and changed feeble for\nstrong infants. The stolen children, if beyond infancy, being brought\ninto their subterraneous dwellings, seem to have had a soporific given\nthem, and to have been carried to a distant part of the country; and,\nbeing there allowed to go out merely by night, mistook the night for\nthe day, and probably were not undeceived until it could be done\nsecurely. The regularity and generality of this system shows that\nthere was a body of people existing in the kingdom distinct from its\nknown inhabitants, and either confederated, or obliged to live or meet\nmysteriously; and their rites, particularly that of dancing round a\ntree, probably an oak, as Herne's, etc., as well as their character\nfor truth and probity, refer them to a Druidic origin. If this was the\ncase, it is easy to conceive, as indeed history shows, that, as the\nDruids were persecuted by the Romans and Christians, they used these\nmeans to preserve themselves and their families, and whilst the\ncountry was thinly peopled, and thickly wooded, did so successfully;\nand, perhaps, to a much later period than is imagined: till the\nincrease of population made it impossible. As the Druidical was one of\nthe most ancient religions, so it must have been one of the first\npersecuted, and forced to form a regular plan of security, which their\ndwelling in caves may have suggested, and necessity improved.'\n\n\nIV.\n\nIt will be observed that one of the points in this curious speculation\nrests on the green dress of the fairies. I do not call attention to it\nwith any Quixotic purpose of disputing the conclusion it assists; it\nis far more interesting as one feature of the general subject of\nfairies' attire. The Welsh fairies are described with details as to\ncolour in costume not commonly met with in fairy tales, a fact to\nwhich I have before alluded. In the legend of the Place of Strife,\nthe Tylwyth Teg encountered by the women are called 'the old elves of\nthe blue petticoat.' A connection with the blue of the sky has here\nbeen suggested. It has also been pointed out that the sacred Druidical\ndress was blue. The blue petticoat fancy seems to be local to North\nWales. In Cardiganshire, the tradition respecting an encampment called\nMoyddin, which the fairies frequented, is that they were always in\ngreen dresses, and were never seen there but in the vernal month of\nMay. There is a Glamorganshire goblin called the Green Lady of\nCaerphilly, the colour of whose dress is indicated by her title. She\nhaunts the ruin of Caerphilly Castle at night, wearing a green robe,\nand has the power of turning herself into ivy and mingling with the\nivy growing on the wall. A more ingenious mode of getting rid of a\ngoblin was perhaps never invented. The fairies of Frennifawr, in\nPembrokeshire, were on the contrary gorgeous in scarlet, with red\ncaps, and feathers waving in the wind as they danced. But others were\nin white, and this appears to be the favourite hue of modern Welsh\nfairy costume, when the Tylwyth Teg are in holiday garb. These various\ndetails of colour are due to the fervour of the Welsh fancy, of\ncourse, and perhaps their variety may in part be ascribed to a keener\nsense of the fitness of things among moderns than was current in\nearlier times. White, to the Welsh, would naturally be the favourite\ncolour for a beautiful creature, dancing in the moonlight on the\nvelvet sward. The most popular pet name for a Welsh lass is to-day\nexactly what it has been for centuries, viz., Gwenny, the diminutive\nof Gwenllian (Anglicised into Gwendoline)--a name which means simply\nwhite linen; and the white costume of the favourite fairies\nundoubtedly signifies a dress of white linen. This fabric, common as\nit is in our day, was in ancient times of inestimable value. In the\nMabinogion, linen is repeatedly particularised in the gorgeous\ndescriptions of fabled splendour in princely castles--linen, silk,\nsatin, velvet, gold-lace, and jewels, are the constantly-recurring\nfeatures of sumptuous attire. In his account of the royal tribes of\nWales, Yorke mentions that linen was so rare in the reign of Charles\nVII. of France (i.e., in the fifteenth century) 'that her majesty the\nqueen could boast of only two shifts of that commodity.' The first\ncause of the fairies' robes being white is evidently to be discerned\nhere; and in Wales the ancient sentiment as to whiteness remains. The\nWelsh peasantry, coarsely and darkly clad themselves, would make white\na purely holiday colour, and devise some other hue for such commoner\nfairies as the Bwbach and his sort:\n\n    The coarse and country fairy,\n    That doth haunt the hearth and dairy.[61]\n\nSo the Bwbach is usually brown, often hairy; and the Coblynau are\nblack or copper-coloured in face as well as dress.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[61] Jonson, Masque of 'Oberon.'\n\n\nV.\n\nA local legend of the origin of fairies in Anglesea mingles the\npractical and the spiritual in this manner: 'In our Saviour's time\nthere lived a woman whose fortune it was to be possessed of nearly a\nscore of children, ... and as she saw our blessed Lord approach her\ndwelling, being ashamed of being so prolific, and that He might not\nsee them all, she concealed about half of them closely, and after his\ndeparture, when she went in search of them, to her great surprise\nfound they were all gone. They never afterwards could be discovered,\nfor it was supposed that as a punishment from heaven for hiding what\nGod had given her, she was deprived of them; and it is said these her\noffspring have generated the race called fairies.'[62]\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[62] 'Camb. Sup.,' 118.\n\n\nVI.\n\nThe common or popular theory, however, is in Wales the\npoetico-religious one. This is, in a word, the belief that the Tylwyth\nTeg are the souls of dead mortals not bad enough for hell nor good\nenough for heaven. They are doomed to live on earth, to dwell in\nsecret places, until the resurrection day, when they will be admitted\ninto paradise. Meantime they must be either incessantly toiling or\nincessantly playing, but their toil is fruitless and their pleasure\nunsatisfying. A variation of this general belief holds these souls to\nbe the souls of the ancient Druids, a fancy which is specially\nimpressive, as indicating the duration of their penance, and reminds\nus of the Wandering Jew myth. It is confined mainly to the Coblynau,\nor dwellers in mines and caves. Another variation considers the\nfairies bad spirits of still remoter origin--the same in fact who were\nthrown over the battlements of heaven along with Satan, but did not\nfall into hell--landed on the earth instead, where they are permitted\nto tarry till doomsday as above. A detail of this theory is in\nexplanation of the rare appearance of fairies nowadays; they are\nrefraining from mischief in view of the near approach of the judgment,\nwith the hope of thus conciliating heaven.\n\nThe Prophet Jones, in explaining why the fairies have been so active\nin Wales, expounds the poetico-religious theory in masterly form.\nAfter stating that some in Monmouthshire were so ignorant as to think\nthe fairies happy spirits, because they had music and dancing among\nthem, he proceeds to assert, in the most emphatic terms, that the\nTylwyth Teg are nothing else, 'after all the talking about them,' but\nthe disembodied spirits of men who lived and died without the\nenjoyment of the means of grace and salvation, as Pagans and others,\nand whose punishment therefore is far less severe than that of those\nwho have enjoyed the means of salvation. 'But some persons may desire\nto know why these fairies have appeared in Wales more than in some\nother countries? to which I answer, that I can give no other reason\nbut this, that having lost the light of the true religion in the\neighth and ninth centuries of Christianity, and received Popery in its\nstead, it became dark night upon them; and then these spirits of\ndarkness became more bold and intruding; and the people, as I said\nbefore, in their great ignorance seeing them like a company of\nchildren in dry clean places, dancing and having music among them,\nthought them to be some happy beings, ... and made them welcome in\ntheir houses.... The Welsh entered into familiarity with the fairies\nin the time of Henry IV., and the evil then increased; the severe laws\nof that prince enjoining, among other things, that they were not to\nbring up their children to learning, etc., by which a total darkness\ncame upon them; which cruel laws were occasioned by the rebellion of\nOwen Glandwr, and the Welsh which joined with him; foolishly thinking\nto shake off the Saxon yoke before they had repented of their sins.'\n\nWhatever their locally accepted causes of being may be, it is beyond\nany question that in the fairy folk-lore of Wales, as of other lands,\nare to be found the _debris_ of ancient mythology--scintillant\nfragments of those magic constellations which glow in the darkness of\nprimeval time, grand and majestic as the vast Unknown out of which\nthey were evolved by barbaric fancy. Through the aid of modern\nscientific research, 'those ages which the myths of centuries have\npeopled with heroic shadows'[63] are brought nearer to us, and the\nhumble Welsh Tylwyth Teg may reach back and shake hands with the\nOlympian gods.\n\n  [Illustration: \"THE HUMBLE 'TYLWYTH TEG' SHAKE HANDS WITH THE\n      OLYMPIAN GODS.\"]\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[63] Marquis of Bute, address before the Royal Archaeological\nInstitute, Cardiff meeting.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK II.\n\nTHE SPIRIT-WORLD.\n\n    Where the wan spectres walk eternal rounds.\n                    POPE.\n\n    _Miranda._ What is't? a spirit?\n               Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir,\n               It carries a brave form:--But 'tis a spirit.\n                    SHAKSPEARE: _Tempest_.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\n    Modern Superstition regarding Ghosts--American\n    'Spiritualism'--Welsh Beliefs--Classification of Welsh\n    Ghosts--Departed Mortals--Haunted Houses--Lady Stradling's\n    Ghost--The Haunted Bridge--The Legend of Catrin\n    Gwyn--Didactic Purpose in Cambrian Apparitions--An Insulted\n    Corpse--Duty-performing Ghosts--Laws of the\n    Spirit-World--Cadogan's Ghost.\n\n\nI.\n\nIn an age so given to mysticism as our own, it is unnecessary to urge\nthat the Welsh as a people are not more superstitious regarding\nspirits than other peoples. Belief in the visits to earth of\ndisembodied spirits is common to all lands. There are no doubt\ndifferences in the degree of this belief, as there are differences in\nmatters of detail. Where or how these spirits exist are questions much\nmore difficult to the average faith than why they exist. They exist\nfor the moral good of man; of this there prevails no doubt. The rest\nbelongs to the still unsettled science of the Unknowable. That form\nof mysticism called 'spiritualism' by its disciples is dignified to\nthe thoughtful observer by being viewed as a remnant of the primeval\nphilosophy. When we encounter, in wandering among the picturesque\nghosts of the Welsh spirit-world, last-century stories displaying\ndetails exactly similar to those of modern spiritualism, our interest\nis strongly aroused. The student of folk-lore finds his materials in\nstories and beliefs which appear to be of a widespread family, rather\nthan in stories and beliefs which are unique; and the spirit of\ninquiry is constantly on the alert, in following the details of a good\nold ghost story, however fascinating it may be in a poetic sense. The\nphantoms of the Welsh spirit-world are always picturesque; they are\noften ghastly; sometimes they are amusing to the point of risibility;\nbut besides, they are instructive to him whose purpose in studying is,\nto know.\n\nThat this age is superstitious with regard to ghosts, is not\nwonderful; all ages have been so; the wonder is that this age should\nbe so and yet be the possessor of a scientific record so extraordinary\nas its own. An age which has brought forth the magnetic telegraph,\nsteamships and railway engines, sewing-machines, mowing-machines,\ngas-light, and innumerable discoveries and inventions of marvellous\nutility--not to allude to those of our own decade--should have no\nother use for ghostology than a scientific one. But it would be a work\nas idle as that of the Coblynau themselves, to point out how universal\namong the most civilised nations is the superstition that spirits\nwalk. The 'controls' of the modern spiritualistic seance have the\nworld for their audience. The United States, a land generally\ndeemed--at least by its inhabitants--to be the most advanced in these\ndirections of any on God's footstool, gave birth to modern\nspiritualism. Its disciples there compose a vast body of people,\nrespectable and worthy people in the main (as the victims of\nsuperstition usually are), among whom are many men of high\nintellectual ability. With the masses, some degree of belief in the\nspirits is so nearly universal that I need hardly qualify the\nadjective. In a country where there is practically no such class as\nthat represented in Europe by the peasantry, the rampancy of such a\nbelief is a phenomenon deserving close and curious study. The present\nwork affords no scope for this study, of course. But I may here\nmention in further illustration of my immediate theme, the constant\nappearance, in American communities, of ghosts of the old-fashioned\nsort. Especially in the New England states, which are notable for\ntheir enlightenment, are ghost-stories still frequent--such as that of\nthe haunted school-house at Newburyport, Mass., where a disembodied\nspirit related its own murder; of the ghost of New Bedford, which\nstruck a visitor in the face, so that he yet bears the marks of the\nblow; of the haunted house at Cambridge, in the classic shadow of\nHarvard College. It is actually on record in the last-named case, that\nthe house fell to decay on account of its ghastly reputation, as no\none would live in it; that a tenant who ventured to occupy it in 1877\nwas disturbed by the spirit of a murdered girl who said her mortal\nbones were buried in his cellar; and that a party of men actually dug\nall night in that cellar in search of those bones, while the ghost\nwaltzed in a chamber overhead. The more common form of spirit peculiar\nto our time appears constantly in various parts of the country; it is\ncontinually turning up in the American newspapers, rapping on walls,\nthrowing stones, tipping over tables, etc. 'Mediums' of every grade\nof shrewdness and stupidity, and widely differing degrees of education\nand ignorance, flourish abundantly. Occasionally, where revelations of\nmurder have been made to a mortal by a spirit, the police have taken\nthe matter in hand. It is to be observed as a commendable practice in\nsuch cases, that the mortal is promptly arrested by the police if\nthere has really been a murder; and when the fact appears, as it\nsometimes does, that the mortal had need of no ghost to tell him what\nhe knows, he is hanged.\n\n\nII.\n\nThe Welsh dearly love to discuss questions of a spiritual and\nreligious nature, and there are no doubt many who look upon disbelief\nherein as something approaching paganism. That one should believe in\nGod and a future life, and yet be utterly incredulous as to the\nexistence of a mundane spirit-world, seems to such minds impossible.\nIt is not many years since the clergy taught a creed of this sort. One\nmust not only believe in a spiritual existence, but must believe in\nthat existence here below--must believe that ghosts walked, and\nmeddled, and made disagreeable noises. Our friend the Prophet Jones\ntaught this creed with energy. In his relation of apparitions in\nMonmouthshire, he says: 'Enough is said in these relations to satisfy\nany reasonable sober-minded person, and to confute this ancient\nheresy, now much revived and spreading, especially among the gentry,\nand persons much estranged from God and spiritual things; and such as\nwill not be satisfied with things plainly proved and well designed;\nare, in this respect, no better than fools, and to be despised as\nsuch.... They are chiefly women and men of weak and womanish\nunderstandings, who speak against the accounts of spirits and\napparitions. In some women this comes from a certain proud fineness,\nexcessive delicacy, and a superfine disposition which cannot bear to\nbe disturbed with what is strange and disagreeable to a vain spirit.'\nNor does the Prophet hesitate to apply the term 'Sadducees' to all\ndoubters of his goblins. His warrant for this is found in Wesley and\nLuther. That Luther saw apparitions, or believed he did, is commonly\nknown. Wesley's beliefs in this direction, however, are of a nearer\ncentury, and strike us more strangely; though it must be said that the\nProphet Jones, in our own century, believed more than either of his\neminent prototypes. 'It is true,' wrote Wesley, 'that the English in\ngeneral, and indeed most of the men in Europe, have given up all\naccounts of witches and apparitions as mere old wives' fables. I am\nsorry for it, and I willingly take this opportunity of entering my\nsolemn protest against this violent compliment which so many that\nbelieve the Bible pay to those who do _not_ believe it.... They well\nknow, whether Christians know it or not, that the giving up witchcraft\nis, in effect, giving up the Bible. And they know, on the other hand,\nthat if but one account of the intercourse of men with separate\nspirits be admitted, their whole castle in the air--deism, atheism,\nmaterialism--falls to the ground.'\n\n\nIII.\n\nThe ghosts of Wales present many well-defined features. It is even\npossible to classify them, after a fashion. Of course, as with all\ndescriptions of phantoms, the vagueness inevitable in creatures of the\nimagination is here; but the ghosts of Welsh tradition are often so\nold, and have been handed down so cleanly through successive\ngenerations, that in our day they have almost acquired definite\noutlines, as in the case of images arising from the perceptions.\nAlways bearing in mind the risk of being lost in the labyrinthine\neccentricities of popular fancy, compared to which the Arsinoe of\nHerodotus was unperplexing, I venture to classify the inhabitants of\nthe Welsh spirit-world thus: 1. Departed Mortals; 2. Goblin Animals;\n3. Spectres of Natural Objects; 4. Grotesque Ghosts; 5. Familiar\nSpirits; 6. Death Omens.\n\n\nIV.\n\nThe ghosts of departed mortals are usually the late personal\nacquaintances of the people who see them. But sometimes they are\nstrangers whom nobody knows, and concerning whom everybody is curious.\nTwo such ghosts haunted the streets of Ebbw Vale, in Glamorganshire,\nin January, 1877. One was in the shape of an old woman, the other in\nthat of a girl child. Timid people kept indoors after nightfall, and\nthere were many who believed thoroughly in the ghostly character of\nthe mysterious visitors. Efforts were made to catch them, but they\neluded capture. It was hinted by materialists that they were thieves;\nby unbelievers in spiritualism that they had perhaps escaped from a\nseance in some adjoining town. These ghosts, however, are not very\ninteresting. A cultivated moderner can have no satisfaction in forming\nthe acquaintance of a seance ghost; it is quite otherwise in the case\nof a respectable old family goblin which has haunted a friend's house\nin the most orthodox manner for centuries. Such ghosts are numerous in\nWales, and quite faithfully believed in by selected individuals.\nIndeed one of the highest claims to a dignified antiquity that can be\nput in by a Welsh family mansion, is the possession of a good\nold-fashioned blood-curdling spectre--like that, for example, which\nhas haunted Duffryn House, a handsome stone manse near Cardiff, for\nthe past two hundred years and more. This is the ghost of the doughty\nadmiral Sir Thomas Button, famed in his day as an Arctic navigator.\nSince his death he has faithfully haunted (so the local farm folk say)\nthe cellar and the garden of Duffryn House, where he lived, when he\ndid live, which was in the 17th century. He has never been known to\nappear in hall or chamber of the mansion, within the memory of man,\nbut has been seen hovering over the beer butt or tun in the cellar,\ncommemorated in his name, and walking in the flower-garden of a fine\nwindy night.\n\nIt is noteworthy that in Wales it is by no means necessary that a\nhouse should be tenantless, mortally speaking, merely because a ghost\nhaunts it. The dreary picture of desolation drawn by Hood, the\nall-sufficient explanation of which was--\n\n    ... the place is haunted!\n\nwould not recall the smug tidiness of Duffryn House, whose clean-cut\nlawns and well-trimmed hedges are fit surroundings of a mansion where\nluxurious comfort reigns. A ghost which confines itself to the cellar\nand the garden need disturb neither the merrymaking nor the slumbers\nof the guests.\n\nSt. Donat's Castle is down on the southern coast of Glamorganshire, in\na primitive region not yet profaned by railroads, nor likely to be\nperhaps for many years to come. It is owned and inhabited by a worthy\ngentleman whose ancestors for seven centuries sleep in the graveyard\nunder the old castle wall. Its favourite ghost--for to confine this\nor any other ancient Welsh castle to a single ghost would be almost\ndisrespectful--is that of Lady Stradling, who was done away with by\nsome of her family in those wicked old times when families did not\nalways dwell in peace together. This ghost makes a practice of\nappearing when any mishap is about to befall a member of the house of\nStradling--the direct line of which is, however, extinct, a fact not\nvery well apprehended among the neighbouring peasantry. She wears\nhigh-heeled shoes and a long trailing gown of the finest silk. In this\nguise doth she wander up and down the long majestic halls and\nchambers, and, while she wanders, the castle hounds refuse to rest,\nbut with their howlings raise all the dogs of the village under the\nhill.\n\n\nV.\n\nGhosts of this sort are vague and purposeless in character, beyond a\ngeneral blood-curdling office which in all ghosts doth dwell. They\nhaunt not only castles and family mansions, but bridges, rocks, and\nroads, objectless but frightful. The ghost of Pont Cwnca Bach, near\nYscanhir, in Carmarthenshire, frightens people off the bridge into the\nrivulet. Many belated peasants have had this dire experience at the\nlittle bridge, afterwards wandering away in a dazed condition, and\nfinding themselves on recovering at some distance from home, often in\nthe middle of a bog. In crossing this bridge people were seized with\n'a kind of _cold dread_,' and felt 'a peculiar sensation' which they\ncould not describe, but which the poorest fancy can no doubt imagine.\nAnother purposeless spectre exists in the legend of Catrin Gwyn, told\nin Cardiganshire. The ruin of a shepherd's cottage, standing on a\nmountain waste near the river Rheidol, is the haunt of this spectre.\nA peasant who was asked to escort a stranger up the narrow defile of\nrocks by the ruin, in horror exclaimed, 'Yn enw y daioni, peidiwch,'\n(in the name of heaven, sir, don't go!) 'or you'll meet White Catti of\nthe Grove Cave.' 'And what's that?' 'An evil spirit, sir.' And the\nsuperstitious peasant would neither be laughed nor reasoned out of his\nfears. Catrin was the bride of a young shepherd living near\nMachynlleth in 1705. One day she went to market with a party of other\npeasants, who separated from her on the return way at a point two\nmiles from Gelli Gogo. She was never more seen alive. A violent storm\narose in the night, and next day a scrap of her red cloak was found on\nthe edge of a frightful bog, in which she is believed to have\ndisappeared in the darkness and storm. The husband went mad; their\ncottage fell to decay; and to this day the shepherds declare that\nCatti's ghost haunts the spot. It is most often seen, and in its most\nterrific shape, during howling storms, when it rides on the gale,\nshrieking as it goes.[64]\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[64] 'Camb. Quarterly,' i., 452.\n\n\nVI.\n\nFew Cambrian spirits are devoid of a didactic purpose. Some teach\nreverence for the dead,--a lesson in great request among the rising\ngeneration in Wales and elsewhere. The church at Tregaron,\nCardiganshire, was being rebuilt in 1877, and certain skulls were\nturned up by the diggers in making new foundations. The boys of\nTregaron amused themselves playing ball with the skulls, picking out\ntheir teeth, banging them against the wall to see if they would break,\nand the like.[65] They probably never heard the story told by Mrs.\nMorgan of Newport to the Prophet Jones: of some people who were\ndrinking at an inn there, 'two of them officers of excise,' when one\nof the men, to show his courage, declared he was afraid of no ghosts,\nand dared go to the charnel house and fetch a skull from that ghastly\nplace. This bold and dangerous thing he did, and the men debated, over\ntheir beer, whether it was a male or a female skull, and concluded it\nwas a woman's, 'though the grave nearly destroys the difference\nbetween male and female before the bones are turned to dust, and the\ndifference then quite destroyed and known only to God.' After a jolly\nhour over the skull, the bold one carried it back and left it where he\ngot it; but as he was leaving the church, suddenly a tremendous blast\nlike a whirlwind seized him, and so mauled and hauled him that his\nteeth chattered in his head and his knees knocked together, and he\never after swore that nothing should tempt him to such a deed again.\nHe was still more convinced that the ghost of the original owner of\nthe skull had been after him, when he got home, and his wife told him\nthat his cane, which hung in the room, had been beating against the\nwall in a dreadful manner.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[65] 'Western Mail,' Dec. 14, 1877.\n\n\nVII.\n\nAs a rule, the motive for the reappearance on earth of a spirit lately\ntenanting a mortal body, is found in some neglected duty. The spirit\nof a suicide is morally certain to walk: a reason why suicides are so\nunpopular as tenants of graveyards. It is a brave man who will go to\nthe grave of a suicide and play 'Hob y deri dando' on the ysturmant\n(jew's-harp), without missing a note. Many are the tales displaying\nthe motive, on the ghost's part, of a duty to perform--sometimes\nclearly defining it, sometimes vaguely suggesting it, as in the story\nof Noe. 'The evening was far gone when a traveller of the name of Noe\narrived at an inn in Pembrokeshire, and called for refreshment. After\nremaining some time he remarked that he must proceed on his journey.\n\"Surely,\" said the astonished landlord, \"you will not travel at night,\nfor it is said that a ghost haunts that road, crying out, The days are\nlong and the nights are cold to wait for Noe.\" \"O, I am the man sought\nfor,\" said he, and immediately departed; but strange to say, neither\nNoe nor the ghost was ever heard of afterwards.'[66]\n\nThe ghost of a weaver, which appeared to Walter John Harry, had a very\nclear idea of the duty he must perform: Walter John Harry was a\nQuaker, a harmless, honest man, and by trade a farrier, who lived in\nthe romantic valley of Ebwy Fawr. The house he lived in was haunted by\nthe ghost of Morgan Lewis, a weaver, who had died in that house. One\nnight, while lying awake in his bed, with his wife sleeping by his\nside, Harry saw a light slowly ascending the stairs, and being\nsomewhat afraid, though he was naturally a fearless man, strove to\nawake his wife by pinching her, but could not awake her. So there he\nlay in great fear, and with starting eyes beheld the ghost of the\nweaver come up the stairs, bearing a candle in its hand, and wearing a\nwhite woollen cap on its head, with other garments usual to the weaver\nwhen alive. The ghost came near the farrier's bed, who then mustered\nup courage to speak to it. 'Morgan Lewis,' said Harry, 'why dost thou\nwalk this earth?' The ghost replied with great solemnity, that its\nreason for so doing was that there were some 'bottoms of wool' hidden\nin the wall of this house, and until these said bottoms were removed\nfrom the wall it could not sleep. The ghost did not say this wool had\nbeen stolen, but such was the inference. However, the harmless farrier\nspoke severely to the ghost, saying, 'I charge thee, Morgan Lewis, in\nthe name of God, that thou trouble my house no more.' Whereupon the\nghost vanished, and the house ceased thereafter to be haunted.\n\nThe motives animating ghosts are much the same the world over, and\nthese details have no greater novelty than that of the local\ncolouring. European peoples are familiar with the duty-compelled\nghost; but it is odd to encounter the same spectre in China. The most\ncommon form of Chinese ghost-story is that wherein the ghost seeks to\nbring to justice the murderer who shuffled off its mortal coil. The\nghosts of suicides are also especially obnoxious there. The spectres\nwhich are animated by a sense of duty are more frequently met than any\nothers: now they seek to serve virtue in distress, now they aim to\nrestore wrongfully-held treasure.[67]\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[66] 'Camb. Sup.,' 31.\n\n[67] Dennys, 'Folk-Lore of China,' 73.\n\n\nVIII.\n\nThe laws governing the Welsh spirit-world are clear and explicit. A\nghost on duty bent has no power of speech until first spoken to. Its\npersistency in haunting is due to its eager desire to speak, and tell\nits urgent errand, but the person haunted must take his courage in\nboth hands and put the question to the issue. Having done so, he is\nbooked for the end of the business, be it what it may. The mode of\nspeech adopted must not vary, in addressing a spirit; in the name of\nthe Father, Son, or Holy Ghost it must be addressed, and not\notherwise. Its business must be demanded; three times the question\nmust be repeated, unless the ghost answer earlier. When it answers, it\nspeaks in a low and hollow voice, stating its desire; and it must not\nbe interrupted while speaking, for to interrupt it is dangerous in the\nextreme. At the close of its remarks, questions are in order. They\nmust be promptly delivered, however, or the ghost will vanish. They\nmust bear on the business in hand: it is offended if asked as to its\nstate, or other idle questions born of curiosity. Neglect to obey the\nghost's injunctions will lead to much annoyance, and eventually to\ndire results. At first the spirit will appear with a discontented\nvisage, next with an angry one, and finally with a countenance\ndistorted with the most ferocious rage. Obedience is the only method\nof escape from its revenge. Such is a _resume_ of the laws. The\nillustrations thereof are generally consistent in their details.\n\nThe story of Cadogan's ghost is one of many in kind. Thomas Cadogan\nwas the owner of a large estate in the parish of Llanvihangel\nLlantarnam, and being a covetous man did wickedly remove his landmarks\nin such a way as to absorb to himself part of the land of a widow his\nneighbour. After his death this injustice troubled him, and as a\ncertain woman was going home one night, at a stile she passed over she\nmet Cadogan's ghost. By a strange forgetfulness, this woman for the\nmoment lost sight of the fact that Cadogan was now a ghost; she had\nmomentarily forgotten that Cadogan was dead. 'Mr. Cadogan,' said she,\nwith ungrammatical curiosity, 'what does you here this time o' night?'\nTo which the ghost answered, 'I was obliged to come.' It then\nexplained the matter of the landmarks, and begged the woman to request\na certain person (whom it mentioned) to remove them back to their\nproper places; and then the ghost vanished. At this unexpected\ntermination of the interview, the woman suddenly recollected Cadogan's\ndeath, and fell into a state of extreme terror. She however did as the\nghost had bidden her, and Cadogan walked no more.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\n    Household Ghosts and Hidden Treasures--The Miser of St.\n    Donat's--Anne Dewy's Ghost--The Ghost on Horseback--Hidden\n    Objects of Small Value--Transportation through the Air--From\n    Breconshire to Philadelphia, Pa., in Thirty-Six Hours--Sir\n    David Llwyd, the Magician--The Levitation of Walter\n    Jones--Superstitions regarding Hares--The Legend of\n    Monacella's Lambs--Aerial Transportation in Modern\n    Spiritualism--Exorcising Household Ghosts--The Story of\n    Haunted Margaret.\n\n\nI.\n\nThe majority of stories of this class turn on the subject of hidden\ntreasures. The popular belief is that if a person die while any\nhoarded money--or indeed metal of any kind, were it nothing more than\nold iron--is still hidden secretly, the spirit of that person cannot\nrest. Its perturbation can only be relieved by finding a human hand to\ntake the hidden metal, and throw it down the stream of a river. To\nthrow it up the stream, will not do. The Ogmore is the favourite river\nfor this purpose in lower Glamorganshire. The spirit selects a\nparticular person as the subject of its attentions, and haunts that\nperson till asked what it wants, when it prefers its request. Some say\nit is only ill-gotten treasure which creates this disturbance of the\ngrave's repose. A tailor's wife at Llantwit Major, who had been a\nstout and jolly dame, was thus haunted until she was worn to the\nsemblance of a skeleton, 'for not choosing to take a hoard honestly to\nthe Ogmore.' But flesh and blood could not resist for ever, and\nso--this is her story: 'I at last consented, for the sake of quiet,\nto take the treasure to the river; and the spirit wafted me through\nthe air so high that I saw below me the church loft, and all the\nhouses, as if I leaned out of a balloon. When I took the treasure to\nthrow it into the river, in my flurry I flung it up stream instead of\ndown: and on this the spirit, with a savage look, tossed me into a\nwhirlwind, and however I got back to my home I know not.' The\nbell-ringers found her lying insensible in the church lane, as they\nwere going home from church late in the evening.\n\n\nII.\n\nThere was an old curmudgeon of a money-hoarder who lived in a cottage\non the side of the cwm, or dingle, at St. Donat's, not far from the\nCastle. His housekeeper was an antique dame of quaint aspect. He died,\nand the dame lived there alone; but she began to grow so gaunt and\ngrizzly that people wondered at it, and the children ran frightened\nfrom her. Some one finally got from her the confession that she was\nhaunted by the miser's ghost. To relieve her of its presence the\nMethodists resolved to hold a prayer-meeting in the haunted house.\nWhile they were there singing and praying the old woman suddenly\njumped up and screamed, 'There he is! there he is!' The people grew\nsilent. Then some one said, 'Ask it what it wants.' 'What do you\nwant?' quavered the old woman. No one heard the reply, except the\ndame, who presently said: 'Where is it?' Then the old woman, nodding\nand staring as if obeying an invisible mandate, groped her way to the\nchimney, thrust her gaunt arm up, and drew down a bag of money. With\nthis she cried out, 'Let me go! let me go!' which, no one preventing\nher, she did, as quickly as a flash of light. Some young men by the\ndoor followed her, and, it being a bright moonlight night, beheld her\nwhisk over the stile without touching it, and so off up the road\ntowards the Ogmore. The people now resumed their praying and singing.\nIt was an hour before the old woman got back, and then she was found\nto be spattered with mud and bedraggled with wet, as if she had been\nhaving a terrific time. She had indeed, as she confessed, been to the\nOgmore, and thrown the bag of money down the stream; the ghost had\nthen taken off its hat, made a low bow, and vanished, to trouble her\nno more.\n\n\nIII.\n\nA young man from Llywel parish, who was courting a lass who lodged at\nthe house of Thomas Richard, in the vale of Towy, found himself\nhaunted as he went to and fro by the ghost of Anne Dewy, a woman who\nhad hanged herself. She would not only meet him in the road, and\nfrighten him, but she would come to his bedside, and so scare him that\nhe fell ill. While he was ill his cousin came to see him, and thinking\nhis illness was due to his being crossed in love, rallied him, saying,\n'Wfft! thou'rt sick because thy cariad has refused thee.' But being\ngravely answered, and told of Anne Dewy's ghost, this cousin advised\nthe haunted man to speak to her. 'Speak to her,' said he, 'or thou\nwilt have no quiet. I will go with thee, and see thou shalt have no\nharm.' So they went out, and called at Tafarn y Garreg, an inn not far\noff; but the haunted man could not drink, and often looked towards the\ndoor. 'What ails the man?' asked the tap-room loungers. He continued\nto be uneasy, and finally went out, his cousin following him, and then\nhe saw the ghost again. 'Oh God, here she is!' he cried out, his teeth\nchattering and his eyes rolling. 'This is a sad thing,' said his\ncousin: 'I know not what to think of thee; but come, I will go with\nthee, go where thou wilt.' They returned to the ale-house, and after a\nwhile the haunted man started up, saying he was called, but when\nothers offered to go with him he said no, he must go alone. He did go\nalone, and spoke to the ghost, who said, 'Fear nothing; follow me.'\nShe led him to a spot behind the house where she had lived when in the\nflesh, and where she had hanged herself, and bade him take from the\nwall a small bag. He did so. The bag contained 'a great sum of money,'\nin pieces of gold; he guessed it might be 200_l._ or more. But the\nghost, greatly to his regret, bade him go and cast it into the river.\nHe obeyed, against his better judgment. The next day, and for many a\nday thereafter, people looked for that money where he had thrown it in\nthe river, but it never could be found. The Rev. Thomas Lewis, a\ndissenting minister in those parts, saw the place in the wall where\nthe money had been hid, in the haunted house, and wondered how the\nyoung man could reach it, it being so very high; but thought it likely\nhe was assisted by the ghost.\n\n\nIV.\n\nThis same Rev. Thomas Lewis was well acquainted with a man who was\nsimilarly employed by a perturbed spirit, and was at the man's bedside\nwhen he died. This ghost was in appearance a clergyman, dressed in\nblack clothes, with a white wig on. As the man was looking out of an\nale-house window one night, he saw this ghost on horseback, and went\nout to him. The ghost bowed and silently offered him drink; but this\nwas declined. Thereupon the ghost lifted his hat, crooked his elbow,\nand said in a hollow tone, 'Attoch chwi, syr,' (towards you, sir).\nBut others who were there could see nothing and hear nothing. The\nghost then said, 'Go to Clifford Castle, in Radnorshire, take out some\nmoney which lies hidden there, and throw it into the river. Do this, I\ncharge thee, or thou shalt have no rest.' Further and more explicit\ndirections were then given, and the unhappy man set out, against his\nwill, for Clifford Castle, which is the castle in which was born Fair\nRosamond, King Henry II.'s beautiful favourite. No one but himself was\nallowed to enter the castle, although he was permitted to have a\nfriend's company to the ruined gate thereof. It was dark when they\ncame to the castle, but he was guided to the place where the money\nwas, and ran with it and flung it into the river. After that he was\nhaunted no more.\n\nAn old house at Ty'n-y-Twr, in Carnarvonshire, was haunted by a ghost\nwhose troubles were a reversal of the rule. A new tenant, who took\npossession of the house a few years ago, was so bothered by this\nspectre that he resolved to question it. He did so and got for answer\nthe information that if he would deposit a particular sum of money in\na specified place, his ghostship would cease to walk. The man actually\ndid this, and it acted like magic. The money disappeared with\npromptitude, and the ghost came there no more.\n\nA man at Crumlyn, Monmouthshire, was haunted by a ghost whose trouble\nrelated to a hidden object of small value. Nevertheless the spectre\nwas so importunate that the man set out one night to accompany it to\nthe scene of perturbation. In due time they came to a huge stone,\nwhich the ghost bade its friend lift up, who replied that he had not\nsufficient strength, it being a pretty large rock he was thus\nrequested to move. 'But try,' said the ghost. So he tried, and lo! it\nwas lifted as if it had been a feather. He drew forth a pike, or\nmattock; 'and the light,' the man afterwards related, 'was as great as\nif the sun shone; and in the snow there was no impression of the feet\nof either of us.' They went to the river, and by the ghost's command\nthe man threw the pike over his head into the water, standing with his\nback to the flood. The ghost then conducted him home, and never\ntroubled him more. But for a long time after he was out of his senses.\n\nThis was an illustration, according to the popular belief, of the\nwickedness of hiding anything, however trifling its value--a practice\nstrongly condemned by the Welsh peasantry.\n\nThere is a Glamorganshire story about a certain young man who,\nreturning late at night from courting his sweetheart, felt tired, and\nsitting down fell asleep. He had not slept long when he was aroused by\na strange noise, and looking up recognised the ghost of his departed\ngrandfather. Enquiring the cause of the old gentleman's visit to this\nscene of trials, he got this answer: 'Under the corner of the thatch\nof your roof, look and you will find a pair of silver spurs,\nsurreptitiously obtained by me when in the flesh, and hidden there.\nThrow them into the river Taff, and I shall be at peace.' The young\nman obeyed these instructions, and found the spurs accordingly; and\nalthough many persons were present when he climbed to the roof and\nfumbled under the thatch, and saw him in the very act, not one among\nthem could see the spurs, which were to them invisible. They said,\nhowever, that when the purloined spurs had been thrown into the river,\na bright flame was seen to flash along the water.\n\n\nV.\n\nA large proportion of these stories of ghostly perturbation concerning\nhidden treasure include a further feature of great interest, relating\nto transportation through the air. I have mentioned that ghosts\nsometimes employ the services of the fairy Boobach in thus carrying\nmortals from place to place. The fairies of Wales are indeed\nfrequently found to be on the best of terms with the ghosts. Their\nraces have much in common, and so many of their practices are alike\nthat one is not always absolutely sure whether he is dealing with a\nfairy or a spectre, until some test-point crops up. However, in\ntransporting a mortal through the air, ghost and fairy work together.\nThe Boobach being set his task, complaisantly gives the mortal the\nchoice of being transported above wind, amid wind, or below wind. The\nvalue of knowing beforehand what to expect, was never better\nillustrated than in this place. The mortal who, with a natural\nreluctance to get into an unpleasantly swift current, avoids\ntravelling mid-wind, misses a pleasant journey, for mid-wind is the\nonly agreeable mode of being borne by a Boobach. Should you choose to\ngo above wind, you are transported so high that you skim the clouds\nand are in danger of being frightened to death. But choosing the\nbelow-wind course is even worse, for then you are dragged through\nbush, through briar, in a way to impress upon you the advice of Apollo\nto Phaeton, and teach you the value of the golden mean. _In medio\ntutissimus ibis._\n\n\nVI.\n\nIn the parish of Ystradgynlais, in Breconshire, Thomas Llewellyn, an\ninnkeeper's son, was often troubled by the spirit of a well-dressed\nwoman, who used to stand before him in narrow lanes, as if to bar his\npassage, but he always got by her, though in great alarm. One night he\nmustered up courage to speak to her, and ask her what she wanted with\nhim. To which she replied, 'Be not afraid; I will not hurt thee.' Then\nshe told him he must go to 'Philadelphia in Pennsylvania,' and take a\nbox from a house there, (which she described,) in which there was a\nsum of 200_l._ But as he did not know how to go to that far-off place,\nhe said as much. 'Meet me here next Friday night,' said the phantom;\n'meet me, I charge thee.' She then vanished. The young man went home\nand told this story to his neighbours and friends. They held a\nconsultation with the curate of the parish, who promptly appointed a\nprayer-meeting for that Friday night, to which the young man was\nbidden, and by which it was hoped the purpose of the ghost to spirit\nhim off to Philadelphia might be circumvented. The meeting continued\nuntil midnight, and when it broke up the young man's friends stayed\nwith him; but they had no sooner got beyond the parson's stables than\nhe was taken from among them. His subsequent adventures are thus\nrelated by himself: 'The apparition carried me away to a river, and\nthrew me into it, chiding me for telling the people of our appointed\nmeeting and for not coming to meet her as she had charged me; but bade\nme be not afraid, that she would not hurt me, because she had not\ncharged me to be silent on the subject; nevertheless I had done wrong\nto go to the parson's house. Now, said she, we begin the journey. I\nwas then lifted up and carried away I know not how. When I came to the\nplace,' (in Philadelphia,) 'I was taken into a house, and conducted to\na fine room. The spirit then bade me lift up a board, which I did. I\nthen saw the box, and took it. Then the spirit said I must go three\nmiles and cast it into the black sea. We went, as I thought, to a lake\nof clear water, where I was commanded to throw the box into it; which\nwhen I did there was such a noise as if all about was going to pieces.\nFrom thence I was taken up and carried to the place where I was first\ntaken up. I then asked her, Am I free now? She said I was; and then\nshe told me a secret, which she strictly charged me to tell no\nperson.' Extensive and ingenious guessing was indulged in by all\nYstradgynlais, as to what this secret might be; and one woman made\nherself popular by remembering that there was a certain Elizabeth\nGething in other days who had gone from this neighbourhood to\nPennsylvania, and the conclusion was eagerly arrived at, that this was\nthe woman whose phantom the young man saw, and that the secret she\ntold him was her name when alive. They questioned him as to her\nappearance, and he said she was largely made, very pale, her looks\nsevere, and her voice hollow, different from a human voice. This was\nconsidered by the Ystradgynlaisians, with many nods to each other, as\na most accurate description of what Elizabeth Gething would probably\nbe, after having shuffled off this mortal coil. The time occupied in\nthis mysterious transportation and ghostly enterprise was three days\nand three nights; that is, from Friday night to Monday night; and when\nthe voyager came home he could scarcely speak.\n\n\nVII.\n\nSir David Llwyd, the Welsh magician, was once at Lanidloes town, in\nMontgomeryshire, and as he was going home late at night, saw a boy\nthere from his neighbourhood. He asked the lad if he would like to\nride home behind him, and receiving an affirmative reply, took the boy\nup behind on the horse's back. They rode so swiftly that they were\nhome in no time, and the boy lost one of his garters in the journey.\nThe next day, seeing something hanging in the ash-tree near the\nchurch, he climbed up to learn what it was, and to his great surprise\nfound it was the garter he had lost. 'Which shows they rode home in\nthe air,' observes the Prophet Jones in telling the story. Mr. Jones\nhas a number of extraordinary narratives of this class--e.g., the\nfollowing, which I condense:\n\nHenry Edmund, of Hafodafel, was one night visiting Charles Hugh, the\nconjuror of Aberystruth, and they walked together as far as Lanhiddel,\nwhere Hugh tried to persuade his companion to stay all night with him\nat a public house. Edmund refused, and said he would go home. 'You had\n_better_ stay,' said Hugh in a meaning tone. But Edmund went out into\nthe street, when he was seized by invisible hands and borne through\nthe air to Landovery, in Carmarthenshire, a distance of fully fifty\nmiles as the crow flies. There he was set down at a public house where\nhe had before been, and talked with people who knew him. He then went\nout into the street, when he was seized again and borne back to\nLanhiddel, arriving there the next morning at daybreak. The first man\nhe met was the conjuror Charles Hugh, who said, 'Did I not tell you\nyou had better stay with me?'\n\n\nVIII.\n\nThe landlord of the inn at Langattock Crickhowel, in Breconshire, was\na man called Richard the Tailor. He was more than suspected of\nresorting to the company of fairies, and of practising infernal arts.\nOne day a company of gentlemen were hunting in that vicinity, when the\nhounds started a hare, which ran so long and so hard that everybody\nwas prostrated with fatigue; and this hare disappeared from view at\nthe cellar window of the inn kept by Richard the Tailor. The\ncircumstance begat a suspicion among the hunters that the hare which\nhad so bothered them was none other than Richard the Tailor himself,\nand that his purpose in taking that form had been to lead them a dance\nand bring them to the door of his inn at an hour too late for them to\nreturn home, thus compelling them to spend their money there. They\nstayed, however, being very tired. But they growled very hard at their\nlandlord and were perfectly free with their comments on his base\nconduct. One of their party, having occasion to go out-doors during\nthe evening, did not come back; his name was Walter Jones, and he was\nwell known in that part of the country. The company became uneasy at\nhis absence, and began to abuse the landlord roundly, threatening to\nburn the house if Walter Jones did not return. Notwithstanding their\nthreats, Walter Jones came not back all night. Late the next morning\nhe made his appearance, looking like one who had been drawn through\nthorns and briars, with his hair in disorder, and his whole aspect\nterribly demoralised. His story was soon told. He had no sooner got\nout-doors than invisible hands had whisked him up, and whirled him\nalong rough ways until daybreak, when he found himself near by the\ntown of Newport, helping a man from Risca to raise a load of coal upon\nhis horse. Suddenly he became insensible, and was whisked back again\nto the inn where they now saw him. The distance he traversed in going\nto and fro was about forty miles. And Walter Jones, who had hitherto\nbeen an ungodly man, mended his ways from that time forth.\n\n\nIX.\n\nThere are many points in all these traditional stories which are\nsuggestive of interesting comparisons, and constantly remind us of the\nsignificance of details which, at first sight, seem trivial. The\nsupposed adoption of the hare form by the tailor recalls a host of\nmythological details. The hare has been identified with the sun-god\nMichabo of the American Indians, who sleeps through the winter months,\nand symbolises the sleep of nature precisely as in the fairy myth of\nthe Sleeping Maiden, and the Welsh legends of Sleeping Heroes. Among\nthe Hottentots, the hare figures as the servant of the moon. In China,\nthe hare is viewed as a telluric genius in one province, and\neverywhere as a divine animal. In Wales, one of the most charming of\nthe local legends relates how a hare flying from the hounds took\nrefuge under a fair saint's robes, so that hares were ever after\ncalled Monacella's Lambs in that parish. Up to a comparatively recent\ntime, no person in the parish would kill a hare. When a hare was\npursued by dogs, it was firmly believed that if any one cried, 'God\nand St. Monacella be with thee,' it was sure to escape. The legend is\nrelated by Pennant, in his tour through Montgomeryshire: 'At about two\nmiles distant from Llangynog, I turned up a small valley to the right,\nto pay my devotions to the shrine of St. Monacella, or, as the Welsh\nstyle her, Melangell.... She was the daughter of an Irish monarch, who\nhad determined to marry her to a nobleman of his court. The princess\nhad vowed celibacy. She fled from her father's dominions, and took\nrefuge in this place, where she lived fifteen years without seeing\nthe face of man. Brochwel Yscythrog, prince of Powys, being one day a\nhare-hunting, pursued his game till he came to a great thicket; when\nhe was amazed to find a virgin of surprising beauty engaged in deep\ndevotion, with the hare he had been pursuing under her robe, boldly\nfacing the dogs, who retired to a distance, howling, notwithstanding\nall the efforts of the sportsmen to make them seize their prey. When\nthe huntsman blew his horn, it stuck to his lips. Brochwel heard her\nstory, and gave to God and her a parcel of lands to be a sanctuary to\nall who fled there. He desired her to found an abbey on the spot. She\ndid so, and died abbess of it, in a good old age. She was buried in\nthe neighbouring church.... Her hard bed is shown in the cleft of a\nneighbouring rock. Her tomb was in a little chapel, or oratory,\nadjoining to the church and now used as a vestry-room. This room is\nstill called cell y bedd, (cell of the grave).... The legend is\nperpetuated by some rude wooden carvings of the saint, with numbers of\nhares scuttling to her for protection.'\n\n\nX.\n\nIt is interesting to observe, in connection with the subject of\ntransportation through the air, with what vitality this superstition\nlingers in modern spiritualism. The accounts of such transportation\nare familiar to every reader of newspapers. That Mr. Home was seen, by\na learned English nobleman, sailing through the moonlight seventy feet\nfrom the ground, is on record; that Mrs. Guppy was transported from\nHighbury Park to Lamb's Conduit Street, in London, in a trance and a\nstate of partial _deshabille_, is also on record; and that a\nwell-known American spiritualist was borne by invisible hands from\nChicago to Milwaukee and back, between midnight and 4 A.M., I have\nbeen assured by a number of persons in Illinois who thoroughly\nbelieved it, or said they did. But it certainly is not too much to\ndemand, that people who give credence to these instances of aerial\ntransportation should equally believe in the good old ghost stories of\nthe Welsh. The same consistency calls for credulity as to the\ndemoniacal elevation of Simon Magus, and the broomstick riding of the\nwitches whose supernatural levitation was credited by Lord Bacon and\nSir Matthew Hale, not to speak of Addison and Wesley.\n\nThere is something peculiarly fascinating to the gross denizens of\nearth in this notion of skimming like a bird over house-tops. No\ndreams, save those of love and dalliance, are so charming to the\ndreamer as visions of flying; to find oneself floating along over the\ntops of trees, over the streets where less favoured mortals walk, to\nlook down on them as they stroll, is to feel an exquisite pleasure.\nThe mind of childhood and that of ignorance, alike unable to\ndiscriminate between reality and illusion, would naturally retain the\nimpression of such a dream with peculiar vividness. The superstition\nhas no doubt been fostered by this fact, although it, like most\nsuperstitions, began its career in pre-historic days. The same class\nof belief attaches to the magical lore of widely separated lands, in\nall ages. The magic carpet of the Arabian Nights finds its parallel\nto-day in the enchanted mat of the Chinese conjuror, which carries him\nfrom place to place, at a height of twenty or thirty feet in the air.\nThe levitation involved is in Welsh story embodied in the person of\nSgilti Yscawndroed; when he was sent on a message through the wood he\nwent along the tops of the trees; in his whole life, a blade of reed\ngrass never bent beneath his feet, so light was his tread.[68]\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[68] Lady Charlotte Guest's 'Mabinogion,' 225.\n\n\nXI.\n\nIt remains but to add, in connection with our household ghosts, that\nthe method of exorcising such goblins in Wales is explicit. The\nobjectionable spectre must be conjured, in the name of Heaven, to\ndepart, and return no more. Not always is this exorcism effective; the\nghost may have a specific purpose in hand, or it may be obstinate. The\nstrength of the exorcism is doubled by employing the Latin language to\ndeliver it; it receives its utmost power, however, through the clergy;\nthree clergymen, it is thought, will exorcise any ghost that walks.\nThe exorcism is usually for a stated period; seven years is the\nfavourite time; one hundred years the limit. There are many instances\nwhere a ghost which had been laid a hundred years returned at the end\nof the time to its old haunts. In all cases it is necessary the ghost\nshould agree to be exorcised; no power can lay it if it be possessed\nof an evil demon--a spirit within a spirit, as it were--which\nstubbornly refuses to listen to argument. In such cases the terrors of\nHeaven must be rigorously invoked; but the result is only temporary.\nProperly constituted family ghosts, however, will lend a reasonable\near to entreaty, backed by prayer. There are even cases on record\nwhere the ghost has been the entreater, as in the story of Haunted\nMargaret.\n\nHaunted Margaret, or Marget yr Yspryd, was a servant-girl who lived in\nthe parish of Panteg. She had been seduced by a man who promised to\nmarry her, and a day was set for their wedding; but when the day came,\nthe man was not on hand, and Margaret thereupon fell on her knees in\nthe church and prayed Heaven that her seducer might have no rest\neither in this world or in the world to come. In due course the man\ndied, and immediately his ghost came to haunt Margaret Richard. People\nheard her in the night saying to the ghost, 'What dost thou want?' or\n'Be quiet, let me alone;' and hence it was that she came to be known\nin that parish by the nickname of Marget yr Yspryd. One evening when\nthe haunted woman was at the house of Mrs. Hercules Jenkins, at\nTrosdra, she began to be uneasy, and as it grew late said, 'I must go\nnow, or else I shall be sure to meet him on the way home.' Mrs.\nJenkins advised Margaret to speak to him; 'and tell him thou dost\nforgive him,' said the good dame. Margaret went her way, and as she\ndrew near a stile at the end of a foot-bridge, she saw the ghost at\nthe stile waiting for her. When she came up to it the ghost said, 'Do\nthou forgive me, and God will forgive thee. Forgive me and I shall be\nat rest, and never trouble thee any more.' Margaret then forgave him,\nand he shook hands with her in a friendly way, and vanished.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\n    Spectral Animals--The Chained Spirit--The Gwyllgi, or Dog of\n    Darkness--The Legend of Lisworney-Crossways--The Gwyllgi of\n    the Devil's Nags--The Dog of Pant y Madog--Terrors of the\n    Brute Creation at Phantoms--Apparitions of Natural\n    Objects--Phantom Ships and Phantom Islands.\n\n\nI.\n\nOf spectral animals there is no great diversity in Cambria, unless one\nshould class under this head sundry poetic creatures which more\nproperly belong to the domain of magic, or to fairyland. The spirits\nof favourite animals which have died return occasionally to visit\ntheir masters. Sometimes it is a horse, which is seen on a dark night\nlooking in at the window, its eyes preternaturally large. More often\nit is the ghost of a dog which revisits the glimpses of the moon. Men\nsometimes become as fondly attached to a dog as they could to any\nhuman being, and, where the creed of piety is not too severe, the\npossibility of a dog's surviving after death in a better world is\nadmitted. 'It is hard to look in that dog's eyes and believe,' said a\nWelshman to me, 'that he has not a bit of a soul to be saved.' The\nalmost human companionship of the dog for man is a familiar fact. It\nis not strange, therefore, that the dog should be the animal whose\nspirit, in popular belief, shares the nature of man's after death.\n\n\nII.\n\nSometimes the spirit in animal form is the spirit of a mortal, doomed\nto wear this shape for some offence. This again trenches on the\nground of magic; but the ascription to the spirit-world is distinct in\nmodern instances. There was a Rev. Mr. Hughes, a clergyman of the\nChurch of England, in the isle and county of Anglesea, who was\nesteemed the most popular preacher thereabout in the last century, and\nupon this account was envied by the rest of the clergy, 'which\noccasioned his becoming a field preacher for a time, though he was\nreceived into the Church again.'[69] As he was going one night to\npreach, he came upon an artificial circle in the ground, between\nAmlwch village and St. Elian Church, where a spirit in the shape of a\nlarge greyhound jumped against him and threw him from his horse. This\nexperience was repeated on a second night. The third night he went on\nfoot, and warily; and now he saw that the spirit was chained. He drew\nnear, but keeping beyond the reach of the chain, and questioned the\nspirit: 'Why troublest thou those that pass by?' The spirit replied\nthat its unrest was due to a silver groat it had hidden under a stone\nwhen in the flesh, and which belonged to the church of St. Elian. The\nclergyman being told where the groat was, found it and paid it over to\nthe church, and the chained spirit was released.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[69] Jones, 'Apparitions.'\n\n\nIII.\n\nIn the Gwyllgi, or Dog of Darkness, is seen a spirit of terrible form,\nwell known to students of folk-lore. This is a frightful apparition of\na mastiff, with a baleful breath and blazing red eyes which shine like\nfire in the night. It is huge in size, and reminds us of the 'shaggy\nmastiff larger than a steed nine winters old,' which guarded the sheep\nbefore the castle of Yspaddaden Pencawr. 'All the dead trees and\nbushes in the plain he burnt with his breath down to the very\nground.'[70] The lane leading from Mousiad to Lisworney-Crossways, is\nreported to have been haunted by a Gwyllgi of the most terrible\naspect. Mr. Jenkin, a worthy farmer living near there, was one night\nreturning home from market on a young mare, when suddenly the animal\nshied, reared, tumbled the farmer off, and bolted for home. Old\nAnthony the farm-servant, found her standing trembling by the\nbarn-door, and well knowing the lane she had come through suspected\nshe had seen the Gwyllgi. He and the other servants of the farm all\nwent down the road, and there in the haunted lane they found the\nfarmer, on his back in the mud. Being questioned, the farmer protested\nit was the Gwyllgi and nothing less, that had made all this trouble,\nand his nerves were so shaken by the shock that he had to be supported\non either side to get him home, slipping and staggering in the mud in\ntruly dreadful fashion all the way. It is the usual experience of\npeople who meet the Gwyllgi that they are so overcome with terror by\nits unearthly howl, or by the glare of its fiery eyes, that they fall\nsenseless. Old Anthony, however, used to say that he had met the\nGwyllgi without this result. As he was coming home from courting a\nyoung woman of his acquaintance (name delicately withheld, as he did\nnot marry her) late one Sunday night--or it may have been Monday\nmorning--he encountered in the haunted lane two large shining eyes,\nwhich drew nearer and nearer to him. He was dimly able to discern, in\nconnection with the gleaming eyes, what seemed a form of human shape\nabove, but with the body and limbs of a large spotted dog. He threw\nhis hat at the terrible eyes, and the hat went whisking right through\nthem, falling in the road beyond. However, the spectre disappeared,\nand the brave Anthony hurried home as fast as his shaking legs would\ncarry him.\n\nAs Mr. David Walter, of Pembrokeshire, 'a religious man, and far from\nfear and superstition,' was travelling by himself through a field\ncalled the Cot Moor, where there are two stones set up called the\nDevil's Nags, which are said to be haunted, he was suddenly seized and\nthrown over a hedge. He went there another day, taking with him for\nprotection a strong fighting mastiff dog. When he had come near the\nDevil's Nags there appeared in his path the apparition of a dog more\nterrible than any he had ever seen. In vain he tried to set his\nmastiff on; the huge beast crouched frightened by his master's feet\nand refused to attack the spectre. Whereupon his master boldly stooped\nto pick up a stone, thinking that would frighten the evil dog; but\nsuddenly a circle of fire surrounded it, which lighting up the gloom,\nshowed the white snip down the dog's nose, and his grinning teeth, and\nwhite tail. 'He then knew it was one of the infernal dogs of\nhell.'[71]\n\nRebecca Adams was 'a woman who appeared to be a true living\nexperimental Christian, beyond many,' and she lived near Laugharne\nCastle, in Carmarthenshire. One evening when she was going to\nLaugharne town on some business, her mother dissuaded her from going,\ntelling her she would be benighted, and might be terrified by some\napparition at Pant y Madog. This was a pit by the side of the lane\nleading to Laugharne, which was never known to be dry, and which was\nhaunted, as many had both seen and heard apparitions there. But the\nbold Rebecca was not to be frighted at such nonsense, and went her\nway. It was rather dark when she was returning, and she had passed by\nthe haunted pit of Pant y Madog, and was congratulating herself on\nhaving seen no ghost. Suddenly she saw a great dog coming towards her.\nWhen within about four or five yards of her it stopped, squatted on\nits haunches, 'and set up such a scream, so loud, so horrible, and so\nstrong, that she thought the earth moved under her.' Then she fell\ndown in a swoon. When she revived it was gone; and it was past\nmidnight when she got home, weak and exhausted.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[70] 'Mabinogion,' 230.\n\n[71] Jones, 'Apparitions.'\n\n\nIV.\n\nMuch stress is usually laid, in accounts of the Gwyllgi, on the terror\nwith which it inspires domestic animals. This confidence in the\nability of the brute creation to detect the presence of a spirit, is a\ncommon superstition everywhere. An American journal lately gave an\naccount of an apparition seen in Indiana, whose ghostly character was\nconsidered by the witnesses to be proven by the terror of horses which\nsaw it. They were drawing the carriage in which drove the persons to\nwhom the ghost appeared, and they shied from the road at sight of it,\nbecoming unmanageable. The spectre soon dissolved in thin air and\nvanished, when the horses instantly became tractable. In Wales it is\nthought that horses have peculiarly this 'gift' of seeing spectres.\nCarriage horses have been known to display every sign of the utmost\nterror, when the occupants of the carriage could see no cause for\nfright; and in such cases a funeral is expected to pass there before\nlong, bearing to his grave some person not dead at the time of the\nhorses' fright. These phenomena are certainly extremely interesting,\nand well calculated to 'bid us pause,' though not, perhaps, for the\npurpose of considering whether a horse's eye can receive an image\nwhich the human retina fails to accept. Much weight will not be given\nto the fright of the lower animals, I fear, by any thoughtful person\nwho has witnessed the terror of a horse at sight of a flapping shirt\non a clothes-line, or that hideous monster a railway engine. Andrew\nJackson Davis has a theory that we all bear about us an atmosphere,\npleasing or repulsive, which can be detected by horses, dogs, and\nspiritual 'mediums;' this _aura_, being spiritual, surrounds us\nwithout our will or wish, goes where we go, but does not die when we\ndie, and is the means by which a bloodhound tracks a slave, or a fond\ndog finds its master. Without denying the possibility of this theory,\nI must record that in my observation a dog has been found to smell his\nmaster most successfully when that master was most in need of a bath\nand a change of linen. Also, that when the master leaves off his coat\nhe clearly leaves--if a dog's conduct be evidence--a part of his\n_aura_ with it. More worthy of serious attention is August Comte's\nsuggestion that dogs and some other animals are perhaps capable of\nforming fetichistic notions. That dogs accredit inanimate objects with\nvolition, to a certain extent, I am quite convinced. The thing which\nconstitutes knowledge, in dogs as in human beings--that is to say,\nthought, organised by experience--corrects this tendency in animals as\nthey grow older, precisely as it corrects the false conclusions of\nchildren, though never to the same extent. That a dog can think, I\nsuppose no well-informed person doubts in these days.\n\n\nV.\n\nThe Gwyllgi finds its counterpart in the Mauthe Doog of the Isle of\nMan and the Shock of the Norfolk coast. It there comes up out of the\nsea and travels about in the lanes at night. To meet it is a sign of\ntrouble and death. The Gwyllgi also is confined to sea-coast parishes\nmainly, and although not classed among death-omens, to look on it is\ndeemed dangerous. The hunting dogs, Cwn Annwn, or dogs of hell, whose\nhabitat is the sky overhead, have also other attributes which\ndistinguish them clearly from the Gwyllgi. They are death-omens,\nancient of lineage and still encountered. The Gwyllgi, while\nsuggesting some interesting comparisons with the old mythology,\nappears to have lost vogue since smuggling ceased to be profitable.\n\n\nVI.\n\nConfined to the coast, too, are those stories of phantom ships and\nphantom islands which, too familiar to merit illustration here, have\ntheir origin in the mirage. That they also touch the ancient mythology\nis undoubted; but their source in the mirage is probably true of the\nprimeval belief as well as of the medieval, and that of our time. The\nChinese also have the mirage, but not its scientific explanation, and\nhence of course their belief in its supernatural character is\nundisturbed.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\n    Grotesque Ghosts--The Phantom Horseman--Gigantic\n    Spirits--The Black Ghost of Ffynon yr Yspryd--Black Men in\n    the Mabinogion--Whirling Ghosts--Antic Spirits--The Tridoll\n    Valley Ghost--Resemblance to Modern Spiritualistic\n    Performances--Household Fairies.\n\n\nI.\n\nThe grotesque ghosts of Welsh folk-lore are often most diverting\nacquaintances. They are ghosts on horseback, or with coloured faces,\nor of huge and monstrous form; or they indulge in strange gymnastics,\nin whirling, throwing stones, or whistling. A phantom horseman,\nencountered by the Rev. John Jones, of Holywell, in Flintshire, as\ndescribed by himself, is worthy of Heinrich Zschokke. This Mr. Jones\nwas a preacher of extraordinary power, renowned and respected\nthroughout Wales. He was one day travelling alone on horseback from\nBala, in Merionethshire, to Machynlleth, Montgomeryshire, and as he\napproached a forest which lay in his way he was dogged by a\nmurderous-looking man carrying a sharp sickle. The minister felt sure\nthis man meditated an attack on his life, from his conduct in running\ncrouched along behind hedges, and from his having met the man at the\nvillage inn of Llanuwchllyn, where the minister exposed his watch and\npurse. Presently he saw the man conceal himself at a place where the\nhedge was thick, and where a gate crossed the road; and feeling sure\nthat here he should be attacked, he stopped his horse to reflect on\nthe situation. No house was in sight, and the road was hidden by high\nhedges on either side. Should he turn back? 'In despair, rather than\nin a spirit of humble trust and confidence,' says the good man, 'I\nbowed my head, and offered up a silent prayer. At this juncture my\nhorse, growing impatient of the delay, started off. I clutched the\nreins, which I had let fall on his neck, when, happening to turn my\neyes, I saw, to my utter astonishment, that I was no longer alone:\nthere, by my side, I beheld a horseman in a dark dress, mounted on a\nwhite steed. In intense amazement I gazed upon him. Where could he\nhave come from? He appeared as suddenly as if he had sprung from the\nearth; he must have been riding behind and have overtaken me, and yet\nI had not heard the slightest sound. It was mysterious, inexplicable;\nbut joy overcame my feelings of wonder, and I began at once to address\nmy companion. I asked him if he had seen any one, and then described\nto him what had taken place, and how relieved I felt by his sudden\nappearance. He made no reply, and on looking at his face he seemed\npaying but slight attention to my words, but continued intently gazing\nin the direction of the gate, now about a quarter of a mile ahead. I\nfollowed his gaze, and saw the reaper emerge from his concealment and\nrun across a field to our left, resheathing his sickle as he hurried\nalong. He had evidently seen that I was no longer alone, and had\nrelinquished his intended attempt.' Seeking to converse with the\nmysterious horseman, the minister found the phantom was speechless. In\nvain he addressed it in both Welsh and English; not a word did it\nutter, save that once the minister thought it said 'Amen,' to a pious\nremark. Suddenly it was gone. 'The mysterious horseman was gone; he\nwas not to be seen; he had disappeared as mysteriously as he had\ncome. What could have become of him? He could not have gone through\nthe gate, nor have made his horse leap the high hedges, which on both\nsides shut in the road. Where was he? had I been dreaming? was it an\napparition--a spectre, which had been riding by my side for the last\nten minutes? was it but a creature of my imagination? I tried hard to\nconvince myself that this was the case; but why had the reaper\nresheathed his murderous-looking sickle and fled? And then a feeling\nof profound awe began to creep over my soul. I remembered the singular\nway of his first appearance, his long silence, and the single word to\nwhich he had given utterance after I had mentioned the name of the\nLord; the single occasion on which I had done so. What could I then\nbelieve but that ... in the mysterious horseman I had a special\ninterference of Providence, by which I was delivered from a position\nof extreme danger?'\n\n\nII.\n\nOf gigantic ghosts there are many examples which are very grotesque\nindeed. Such was the apparition which met Edward Frank, a young man\nwho lived in the parish of Llantarnam. As he was coming home one night\nhe heard something walking towards him, but at first could see\nnothing. Suddenly his way was barred by a tall dismal object which\nstood in the path before him. It was the ghost of a marvellous thin\nman, whose head was so high above the observer's line of vision that\nhe nearly fell over backward in his efforts to gaze at it. His knees\nknocked together and his heart sank. With great difficulty he gasped\nforth, 'In the name of God what is here? Turn out of my way or I will\nstrike thee!' The giant ghost then disappeared, and the frightened\nEdward, seeing a cow not far off, went towards her to lean on her,\nwhich the cow stood still and permitted him to do. The naivete of this\nconclusion is convincing.\n\nEqually prodigious was the spectre seen by Thomas Miles Harry, of the\nparish of Aberystruth. He was coming home by night from Abergavenny,\nwhen his horse took fright at something which it saw, but which its\nmaster could not see. Very much terrified, the latter hastened to guide\nthe animal into an adjoining yard, and dismount; whereupon he saw the\napparition of a gigantic woman. She was so prodigiously tall, according\nto the account of the horrified Harry, that she was fully half as high\nas the tall beech trees on the other side of the road; and he hastened\nto hide from his eyes the awful sight, by running into the house, where\nthey listened open-mouthed to his tale. Concerning this Mr. Harry we\nare assured that he was of an affable disposition, innocent and\nharmless, and the grandfather of that eminent and famous preacher of\nthe Gospel, Thomas Lewis, of Llanharan, in Glamorganshire.[72] The same\nnarrator relates that Anne, the daughter of Herbert Jenkins, of the\nparish of Trefethin, 'a young woman well disposed to what is good,' was\ngoing one evening to milk the cows by Rhiw-newith, when as she passed\nthrough a wood she saw a horrible black man standing by a holly tree.\nShe had with her a dog, which saw it also, and ran towards it to bark\nat it, upon which it stretched out a long black tongue, and the dog ran\naffrighted back to the young woman, crawling and cringing about her\nfeet for fear. She was in great terror at all this, but had the courage\nstill to go on after the cows, which had strayed into another field.\nShe drove them back to their own field, and in passing the holly-tree\navoided looking that way for fear of seeing the black man again.\nHowever, after she had got safely by she looked back, and saw the\nmonster once more, 'very big in the middle and narrow at both ends,'\nand as it walked away the ground seemed to tremble under its heavy\ntread. It went towards a spring in that field called Ffynon yr Yspryd,\n(the Fountain of the Spirit,) where ghosts had been seen before, and\ncrossing over the stile into the common way, it whistled so loud and\nstrong that the narrow valley echoed and re-echoed with the prodigious\nsound. Then it vanished, much to the young woman's relief.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[72] Jones, 'Apparitions.'\n\n\nIII.\n\nThat giants should appear in the Welsh spirit-land will surprise no\none, but the apparition of black men is more unique. The Mabinogion,\nhowever, are full of black men, usually giants, always terrible to\nencounter. The black man whom Peredur slew had but one eye, having\nlost the other in fighting with the black serpent of the Carn. 'There\nis a mound, which is called the Mound of Mourning; and on the mound\nthere is a carn, and in the carn there is a serpent, and on the tail\nof the serpent there is a stone, and the virtues of the stone are\nsuch, that whosoever should hold it in one hand, in the other he will\nhave as much gold as he may desire. And in fighting with this serpent\nwas it that I lost my eye.'[73] In the 'Lady of the Fountain' mabinogi\nthe same character appears: 'a black man ... not smaller in size than\ntwo of the men of this world,' and with 'one eye in the middle of his\nforehead.'[74] And there are other black men in other Mabinogion,\nindicating the extremely ancient lineage of the spectre seen by Anne\nJenkins at the Fountain of the Spirit. Whatever Anglo-Saxon scoffers\nmay say of Welsh pedigrees of mere flesh and blood, the antiquity of\nits spectral hordes may not be disputed. The black giant of Sindbad\nthe Sailor and the monster woodward of Cynan alike descend from the\nPolyphemus blinded by Odysseus.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[73] 'Mabinogion,' 106.\n\n[74] Ibid., 6.\n\n\nIV.\n\nAnother grotesque Welsh goblin goes whirling through the world. Three\nexamples are given by the Prophet Jones. _First:_ Lewis Thomas, the\nfather of the Rev. Thomas Lewis, was on his return from a journey, and\nin passing through a field near Bedwellty, saw this dreadful\napparition, to wit, the spectre of a man walking or whirling along on\nits hands and feet; at sight of which Lewis Thomas felt his hair to\nmove on his head; his heart panted and beat violently, 'his body\ntrembled, and he felt not his clothes about him,' _Second:_ John\nJenkins, a poor man, who lived near Abertillery, hanged himself in a\nhay-loft. His sister soon after came upon his dead body there hanging,\nand screamed loudly. Jeremiah James, who lived in Abertillery House,\nhearing the scream, looked in that direction and saw the 'resemblance\nof a man' coming from the hay-loft 'and violently turning upwards and\ndownwards topsy turvy' towards the river, 'which was a dreadful sight\nto a serious godly man.' _Third:_ Thomas Andrew, living at a place\ncalled The Farm, in the parish of Lanhiddel, coming home late at night\nsaw a whirling goblin on all fours by the side of a wall, which fell\nto scraping the ground and wagging its head, 'looking aside one way\nand the other,' making at the same time a horrible mowing noise; at\nwhich Thomas Andrew 'was terribly frightened.'\n\n\nV.\n\nThe antics of these and similar inhabitants of the Cambrian\nspirit-world at times outdo the most absurd capers of modern\nspiritualism. At the house of a certain farmer in the parish of\nLlanllechid, in Carnarvonshire, there was great disturbance by a\nspirit which threw stones into the house, and from one room to\nanother, which hit and hurt the people who lived there. The stones\nwere of various sizes, the largest weighing twenty-seven pounds. Most\nof them were river stones, from the stream which runs hard by. Some\nclergymen came from Bangor and read prayers in the house, to drive the\nspirit away, but their faith was not strong enough, and stones were\nthrown at them, so that they retired from the contest. The family\nfinally had to abandon the house.\n\nOn the farm of Edward Roberts, in the parish of Llangunllo, in\nRadnorshire, there was a spirit whose antics were somewhat remarkable.\nAs the servant-man was threshing, the threshel was taken out of his\nhand and thrown upon the hay-loft. At first he did not mind this so\nmuch, but when the trick had been repeated three or four times he\nbecame concerned about it, and went into the house to tell of it. The\nmaster of the house was away, but the wife and the maid-servant\nlaughed at the man, and merrily said they would go to the barn to\nprotect him. So they went out there and sat, the one to knit and the\nother to wind yarn. They were not there long before their things were\ntaken from their hands and tumbled about the barn. On returning to the\nhouse, they perceived the dishes on the shelves move to and fro, and\nsome were thrown on to the stone floor and broken. That night there\nwas a terrible clattering among the dishes, and next morning they\ncould scarcely tread without stepping on the wrecks of crockery which\nlay about. This pleasant experience was often repeated. Neighbours\ncame to see. People even came from far to satisfy their\ncuriosity--some from so far as Knighton; and one who came from\nKnighton to read prayers for the exorcising of the spirit, had the\nbook taken out of his hand and thrown upstairs. Stones were often cast\nat the people, and once iron was projected from the chimney at them.\nAt last the spirit set the house on fire, and nothing could quench it;\nthe house was burnt down: nothing but the walls and the two chimneys\nstood, long after, to greet the eyes of people who passed to and from\nKnighton market.\n\n\nVI.\n\nA spirit which haunted the house of William Thomas, in Tridoll Valley,\nGlamorganshire, used to hit the maid-servant on the side of her head,\nas it were with a cushion, when she was coming down the stairs. 'One\ntime she brought a marment of water into the house,' and the water was\nthrown over her person. Another time there came so great an abundance\nof pilchards in the sea, that the people could scarcely devour them,\nand the maid asked leave of her master to go and fetch some of them.\n'No,' said he, being a very just man, 'the pilchards are sent for the\nuse of poor people; we do not want them.' But the maid was very fond\nof pilchards, and so she went without leave, and brought some to the\nhouse. After giving a turn about the house, she went to look for her\nfish, and found them thrown out upon the dunghill. 'Well,' said her\nmaster, 'did not I tell thee not to go?' Once a pot of meat was on\nthe fire, and when they took it off they found both meat and broth\ngone, none knew where, and the pot as empty as their own bellies.\nSometimes the clasped Bible would be thrown whisking by their heads;\nand 'so it would do with the gads of the steller, and once it struck\none of them against the screen where a person then sat, and the mark\nof it still to be seen in the hard board.' Once the china dishes were\nthrown off the shelf, and not one broke. 'It was a great business with\nthis light-hating spirit to throw an old lanthorn about the house\nwithout breaking it.' When the maid went a-milking to the barn, the\nbarn-door would be suddenly shut upon her as she was milking the cow;\nthen when she rose up the spirit began to turn the door backwards and\nforwards with an idle ringing noise. Once it tried to make trouble\nbetween the mistress and the maid by strewing charcoal ashes on the\nmilk. When William Evans, a neighbour, went there to pray, as he knelt\nby the bedside, it struck the bed such a bang with a trencher that it\nmade a report like a gun, so that both the bed and the room shook\nperceptibly. On another occasion, it made a sudden loud noise, which\nmade the master think his house was falling down, and he was\nprodigiously terrified; it never after that made so loud a noise.\n\nThe Rev. R. Tibbet, a dissenting minister from Montgomeryshire, was\none night sleeping in the house, with another person in the bed with\nhim; and they had a tussle with the Tridoll spirit for possession of\nthe bed-clothes. By praying and pulling with equal energy, the parson\nbeat the spirit, and kept the bed-clothes. But the spirit, apparently\nangered by this failure, struck the bed with the cawnen (a vessel to\nhold grain) such a blow that the bed was knocked out of its place.\nThen they lit a light and the spirit left them alone. It was a\nfavourite diversion with this goblin to hover about William Thomas\nwhen he was shaving, and occasionally cuff him on the side of his\nhead--the consequence being that the persecuted farmer shaved himself\nby fits and starts, in a very unsatisfactory manner, and in a most\nuncomfortable state of mind. For about two years it troubled the whole\nof that family, during which period it had intervals of quiet lasting\nfor a fortnight or three weeks. Once it endeavoured to hinder them\nfrom going to church, by hiding the bunch of keys, on the Lord's day,\nso that for all their searching they could not find them. The good man\nof the house bade them not to yield to the devil, and as they were\nloth to appear in their old clothes at meeting, they were about to\nbreak the locks; but first concluded to kneel in prayer, and so did.\nAfter their prayers they found the keys where they used to be, but\nwhere they could not find them before. One night the spirit divided\nthe books among the members of the family, after they had gone to bed.\nTo the man of the house it gave the Bible, to the woman of the house\n'Allen's Sure Guide,' and upon the bed of the maid-servant (whom it\nwas specially fond of plaguing) it piled a lot of English books, which\nlanguage she did not understand. The maid was heartily afraid of the\nspirit, and used to fall on her knees and go to praying with\nchattering teeth, at all hours of the day or night; and prayer this\nspirit could not abide. When the maid would go about in the night with\na candle, the light thereof would diminish, grow feeble as if in\ndampness, and finally go out. The result was the maid was generally\nexcused from making journeys into cellar or garret after dark, very\nmuch to her satisfaction.\n\nParticularly did this frisky Tridoll spirit trouble the maid-servant\nafter she had gone to bed--in winter hauling the bed-clothes off her;\nin summer piling more on her. Now there was a young man, a first\ncousin to William Thomas, who could not be got to believe there was a\nspirit at his kinsman's house, and said the family were only making\ntricks with one another, 'and very strong he was, a hero of an\nunbeliever, like many of his brethren in infidelity.' One night\nWilliam Thomas and his wife went to a neighbour's wake, and left the\nhouse in charge of the doubting cousin, who searched the place all\nover, and then went to bed there; and no spirit came to disturb him.\nThis made him stronger than ever in his unbelief. But soon after he\nslept there again, when they were all there, and before going to bed\nhe said aloud to the maid, 'If anything comes to disturb thee, Ally,\ncall upon me, as I lie in the next room to you.' During the night the\nmaid cried out that the spirit was pulling the clothes off her bed,\nand the doubting cousin awoke, jumped out of bed, and ran to catch the\nperson he believed to be playing tricks with the maid. But there was\nno creature visible, although there rained upon his doubting head a\nseries of cuffs, and about his person a fusillade of kicks, which\nthrust the unbelief quite out of him, so that he doubted no more. The\ndeparture of this spirit came about thus: William Thomas being in bed\nwith his wife, heard a voice calling him. He awaked his wife, and\nrising on his elbow said to the invisible spirit, 'In the name of God\nwhat seekest thou in my house? Hast thou anything to say to me?' The\nspirit answered, 'I have,' and desired him to remove certain things\nout of a place where they had been mislaid. 'Satan,' answered William\nThomas, in a candid manner, 'I'll do nothing thou biddest me; I\ncommand thee, in the name of God, to depart from my house.' And it\nobeyed.\n\n\nVII.\n\nThis long and circumstantial account, which I have gathered from\ndifferent sources, but mainly from the two books of the Prophet Jones,\nwill impress the general reader with its resemblance, in many\nrespects, to modern newspaper ghost stories. The throwing about of\ndishes, books, keys, etc.; its raps and touches of the person; its\nmaking of loud noises by banging down metal objects; all these antics\nare the tricks of contemporaneous spiritualism. But this spectre is of\na date when our spiritualism was quite unknown. The same is true of\nthe spirit which threw stones, another modern spiritualistic\naccomplishment.[75] The spiritualists will argue from all this that\ntheir belief is substantiated, not by any means that it is shaken. The\ndoubter will conclude that there were clever tricksters in humble\nWelsh communities some time before the American city of Rochester had\nproduced its 'mediums.'\n\nThe student of comparative folk-lore, in reading these accounts,\nwill be equally impressed with their resemblance to phenomena noted\nin many other lands. The conclusion is irresistible that we here\nencounter but another form of the fairy which goes in Wales by the\nname of the Bwbach, and in England is called the Hobgoblin, in\nDenmark the Nis, in Scotland the Brownie. Also, the resemblance is\nstrong in all stories of this class to certain of the German Kobolds.\nIn several of these accounts of spirits in Wales appear the leading\nparticulars of the Kobold Hinzelmann, as condensed by Grimm from\nFeldman's long narrative.[76] There is also a close correspondence to\ncertain ghost stories found in China. In the story of Woo, from the\n'Che-wan-luk,'[77] appear details much like those in Hinzelmann, and\nequally resembling Welsh particulars, either in the stories given\nabove, or those which follow. But we are now drawn so near to the\ndivision of Familiar Spirits that we may as well enter it at once.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[75] For the sake of comparison, I give the latest American case which\ncomes under my notice. The scene is Akron, a bustling town in the\nState of Ohio; the time October, 1878. 'Mr. and Mrs. Michael Metzler,\nmiddle-aged Germans, with their little daughter, ten years of age, and\nMrs. Knoss, Metzler's mother-in-law, recently moved to a brick house\nin the suburbs known as Hell's Half Acre. The house is a good,\nsubstantial building, situated in a somewhat open space, and\nsurrounded by a lonesome deserted air. A few days after they had\nmoved, they were disturbed by sharp rappings all over the house,\nproduced by small stones or pebbles thrown against the window panes.\nDifferent members of the family were hit by these stones coming to and\ngoing from the house. Other persons were hit by them, the stones\nvarying in size from a pea to a hen's egg. Mrs. Metzler said that when\nshe went after the cow in the evening, she could hear these stones\nwhistling around her head. Mr. and Mrs. Metzler, who are devout\nCatholics, had Father Brown come to the house to exorcise the spirits\nwhich were tormenting them. The reverend father, in the midst of his\nexercises, was struck by a stone, and so dismayed thereby that he went\nhome in despair.' (Newspaper account.)\n\n[76] 'Deutsche Sagen,' i. 103.\n\n[77] Dennys, 'Folk-Lore of China,' 86.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\n    Familiar Spirits--The Famous Sprite of Trwyn Farm--Was it a\n    Fairy?--The Familiar Spirits of Magicians--Sir David Llwyd's\n    Demon--Familiar Spirits in Female Form--The Legend of the\n    Lady of the Wood--The Devil as a Familiar Spirit--His\n    Disguises in this Character--Summoning and Exorcising\n    Familiars--Jenkin the Pembrokeshire Schoolmaster--The\n    Terrible Tailor of Glanbran.\n\n\nI.\n\nInnumerable are the Welsh stories of familiar spirits. Sometimes these\nare spectres of the sort whose antics we have just been observing.\nMore often they are confessedly demons, things of evil. In numberless\ncases it is no less a personage than the diawl himself who makes his\nappearance in the guise of a familiar spirit. The familiar spirit\nwhich takes up its abode in the household is, as we have seen, a\npranksome goblin. Its personal appearance--or rather its\ninvisibility--is the saving circumstance which prevents it from being\ndeemed a fairy. The familiar spirit which haunted the house of Job\nJohn Harry, at the Trwyn Farm, in the parish of Mynyddyslwyn, was a\nstone-thrower, a stroker of persons, etc., but could not be seen. It\nis famous in Wales under the cognomen of Pwca'r Trwyn, and is referred\nto in my account of the Ellylldan.[78] The tenants at present residing\non the Trwyn Farm are strangers who have recently invaded the home of\nthis ancestral spook, but I was able to glean abundant information\nconcerning it from people thereabout. It made a home of Mr. Harry's\nhouse some time in the last century, for a period beginning some days\nbefore Christmas, and ending with Easter Wednesday, on which day it\ndeparted. During this time it spoke, and did many remarkable things,\nbut was always invisible. It began at first to make its presence known\nby knocking at the outer door in the night; but when persons went to\nopen the door there was no one there. This continued for some time,\nmuch to the perplexity of the door-openers. At last one night it spoke\nto the one who opened the door, and the family were in consequence\nmuch terrified. Some of the neighbours, hearing these tales, came to\nwatch with the family; and Thomas Evans foolishly brought a gun with\nhim, 'to shoot the spirit,' as he said. But as Job John Harry was\ncoming home that night from a journey, the familiar spirit met him in\nthe lane and said, 'There is a man come to your house to shoot me, but\nthou shalt see how I will beat him.' So Job went on to the house, and\nimmediately stones were thrown at the unbelieving Thomas who had\nbrought the gun, stones from which he received severe blows. The\ncompany tried to defend him from the stones, which did strike and hurt\nhim, and no other person; but their efforts were in vain. The result\nwas, that Thomas Evans took his gun and ran home as fast as his legs\nwould carry him, and never again engaged in an enterprise of that\nsort.\n\nAs this familiar spirit got better acquainted with its quarters, it\nbecame more talkative, and used often to speak from out of an oven by\nthe hearth's side. It also took to making music o' nights with Job's\nfiddle. One night as Job was going to bed, the familiar spirit gave\nhim a gentle stroke on the toe. 'Thou art curious in smiting,' said\nJob. 'I can smite thee where I please,' replied the spirit. As time\npassed on the family became accustomed to their ghostly visitor, and\nseeing it never did them any harm, but on the contrary was a source of\nrecreation to them, they used to boldly speak to it, and indulge in\nentertaining conversation. One old man, a neighbour, more bold than\nwise, hearing the spirit just by his side, but being unable to see it,\nthreatened to stick it with his knife. 'Thou fool,' quoth the spirit,\n'how canst thou stick what thou canst not see with thine eyes?' When\nquestioned about its antecedents, the spirit said, 'I came from Pwll y\nGasseg' (Mare's Pit, a place in the adjacent mountain), 'and I knew ye\nall before I came hither.' The wife of Morris Roberts desired one of\nthe family to ask the spirit who it was that killed William Reilly the\nScotchman; which being done, the spirit said, 'It was Blanch y Byd who\nbade thee ask that question;' and Blanch y Byd (Worldly Blanche) was\nMorris Roberts' wife ever after called. On Easter Wednesday the spirit\ndeparted, saying, 'Dos yn iach, Job,' (fare thee well, Job,) and Job\nasked the spirit, 'Where goest thou?' The reply was, 'Where God\npleases.'[79]\n\nThere are other accounts of this Trwyn sprite which credit it to a\ntime long anterior to last century; but all are consistent in this,\nthat the goblin is always invisible. The sole exception to this rule\nis the legend about its having once shown a white hand to some girls\nin the kitchen, thrusting it through the floor of its room overhead\nfor that purpose. Now invisibility is a violation of fairy traditions,\nwhile ghosts are very often invisible--these rapping and\nstone-throwing ghosts, always. It might be urged that this spirit was\na Bwbach, if a fairy at all, seeing that it kept pretty closely to the\nhouse; but on the whole I choose to class it among the inhabitants of\nthe spirit-world; and really, the student of folk-lore must classify\nhis materials distinctly in some understandable fashion, or go daft.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[78] Supra, p. 21.\n\n[79] Let me recommend the scene of this story to tourists. It is a\nmost romantic spot, on the top of a mountain, a glorious tramp from\nCrumlyn, returning by another road to Abercarne. Wheels cannot go\nthere, though a sure-footed horse might bear one safely up. The\nancient farm-house is one of the quaintest in Wales, and must be\nhundreds of years old; and its front porch looks out over a ravine\nhardly less grand and lonely than a Californian gulch.\n\n\nII.\n\nThe sort of familiar spirit employed by magicians in the eighteenth\nand preceding centuries was distinctly a demon. The spirit of this\nclass which was controlled by Sir David Llwyd is celebrated in Wales.\nThis Sir David was a famous dealer in the black art, who lived in\nCardiganshire. He was a physician, and at one time a curate; but being\nknown to deal in the magic art, he was turned out of the curacy, and\nobliged to live by practising physic. It was thought he learned the\nmagic art in Oxford. 'It was this man's great wickedness,' says the\nProphet Jones, 'to make use of a familiar spirit.... The bishop did\nwell in turning him out of the sacred office, though he was no\nill-tempered man, for how unfit was such a man to read the sacred\nScripture! With what conscience could he ask the sponsors in baptism\nto undertake for the child to renounce the world, the flesh and the\ndevil, who himself was familiar with one of the spirits of\ndarkness?... Of this Sir David I have heard much, but chiefly depend\nupon what was told to me by the Rev. Mr. Thomas Lewis, the curate of\nLanddw and Tolachdy, an excellent preacher of the gospel; and not\nsufficiently esteemed by his people, (which likely will bring a\njudgment on them in time to come.) Mr. Lewis knew the young woman who\nhad been Sir David's maid servant, and the house where he lived.' His\nfamiliar spirit he kept locked up in a book. Once while he was in\nRadnorshire, in going from one house to another he accidentally left\nthis book behind him, and sent his boy back to fetch it. The boy,\nbeing of an inquisitive turn of mind, opened the book--a thing his\nmaster had expressly charged him not to do--and the familiar spirit\nimmediately demanded to be set at work. The boy, though very much\nalarmed, had the wit to answer, 'Tafl gerrig o'r afon,' (throw stones\nout of the river,) which the spirit immediately did, so that the air\nwas for a time full of flying stones, and the boy was fain to skip\nabout in a surprisingly active manner in order to dodge the same.\nAfter a while, having thrown up a great quantity of stones out of the\nriver, (the Wye,) the spirit again, with the pertinacity of its kind,\nasked for something to do; whereupon the boy bade it throw the stones\nback again, which it did. Sir David having waited a long time for the\nboy to return, began to suspect that things had gone wrong, and so\nhastened back after him, and commanded the familiar spirit again into\nhis book.\n\n\nIII.\n\nFamiliar spirits of this class are not always invisible; and they can\nassume such forms as may be necessary to serve their purposes. A\nfavourite shape with them is that of a young and lovely woman.\nComparisons are here suggested with the water-maidens, and other like\nforms of this fancy; but they need not be pursued. It is necessary for\nthe student of phantoms to constantly remind himself of the\nomnipresent danger of being enticed too far afield, unless he keep\nsomewhat sternly to the path he has marked out. How ancient is the\nnotion of a familiar spirit in female form, may be seen from accounts\nwhich are given by Giraldus and other old writers. Near Caerleon,\n(Monmouthshire,) in the twelfth century, Giraldus tells us[80] there\nlived 'a Welshman named Melerius, who by the following means acquired\nthe knowledge of future events and the occult sciences: Having on a\ncertain night met a damsel whom he loved, in a pleasant and convenient\nplace, while he was indulging in her embraces, instead of a beautiful\ngirl he found in his arms a hairy, rough and hideous creature, the\nsight of which deprived him of his senses; and after remaining many\nyears in this condition he was restored to health in the church of St.\nDavid's, through the merits of its saints. But having always had an\nextraordinary familiarity with unclean spirits, by seeing them,\nknowing them, talking with them, and calling each by his proper name,\nhe was enabled through their assistance to foretell future events; he\nwas indeed often deceived (as they are) with respect to circumstances\nat a great distance; but was less mistaken in affairs which were\nlikely to happen soon, or within the space of a year. They appeared to\nhim on foot, equipped as hunters, with horns suspended from their\nnecks, and truly as hunters not of animals but of souls; he\nparticularly met them near monasteries and religious places; for where\nrebellion exists there is the greatest need of armies and strength. He\nknew when any one spoke falsely in his presence, for he saw the devil\nas it were leaping and exulting upon the tongue of the liar; and if he\nlooked into a book faultily or falsely written, although wholly\nilliterate he would point out the place with his finger. Being\nquestioned how he could gain such knowledge, he said he was directed\nby the demon's finger to the place.' In the same connection Giraldus\nmentions a familiar spirit which haunted Lower Gwent, 'a demon\nincubus, who from his love for a certain young woman, and frequenting\nthe place where she lived, often conversed with men, and frequently\ndiscovered hidden things and future events.'\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[80] Sir R. C. Hoare's Trans., i. 105.\n\n\nIV.\n\nThe legend of the Lady of the Wood is contained in the Iolo MSS., and\nis of considerable antiquity. It is a most fascinating tale: Einion,\nthe son of Gwalchmai, 'was one fine summer morning walking in the\nwoods of Treveilir,' when 'he beheld a graceful slender lady of\nelegant growth, and delicate feature, and her complexion surpassing\nevery white and red in the morning dawn and the mountain snow, and\nevery beautiful colour in the blossoms of wood, field, and hill. And\nthen he felt in his heart an inconceivable commotion of affection, and\nhe approached her in a courteous manner, and she also approached him\nin the same manner; and he saluted her, and she returned his\nsalutation; and by these mutual salutations he perceived that his\nsociety was not disagreeable to her. He then chanced to cast his eye\nupon her foot, and he saw that she had hoofs instead of feet, and he\nbecame exceedingly dissatisfied,' as well he might. But the lady gave\nhim to understand that he must pay no attention to this trifling freak\nof nature. 'Thou must,' she said, 'follow me wheresoever I go, as long\nas I continue in my beauty.' The son of Gwalchmai thereupon asked\npermission to go and say good-bye to his wife, at least. This the lady\nagreed to; 'but,' said she, 'I shall be with thee, invisible to all\nbut thyself.' 'So he went, and the goblin went with him; and when he\nsaw Angharad, his wife, he saw her a hag like one grown old, but he\nretained the recollection of days past, and still felt extreme\naffection for her, but he was not able to loose himself from the bond\nin which he was. \"It is necessary for me,\" said he, \"to part for a\ntime, I know not how long, from thee, Angharad, and from thee, my son,\nEinion,\" and they wept together, and broke a gold ring between them;\nhe kept one half and Angharad the other, and they took their leave of\neach other, and he went with the Lady of the Wood, and knew not where;\nfor a powerful illusion was upon him, and he saw not any place, or\nperson, or object under its true and proper appearance, excepting the\nhalf of the ring alone. And after being a long time, he knew not how\nlong, with the goblin, the Lady of the Wood, he looked one morning as\nthe sun was rising upon the half of the ring, and he bethought him to\nplace it in the most precious place he could, and he resolved to put\nit under his eyelid; and as he was endeavouring to do so, he could see\na man in white apparel, and mounted on a snow-white horse, coming\ntowards him, and that person asked him what he did there; and he told\nhim that he was cherishing an afflicting remembrance of his wife\nAngharad. \"Dost thou desire to see her?\" said the man in white. \"I\ndo,\" said Einion, \"above all things, and all happiness of the world.\"\n\"If so,\" said the man in white, \"get upon this horse, behind me;\" and\nthat Einion did, and looking around he could not see any appearance of\nthe Lady of the Wood, the goblin, excepting the track of hoofs of\nmarvellous and monstrous size, as if journeying towards the north.\n\"What delusion art thou under?\" said the man in white. Then Einion\nanswered him and told everything how it occurred 'twixt him and the\ngoblin. \"Take this white staff in thy hand,\" said the man in white,\nand Einion took it. And the man in white told him to desire whatever\nhe wished for. The first thing he desired was to see the Lady of the\nWood, for he was not yet completely delivered from the illusion. And\nthen she appeared to him in size a hideous and monstrous witch, a\nthousand times more repulsive of aspect than the most frightful things\nseen upon earth. And Einion uttered a cry of terror; and the man in\nwhite cast his cloak over Einion, and in less than a twinkling Einion\nalighted as he wished on the hill of Treveilir, by his own house,\nwhere he knew scarcely any one, nor did any one know him.' The goblin\nmeantime had gone to Einion's wife, in the disguise of a richly\napparelled knight, and made love to her, pretending that her husband\nwas dead. 'And the illusion fell upon her; and seeing that she should\nbecome a noble lady, higher than any in Wales, she named a day for her\nmarriage with him. And there was a great preparation of every elegant\nand sumptuous apparel, and of meats and drinks, and of every\nhonourable guest, and every excellence of song and string, and every\npreparation of banquet and festive entertainment.' Now there was a\nbeautiful harp in Angharad's room, which the goblin knight desired\nshould be played on; 'and the harpers present, the best in Wales,\ntried to put it in tune, and were not able.' But Einion presented\nhimself at the house, and offered to play on it. Angharad, being under\nan illusion, 'saw him as an old, decrepit, withered, grey-haired man,\nstooping with age, and dressed in rags.' Einion tuned the harp, 'and\nplayed on it the air which Angharad loved. And she marvelled\nexceedingly, and asked him who he was. And he answered in song: ...\n\"Einion the golden-hearted.\" ...\n\n              \"Where hast thou been!\"\n    \"In Kent, in Gwent, in the wood, in Monmouth,\n        In Maenol, Gorwenydd;\n     And in the valley of Gwyn, the son of Nudd;\n        See, the bright gold is the token.\"\n\nAnd he gave her the ring.\n\n    \"Look not on the whitened hue of my hair,\n      Where once my aspect was spirited and bold;\n    Now gray, without disguise, where once it was yellow.\n    Never was Angharad out of my remembrance,\n      But Einion was by thee forgotten.\"'\n\nBut Angharad 'could not bring him to her recollection. Then said he to\nthe guests:\n\n    \"If I have lost her whom I loved, the fair one of polished mind,\n      The daughter of Ednyved Vychan,\n    I have not lost (so get you out!)\n      Either my bed, or my house, or my fire.\"\n\n'And upon that he placed the white staff in Angharad's hand, and\ninstantly the goblin which she had hitherto seen as a handsome and\nhonourable nobleman, appeared to her as a monster, inconceivably\nhideous; and she fainted from fear, and Einion supported her until she\nrevived. And when she opened her eyes, she saw there neither the\ngoblin, nor any of the guests, nor of the minstrels, nor anything\nwhatever except Einion, and her son, and the harp, and the house in\nits domestic arrangement, and the dinner on the table, casting its\nsavoury odour around. And they sat down to eat ... and exceeding great\nwas their enjoyment. And they saw the illusion which the demoniacal\ngoblin had cast over them.... And thus it ends.'[81]\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[81] Iolo MSS. 587, et seq.\n\n\nV.\n\nThere is hardly a goblin in the world more widely known than this\nspectre of the forest. Her story appears in the legends of very many\nlands, including China. Its ancient Grecian prototype is found in the\nOdyssey.[82]\n\nWhen it is the Diawl himself who appears in the role of the familiar\nspirit, his majesty is usually in some other form than that of a man,\nwith hoofs, horns, and tail. The orthodox form of Satan has indeed\nbeen seen in many parts of Wales, but not when doing duty as a\nfamiliar spirit. A Welsh poet of the thirteenth century mentions this\nform:\n\n    And the horned devil,\n    With sharp hoofs\n    On his heels.[83]\n\nHe is variously called cythraul, dera, diafol, all euphemisms for\ndevil, equivalent to our destroyer, evil one, adversary--as well as\nplain diawl, devil. In his character of a familiar spirit he assumes\nthe shape of a fiery ball, a donkey, a black calf, a round bowl, a\ndog, a roaring flame, a bull, a goose, and numberless others,\nincluding the imp that goes into a book. In all this he bears out the\ncharacter given him in old mythology, where he grows big or little at\npleasure, and roars in a gale as Hermes, the wind-god, howls as a dog,\nenters a walnut as in the Norse Tale, or is confined in a bottle as\nthe genie of the 'Arabian Nights.'\n\nTo that eminent nonconformist preacher, Vavasor Powell, the devil\nonce appeared in shape like a house. 'Satan ... appeared several\ntimes, and in several wayes, to me: as once like a house, stood\ndirectly in my way, with which sight I fell on my face as dead....\nAnother time, being alone in my chamber ... I perceived a strong cold\nwind to blow ... it made the hair of my flesh to stand up, and caused\nall my bones to shake; and on the suddain, I heard one walk about me,\ntramping upon the chamber floor, as if it had been some heavie big man\n... but it proved in the end to be no other than ... Satan.'[84]\n\nA black calf, which haunted a Pembrokeshire brook early in the present\ncentury, was believed to be the devil in familiar guise. It appeared\nat a certain spot near the village of Narberth--a village which has\nfigured actively in mythic story since the earliest ages of which\nthere is any record. One night two peasants caught the terrible calf\nand took it home, locking it up safely in a stable with some other\ncattle, but it had vanished when morning came.\n\nHenry Llewelyn, of Ystrad Defoc parish, Glamorganshire, was beset by\nthe devil in the shape of a round bowl. He had been sent by his\nminister (Methodist) to fetch from another parish a load of religious\nbooks--Bibles, Testaments, Watts' 'Psalms, Hymns and Songs for\nChildren'--and was coming home with the same, on horseback, by night,\nwhen he saw a living thing, round like a bowl, moving to and fro\nacross the lane. The bold Llewelyn having concluded it was the devil,\nresolved to speak to it. 'What seekest thou, thou foul thing?' he\ndemanded, adding, 'In the name of the Lord Jesus go away!' And to\nprove that it was the adversary, at these words it vanished into the\nground, leaving a sulphurous smell behind.\n\nTo William Jones, a sabbath-breaker, of Risca village, the devil\nappeared as an enormous mastiff dog, which transformed itself into a\ngreat fire and made a roaring noise like burning gorse. And to two men\nat Merthyr Tydfil, in Glamorganshire, the fiend appeared in the shape\nof a gosling. These men were one night drinking together at the Black\nLion Inn, when one dared the other to go to conjure. The challenge was\naccepted, and they went, but conducted their emprise with such drunken\nrecklessness, that the devil put out the eyes of one of them, so that\nhe was blind the rest of his days.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[82] In his fascinating essay on the 'Folk-Lore of France,' in the\n'Folk-Lore Record' for 1878 (published by the Folk-Lore Society) Mr.\nA. Lang says: 'So widespread is this superstition, that a friend of\nmine declares he has met with it among the savages of New Caledonia,\nand has known a native who actually died, as he himself said he would,\nafter meeting one of the fairy women of the wild wood.'\n\n[83] Gruffydd ab yr Ynad Coch.\n\n[84] 'The Life and Death of Mr. Vavasor Powell,' p. 8. (A curious\nseventeenth century book, no two existing copies of which appear to be\nalike. I here cite from that in the library of the Marquis of Bute,\nthan which a more perfect copy is rarely met with.)\n\n\nVI.\n\nThe mode of summoning and of exorcising familiar spirits--in other\nwords, of laying and raising the devil--varies little the world over.\nEven in China, the magic circle is entered and incantations are\nmuttered when the fiend is summoned; and for the exorcism of devils\nthere are laws like our own--though since modern Christianity has been\nintroduced in China the most popular exorcist is the Christian\nmissionary.[85] In Wales, the popular belief is compounded of about\nequal parts of foul magic and fair Biblical text; magic chiefly for\nsummoning, the Book for exorcising.\n\nJohn Jenkin, a schoolmaster in Pembrokeshire, was a conjuror of renown\nin that part of Wales. One of his scholars who had a curiosity to see\nthe devil made bold to ask the master to assist him to that\nentertainment. 'May see him,' said the master, 'if thou hast the\ncourage for it. Still,' he added, 'I do not choose to call him till I\nhave employment for him.' So the boy waited; and not long after a man\ncame to the master saying he had lost some money, and wished to be\ntold who had stolen it. 'Now,' the master said to the scholar, 'I have\nsome business for him.' At night they went into the wood together and\ndrew a circle, which they entered, and the schoolmaster called one of\nthe spirits of evil by its name. Presently they saw a light in the\nsky, which shot like lightning down to the circle, and turned round\nabout it. The conjuror asked it who had stolen the man's money; the\nspirit did not know, and it disappeared. Then the schoolmaster called\nanother evil spirit by its name; and presently they saw the\nresemblance of a bull flying through the air towards them, so swiftly\nand fiercely as if it would go through them; and it also turned about\nthe circle. But the conjuror asked it in vain who had the stolen\nmoney. 'I must call still another,' said he. The schoolboy was now\nalmost dead with fear, and the conjuror considerately waited till he\nwas somewhat revived before calling the third spirit. But when he did\ncall, there came out of the wood a spirit dressed in white, and went\nabout the circle. 'Ah,' said the schoolmaster, 'we shall now hear\nsomething from this.' And sure enough 'this' told the conjuror (in a\nlanguage the boy could not understand) where the money was, and all\nabout it. Then it vanished in red fire; and that boy 'has never been\nwell since, the effect of the great fright still cleaving to him.'\n\nNot far from Glanbran, in Carmarthenshire, lived a tailor, who added\nto his trade as a breeches-mender the loftier, if wickeder,\nemployments of a worker in magic. A certain Mr. Gwynne, living at\nGlanbran, took it upon himself to ridicule this terrible tailor, for\nthe tailor was a little man, and Mr. Gwynne was a burly six-footer,\nwho feared nobody. 'Thou have the courage to look upon the devil!'\nsneered Gwynne; 'canst thou show him to me?' 'That I can,' said the\ntailor, his eyes flashing angrily; 'but you are not able to look at\nhim.' 'What!' roared Gwynne, 'thou able to look at him, and not I?'\n'Very well,' quoth the tailor; 'if you are able to look at him I will\nshow him to you.' It was in the day time, but the tailor went\nimmediately into a little grove of wood in a field hard by, and made a\ncircle in the usual manner. In a short time he returned to fetch the\nincredulous Mr. Gwynne, saying, 'Come with me and you shall see him.'\nThe two then crossed the field until they came to the stile by the\nwood, when suddenly the tailor cried, 'Look yonder! there it is!' And\nlooking, Mr. Gwynne saw, in the circle the tailor had drawn, 'one of\nthe fallen angels, now become a devil.' It was so horrible a sight\nthat the terrified Mr. Gwynne was never after able to describe it; but\nfrom that time forth he had a proper respect for the tailor.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[85] Dennys, 'Folk-Lore of China,' 89.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\n    The Evil Spirit in his customary Form--The stupid Medieval\n    Devil in Wales--Sion Cent--The Devil outwitted--Pacts with\n    the Fiend and their Avoidance--Sion Dafydd's Foul Pipe--The\n    Devil's Bridge and its Legends--Similar Legends in other\n    Lands--The Devil's Pulpit near Tintern--Angelic\n    Spirits--Welsh Superstitions as to pronouncing the Name of\n    the Evil Spirit--The Bardic Tradition of the Creation--The\n    Struggle between Light and Darkness and its Symbolization.\n\n\nI.\n\nThe devil has often appeared in Wales in his customary form, or with\nhis distinctive marks covered up by such clothing as mortals wear.\nThere was even a tailor in Cardiganshire who had the honour of making\na suit of clothes for his sulphuric majesty. The medieval view of this\nmalignant spirit--which makes the devil out as dull and stupid as he\nis mendacious and spiteful--still lingers in some parts. Those formal\npacts with the devil, the first traces of which are found in the\ntwelfth and thirteenth centuries, have been made in great numbers in\nWales; and tales in which the devil is outwitted by a mortal are still\npreserved with much distinctness in various localities. That the myth\nof Polyphemus reappears in all accounts of this sort, is pretty well\nagreed among students of folk-lore. Hercules and Cacus, Polyphemus and\nOdysseus, Peredur and the one-eyed monster of the Mabinogion,\nGambrinus and der Teufel, Jack the Giant-Killer, Norse Joetuns and\nArabian genii tricked and bottled; all these are deemed outgrowths of\nthe same primeval idea, to wit, the victory of the sun-god over the\nnight-fiend; and the story of Sion Cent's compact with the diawl is\ndoubtless from the same root. Certain it is that were not the devil at\ntimes gullible, he never would have been so useful as a familiar\nspirit, never could have been made so completely a slave to his mortal\nmasters. The Pope (Benedict IX.) who had seven evil spirits in a\nsugar-bottle, merely subdivided the arch-fiend in the same way the\ngenii of the old tales are subdivided--now existing as a dense and\nvisible form, again expanding to blot out the sky, and again entering\nthe narrow compass of a bottle or a nut-shell; co-existing in a\nmillion places at the same instant, yet having a single individuality.\n\n\nII.\n\nTradition relates that Sion Cent was a famous necromancer in\nMonmouthshire, who outwitted the devil, not once but many times. He\nlives in popular legend simply as a worker in magic, but in reality he\nwas a worthy minister, the Rev. John Kent, who flourished from 1420 to\n1470, and wrote several theological works in Latin. In his native\nWelsh he confined himself to poetry, and Sion Cent was his Cymric\npseudonym. Like many learned men in those days, he was accredited with\nmagical powers by the ignorant peasantry, and of his transactions with\nthe devil many stories were then invented which still survive. One\nrelates that he once served as a farmer's boy, and was set to keep the\ncrows from the corn, but preferring to go to Grosmont fair, he\nconfined the crows in an old roofless barn by a magic spell till the\nnext day, when he returned. His compact with the devil enabled him to\nbuild the bridge over the Monnow, near Grosmont, which still bears his\nname. The compact gave the devil the man's soul, as all such compacts\ndo--the stipulation being that if his body were buried either in or\nout of the church, his soul should be forfeit to the diawl. But the\nshrewd Welshman gave orders that he should be buried exactly under the\nchancel wall, so that he should lie neither in the church nor out of\nit; and the devil was made a fool of by this device. A precisely\nsimilar tradition exists concerning an old gentleman in\nCarmarthenshire.\n\n\nIII.\n\nA popular legend giving the origin of the jack-o'-lantern in Wales\ndeals with the idea of a stupid devil: A long time ago there lived on\nthe hills of Arfon an old man of the name of Sion Dafydd, who used to\nconverse much with one of the children of the bottomless pit. One\nmorning Sion was on his way to Llanfair-Fechan, carrying a flail on\nhis shoulder, for he had corn there, when whom should he meet but his\nold friend from the pit, with a bag on his back, and in it two little\ndevils like himself. After conversing for some time they began to\nquarrel, and presently were in the midst of a terrible fight. Sion\nfell to basting the devils with his flail, until the bag containing\nthe two little ones went all to pieces, and the two tumbling out, fled\nfor their lives to Rhiwgyfylchi, which village is considered to this\nday a very wicked place from this fact. Sion then went his way\nrejoicing, and did not for a long time encounter his adversary.\nEventually, however, they met, and this time Sion had his gun on his\nshoulder. 'What's that long thing you're carrying?' inquired the\ndevil. 'That's my pipe,' said Sion. Then the devil asked, 'Shall I\nhave a whiff out of it?' 'You shall,' was Sion's reply, and he placed\nthe mouth of his gun in the devil's throat and drew the trigger. Well;\nthat was the loudest report from a gun that was ever heard on this\nearth. 'Ach!--tw!--tw!' exclaimed the smoker, 'your pipe is very\nfoul,' and he disappeared in a flame. After a lapse of time, Sion met\nhim again in the guise of a gentleman, but the Welshman knew it was\nthe tempter. This time he made a bargain for which he was ever\nafterwards sorry, i.e., he sold himself to the devil for a sum down,\nbut with the understanding that whenever he could cling to something\nthe devil should not then control him. One day when Sion was busily\ngardening, the evil one snatched him away into the air without\nwarning, and Sion was about giving up all hopes of again returning to\nearth, when he thought to himself, 'I'll ask the devil one last\nfavour.' The stupid devil listened. 'All I want is an apple,' said\nSion, 'to moisten my lips a bit down below; let me go to the top of my\napple-tree, and I'll pick one.' 'Is that all?' quoth the diawl, and\nconsented. Of course Sion laid hold of the apple-tree, and hung on.\nThe devil had to leave him there. But the old reprobate was too wicked\nfor heaven, and the devil having failed to take him to the other\nplace, he was turned into a fairy, and is now the jack-o'-lantern.[86]\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[86] 'Cymru Fu,' 355 et seq.\n\n\nIV.\n\nBest known among the natural objects in various parts of Wales which\nare connected with the devil in popular lore, is the Devil's Bridge,\nin Cardiganshire. Associated with this bridge are several legends,\nwhich derive their greatest interest from their intrinsic evidences of\nan antiquity in common with the same legends in other lands. The\nguide-books of the region, like guide-books everywhere, in their\neffort to avoid being led into unwarranted statement, usually indulge\nin playfully sarcastic references to these ancient tales. They are\nmuch older, however, than the bridge itself can possibly be. The\ndevil's activity in bridge-building is a myth more ancient than the\nmedieval devil of our acquaintance. The building story of the Devil's\nBridge in Cardiganshire runs briefly thus: An old woman who had lost\nher cow spied it on the other side of the ravine, and was in great\ntrouble about it, not knowing how to get over where the animal was.\nThe devil, taking advantage of her distress, offered to throw a bridge\nover the ravine, so that she might cross and get her cow; but he\nstipulated that the first living creature to cross the bridge should\nbe his. The old woman agreed; the bridge was built; and the devil\nwaited to see her cross. She drew a crust of bread from her pocket,\nthrew it over, and her little black dog flew after it. 'The dog's\nyours, sir,' said the dame; and Satan was discomfited. In the story\ntold of the old bridge over the Main at Frankfort, a bridge-contractor\nand his troubles are substituted for the old woman and her cow;\ninstead of a black dog a live rooster appears, driven in front of him\nby the contractor. The Welsh Satan seems to have received his\ndiscomfiture good-naturedly enough; in the German tale he tears the\nfowl to pieces in his rage. In Switzerland, every reader knows the\nstory told of the devil's bridge in the St. Gothard pass. A new bridge\nhas taken the place, for public use, of the old bridge on the road to\nAndermatt, and to the dangers of the crumbling masonry are added\nsuperstitious terrors concerning the devil's power to catch any one\ncrossing after dark. The old Welsh bridge has been in like manner\nsuperseded by a modern structure; but I think no superstition like the\nlast noted is found at Hafod.\n\n\nV.\n\nThe English have a saying that the devil lives in the middle of Wales.\nThere is in every part of Wales that I have seen a custom of whitening\nthe doorsteps with chalk, and it is said to have originated in the\nbelief that his Satanic majesty could not enter a door thus protected.\nThe devil of slovenliness certainly would find difficulty in entering\na Welsh cottage if the tidiness of its doorstep is borne out in the\ninterior. But out-of-doors everywhere there are signs of the devil's\nactive habits. His flowers grow on the river-banks; his toes are\nimprinted on the rocks. Near Tintern Abbey there is a jutting crag\noverhung by gloomy branches of the yew, called the Devil's Pulpit. His\neminence used in other and wickeder days to preach atrocious morals,\nor immorals, to the white-robed Cistercian monks of the abbey, from\nthis rocky pulpit. One day the devil grew bold, and taking his tail\nunder his arm in an easy and _degagee_ manner, hobnobbed familiarly\nwith the monks, and finally proposed, just for a lark, that he should\npreach them a nice red-hot sermon from the rood-loft of the abbey. To\nthis the monks agreed, and the devil came to church in high glee. But\nfancy his profane perturbation (I had nearly written holy horror) when\nthe treacherous Cistercians proceeded to shower him with holy water.\nThe devil clapped his tail between his legs and scampered off howling,\nand never stopped till he got to Llandogo, where he leaped across the\nriver into England, leaving the prints of his talons on a stone.\n\n\nVI.\n\nWhere accounts of the devil's appearance are so numerous, it is\nperhaps somewhat surprising so little is heard of apparitions of\nangels. There are reasons for this, however, which might be enlarged\nupon. Tradition says that 'in former times' there were frequent visits\nof angels to Wales; and their rare appearance in our days is ascribed\nto the completion of revelation. One or two modern instances of\nangelic visitation are given by the Prophet Jones. There was David\nThomas, who lived at a place called the Pantau, between the towns of\nCarmarthen and Laugharne; he was 'a gifted brother, who sometimes\npreached,' in the dissenting way. One night, when he was at prayer\nalone in a room which stood apart from his house, there was suddenly a\ngreat light present, which made the light of the candle no longer\nvisible. And in that light appeared a band of angels, like children,\nvery beautiful in bright clothing, singing in Welsh these words:\n\n    Pa hyd? Pa hyd? Dychwelwch feibion Adda!\n    Pa hyd? Pa hyd yr erlidiwch y Cristnogion duwiol?\n\n    How long? How long? Return ye sons of Adam!\n    How long? How long will ye persecute the godly Christians?\n\nAfter a time they departed; reappeared; departed again; the great\nlight faded; and the light of Mr. Thomas's candle was once more\nvisible on his table. There was also Rees David, a man of more than\ncommon piety, who lived in Carmarthenshire, near Whitlands. At the\ntime of his death, it was testified by 'several religious persons who\nwere in the room,' that there was heard, by them and by the dying man,\nthe singing of angels. It drew nearer and nearer as his death-struggle\ngrew imminent, and after his death they 'heard the pleasant\nincomparable singing gradually depart, until it was out of hearing.'\n\nThat the dying do see something more, in the last moment of expiring\nnature, than it is given to living eyes to see, is a cherished belief\nby numberless Christian men and women, whom to suspect of\nsuperstitious credulity were to grossly offend. This belief is based\non exclamations uttered by the dying, while with fixed and staring\neyes they appeared to gaze intently at some object not visible to the\nbystanders. But that the bystanders also saw, or heard, voice or\nvision from the Unknown, is not often pretended.\n\n\nVII.\n\nReference has been made to the euphemisms in use among all peoples to\navoid pronouncing the name of the devil. That many good folk still\nconsider the word devil, lightly spoken, a profane utterance only\nsecond to a similar utterance of God's name, is a curious survival of\nold superstitions. No prohibition of this sort attaches to the words\ndemon, fiend, etc., nor to such euphemisms, common in both Welsh and\nEnglish, as the adversary, the evil one, etc. It is an old custom in\nNorth Wales to spit at the name of the devil, even when so innocently\nused as in pronouncing the name of the Devil's Bridge. The peasantry\nprefer to call the bridge 'Pont y Gwr Drwg,' the Bridge of the Wicked\nOne; and spitting and wiping off the tongue are deemed a necessary\nprecaution after saying devil, diafol, or diawl. The phrase 'I hope to\ngoodness,' so common in Wales and elsewhere, is clearly but another\neuphemism for God; the goodness meant is the Divine beneficence.\n'Goodness' sake' is but a contraction of 'For God's sake!' The Hebrew\ntetragrammaton which was invested with such terror, as representing\nthe great 'I am,' finds an explanation, according to the ideas of\nWelsh scholars, in the Bardic traditions. These relate that, by the\nutterance of His Name, God created this world; the Name being\nrepresented by the symbol /|\\, three lines which typify the focusing\nof the rising sun's rays at the equinoxes and solstices. The first ray\nis the Creator, the second the Preserver, and the third the Destroyer;\nthe whole are God's Name. This name cannot be uttered by a mortal; he\nhas not the power; therefore it remains for ever unuttered on earth.\nAt the creation the universe uttered it in joy at the new-born world;\n'the morning stars sang together.' At the last day it will be uttered\nagain. Till then it is kept a secret, lest it be degraded, as it has\nbeen by the Hindus, who, from the three rays created their three false\ngods, Brahma, Vishnu, and Siva. Tradition relates that Einigan Gawr\nsaw the Divine Name appear, and inscribed it on three rods of mountain\nash. The people mistook the three rods thus inscribed for God himself,\nand Einigan died from grief at their error.[87]\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[87] 'Dosparth Edeyrn Dafod Aur,' 3.\n\n\nVIII.\n\nThe devil with which we are acquainted is a character unknown to Greek\nor Roman mythology; this devil was a later invention; but his identity\nwith the genii, or jinns of the 'Arabian Nights,' the Divs of Persian\nhistory, is clear enough. Ahriman, the evil spirit, king of the realms\nof darkness and of fire, was apparently the progenitor of Satan, as\nVritra was of Ahriman. Both these ancient arch-fiends appeared as\nserpents in form, and were myths representing the darkness, slain by\nthe light, or the sun-god, in the one case called Indra, in the other\nOrmuzd. The medieval devil with horns and hoofs does not appear in the\nrecords of Judaism. He is an outgrowth of the moral principle of the\nChristian era; and traced to his origins he is simply a\npersonification of the adversary in the never-ending struggle on earth\nbetween light and darkness. That struggle is not, in nature, a moral\none; but it remains to-day, as it was in the beginning, the best type\nwe have of the battle between right and wrong, and between truth and\nerror. When God said, 'Let there be light,' the utterance became the\nsymbol and guide of virtue, of brave endeavour, and of scientific\nresearch, until the end.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\n    Cambrian Death-Portents--The Corpse-Bird--The\n    Tan-Wedd--Listening at the Church-Door--The Lledrith--The\n    Gwrach y Rhibyn--The Llandaff Gwrach--Ugliness of this\n    Female Apparition--The Black Maiden--The Cyhyraeth, or\n    Crying Spirit--Its Moans on Land and Sea--The St. Mellons\n    Cyhyraeth--The Groaning Spirit of Bedwellty.\n\n\nI.\n\nThere are death portents in every country, and in endless variety; in\nWales these portents assume distinct and striking individualities, in\ngreat number and with clearly defined attributes. The banshee,\naccording to Mr. Baring-Gould, has no corresponding feature in\nScandinavian, Teutonic, or classic mythology, and belongs entirely to\nthe Celts. The Welsh have the banshee in its most blood-curdling form\nunder the name of the Gwrach y Rhibyn; they have also the Cyhyraeth,\nwhich is never seen, but is heard, moaning dolefully and dreadfully in\nthe night; the Tolaeth, also only heard, not groaning but imitating\nsome earthly sound, such as sawing, singing, or the tramping of feet;\nthe Cwn Annwn and Cwn y Wybr, Dogs of Hell and Dogs of the Sky; the\nCanwyll Corph, or Corpse Candle; the Teulu, or Goblin Funeral, and\nmany others--all of them death-portents. These, as the more important\nand striking, I will describe further; but there are several others\nwhich must first be mentioned.\n\nThe Aderyn y Corph is a bird which chirps at the door of the person\nwho is about to die, and makes a noise that sounds like the Welsh word\nfor 'Come! come!' the summons to death.[88] In ancient tradition, it\nhad no feathers nor wings, soaring without support high in the\nheavens, and, when not engaged upon some earthly message, dwelling in\nthe land of illusion and phantasy.[89] This corpse-bird may properly\nbe associated with the superstition regarding the screech-owl, whose\ncry near a sick-bed inevitably portends death. The untimely crowing of\na cock also foretells the sudden demise of some member of the family.\nIn North Wales the cry of the golden plover is a death-omen; these\nbirds are called, in this connection, the whistlers.[90] The same\nsuperstition prevails in Warwickshire, and the sound is called the\nseven whistlers.\n\nThunder and lightning in mid-winter announce the death of the great\nman of the parish. This superstition is thought to be peculiar to\nWales, or to the wilder and more secluded parts of North Wales.[91]\nAlso deemed peculiar to Wales is the Tan-wedd, a fiery apparition\nwhich falls on the lands of a freeholder who is about to die. It is\ndescribed as appearing somewhat similar to falling stars, but slower\nof motion. 'It lighteneth all the air and ground where it passeth,'\nsays 'the honest Welshman, Mr. Davis, in a letter to Mr. Baxter,'\nadding, 'lasteth three or four miles or more, for aught is known,\nbecause no man seeth the rising or beginning of it; and when it falls\nto the ground it sparkleth and lighteth all about.'[92] It also comes\nas a duty-performing goblin, after a death, haunting the graveyard,\nand calling attention to some special grave by its conduct, as in the\nfollowing account: Walter Watkins, of the Neuadd, in a parish of\nBrecknockshire, was going one dark night towards Taf Fechan Chapel,\nnot far from his house, when he saw a light near the chapel. It\nincreased till it was as big as a church tower, and decreased again\ntill it was as small as a star; then enlarged again and decreased as\nbefore; and this it did several times. He went to his house and\nfetched his father and mother to see it, and they all saw it plainly,\nmuch to their astonishment and wonder. Some time after, as a neighbour\nwas ploughing in a field near the chapel, about where the mysterious\nlight had been seen, the plough struck against a large flat stone.\nThis the ploughman raised up, after a deal of difficulty, and under it\nhe found a stone chest, in which was the jawbone of a man, and nought\nelse except an earthen jug. The bone was supposed to be the remains of\na man who had disappeared long before, and whose wife had since\nmarried; and on her being told of it, she fell ill and died. The\nlight, which had often been seen before by various persons, was after\nthis seen no more. It was believed to be the spirit of the murdered\nman, appearing as a light.\n\nListening at the church-door in the dark, to hear shouted by a ghostly\nvoice in the deserted edifice the names of those who are shortly to be\nburied in the adjoining churchyard, is a Hallow E'en custom in some\nparts of Wales. In other parts, the window serves the same purpose.\nThere are said to be still extant, outside some village churches,\nsteps which were constructed in order to enable the superstitious\npeasantry to climb to the window to listen. The principle of\n'expectant attention,' so well known to physiological science, would\nbe likely in this case to act with special force as a ghost-raiser. In\nan ancient MS. by Llywelyn Sion, of Llangewydd, there is mention of a\nfrightful monster called the Fad Felen, which was seen through the\nkey-hole of Rhos church by Maelgwn Gwynedd, who 'died in consequence.'\nThis monster was predicted in a poem by Taliesin, as a 'strange\ncreature' which should come from the sea marsh, with hair and teeth\nand eyes like gold. The yellow fever plague, which raged in Wales\nduring some five years in the sixth century, is the monster referred\nto in this legend.\n\nThe Scotch wraith and Irish fetch have their parallel in Wales in the\nLledrith, or spectre of a person seen before his death; it never\nspeaks, and vanishes if spoken to. It has been seen by miners previous\nto a fatal accident in the mine. The story is told of a miner who saw\nhimself lying dead and horribly maimed in a phantom tram-car, led by a\nphantom horse, and surrounded by phantom miners. As he watched this\ndreadful group of spectres they passed on, looking neither to the\nright nor the left, and faded away. The miner's dog was as frightened\nas its master at the sight, and ran howling into the darkness. Though\ndeeming himself doomed, the miner continued to work in the pit; and as\nthe days passed on, and no harm came to him, he grew more cheerful,\nand was so bold as to laugh at the superstition. The day he did this,\na stone fell from the roof and broke his arm. As soon as he recovered\nhe resumed work in the pit; his death followed instantly. A stone\ncrushed him, and he was borne maimed and dead in the tram along the\nroad where his lledrith had appeared, 'a mile below the play of\nsunshine and wave of trees.'[93]\n\nThe Mallt y Nos, or night-fiend, is a death-omen mentioned by Rev.\nD. R. Thomas in the 'Archaeologia Cambrensis'; and Croker[94] gives as\nthe Welsh parallel of the Irish death-coach a spectre called ceffyl\nheb un pen, or the headless horse. The marw coel, or 'yellow spot\nbefore death,' is another death-omen which I have been able to trace\nno further than the pages where I find it.[95]\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[88] 'Dewch! dewch!'\n\n[89] 'Cymru Fu,' 299.\n\n[90] 'Camb. Quarterly,' iv., 487.\n\n[91] 'Arch. Camb.' 4th Se., iii., 333.\n\n[92] Brand, 'Pop. Ant.' iii., 127.\n\n[93] 'Tales and Sketches of Wales,' in 'Weekly Mail.'\n\n[94] 'Fairy Legends of the South of Ireland,' 341.\n\n[95] 'The Vale of Glamorgan.'\n\n\nII.\n\nA frightful figure among Welsh apparitions is the Gwrach y Rhibyn,\nwhose crowning distinction is its prodigious ugliness. The feminine\npronoun is generally used in speaking of this goblin, which unlike the\nmajority of its kind, is supposed to be a female. A Welsh saying,\nregarding one of her sex who is the reverse of lovely, is, 'Y mae mor\nsalw a Gwrach y Rhibyn,' (She is as ugly as the Gwrach y Rhibyn.) The\nspectre is a hideous being with dishevelled hair, long black teeth,\nlong, lank, withered arms, leathern wings, and a cadaverous\nappearance. In the stillness of night it comes and flaps its wings\nagainst the window, uttering at the same time a blood-curdling howl,\nand calling by name on the person who is to die, in a lengthened dying\ntone, as thus: 'Da-a-a-vy!' 'De-i-i-o-o-o ba-a-a-ch!' The effect of\nits shriek or howl is indescribably terrific, and its sight blasting\nto the eyes of the beholder. It is always an omen of death, though its\nwarning cry is heard under varying circumstances; sometimes it appears\nin the mist on the mountain side, or at cross-roads, or by a piece of\nwater which it splashes with its hands. The gender of apparitions is\nno doubt as a rule the neuter, but the Gwrach y Rhibyn defies all\nrules by being a female which at times sees fit to be a male. In its\nfemale character it has a trick of crying at intervals, in a most\ndoleful tone, 'Oh! oh! fy ngwr, fy ngwr!' (my husband! my husband!)\nBut when it chooses to be a male, this cry is changed to 'Fy ngwraig!\nfy ngwraig!' (my wife! my wife!) or 'Fy mlentyn, fy mlentyn bach!' (my\nchild, my little child!) There is a frightful story of a dissipated\npeasant who met this goblin on the road one night, and thought it was\na living woman; he therefore made wicked and improper overtures to it,\nwith the result of having his soul nearly frightened out of his body\nin the horror of discovering his mistake. As he emphatically\nexclaimed, 'Och, Dduw! it was the Gwrach y Rhibyn, and not a woman at\nall.'\n\n\nIII.\n\nThe Gwrach y Rhibyn recently appeared, according to an account given\nme by a person who claimed to have seen it, at Llandaff. Surely, no\nmore probable site for the appearance of a spectre so ancient of\nlineage could be found, than that ancient cathedral city where some\nsay was the earliest Christian fane in Great Britain, and which was\ncertainly the seat of the earliest Christian bishopric. My narrator\nwas a respectable-looking man of the peasant-farmer class, whom I met\nin one of my walks near Cardiff, in the summer of 1878. 'It was at\nLlandaff,' he said to me, 'on the fourteenth of last November, when I\nwas on a visit to an old friend, that I saw and heard the Gwrach y\nRhibyn. I was sleeping in my bed, and was woke at midnight by a\nfrightful screeching and a shaking of my window. It was a loud and\nclear screech, and the shaking of the window was very plain, but it\nseemed to go by like the wind. I was not so much frightened, sir, as\nyou may think; excited I was--that's the word--excited; and I jumped\nout of bed and rushed to the window and flung it open. Then I saw the\nGwrach y Rhibyn, saw her plainly, sir, a horrible old woman with long\nred hair and a face like chalk, and great teeth like tusks, looking\nback over her shoulder at me as she went through the air with a long\nblack gown trailing along the ground below her arms, for body I could\nmake out none. She gave another unearthly screech while I looked at\nher; then I heard her flapping her wings against the window of a house\njust below the one I was in, and she vanished from my sight. But I\nkept on staring into the darkness, and as I am a living man, sir, I\nsaw her go in at the door of the Cow and Snuffers Inn, and return no\nmore. I watched the door of the inn a long time, but she did not come\nout. The next day, it's the honest truth I'm telling you, they told me\nthe man who kept the Cow and Snuffers Inn was dead--had died in the\nnight. His name was Llewellyn, sir--you can ask any one about him, at\nLlandaff--he had kept the inn there for seventy years, and his family\nbefore him for three hundred years, just at that very spot. It's not\nthese new families that the Gwrach y Rhibyn ever troubles, sir, it's\nthe old stock.'\n\n\nIV.\n\nThe close resemblance of this goblin to the Irish banshee (or benshi)\nwill be at once perceived. The same superstition is found among other\npeoples of Celtic origin. Sir Walter Scott mentions it among the\nhighlands of Scotland.[96] It is not traced among other than Celtic\npeoples distinctly, but its association with the primeval mythology\nis doubtless to be found in the same direction with many other\ndeath-omens, to wit, the path of the wind-god Hermes.\n\nThe frightful ugliness of the Gwrach y Rhibyn is a consistent feature\nof the superstition, in both its forms; it recalls the Black Maiden\nwho came to Caerleon and liberated Peredur:[97] 'Blacker were her face\nand her two hands than the blackest iron covered with pitch; and her\nhue was not more frightful than her form. High cheeks had she, and a\nface lengthened downwards, and a short nose with distended nostrils.\nAnd one eye was of a piercing mottled gray, and the other was as black\nas jet, deep-sunk in her head. And her teeth were long and yellow,\nmore yellow were they than the flower of the broom. And her stomach\nrose from the breast-bone, higher than her chin. And her back was in\nthe shape of a crook, and her legs were large and bony. And her figure\nwas very thin and spare, except her feet and legs, which were of huge\nsize.' The Welsh word 'gwrach' means a hag or witch, and it has been\nfancied that there is a connection between this word and the mythical\nAvagddu,[98] whose wife the gwrach was.\n\nThe Gwrach y Rhibyn appears also as a river-spectre, in\nGlamorganshire.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[96] 'Demonology and Witchcraft,' 351.\n\n[97] 'Mabinogion,' 114.\n\n[98] Avagddu means both hell and the devil, as our word Heaven means\nboth the Deity and his abode.\n\n\nV.\n\nA death-portent which is often confused with the Gwrach y Rhibyn, yet\nwhich is rendered quite distinct by its special attributes, is the\nCyhyraeth. This is a groaning spirit. It is never seen, but the noise\nit makes is no less terrible to the ear than the appearance of its\nvisible sister is to the eye. Among groaning spirits it is considered\nto be the chief. The Prophet Jones succinctly characterises it as 'a\ndoleful, dreadful noise in the night, before a burying.' David\nProsser, of Llanybyther parish, 'a sober, sensible man and careful to\ntell the truth,' once heard the Cyhyraeth in the early part of the\nnight, his wife and maid-servant being together in the house, and also\nhearing it; and when it came opposite the window, it 'pronounced these\nstrange words, of no signification that we know of,' viz. '_Woolach!\nWoolach!_' Some time afterward a funeral passed that way. The\njudicious Joshua Coslet, who lived by the river Towy in\nCarmarthenshire, testified that the Cyhyraeth is often heard there,\nand that it is 'a doleful, disagreeable sound heard before the deaths\nof many, and most apt to be heard before foul weather. The voice\nresembles the groaning of sick persons who are to die; heard at first\nat a distance, then comes nearer, and the last near at hand; so that\nit is a threefold warning of death. It begins strong, and louder than\na sick man can make; the second cry is lower, but not less doleful,\nbut rather more so; the third yet lower, and soft, like the groaning\nof a sick man almost spent and dying.' A person 'well remembering the\nvoice' and coming to the sick man's bed, 'shall hear his groans\nexactly like' those which he had before heard from the Cyhyraeth. This\ncrying spirit especially affected the twelve parishes in the hundred\nof Inis Cenin, which lie on the south-east side of the river Towy,\n'where some time past it groaned before the death of every person who\nlived that side of the country.' It also sounded before the death of\npersons 'who were born in these parishes, but died elsewhere.'\nSometimes the voice is heard long before death, but not longer than\nthree quarters of a year. So common was it in the district named, that\namong the people there a familiar form of reproach to any one making a\ndisagreeable noise, or 'children crying or groaning unreasonable,' was\nto ejaculate, 'Oh 'r Cyhyraeth!' A reason why the Cyhyraeth was more\noften heard in the hundred of Inis Cenin was thought to be that Non,\nthe mother of St. David, lived in those parts, where a village is\ncalled after her name, Llan-non, the church of Non.\n\nOn the southern sea-coast, in Glamorganshire, the Cyhyraeth is\nsometimes heard by the people in the villages on shore passing down\nthe channel with loud moans, while those dismal lights which forebode\na wreck are seen playing along the waves. Watchers by the sea-shore\nhave also heard its moan far out on the ocean, gradually drawing\nnearer and nearer, and then dying away; and when they thought it gone\nit has suddenly shrieked close to their startled ears, chilling their\nvery marrows. Then, long after, they would hear it, now faint, now\nloud, going along the sands into the distant darkness. One or more\ncorpses were usually washed ashore soon after. In the villages the\nCyhyraeth is heard passing through the empty streets and lanes by\nnight, groaning dismally, sometimes rattling the window-shutters, or\nflinging open the door as it flits by. When going along the country\nlanes it will thus horrify the inmates of every house it passes. Some\nold people say it is only heard before the death of such as are of\nstrayed mind, or who have long been ill; but it always comes when an\nepidemic is about to visit the neighbourhood.\n\nA tradition of the Cyhyraeth is connected with the parish churchyard\nat St. Mellons, a quaint old-fashioned village within easy tramping\ndistance of Cardiff, but in Monmouthshire. It is of a boy who was sent\non an errand, and who heard the Cyhyraeth crying in the churchyard,\nfirst in one place, then in another, and finally in a third place,\nwhere it rested. Some time after, a corpse was brought to that\nchurchyard to be buried, but some person came and claimed the grave.\nThey went to another place, but that also was claimed. Then they went\nto a third place, and there they were allowed to bury their dead in\npeace. And this going about with the corpse was 'just the same as the\nboy declared it.' Of course the boy could not know what was to come to\npass, 'but this crying spirit knew exactly what would come to pass.' I\nwas also told by a person at St. Mellons that a ghost had been seen\nsitting upon the old stone cross which stands on the hillside near the\nchurch.\n\n\nVI.\n\nOther groaning spirits are sometimes heard. A girl named Mary Morgan,\nliving near Crumlyn Bridge, while standing on the bridge one evening\nwas seized with mortal terror on hearing a groaning voice going up the\nriver, uttering the words, 'O Dduw, beth a wnaf fi?' (O God, what\nshall I do?) many times repeated, amid direful groans. The conclusion\nof this narration is a hopeless mystery, as Mary fainted away with her\nfright.\n\nMuch more satisfactory, as a ghost-story with a moral, is the tale of\nthe groaning spirit of Bedwellty.[99] There was one night a wake at\nthe house of Meredith Thomas, over the body of his four-year-old\nchild, at which two profane men (named Thomas Edward Morgan and\nAnthony Aaron) began playing at cards, and swearing most horribly. In\nthe parish of Bedwellty, the wakes--or watch-nights, as they are more\ncommonly called in Wales--were at that time very profanely kept. 'Few\nbesides the dissenters,' says Jones (who was himself a dissenter, it\nmust be remembered), 'had the sense and courage to forbid' this\nwickedness, but 'suffered it as a custom, because the pretence was to\ndivert the relations of the dead, and lessen their sorrows.' While the\naforementioned profane men were playing cards and swearing, suddenly a\ndismal groaning noise was heard at the window. At this the company was\nmuch frightened, excepting the card-players, who said 'Pw!' and went\non playing. But to pacify the rest of the company they finally\ndesisted, and at once the groaning ceased. Soon after they began\nplaying again, when at once the groaning set up in most lamentable\ntones, so that people shuddered; but the profane men again said, 'Pw!\nit is some fellow playing tricks to frighten us.' 'No,' said William\nHarry Rees, a good man of the Baptist persuasion, 'it is no human\nbeing there groaning, but a spirit,' and again he desired them to give\nover. But though they were so bold with their card-playing, these\nwicked men had not the hardihood to venture out and see who it was\n'playing tricks,' as they called it. However, one of the company said,\n'I will go, and take the dogs with me, and see if there be any human\nbeing there.' The groaning still continued. This bold person then\n'took the prime staff, and began to call the dogs to go with him;' but\nthe dogs could not be induced to go out, being in great terror at the\ngroaning noise, and sought to hide themselves under the stools, and\nabout the people's feet. In vain they beat the dogs, and kicked and\nscolded them, out-door they would not go. This at last convinced the\nprofane men, and they left off playing, for fear the devil should come\namong them. For it was told in other places that people had played\ncards till his sulphurous majesty appeared in person.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[99] Jones, 'Apparitions,' 24.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII.\n\n    The Tolaeth Death Portent--Its various Forms--The Tolaeth\n    before Death--Ewythr Jenkin's Tolaeth--A modern\n    Instance--The Railway Victim's Warning--The Goblin\n    Voice--The Voice from the Cloud--Legend of the Lord and the\n    Beggar--The Goblin Funeral--The Horse's Skull--The Goblin\n    Veil--The Wraith of Llanllwch--Dogs of Hell--The Tale of\n    Pwyll--Spiritual Hunting Dogs--Origin of the Cwn Annwn.\n\n\nI.\n\nThe Tolaeth is an ominous sound, imitating some earthly sound of one\nsort or another, and always heard before either a funeral or some\ndreadful catastrophe. Carpenters of a superstitious turn of mind will\ntell you that they invariably hear the Tolaeth when they are going to\nreceive an order to make a coffin; in this case the sound is that of\nthe sawing of wood, the hammering of nails, and the turning of screws,\nsuch as are heard in the usual process of making a coffin. This is\ncalled the 'Tolaeth before the Coffin.' The 'Tolaeth before Death' is\na supernatural noise heard about the house, such as a knocking, or the\nsound of footsteps in the dead of night. Sometimes it is the sound of\na tolling bell, where no bell is; and the direction in which the ear\nis held at the time points out the place of the coming death. Formerly\nthe veritable church-bell in its steeple would foretell death, by\ntolling thrice at the hour of midnight, unrung by human hands. The\nbell of Blaenporth, Cardiganshire, was noted for thus warning the\nneighbours. The 'Tolaeth before the Burying' is the sound of the\nfuneral procession passing by, unseen, but heard. The voices are\nheard singing the 'Old Hundredth,' which is the psalm tune usually\nsung by funeral bands; the slow regular tramp of the feet is heard,\nand the sobbing and groaning of the mourners. The Tolaeth touches but\none sense at a time. When this funeral procession is heard it cannot\nbe seen. But it is a peculiarity of the Tolaeth that after it has been\nheard by the ear, it sometimes makes itself known to the eye also--but\nin silence. The funeral procession will at first be heard, and then if\nthe hearer stoop forward and look along the ground, it may perhaps be\nseen; the psalm-singers, two abreast, with their hats off and their\nmouths open, as in the act of singing; the coffin, borne on the\nshoulders of four men who hold their hats by the side of their heads;\nthe mourners, the men with long black hatbands streaming behind, the\nwomen pale and sorrowful, with upheld handkerchiefs; and the rest of\nthe procession stretching away dimly into shadow. Not a sound is\nheard, either of foot or voice, although the singers' mouths are open.\nAfter the procession has passed, and the observer has risen from his\nstooping posture, the Tolaeth again breaks on the ear, the music, the\ntread of feet, and the sobbing, as before. A real funeral is sure to\npass that way not long afterwards.\n\nThis form of the Tolaeth should not be confused with the Teulu, or\nGoblin Funeral proper, which is a death-warning occupying its own\nplace.\n\n\nII.\n\nJohn Clode, an honest labouring man living on the coast of\nGlamorganshire, near the Sker Rocks, had just gone to bed one night,\nwhen he and his wife heard the door open, the tread of shuffling feet,\nthe moving about of chairs, and the grunting of men as if setting\ndown a load. This was all in the room where they lay, it being the\nonly room their cottage afforded, except the one upstairs. 'John,\nJohn!' cried his wife in alarm, 'what is this?' In vain John rubbed\nhis eyes and stared into the darkness. Nothing could he see. Two days\nafterward their only son was brought home drowned; and his corpse\nbeing borne into the house upon a ladder, there were the same noises\nof opening the door, the shuffling of feet, the moving of chairs, the\nsetting down of the burden, that the Tolaeth had touched their ears\nwith. 'John, John!' murmured poor Mrs. Clode; 'this is exactly what I\nheard in the night.' 'Yes, wife,' quoth John, 'it was the Tolaeth\nbefore Death.'\n\nBefore Ewythr Jenkin of Nash died, his daughter Gwenllian heard the\nTolaeth. She had taken her old father's breeches from under his pillow\nto mend them (for he was very careful always to fold and put his\nbreeches under his pillow, especially if there was a sixpence in the\npocket), and just as she was about sitting down at the table on which\nshe had thrown them, there came a loud rap on the table, which\nstartled her very much. 'Oh, Jenny, what was that?' she asked of the\nservant girl; but Jenny could only stare at her mistress, more\nfrightened than herself. Again did Gwenllian essay to sit and take the\nbreeches in hand, when there came upon the table a double rap, much\nlouder than the first, a rap, in fact, that made all the chairs and\nkettles ring. So then Gwenllian fainted away.\n\nAt a place called by its owner Llynwent, in Radnorshire, at a certain\ntime the man of the house and his wife were gone from home. The rest\nof the family were sitting at supper, when three of the servants heard\nthe sound of horses coming toward the house, and cried out, 'There,\nthey are coming!' thinking it was their master and mistress returning\nhome. But on going out to meet them, there was nobody near. They\nre-entered the house, somewhat uneasy in their minds at this strange\nthing, and clustered about the fire, with many expressions of\nwonderment. While they were so seated, 'Hark!' said one, and all\nlistening intently, heard footsteps passing by them and going up\nstairs, and voices of people talking among themselves. Not long\nafterward three of the family fell sick and died.\n\n\nIII.\n\nAn instance of recent occurrence is given by a local newspaper\ncorrespondent writing from the scene of a Welsh railway accident in\nOctober, 1878. It was at Pontypridd, famous the world over for its\ngraceful bridge, (now old and superannuated,) and renowned in Druidic\nstory as a seat of learning. A victim of the railway accident was, a\nfew days before the collision, 'sitting with his wife at the fireside,\nwhen he had an omen. The house was still, and they were alone, only a\nlittle servant girl being with them. Then, while so sitting and\ntalking, they both heard a heavy footstep ascending the stairs, step\nby step, step by step, as that of one carrying a burden. They looked\nat one another, and the husband called, \"Run, Mary, upstairs; some one\nhas gone up.\" Mary did run, but there was no one. She was told to look\nin every room, and she did so, and it was put down as fancy. When the\nnews was borne to the poor wife on Saturday night, she started up and\nsaid, \"There now, that was the omen!\"'[100] That his readers may not\nby any perversity fail to understand him as alluding to the Tolaeth\nbefore Death, our newspaper correspondent states his creed: 'I believe\nin omens. I knew a lady who heard distinctly three raps at her door.\nAnother lady was sitting with her near it too. The door was an inner\ndoor. No servant was in the house. The two ladies heard it, and yet no\nhuman hand touched that door, and at the time when the knock was heard\na dear brother was dying. I know of strange things of this sort. Of\nvoices crying the names of half-sleeping relatives when the waves were\nwashing some one dear away to the mighty deep; but then the world\nlaughs at all this and the world goes on.' The correspondent is\nsevere; there is nothing here to laugh at.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[100] 'Western Mail,' Oct. 23, 1878.\n\n\nIV.\n\nThe Tolaeth has one other form--that of a Voice which speaks, in a\nsimple and natural manner, but very significant words. Thus Edward\nLloyd, in the parish of Llangurig, was lying very ill, when the people\nthat were with him in his chamber heard a voice near them, but could\nsee no one; nor could they find any one anywhere about the house, to\nwhom the voice might belong. Soon afterwards they heard it utter, so\ndistinctly that it seemed to be in the room where they were, these\nwords, 'Y mae nenbren y t[^y] yn craccio,' (the upper beam of the\nhouse cracketh.) Soon the Voice spoke again, saying, 'Fe dor yn y\nman,' (it will presently break.) And once more it spoke: 'Dyna fe yn\ntori,' (there it breaks.) That moment the sick man gave up the ghost.\n\nJohn, the son of Watkin Elias Jones, of the parish of Mynyddyslwyn,\nwas one day ploughing in the field, when the oxen rested, and he sent\nthe lad who drove the oxen, to fetch something which he wanted; and\nwhile thus alone in the field, he saw a cloud coming across the field\nto him. When the cloud had come to that part of the field where he\nwas, it stopped, and shadowed the sun from him; and out of the cloud\ncame a Voice, which asked him which of these three diseases he would\nchoose to die of--fever, dropsy, or consumption. Being a man who could\ngive a plain answer to a plain question, he replied that he would\nrather die of consumption. The lad now returning, he sent him home\nwith the oxen, and then, feeling inclined to sleep, lay down and\nslept. When he awoke he was ill, and fell by degrees into a\nconsumption, of which he died one year from the day of this warning.\nHe did not tell of this apparition, however, until within six weeks of\nhis death.\n\n\nV.\n\nOne of the most beautiful legends in the Iolo MSS. gives an ancient\ntale of the Tolaeth which may be thus condensed: A great and wealthy\nlord, rich in land, houses and gold, enjoying all the luxuries of\nlife, heard a voice proclaim thrice distinctly: 'The greatest and\nrichest man of this parish shall die to-night.' At this he was sadly\ntroubled, for he knew that the greatest and richest man of that parish\ncould be no other than he; so he sent for the physician, but made\nready for death. Great, however, was his joy when the night passed,\nthe day broke, and he was yet alive. At sunrise the church bell was\nheard tolling, and the lord sent in haste to know who was dead. Answer\ncame that it was an old blind beggar man, who had asked, and been\nrefused, alms at the great man's gate. Then the lord knew the meaning\nof the warning voice he had heard: that very great and very rich man\nhad been the poor beggar--his treasures and wealth in the kingdom of\nheaven. He took the warning wisely to heart, endowed religious houses,\nrelieved all who were in poverty, and when at last he was dying, the\nvoices of angels were heard to sing a hymn of welcome; and he was\nburied, according to his desire, in the old beggar's grave.[101]\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[101] Iolo MSS., 592.\n\n\nVI.\n\nOf the Teulu, or Goblin Funeral, a death-portent of wide prevalence in\nWales, numberless stories are told. This omen is sometimes a form of\nthe Tolaeth, but in itself constitutes an omen which is simple and\nexplicit. A funeral procession is seen passing down the road, and at\nthe same time it is heard. It has no shadowy goblin aspect, but\nappears to be a real funeral. Examination shows its shadowy nature.\nSubsequently a real funeral passes the same way, and is recognised as\nthe fulfilment of the omen. The goblin funeral precedes the other\nsometimes by days, sometimes by weeks. Rees Thomas, a carpenter of\nCarmarthenshire, passing by night through Rhiw Edwst, near Capel Ywen,\nheard a stir as of a procession of people coming towards him, walking\nand speaking; and when they were close to him he felt the touch of an\nunseen hand upon his shoulder, and a voice saying to him, 'Rhys bach,\npa fodd yr y'ch chwi?' (my dear Rees, how are you?) A month after,\npassing that way again, he met a funeral in that very place, and a\nwoman of the company put her hand upon his shoulder and spoke exactly\nthe same Welsh words to him that the invisible spirit had spoken. Rev.\nHowel Prosser, many years ago curate of Aberystruth, late one evening\nsaw a funeral procession going down the church lane. Supposing it to\nbe the funeral of a man who had recently died in the upper part of his\nparish, yet wondering he had not been notified of the burial, he put\non his band in order to perform his office over the dead, and hastened\nto meet the procession. But when he came to it he saw that it was\ncomposed of strangers, whom he had never seen before. Nevertheless, he\nlaid his hand on the bier, to help carry the corpse, when instantly\nthe whole vanished, and he was alone; but in his hand he found the\nskull of a dead horse. 'Mr. Prosser was my schoolmaster, and a right\nhonest man,' says Edmund Jones,[102] who is responsible for this\nstory, as well as for the ensuing: Isaac William Thomas, who lived not\nfar from Hafodafel, once met a Goblin Funeral coming down the mountain\ntoward Llanhiddel church. He stood in a field adjoining the highway,\nand leaned against the stone wall. The funeral came close to the other\nside of the wall, and as the bier passed him he reached forth his hand\nand took off the black veil which was over the bier. This he carried\nto his home, where many people saw it. 'It was made of some exceeding\nfine stuff, so that when folded it was a very little substance, and\nvery light.' That he escaped being hurt for this bold act was long the\nmarvel of the parish; but it was believed, by their going aside to\ncome so near him, that the goblins were willing he should do as he\ndid.\n\nAn old man who resided near Llanllwch church, in Carmarthenshire, used\nto assert in the most solemn manner that he had seen the Teulu going\nto church again and again. On a certain evening hearing one\napproaching, he peeped over a wall to look at it. The persons\ncomposing the procession were all acquaintances of his, with the\nexception of one who stood apart from the rest, gazing mournfully at\nthem, and who appeared to be a stranger. Soon afterwards there was a\nreal burying, and the old man, determined to see if there would be in\nthe scene any resemblance to his last Teulu, went to the churchyard\nand waited. When the procession arrived, all were there as he had seen\nthem, except the stranger. Looking about him curiously, the old man\nwas startled by the discovery that he was himself the stranger! He was\nstanding on the identical spot where had stood the man he did not\nrecognise when he saw the Teulu. It was his own ghost.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[102] 'Account of the Parish of Aberystruth,' 17.\n\n\nVII.\n\nThe death portent called Cwn Annwn, or Dogs of Hell, is a pack of\nhounds which howl through the air with a voice frightfully\ndisproportionate to their size, full of a wild sort of lamentation.\nThere is a tradition that one of them once fell on a tombstone, but no\none was able to secure it. A peculiarity of these creatures is that\nthe nearer they are to a man the less loud their voice sounds,\nresembling then the voice of small beagles, and the farther off they\nare the louder is their cry. Sometimes a voice like that of a great\nhound is heard sounding among them--a deep hollow voice, as if it were\nthe voice of a monstrous bloodhound. Although terrible to hear, and\ncertain portents of death, they are in themselves harmless. 'They have\nnever been known,' says a most respectable authority,[103] 'to commit\nany mischief on the persons of either man or woman, goat, sheep, or\ncow.' Sometimes they are called Cwn y Wybr, or Dogs of the Sky, but\nthe more sulphurous name is the favourite one. They are also\nsometimes called Dogs of the Fairies. Their origin in fairyland is\ntraced to the famous mabinogi of Pwyll, Prince of Dyfed; but in that\nfascinating tale of enchantment their right to be called Cwn Annwn is\nclearly set forth, for they are there the hounds of a King of Annwn.\nThere are several translations of this mabinogi in existence, and its\npopularity in South Wales is great, for the villages, vales, and\nstreams mentioned in it are familiar to residents in Pembroke,\nCarmarthen, and Cardigan shires. Pwyll, the Prince, was at Narberth,\nwhere was his chief palace, when he went one day to a wood in Glyn\nCych. Here 'he sounded his horn and began to enter upon the chase,\nfollowing his dogs and separating from his companions. And as he was\nlistening to the cry of his pack, he could distinctly hear the cry of\nanother pack, different from that of his own, and which was coming in\nan opposite direction. He could also discern an opening in the woods\ntowards a level plain; and as his pack was entering the skirt of the\nopening he perceived a stag before the other pack, and about the\nmiddle of the glade the pack in the rear coming up and throwing the\nstag on the ground. Upon this he fixed his attention on the colour of\nthe pack, without recollecting to look at the stag: and of all the\nhounds in the world he had ever seen he never saw any like them in\ncolour. Their colour was a shining clear white, with red ears; and the\nwhiteness of the dogs and the redness of their ears were equally\nconspicuous.'[104] They were the hounds of Arawn, a crowned king in\nthe land of Annwn, the shadow-land of Hades.\n\nThe Cwn Annwn are sometimes held to be the hell-hounds which hunt\nthrough the air the soul of the wicked man, the instant it quits the\nbody--a truly terrific idea to the vulgar mind. The Prophet Jones has\nseveral accounts of them: Thomas Phillips, of Trelech parish, heard\nthem with the voice of the great dog sounding among them, and noticed\nthat they followed a course that was never followed by funerals, which\nsurprised him very much, as he had always heard that the Dogs of the\nSky invariably went the same way that the corpse was to follow. Not\nlong after a woman from an adjoining parish died at Trelech, and being\ncarried to her own parish church to be buried, her corpse did actually\npass the same way in which the spirit dogs had been heard to hunt.\nThomas Andrew, of the parish of Llanhiddel, heard them one night as he\nwas coming home. 'He heard them coming towards him, though he saw them\nnot.' Their cry grew fainter as they drew near him, passed him, and\nlouder again as they went from him. They went down the steeps towards\nthe river Ebwy. And Thomas Andrew was 'a religious man, who would not\nhave told an untruth for fear or for favour.'\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[103] 'Cambro-Briton,' i., 350.\n\n[104] Dr. W. Owen Pughe's Trans., 'Camb.-Briton,' ii., 271.\n\n\nVIII.\n\nNo form of superstition has had a wider popularity than this of\nspiritual hunting dogs, with which was usually connected in olden time\nthe wild huntsman, a personage who has dropped quite out of modern\nbelief, at least in Wales. In France this goblin was called Le Grand\nVeneur, and hunted with his dogs in the forests of Fontainebleau; in\nGermany it was Hackelberg, who sold himself to the devil for\npermission to hunt till doomsday. In Britain it was King Arthur who\nserved as the goblin huntsman. Peasants would hear the cry of the\nhounds and the sounding of the horns, but the huntsman was invisible.\nWhen they called out after him, however, the answer came back: 'We are\nKing Arthur and his kindred.' Mr. Baring-Gould,[105] in giving an\naccount of the myth of Odin, the Wild Huntsman, who rides over the\nforests by night on a white horse, with his legion of hell-hounds,\nseems to ascribe the superstition to the imagination of a belated\nwoodcutter frightened by the wind in the tree-tops. William\nHenderson[106] presumes the belief in the Wild Huntsman's pack, which\nprevails in the North of England, to come from the strange unearthly\ncries uttered by wild fowl on their passage southward, and which sound\nlike the yelping of dogs. These natural phenomena have not served,\nhowever, to keep the old belief alive in Wales.\n\nThat the Cwn Annwn are descendants of the wish-hound of Hermes, hardly\nadmits of doubt. The same superstition prevails among all Aryan\npeoples, with details differing but little. The souls of the dying are\ncarried away by the howling winds, the dogs of Hermes, in the ancient\nmythology as in surviving beliefs; on this follows the custom of\nopening the windows at death, so that the released soul may escape. In\nDevonshire they say no soul can escape from the house in which its\nbody dies, unless all the locks and bolts are opened. In China a hole\nis made in the roof for a like purpose. The early Aryan conception of\nthe wind as a howling dog or wolf speeding over the house-tops caused\nthe inmates to tremble with fear, lest their souls should be called to\nfollow them. It must be constantly borne in mind that all these\ncreatures of fancy were more or less interchangeable, and the god\nHermes was at times his own dog, which escorted the soul to the river\nStyx. The winds were now the maruts, or spirits of the breeze, serving\nIndra, the sky-god; again they were the great psychopomp himself. The\npeasant who to-day tells you that dogs can see death enter the house\nwhere a person is about to die, merely repeats the idea of a primeval\nman whose ignorance of physical science was complete.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[105] 'Iceland, its Scenes and Sagas,' 199-203.\n\n[106] 'Notes on Folk-Lore,' 97.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX.\n\n    The Corpse Candle--Its Peculiarities--The Woman of\n    Caerau--Grasping a Corpse Candle--The Crwys Candle--Lights\n    issuing from the Mouth--Jesting with the Canwyll Corph--The\n    Candle at Pontfaen--The Three Candles at Golden\n    Grove--Origin of Death-Portents in Wales--Degree of Belief\n    prevalent at the Present Day--Origin of Spirits in\n    General--The Supernatural--The Question of a Future Life.\n\n\nI.\n\nPerhaps the most picturesque of the several death-omens popular in\nWales is the Canwyll Corph, or Corpse Candle. It is also, according to\nmy observation, the most extensively believed in at the present day.\nIts details are varied and extremely interesting. The idea of a goblin\nin the form of a lighted tallow candle is ludicrous enough, at first\nsight; and indeed I know several learned Welsh gentlemen who venture\nto laugh at it; but the superstition grows more and more grim and less\nrisible the better one becomes acquainted with it. It is worth noting\nhere that the canwyll, or candle, is a more poetic thing among the\nWelsh--has a higher literary place, so to speak--than among\nEnglish-speaking peoples. In the works of their ancient poets the\ncandle is mentioned in passages where we should use the word light or\nlamp--as in this verse, which is attributed to Aneurin (sixth\ncentury):\n\n    The best candle for man is prudence.\n\nThe candle is the favourite figure for mental guidance among the\nWelsh;[107] there is no book in the Welsh language so popular as a\ncertain work of religious counsel by a former Vicar of Llandovery,\ncalled 'The Candle of the Cymry.' The Corpse Candle is always and\ninvariably a death-warning. It sometimes appears as a stately\nflambeau, stalking along unsupported, burning with a ghastly blue\nflame. Sometimes it is a plain tallow 'dip' in the hand of a ghost,\nand when the ghost is seen distinctly it is recognised as the ghost of\nsome person yet living, who will now soon die. This, it will be\nnoticed, is a variation upon the wraith, or Lledrith. Sometimes the\ngoblin is a light which issues from a person's mouth or nostrils.\nAccording to the belief of some sections, the size of the candle\nindicates the age of the person who is about to die, being large when\nit is a full-grown person whose death is foretold, small when it is a\nchild, still smaller when an infant. Where two candles together are\nseen, one of which is large and the other small, it is a mother and\nchild who are to die. When the flame is white, the doomed person is a\nwoman; when red, a man.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[107] Stephens, 'Lit. of the Kymry,' 287. (New Ed., 1876.)\n\n\nII.\n\nAmong the accounts of the Corpse Candle which have come under my\nnotice none are more interesting than those given me by a good dame\nwhom I encountered at Caerau, near Cardiff. Caerau is a little village\nof perhaps one hundred souls, crouched at the foot of a steep hill on\nwhose summit are the ancient earthworks of a Roman camp. On this\nsummit also stands the parish church, distinctly visible from Cardiff\nstreets, so ponderous is its square tower against the sky. To walk\nthere is a pleasant stroll from the late Marquis of Bute's statue in\nthe centre of the seaport town. I am thus particular merely for\nemphasis of the fact that this superstition is not confined to remote\nand out-of-the-way districts. Caerau is rural, and its people are all\npoor people, perhaps; but its church is barely three miles from the\nheart of a busy seaport. In this church I met the voluble Welshwoman\nwho gave me the accounts referred to. One was to this effect: One\nnight her sister was lying very ill at the narrator's house, and she\nwas alone with her children, her husband being in the lunatic asylum\nat Cardiff. She had just put the children to bed, and had set her\ncandle on the floor preparatory to going to bed herself, when there\ncame a 'swish' along the floor, like the rustling of grave-clothes,\nand the candle was blown out. The room, however, to her surprise,\nremained glowing with a feeble light as from a very small taper, and\nlooking behind her she beheld 'old John Richards,' who had been dead\nten years. He held a Corpse Candle in his hand, and he looked at her\nin a chill and steadfast manner which caused the blood to run cold in\nher veins. She turned and woke her eldest boy, and said to him, 'Don't\nyou see old John Richards?' The boy asked 'Where?' rubbing his eyes.\nShe pointed out the ghost, and the boy was so frightened at sight of\nit that he cried out 'O wi! O Dduw! I wish I may die!' The ghost then\ndisappeared, the Corpse Candle in its hand; the candle on the floor\nburned again with a clear light, and the next day the sick sister\ndied.\n\nAnother account ran somewhat thus: The narrator's mother-in-law was\nill with a cancer of the breast. 'Jenny fach,' she said to the\nnarrator one night, 'sleep by me--I feel afraid.' 'Hach!' said Jenny,\nthinking the old woman was foolishly nervous; but she stayed. As she\nwas lying in bed by the side of her mother-in-law, she saw at the foot\nof the bed the faint flame of a Corpse Candle, which shed no light at\nall about the room; the place remained as dark as it was before. She\nlooked at it in a sort of stupor for a short time, and then raised\nherself slowly up in bed and reached out to see if she could grasp the\ncandle. Her fingers touched it, but it immediately went out in a\nlittle shower of pale sparkles that fell downward. At that moment her\nmother-in-law uttered a groan, and expired.\n\n'Do you know Thomas Mathews, sir?' she asked me; 'he lives at Crwys\nnow, but he used to live here at Caerau.' 'Crwys?' I repeated, not at\nonce comprehending. 'Oh, you must know Crwys, sir; it's just the other\nside of Cardiff, towards Newport.' 'Can you spell it for me?'[108] The\nwoman blushed. ''Deed, sir,' said she, 'I ought to be a scholar, but\nI've had so much trouble with my old man that I've quite forgot my\nspellin'.' However, the story of Thomas Mathews was to the effect that\nhe saw a Corpse Candle come out of his father's mouth and go to his\nfeet, and away a bit, then back again to the mouth, which it did not\nexactly enter, but blended as it were with the sick man's body. I\nasked if the candle was tallow at any point in its excursion, to which\nI was gravely answered that it was the spirit of tallow. The man died\nnot long after, in the presence of my informant, who described the\nincident with a dramatic force and fervour peculiarly Celtic,\nconcluding with the remark: 'Well, well, there's only one way to come\ninto the world, but there's a many ways to go out of it.'\n\nThe light issuing from the mouth is a fancy frequently encountered. In\nthe 'Liber Landavensis' it is mentioned that one day as St. Samson was\ncelebrating the holy mysteries, St. Dubricius with two monks saw a\nstream of fire to proceed glittering from his mouth.[109] In old\nwoodcuts, the souls of the dying are represented as issuing from the\nmouth in the form of small human figures; and the Tyrolese peasants\nstill fancy the soul is seen coming out of the mouth of a dying man\nlike a little white cloud.[110] From the mouth of a patient in a London\nhospital some time since the nurses observed issuing a pale bluish\nflame, and soon after the man died. The frightened nurses--not being\nacquainted with the corpse-candle theory of such things--imagined the\ntorments of hell had already begun in the still living body. A\nscientific explanation of the phenomenon ascribed it to phosphuretted\nhydrogen, a result of incipient decomposition.[111]\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[108] It is pronounced Croo-iss.\n\n[109] 'Liber Landavensis,' 299.\n\n[110] Tylor, 'Primitive Culture,' 391.\n\n[111] 'Transactions Cardiff Nat. Soc.,' iv. 5.\n\n\nIII.\n\nIt is ill jesting with the Corpse Candle. Persons who have endeavoured\nto stop it on its way have come severely to grief thereby. Many have\nbeen struck down where they stood, in punishment of their audacity, as\nin the case of William John, a blacksmith of Lanboydi. He was one\nnight going home on horseback, when he saw a Corpse Candle, and his\nnatural caution being at the moment somewhat overcome by potables, he\nresolved to go out of his way to obstruct its passage. As the candle\ndrew near he saw a corpse upon a bier, the corpse of a woman he knew,\nand she held the candle between her forefingers, and dreadfully\ngrinned at him. Then he was struck from his horse, and lay in the road\na long time insensible, and was ill for weeks thereafter. Meantime,\nthe woman whose spectral corpse he had seen, died and was buried, her\nfuneral passing by that road.\n\nA clergyman's son in Carmarthenshire, (subsequently himself a\npreacher,) who in his younger days was somewhat vicious, came home one\nnight late from a debauch, and found the doors locked. Fearing to\ndisturb the folk, and fearing also their reproaches and chidings for\nhis staying out so late, (as many a young fellow has felt before and\nsince,) he went to the man-servant, who slept in an out-room, as is\nsometimes the custom in Welsh rural districts. He could not awake the\nman-servant, but while standing over him, he saw a small light issue\nfrom the servant's nostrils, which soon became a Corpse Candle. He\nfollowed it out. It came to a foot-bridge which crossed a rivulet.\nHere the young man became inspired with the idea of trying an\nexperiment with the Corpse Candle. He raised the end of the\nfoot-bridge off the bank, and watched to see what the ghostly light\nwould do. When it came to the rivulet it seemed to offer to go over,\nbut hesitated, as if loth to cross except upon the bridge. So the\nyoung man put the bridge back in its place, and stayed to see how the\ncandle would act. It came on the bridge, and as it passed the young\nman it struck him, as with a handkerchief. But though the blow was\nthus light and phantom-like, it doubled the young man up and left him\na senseless heap on the ground, where he lay till morning, when he\nrecovered and went home. It is needless to add that the servant died.\n\n\nIV.\n\nMorris Griffith was once schoolmaster in the parish of Pontfaen, in\nPembrokeshire, but subsequently became a Baptist preacher of the\nGospel. He tells this story: 'As I was coming from a place called\nTre-Davydd, and was come to the top of the hill, I saw a great light\ndown in the valley, which I wondered at; for I could not imagine what\nit meant. But it came to my mind that it was a light before a burying,\nthough I never could believe before that there was such a thing. The\nlight which I saw then was a very red light, and it stood still for\nabout a quarter of an hour in the way which went towards\nLlanferch-Llawddog church. I made haste to the other side of the hill,\nthat I might see it farther; and from thence I saw it go along to the\nchurchyard, where it stood still for a little time and entered into\nthe church. I remained waiting to see it come out, and it was not long\nbefore it came out, and went to a certain part of the churchyard,\nwhere it stood a little time, and then vanished out of my sight. A few\ndays afterwards, being in school with the children about noon, I heard\na great noise overhead, as if the top of the house was coming down. I\nran out to see the garret, and there was nothing amiss. A few days\nafterwards, Mr. Higgon of Pontfaen's son died. When the carpenter came\nto fetch the boards to make the coffin, (which were in the garret,) he\nmade exactly such a stir, in handling the boards in the garret, as was\nmade before by some spirit, who foreknew the death that was soon to\ncome to pass. In carrying the body to the grave, the burying stood\nwhere the light had stood for about a quarter of an hour, because\nthere was some water crossing the way, and the people could not go\nover it without wetting their feet, therefore they were obliged to\nwait till those that had boots helped them over. The child was buried\nin that very spot of ground in the churchyard, where I saw the light\nstop after it came out of the church. This is what I can boldly\ntestify, having seen and heard what I relate--a thing which before I\ncould not believe.'\n\nJoshua Coslet, before mentioned in these pages, suddenly met a Corpse\nCandle as he was going through Heol Bwlch y Gwynt, (Windgap Lane) in\nLlandilo Fawr parish. It was a small light when near him, but\nincreased as it went farther from him. He could easily see that there\nwas some dark shadow passing along with the candle, and the shadow of\na man carried it, holding it 'between his three forefingers over\nagainst his face.' He might perhaps have seen more, but he was afraid\nto look too earnestly upon it. Not long after, a burying passed\nthrough Heol Bwlch y Gwynt. Another time he saw the likeness of a\ncandle carried in a skull. 'There is nothing unlikely or unreasonable\nin either of these representations,' says the Prophet Jones, their\nhistorian.\n\nA Carmarthenshire tradition relates that one day, when the coach which\nruns between Llandilo and Carmarthen was passing by Golden Grove, the\nproperty of the Earl of Cawdor, three Corpse Candles were observed on\nthe surface of the water gliding down the stream which runs near the\nroad. All the passengers saw them. A few days after, some men were\nabout crossing the river near there in a coracle, when one of them\nexpressed his fear at venturing, as the river was flooded, and he\nremained behind. Thus the fatal number crossed the river--three--three\nCorpse Candles having foretold their fate; and all were drowned.\n\n\nV.\n\nTradition ascribes the origin of all these death-portents to the\nefforts of St. David. This saint appears to have been a great and\ngood man, and a zealous Catholic, who, as a contemporary of the\nhistorical Arthur, is far enough back in the dim past to meet the\nviews of romantic minds. And a prelate who by his prayers and presence\ncould enable King Arthur to overthrow the Saxons in battle, or who by\nhis pious learning could single-handed put down the Pelagian heresy in\nthe Cardiganshire synod, was surely strong enough to invoke the Gwrach\ny Rhibyn, the Cyhyraeth, the Corpse Candle, and all the dreadful\nbrood. This the legend relates he did by a special appeal to Heaven.\nObserving that the people in general were careless of the life to\ncome, and could not be brought to mind it, and make preparation for\nit, St. David prayed that Heaven would give a sign of the immortality\nof the soul, and of a life to come, by a presage of death. Since that\nday, Wales, and particularly that part of Wales included in the\nbishopric of St. David, has had these phantoms. More materialistic\nminds consider these portents to be a remainder of those practices by\nwhich the persecuted Druids performed their rites and long kept up\ntheir religion in the land which Christianity had claimed: a similar\norigin, in fact, is here found for goblin omens as for fairies.\n\nThat these various portents are extensively believed in at the present\nday there cannot be a doubt; with regard to the most important of\nthem, I am able to testify with the fullest freedom; I have heard\nregarding them story after story, from the lips of narrators whose\nsincerity was expressed vividly in face, tones, and behaviour. The\nexcited eye, the paling cheek, the bated breath, the sinking voice,\nthe intense and absorbed manner--familiar phenomena in every circle\nwhere ghost stories are told--evidenced the perfect sincerity, at\nleast, of the speakers.\n\nIt is unnecessary here to repeat, what I for my own part never forget,\nnor, I trust, does the reader, that Wales is no exception to the rest\nof the world in its credulity. That it is more picturesque is true,\nand it is also true that there is here an unusual amount of legend\nwhich has not hitherto found its way into books. Death-omens are\ncommon to all lands; even in America, there are tales of the banshee,\nimported from Ireland along with the sons of that soil. In one recent\ncase which came under my notice the banshee belonged to a\nCambridgeshire Englishman. This was at Evansville, Indiana, and the\nbanshee had appeared before the deaths of five members of a family,\nthe last of whom was the father. His name was Feast, and the\ncircumstances attending the banshee's visits were gravely described in\na local journal as a matter of news. Less distinguished death-portents\nare common enough in the United States. That the Cambrian portents are\nso picturesque and clearly defined must be considered strong testimony\nto the vivid imagination of the Welsh. Figures born of the fancy, as\ndistinguished from creatures born of the flesh, prove their parentage\nby the vagueness of their outlines. The outlines of the Cyhyraeth and\nthe Gwrach y Rhibyn sometimes run into and mingle with each other, and\nso do those of the Tolaeth and the Goblin Funeral; but the wonder is\nthey are such distinct entities as they are.\n\n\nVI.\n\nTo say that all the visible inhabitants of the mundane spirit-world\nare creatures of the disordered human liver, is perhaps a needless\nharshness of statement. The question of a future life is not involved\nin this subject, nor raised by the best writers who are studying it;\nbut, religious belief quite apart, it remains to be proved that\nspirits of a supernatural world have any share in the affairs of a\nworld governed by natural law. A goblin which manifests itself to the\nhuman eye, it seems to me, becomes natural, by bowing before the\nnatural laws which rule in optics. Yet believers in ghosts find no\ndifficulty in this direction; the word 'supernatural' covers a\nmultitude of sins. 'What is the supernatural?' asks Disraeli, in\n'Lothair.' 'Can there be anything more miraculous than the existence\nof man and the world? anything more literally supernatural than the\norigin of things?'\n\nSurely, in this life, nothing! The student who endeavours to govern\nhis faith by the methods of science asks no more of any ghost that\never walked the earth, than that it will prove itself a reality. Man\nloves the marvellous. The marvels of science, however, do not melt\naway into thin air on close examination. They thrive under the\nseverest tests, and grow more and more extraordinary the more they are\ntried. The spectroscope and the radiometer are more wonderful than any\n'supernatural' thing yet heard of. Transportation through the air in\nthe arms of a spirit is a clear impossibility; but it is less\nwonderful than the every-day feats of electricity in our time, the\nbare conception of which would have filled Plato and Aristotle with\nawe.\n\nThe actual origin of the phantoms of the spirit-world is to be found\nin the lawless and luxuriant fancy of primeval man. The creatures of\nthis fancy have been perpetuated throughout all time, unto our own\nday, by that passionate yearning in men for continued life and love,\nwhich is ineradicable in our nature. Men will not, they can not,\naccept the doubt which plunges an eternal future into eternal\ndarkness, and separates them for ever from the creatures of their\nlove. Hence, when the remorseless fact of Death removes those\ncreatures, they look, with a longing which is indescribably pathetic,\ninto the Unknown where their beloved have gone, and strive to see them\nin their spirit-life.\n\nOn this verge the finite mind must pause; to question that life is to\nadd a terrible burden to all human woe; it need not be questioned. But\nto question the power of anything in that life to manifest itself to\nman through natural law, is to do what science has a right to do. 'The\nliving know that they shall die: but the dead know not any thing ...\nneither have they any more a portion for ever in any thing that is\ndone under the sun.'[112]\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[112] 'Eccles.' ix., 5, 6.\n\n  [Illustration: {SPRIG OF LILY OF THE VALLEY.}]\n\n\n\n\nBOOK III.\n\nQUAINT OLD CUSTOMS.\n\n    Where in an agede cell with moss and iveye growne,\n    In which nor to this daye the sunn had ever showne,\n    Their reverend British saint, in zealous ages paste,\n    To contemplation lived, and did so truly faste,\n    As he did onlie drink what chrystal [rivers] yields,\n    And fed upon the leakes he gather'd in the fields:\n    In memory of whom, in the revolving year,\n    The Welchman on that daye that sacred herb doth wear.\n                    _MS. in Bodleian Library._\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\n    Serious Significance of seemingly Trivial Customs--Their\n    Origins--Common Superstitions--The Age we Live in--Days and\n    Seasons--New Year's Day--The Apple Gift--Lucky Acts on New\n    Year's Morning--The First Foot--Showmen's\n    Superstitions--Levy Dew Song--Happy New Year Carol--Twelfth\n    Night--The Mari Lwyd--The Penglog--The Cutty Wren--Tooling\n    and Sowling--St. Valentine's Day--St. Dewi's Day--The\n    Wearing of the Leek--The Traditional St. David--St.\n    Patrick's Day--St. Patrick a Welshman--Shrove Tuesday.\n\n\nI.\n\nNumberless customs in Wales which appear to be meaningless, to people\nof average culture, are in truth replete with meaning. However trivial\nthey may seem, they are very seldom the offspring of mere fooling. The\nstudent of comparative folk-lore is often able to trace their origin\nwith surprising distinctness, and to evolve from them a significance\nbefore unsuspected. In many cases these quaint old customs are traced\nto the primeval mythology. Others are clearly seen to be of Druidical\norigin. Many spring from the rites and observances of the Roman\nCatholic Church in the early days of Christianity on Welsh\nsoil--where, as is now generally conceded, the Gospel was first\npreached in Great Britain. Some embody historical traditions; and some\nare the outgrowth of peculiar states of society in medieval times.\nDirectly or indirectly, they are all associated with superstition,\nthough in many instances they have quite lost any superstitious\ncharacter in our day.\n\nModern society is agreed, with respect to many curious old customs, to\nview them as the peculiar possession of ignorance. It is very\ninstructive to note, in this connection, how blandly we accept some of\nthe most superstitious of these usages, with tacit approval, and\npermit them to govern our conduct. In every civilised community, in\nevery enlightened land on earth, there are many men and women to whom\nthis remark applies, who would deem themselves shamefully insulted\nshould you doubt their intelligence and culture. Men and women who\n'smile superior' at the idea of Luther hurling inkstands at the devil,\nor at the Welsh peasant who thinks a pig can see the wind, will\nthemselves avoid beginning a journey on a Friday, view as ominous a\nrainy wedding-day, throw an old slipper after a bride for luck,\nobserve with interest the portents of their nightly dreams, shun\nseeing the new moon over the left shoulder, throw a pinch of salt over\nthe same member when the salt-cellar is upset, tie a red string about\nthe neck to cure nose-bleed, and believe in the antics of the modern\nspiritualistic 'control.' Superstition, however, they leave to the\nignorant! The examples of every-day fetichism here cited are familiar\nto us, not specially among the Welsh, but among the English also, and\nthe people of the United States--who, I may again observe, are no\ndoubt as a people uncommonly free from superstition, in comparison\nwith the older nations of the earth; but modesty is a very becoming\nwear for us all, in examining into other people's superstitions.\n\nAside from their scientific interest, there is a charm about many of\nthe quaint customs of the Welsh, which speaks eloquently to most\nhearts. They are the offspring of ignorance, true, but they touch the\n'good old times' of the poet and the romancer, when the conditions of\nlife were less harsh than now. So we love to think. As a matter of\nscientific truth, this idea is itself, alas! but a superstition. This\nworld has probably never been so fair a place to live in, life never\nso free from harsh conditions, as now; and as time goes on, there can\nbe no doubt the improving process will continue. The true halcyon days\nof man are to be looked for in the future--not in the past; but with\nthat future we shall have no mortal part.\n\n\nII.\n\nIn treating of customs, no other classification is needful than their\narrangement in orderly sequence in two divisions: first, those which\npertain to certain days and seasons; second, those relating to the\nmost conspicuous events in common human life, courtship, marriage, and\ndeath.\n\nBeginning with the year: there is in Glamorganshire a New Year's Day\ncustom of great antiquity and large present observance, called the\napple gift, or New Year's gift. In every town and village you will\nencounter children, on and about New Year's Day, going from door to\ndoor of shops and houses, bearing an apple or an orange curiously\ntricked out. Three sticks in the form of a tripod are thrust into it\nto serve as a rest; its sides are smeared with flour or meal, and\nstuck over with oats or wheat, or bits of broken lucifer matches to\nrepresent oats; its top is covered with thyme or other sweet\nevergreen, and a skewer is inserted in one side as a handle to hold it\nby. In its perfection, this piece of work is elaborate; but it is now\noften a decrepit affair, in the larger towns, where the New Year is\nwelcomed (as at Cardiff) by a midnight chorus of steam-whistles.\n\n  [Illustration: THE NEW YEAR'S APPLE.]\n\nThe Christian symbolism of this custom is supposed to relate to the\noffering, by the Wise Men, of gold, frankincense, and myrrh to the\ninfant Jesus. The older interpretation, however, takes the custom back\nto the Druidic days, and makes it a form of the solar myth. In the\nthree supporting sticks of the apple are seen the three rays of the\nsun, /|\\, the mystic Name of the Creator; the apple is the round sun\nitself; the evergreens represent its perennial life; and the grains of\nwheat, or oats, Avagddu's spears. Avagddu is the evil principle of\ndarkness--hell, or the devil--with which the sun fights throughout the\nwinter for the world's life.\n\nThousands of children in Wales seek to win from their elders a New\nYear's copper by exhibiting the apple gift, or by singing in chorus\ntheir good wishes. A popular verse on this occasion hopes the hearer\nwill be blessed with an abundance of money in his pocket and of beer\nin his cellar, and draws attention to the singers' thin shoes and the\nbad character of the walking. In many cases the juvenile population\nparades the street all night, sometimes with noisy fife bands, which\nfollow the death knell, as it sounds from the old church tower, with\nshrill peals of a merrier if not more musical sort.\n\nIn Pembrokeshire, to rise early on New Year's morning is considered\nluck-bringing. On that morning also it is deemed wise to bring a fresh\nloaf into the house, with the superstition that the succession of\nloaves throughout the year will be influenced by that incident. A\nrigid quarantine is also set up, to see that no female visitor cross\nthe threshold first on New Year's morning; that a male visitor shall\nbe the first to do so is a lucky thing, and the reverse unlucky. A\nsuperstition resembling this prevails to this day in America among\nshowmen. 'There's no showman on the road,' said an American manager of\nmy acquaintance, 'who would think of letting a lady be first to pass\nthrough the doors when opening them for a performance. There's a sort\nof feeling that it brings ill-luck. Then there are cross-eyed people;\nmany a veteran ticket-seller loses all heart when one presents himself\nat the ticket-window. A cross-eyed patron and a bad house generally go\ntogether. A cross-eyed performer would be a regular Jonah. With\ncircuses there is a superstition that a man with a yellow clarionet\nbrings bad luck.' Another well-known New York manager in a recent\nconversation assured me that to open an umbrella in a new play is\ndeemed certain failure for the piece. An umbrella may be carried\nclosed with impunity, but it must not be opened unless the author\ndesire to court failure. The Chinese have the Pembrokeshire\nsuperstition exactly, as regards the first foot on New Year's Day.\nThey consider a woman peculiarly unlucky as a first foot after the New\nYear has begun, but a Buddhist priest is even more unlucky than a\nwoman, in this light.[113]\n\nAnother Pembrokeshire custom on New Year's morning is quaint and\ninteresting. As soon as it is light, children of the peasantry hasten\nto provide a small cup of pure spring water, just from the well, and\ngo about sprinkling the faces of those they meet, with the aid of a\nsprig of evergreen. At the same time they sing the following verses:\n\n    Here we bring new water from the well so clear,\n    For to worship God with, this happy new year;\n    Sing levy dew, sing levy dew, the water and the wine,\n    With seven bright gold wires, and bugles that do shine;\n    Sing reign of fair maid, with gold upon her toe;\n    Open you the west door and turn the old year go;\n    Sing reign of fair maid, with gold upon her chin;\n    Open you the east door and let the new year in!\n\nThis custom also is still observed extensively. The words 'levy dew'\nare deemed an English version of Llef i Dduw, (a cry to God).\n\nA Welsh song sung on New Year's Day, in Glamorganshire, by boys in\nchorus, somewhat after the Christmas carol fashion, is this:\n\n    Blwyddyn newydd dda i chwi,\n    Gwyliau llawen i chwi,\n    Meistr a meistres bob un trwy'r ty,\n    Gwyliau llawen i chwi,\n    Codwch yn foreu, a rheswch y tan,\n    A cherddwch i'r ffynon i ymofyn dwr glan.\n\n    A happy new year to you,\n    Merry be your holidays,\n    Master and mistress--every one in the house;\n    Arise in the morning; bestir the fire,\n    And go to the well to fetch fresh water.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[113] Dennys, 'Folk-Lore of China,' 31.\n\n\nIII.\n\nAmong Twelfth Night customs, none is more celebrated than that called\nMary Lwyd. It prevails in various parts of Wales, notably in lower\nGlamorganshire. The skeleton of a horse's head is procured by the\nyoung men or boys of a village, and adorned with 'favours' of pink,\nblue, yellow, etc. These are generally borrowed from the girls, as it\nis not considered necessary the silken fillets and rosettes should be\nnew, and such finery costs money. The bottoms of two black bottles are\ninserted in the sockets of the skeleton head to serve as eyes, and a\nsubstitute for ears is also contrived. On Twelfth Night they carry\nthis object about from house to house, with shouts and songs, and a\ngeneral cultivation of noise and racket. Sometimes a duet is sung in\nWelsh, outside a door, the singers begging to be invited in; if the\ndoor be not opened they tap on it, and there is frequently quite a\nseries of _awen_ sung, the parties within denying the outsiders\nadmission, and the outsiders urging the same. At last the door is\nopened, when in bounces the merry crowd, among them the Mary Lwyd,\nborne by one personating a horse, who is led by another personating\nthe groom. The horse chases the girls around the room, capering and\nneighing, while the groom cries, 'So ho, my boy--gently, poor fellow!'\nand the girls, of course, scream with merriment. A dance follows--a\nreel, performed by three young men, tricked out with ribbons. The\ncompany is then regaled with cakes and ale, and the revellers depart,\npausing outside the door to sing a parting song of thanks and good\nwishes to their entertainers.\n\nThe penglog (a skull, a noddle) is a similar custom peculiar to\nAberconwy (Conway) in Carnarvonshire. In this case the horse's skull\nis an attention particularly bestowed upon prudes.\n\nMary Lwyd may mean Pale Mary, or Wan Mary, or Hoary Mary, but the\npresumption is that it means in this case Blessed Mary, and that the\ncustom is of papal origin. There is, however, a tradition which links\nthe custom with enchantment, in connection with a warlike princess,\nreputed to have flourished in Gwent and Morganwg in the early ages,\nand who is to be seen to this day, mounted on her steed, on a rock in\nRhymney Dingle.[114]\n\nThe cutty wren is a Pembrokeshire Twelfth Night custom prevailing\ncommonly during the last century, but now nearly extinct. A wren was\nplaced in a little house of paper, with glass windows, and this was\nhoisted on four poles, one at each corner. Four men bore it about,\nsinging a very long ballad, of which one stanza will be enough:\n\n  [Music:\n    O! where are you go-ing? says Mil-der to\n    Mel-der, O! where are you go-ing? says the youn-ger to the\n    el-der; O! I can-not tell, says Fes-tel to Fose; We're\n    go-ing to the woods, said John the Red Nose, We're\n    go-ing to the woods, said John the Red Nose!]\n\nThe immediate purpose of this rite was to levy contributions. Another\nsuch custom was called 'tooling,' and its purpose was beer. It\nconsisted in calling at the farm-houses and pretending to look for\none's tools behind the beer cask. 'I've left my saw behind your beer\ncask,' a carpenter would say; 'my whip,' a carter; and received the\ntool by proxy, in the shape of a cup of ale. The female portion of the\npoorer sort, on the other hand, practised what was called sowling,\nviz., asking for 'sowl,' and receiving, accordingly, any food eaten\nwith bread, such as cheese, fish, or meat. This custom is still\nmaintained, and 'sowling day' fills many a poor woman's bag. The\nphrase is supposed to be from the French _soul_, signifying one's\nfill.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[114] Vide W. Roberts's 'Crefydd yr Oesoedd Tywyll,' 1.\n\n\nIV.\n\nConnected with St. Valentine's Day, there is no Welsh custom which\ndemands notice here; but it is perhaps worthy of mention that nowhere\nin the world is the day more abundantly productive of its orthodox\ncrop--love-letters. The post-offices in the Principality are simply\ndeluged with these missives on the eve and morning of St. Valentine's.\nIn Cardiff the postmaster thinks himself lucky if he gets off with\nfifteen thousand letters in excess of the ordinary mail. Nineteen\nextra sorters and carriers were employed for this work on February\n14th, 1878, and the regular force also was heavily worked beyond its\nusual hours. The custom is more Norman than Cambrian, I suppose; the\nword Valentine comes from the Norman word for a lover, and the saint\nis a mere accident in this connection.\n\n\nV.\n\nSt. Dewi is to the Welsh what St. George is to the English, St. Andrew\nto the Scotch, and St. Patrick to the Irish. His day is celebrated on\nthe 1st of March throughout Wales, and indeed throughout the world\nwhere Welshmen are. In some American ports (perhaps all) the British\nconsulate displays its flag in honour of the day. In Wales there are\nprocessions, grand dinners; places of business are closed; the poor\nare banqueted; speeches are made and songs are sung. The most\ncharacteristic feature of the day is the wearing of the leek. This\nfeature is least conspicuous, it may be noted, in those parts of Wales\nwhere the English residents are fewest, and least of all in the\nultra-Welsh shires of Cardigan and Carmarthen, where St. David is\npeculiarly honoured. The significance of this fact no doubt lies in\nthe absence of any necessity for asserting a Cambrianism which there\nare none to dispute. In the border towns, every Welshman who desires\nto assert his national right wears the leek in his hat or elsewhere on\nhis person; but in the shadow of St. David's College at Lampeter, not\na leek is seen on St. Dewi's Day. In Glamorganshire may be found the\norder of Knights of the Leek, who hold high festival on the 1st of\nevery March, gathering in the Welsh bards and men of letters.\n\nWhy is the leek worn? Practically, because the wearer is a Welshman\nwho honours tradition. But the precise origin of the custom is\ninvolved in an obscurity from which emerge several curious and\ninteresting traditions. The verses cited at the opening of this Part\nrefer to one of these; they are quoted by Manby[115] without other\ncredit than 'a very antient manuscript.' Another tradition is thus\ngiven in a pamphlet of 1642:[116] 'S. David when hee always went into\nthe field in Martiall exercise he carried a Leek with him, and once\nbeing almost faint to death, he immediately remembred himself of the\nLeek, and by that means not only preserved his life but also became\nvictorious: hence is the Mythologie of the Leek derived.' The practice\nis traced by another writer[117] to 'the custom of Cymhortha, or the\nneighbourly aid practised among farmers, which is of various kinds.\nIn some districts of South Wales all the neighbours of a small farmer\nwithout means appoint a day when they all attend to plough his land,\nand the like; and at such a time it is a custom for each individual to\nbring his portion of leeks, to be used in making pottage for the whole\ncompany; and they bring nothing else but the leeks in particular for\nthe occasion.' Some find the true origin of the custom in Druidical\ndays, but their warrant is not clear, nor how it came to be associated\nwith the 1st of March in that case. The military origin bears down the\nscale of testimony, and gives the leek the glory of a Cambrian victory\nas its consecrator to ornamental purposes. Whether this victory was\nover the Saxon or the Gaul does not exactly appear; some traditions\nsay one, some the other. The battle of Poictiers has been named; also\nthat of Cressy, where the Welsh archers did good service with the\nEnglish against a common enemy; but an older tradition is to the\neffect that the Saxon was the foe. The invaders had assumed the dress\nof the Britons, that they might steal upon them unsuspected; but St.\nDavid ordered the Welshmen to stick leeks in their caps as a badge of\ndistinction. This he did merely because there was a large field of\nleeks growing near the British camp. The precaution gave the day to\nthe favoured of St. Dewi.\n\nIt cannot be denied that there have been found Englishmen rude enough\nto ridicule this honourable and ancient custom of the Welsh, though\nwhy they should do so there is no good reason. The leek is not\nfragrant, perhaps; but if an old custom must smell sweet or be laughed\nat, there is work enough for our risibles in every English parish.\nThe following is one of the foolish legends of the English respecting\nthe leek: 'The Welsh in olden days were so infested by ourang outangs\nthat they could obtain no peace day or night, and not being themselves\nable to extirpate them they invited the English to assist, who came;\nbut through mistake killed several of the Welsh, so that in order to\ndistinguish them from the monkeys they desired them to stick a leek in\ntheir hats.' The author of this ridiculous tale deserves the fate of\nPistol, whom Fluellen compelled to eat his leek, skin and all.\n\n    _Flu._ I peseech you heartily, scurvy lowsy knave, at my\n    desires, and my requests, and my petitions, to eat, look\n    you, this leek; because, look you, you do not love it, nor\n    your affections, and your appetites, and your digestions,\n    does not agree with it, I would desire you to eat it.\n\n    _Pist._ Not for Cadwallader, and all his goats.\n\n    _Flu._ There is one goat for you. [_Strikes him._] Will you\n    be so good, scald knave, as eat it?\n\n    _Pist._ Base Trojan, thou shalt die.\n\n    _Flu._ You say very true, scald knave, when Got's will is: I\n    will desire you to live in the meantime, and eat your\n    victuals.... If you can mock a leek you can eat a leek....\n\n    _Pist._ Quiet thy cudgel; thou dost see, I eat.\n\n    _Flu._ Much goot do you, scald knave, heartily. Nay, 'pray\n    you, throw none away; the skin is goot for your proken\n    coxcomb. When you take occasions to see leeks hereafter, I\n    pray you, mock at them! that is all.[118]\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[115] 'Hist. and Ant. of the Parish of St. David,' 54.\n\n[116] 'The Welchmen's Ivbilee to the honour of St. David, shewing the\nmanner of that solemn celebration which the Welchmen annually hold in\nhonour of St. David, describing likewise the trve and reall cause why\nthey wear that day a _Leek_ on their Hats, with an excellent merry\nSonnet annexed unto it, composed by T. Morgan Gent. London. Printed\nfor I. Harrison.'\n\n[117] Owen, 'Camb. Biog.' 86.\n\n[118] Shaks., 'K. Henry V.,' Act V., Sc. 1.\n\n\nVI.\n\nThe traditional St. David is a brilliant figure in Welsh story; with\nthe historical character this work has not to deal. The legendary\naccount of him represents a man of gigantic stature and fabulous\nbeauty, whose age at his death was 147 years. He was a direct\ndescendant of the sister of the Virgin Mary, and his first miracles\nwere performed while he was yet unborn. In this condition he regulated\nthe diet of his virgin mother, and struck dumb a preacher who\npresumed to preach in her presence. At the hour of his birth St. Dewi\nperformed a miracle; another when he was baptized; and he was taught\nhis lessons (at a place called The Old Bush, in South Wales) by a\npigeon with a golden beak, which played about his lips. As he grew up,\nhis miraculous powers waxed stronger; and magicians who opposed him\nwere destroyed by fire which he called from heaven to consume them.\nThirsty, a fountain rose in Glyn Hodnant at his call, and from this\nfountain ran not water but good wine. When he went about the country\nhe was always accompanied by an angel. On the banks of the river\nTeify, a miserable woman wept over her son who lay dead; she appealed\nto Dewi, who laid hold of the boy's right hand and he arose from the\ndead as if from a sleep. At Llandewi Brefi, in Cardiganshire, as he\nwas preaching on the surface of the flat ground, the ground rose as a\nhigh mount under his feet, so that the people all about could see him\nas well as hear him. A labourer lifted his pickaxe to strike a friend\nof Dewi's, which the saint seeing from afar off, raised his hand and\nwilled that the labourer's hand should become stiff--which it did.\nAnother friend, going away to Ireland, forgot and left behind him a\nlittle bell that Dewi had given him; but Dewi sent the bell across the\nsea by an angel, so that it arrived there next day without the aid of\nhuman hands. And finally, having made up his mind that he would die\nand go to heaven, he did so--but quite of his own will--at his own\nrequest, so to speak. Having asked that his soul might be taken, an\nangel informed him it would be taken on the first of March proximo. So\nDavid bade his friends good-bye on the 28th of February, greatly to\ntheir distress. 'Alas!' they cried, 'the earth will not swallow us!\nAlas! fire will not consume us! Alas! the sea will not come over the\nland! Alas! the mountains will not fall to cover us!' On Tuesday\nnight, as the cocks were crowing, a host of angels thronged the\nstreets of the city, and filled it with joy and mirth; and Dewi died.\n'The angels took his soul to the place where there is light without\nend, and rest without labour, and joy without sorrow, and plenty of\nall good things, and victory, and brightness, and beauty.' There Abel\nis with the martyrs, Noah is with the sailors, Thomas is with the\nIndians, Peter is with the apostles, Paul is with the Greeks, other\nsaints are with other suitable persons, and David is with the\nkings.[119]\n\nOn the summit which rose under St. Dewi while he stood on it and\npreached, now stands St. David's church, at Llandewi Brefi. In the\ndays of its glory--i.e. during nearly the whole period of Roman\nCatholic rule--it was renowned beyond all others in Britain. To go\ntwice to St. David's was deemed equal to going once to Rome, and a\nsuperstitious belief prevailed that every man must go to St. David's\nonce, either alive or dead. William the Conqueror marched through\nWales in hostile array in 1080, but arriving at St. David's shrine\nlaid aside the warrior for the votary.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[119] 'Cambro-British Saints,' 402, etc.\n\n\nVII.\n\nSt. Patrick's Day is celebrated in Wales with much enthusiasm. The\nWelsh believe that St. Patrick was a Welshman. Born at Llandeilo\nTalybont, in Glamorganshire, and educated at the famous college of\nLlantwit Major, he held St. David's place till the coming of Dewi was\nannounced to him; then he went into Ireland, to do missionary work,\nas it were. This is the monastic tale. Patrick was comfortably settled\nin the valley of Rosina, and intended to pass his life there, but an\nangel came to him and said, 'Thou must leave this place to one who is\nnot yet born.' Patrick was annoyed, even angered, but obedient, and\nwent off to Ireland, where he became a great man.[120] The story of\nthe Iolo MSS., however, presents the matter in a different light:\n'About A.D. 420 the Island of Britain seemed to have neither ruler nor\nproprietor.' The Irish took advantage of this state of things to\ninvade and oppress Britain, robbing her of corn, cattle, 'and every\nother moveable property that they could lay their hands on.' Among\nother things, they stole away St. Patrick from the college at Llantwit\nMajor, 'whence that college became destitute of a principal and\nteacher for more than forty years, and fell into dilapidation'--a\ncondition it remains in at present, by the way. 'Patrick never\nreturned to Wales, choosing rather to reside in Ireland; having\nascertained that the Irish were better people than the Welsh, in those\ntimes.'[121] Still, it is not the native Welsh who are as a rule the\ncelebrators of St. Patrick's Day in Wales.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[120] 'Cambro-British Saints,' 403.\n\n[121] Iolo MSS., 455.\n\n\nVIII.\n\nShrove Tuesday was once characterised by a custom called throwing at\ncocks, now obsolete. Hens which had laid no eggs before that day were\nthreshed with a flail, as being good for nothing. The person who hit\nthe hen with the flail and killed her got her for his reward.\n\nThe more reputable custom of cramming with crammwythau (pancakes)\nstill survives, and is undoubtedly of extreme antiquity.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\n    Sundry Lenten Customs--Mothering Sunday--Palm\n    Sunday--Flowering Sunday--Walking Barefoot to\n    Church--Spiritual Potency of Buns--Good Friday\n    Superstitions--Making Christ's Bed--Bad Odour of\n    Friday--Unlucky Days--Holy Thursday--The Eagle of\n    Snowdon--New Clothing at Easter--Lifting--The Crown of\n    Porcelain--Stocsio--Ball-Playing in Churchyards--The Tump of\n    Lies--Dancing in Churchyards--Seeing the Sun Dance--Calan\n    Ebrill, or All Fools' Day--May Day--The Welsh Maypole--The\n    Daughter of Lludd Llaw Ereint--Carrying the Kings of Summer\n    and Winter.\n\n\nI.\n\nWearing mourning throughout Lent was formerly common in Wales. In\nMonmouthshire, Mothering Sunday--the visiting of parents on Mid-Lent\nSunday--was observed in the last century, but is nowhere popular in\nWales at present. Palm Sunday takes precedence among the Welsh, and is\nvery extensively and enthusiastically observed. The day is called\nFlowering Sunday, and its peculiar feature is strewing the graves of\nthe dead with flowers. The custom reaches all classes, and all parts\nof the Principality. In the large towns, as Cardiff, many thousands of\npeople gather at the graves. The custom is associated with the\nstrewing of palms before Christ on his entry into Jerusalem, but was\nobserved by the British Druids in celebration of the awakening life of\nthe earth at this season.\n\n\nII.\n\nIn Pembrokeshire, it was customary up to the close of the last\ncentury, to walk barefoot to church on Good Friday, as had been done\nsince times prior to the Reformation. The old people and the young\njoined in this custom, which they said was done so as not to 'disturb\nthe earth.' All business was suspended, and no horse nor cart was to\nbe seen in the town.\n\nHot-cross buns also figured in a peculiar manner at this time. They\nwere eaten in Tenby after the return from church. After having tied up\na certain number in a bag, the folk hung them in the kitchen, where\nthey remained till the next Good Friday, for use as medicine. It was\nbelieved that persons labouring under any disease had only to eat a\nportion of a bun to be cured. The buns so preserved were used also as\na panacea for all the diseases of domestic animals. They were further\nbelieved to be serviceable in frightening away goblins of an evil\nsort.\n\nThat these buns are of Christian invention is the popular belief, and\nindeed this notion is not altogether exploded among the more\nintelligent classes. Their connection with the cross of the Saviour is\npossible by adoption--as the early Christians adopted many pagan rites\nand customs--but that they date back to pre-historic times there is\nabundant testimony.\n\nInnumerable are the superstitious customs and beliefs associated with\nGood Friday. In Pembrokeshire there was a custom called 'making\nChrist's bed.' A quantity of long reeds were gathered from the river\nand woven into the shape of a man. This effigy was then stretched on a\nwooden cross, and laid in some retired field or garden, and left\nthere.\n\nThe birth of a child on that day is very unlucky--indeed a birth on\nany Friday of the whole year is to be deprecated as a most unfortunate\ncircumstance.\n\n\nIII.\n\nThe bad odour in which Friday is everywhere held is naturally\nassociated, among Christians, with the crucifixion; but this will not\naccount for the existence of a like superstition regarding Friday\namong the Brahmins of India, nor for the prevalence of other lucky and\nunlucky days among both Aryan and Mongolian peoples. In the Middle\nAges Monday and Tuesday were unlucky days. A Welshman who lived some\ntime in Russia, tells me Monday is deemed a very unlucky day there, on\nwhich no business must be begun. In some English districts Thursday is\nthe unlucky day. In Norway it is lucky, especially for marrying. In\nSouth Wales, Friday is the fairies' day, when they have special\ncommand over the weather; and it is their whim to make the weather on\nFriday differ from that of the other days of the week. 'When the rest\nof the week is fair, Friday is apt to be rainy, or cloudy; and when\nthe weather is foul, Friday is apt to be more fair.'\n\nThe superstitious prejudice of the quarrymen in North Wales regarding\nHoly Thursday has been cited. It is not a reverential feeling, but a\npurely superstitious one, and has pervaded the district from ancient\ntimes. It has been supposed that Thursday was a sacred day among the\nDruids. There is a vulgar tradition (mentioned by Giraldus), that\nSnowdon mountains are frequented by an eagle, which perches on a fatal\nstone on every Thursday and whets her beak upon it, expecting a battle\nto occur, upon which she may satiate her hunger with the carcases of\nthe slain; but the battle is ever deferred, and the stone has become\nalmost perforated with the eagle's sharpening her beak upon it. There\nmay perhaps be a connection traced between these superstitions and the\nlightning-god Thor, whose day Thursday was.\n\n\nIV.\n\nEaster is marked by some striking customs. It is deemed essential for\none's well-being that some new article of dress shall be donned at\nthis time, though it be nothing more than a new ribbon. This is also a\nHampshire superstition. A servant of mine, born in Hampshire, used\nalways to say, 'If you don't have on something new Easter Sunday the\ndogs will spit at you.' This custom is associated with Easter baptism,\nwhen a new life was assumed by the baptized, clothed in righteousness\nas a garment. A ceremony called 'lifting' is peculiar to North Wales\non Easter Monday and Tuesday. On the Monday bands of men go about with\na chair, and meeting a woman in the street compel her to sit, and be\nlifted three times in the air amidst their cheers: she is then invited\nto bestow a small compliment on her entertainers. This performance is\nkept up till twelve o'clock, when it ceases. On Easter Tuesday the\nwomen take their turn, and go about in like manner lifting the men. It\nhas been conjectured that in this custom an allusion to the\nresurrection is intended.\n\n  [Illustration: LIFTING. (_From an old drawing._)]\n\nA custom, the name of which is now lost, was that the village belle\nshould on Easter Eve and Easter Tuesday carry on her head a piece of\nchinaware of curious shape, made expressly for this purpose, and\nuseless for any other. It may be described as a circular crown of\nporcelain, the points whereof were cups and candles. The cups were\nsolid details of the crown: the candles were stuck with clay upon the\nspaces between the cups. The cups were filled with a native beverage\ncalled bragawd, and the candles were lighted. To drink the liquor\nwithout burning yourself or the damsel at the candle was the\ndifficulty involved in this performance. A stanza was sung by the\nyoung woman's companions, the last line of which was,\n\n    Rhag i'r feinwen losgi ei thalcen.\n    (Lest the maiden burn her forehead.[122])\n\nStocsio is an Easter Monday custom observed from time immemorial in\nthe town of Aberconwy, and still practised there in 1835. On Easter\nSunday crowds of men and boys carrying wands of gorse went to Pen\nTwthil, and there proclaimed the laws and regulations of the following\nday. They were to this effect: all men under sixty to be up and out\nbefore 6 A.M.; all under forty, before 4 A.M.; all under twenty, to\nstay up all night. Penalty for disobedience: the stocks. The crier who\ndelivered this proclamation was the man last married in the town\nprevious to Easter Sunday. Other like rules were proclaimed, amid loud\ncheers. Early next morning a party, headed by a fife and drum,\npatrolled the town with a cart, in search of delinquents. When one was\ndiscovered, he was hauled from his bed and made to dress himself; then\nput in the cart and dragged to the stocks. His feet being secured\ntherein, he was duly lectured on the sin of laziness, and of breaking\nan ancient law of the town by lying abed in violation thereof. His\nright hand was then taken, and he was asked a lot of absurd questions,\nsuch as 'Which do you like best, the mistress or the maid?' 'Which do\nyou prefer, ale or buttermilk?' 'If the gate of a field were open,\nwould you go through it, or over the stile?' and the like. His answers\nbeing received with derision, his hand was smeared with mud, and he\nwas then released amid cheers. 'This sport, which would be\nimpracticable in a larger and less intimate community, is continued\nwith the greatest good humour until eight; when the rest of the day is\nspent in playing ball at the Castle.'[123]\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[122] 'Arch. Camb.' 4 Se., iii., 334.\n\n[123] 'Hist. and Ant. of Aberconwy,' 108.\n\n\nV.\n\nBall-playing against the walls of the church between hours of service\nwas a fashion of Easter which is within recollection. It was also\ncommon on the Sabbath day itself in many parishes, in the days when\ndissent was unknown and parishioners had long distances to traverse on\na Sunday; 'and that, too, with the sanction of the clergyman, and even\nhis personal superintendence. Old people can remember such a state of\nthings, when the clergyman gave notice that the game must cease by\nputting the ball into his pocket and marched his young friends into\nchurch.'[124] Nowhere less than in a custom like this would the\nordinary observer look for traditionary significance; yet there is no\ndoubt our Easter eggs are but another surviving form of the same\nancient rite. Before the Reformation there was a Church of England\ncustom of playing ball _in_ church at Easter, according to Dr.\nFosbrooke, the dean and clergy participating.\n\nThere were other sports and pastimes common alike to Easter and to the\nSabbath day, which are full of curious interest. Some of them no doubt\narose out of the social exigencies of sparsely settled neighbourhoods,\nwhich caused people to remain at the church between services, instead\nof returning to distant homes; but a Druidic origin seems necessary to\naccount for others. That the people should between services gather\nnear the church to talk over the gossip of the day, is natural enough,\nand is a phenomenon which may still be witnessed in remote parts of\nthe United States. In St. Dogmell's parish, Pembrokeshire, there is a\ntump which bears the name of 'Cnwc y Celwydd,' videlicet, the Tump of\nLies. Here were men and women formerly in the habit of gathering\ntogether on the Lord's day in great crowds, and entertaining each\nother with the inventing and telling of the most lying and wonderful\nyarns they could conjure up with the aid of an imagination spurred to\nexercise by rivalry and applause. The custom is discontinued; but\nthere is still hardly a neighbourhood in Wales so rich in tales of\nfairies and other goblins.\n\nThe custom of dancing in churchyards was common in many parts of the\nPrincipality in the early part of this century. At Aberedwy, Malkin\nsaw a large yew tree in the churchyard under which as many as sixty\ncouples had been seen dancing at once.[125] The dancing was not in\nthat part of the yard consecrated to the dead, but on the north side\nof the church, where it was not the custom to bury. A tradition is\npreserved by Giraldus of a solemn festival dance which took place in\nthe churchyard at St. Almedha's church, Breconshire, on that saint's\nday. The dance was 'led round the churchyard with a song,' and\nsucceeded by the dancers falling down in a trance, followed by a sort\nof religious frenzy. This is believed to have been a Druidical rite,\ndescribed on hearsay by Giraldus, and embellished by him with those\npious inventions not uncommon in his day.\n\nOne of the customs of Easter, at a comparatively recent period in\nWales, was getting the children up early in the morning to see the sun\ndance. This exercise the sun was said to perform at rising on Easter\nDay, in honour of the rising of our Lord. The sun was sometimes aided\nin this performance by a bowl of clear water, into which the youth\nmust look to see the orb dance, as it would be dangerous to look\ndirectly on the sun while thus engaged. The religious dance of the\nancient Druids is believed to exist in modern times in a round dance\nwherein the figures imitate the motions of the sun and moon. The\nball-playing in church mentioned above was also accompanied by\ndancing.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[124] 'Arch. Camb.' 4 Se., iii., 333.\n\n[125] Malkin's 'South Wales,' 281.\n\n\nVI.\n\nThe first of April is in Welsh called Calan Ebrill, and an April Fool\na Ffwl Ebrill; the similarity of English and Welsh words may be said\nto typify the similarity of observance. The universality of this\nobservance among Aryan peoples would certainly indicate an origin in a\ntime preceding the dispersion of the human family over the world. The\nDruids, tradition says, celebrated the revival of Nature's powers in a\nfestival which culminated on the first of April in the most hilarious\nfoolery. The Roman Saturnalia or feast of fools perpetuated the rite,\nthough the purpose of the Christian revelry may quite possibly have\nbeen to ridicule the Druidic ceremonies.\n\nThe festivities of May-day are in like manner associated with the\npowers of Nature, whose vigour and productiveness were symbolized by\nthe Maypole round which village lads and lasses danced. The rites of\nlove were variously celebrated at this time, and some of these customs\nlocally have long survived the Maypole itself. The ordinance for the\ndestruction of Maypoles in England and Wales, printed in 1644,\ndeclared them 'a heathenish vanity, generally abused to superstition\nand wickedness,' wherefore it was ordained that they should be\ndestroyed, and that no Maypole should thereafter be 'set up, erected,\nor suffered to be within this kingdom of England or dominion of\nWales.'\n\nThe Maypole in Wales was called Bedwen, because it was always made of\nbirch, bedw, a tree still associated with the gentler emotions. To\ngive a lover a birchen branch, is for a maiden to accept his\naddresses; to give him a collen, or hazel, the reverse. Games of\nvarious sorts were played around the bedwen. The fame of a village\ndepended on its not being stolen away, and parties were constantly on\nthe alert to steal the bedwen, a feat which, when accomplished, was\ncelebrated with peculiar festivities. This rivalry for the possession\nof the Maypole was probably typical of the ancient idea that the first\nof May was the boundary day dividing the confines of winter and\nsummer, when a fight took place between the powers of the air, on the\none hand striving to continue the reign of winter, on the other to\nestablish that of summer. Here may be cited the Mabinogi of Kilhwch\nand Olwen, where it speaks of the daughter of Lludd Llaw Ereint. 'She\nwas the most splendid maiden in the three Islands of the Mighty, and\nin the three Islands adjacent,' and for her does Gwyn ap Nudd, the\nfairy king, fight every first of May till the day of doom.[126] She\nwas to have been the bride of Gwythyr, the son of Greidawl, when Gwyn\nap Nudd carried her off by force. The bereaved bridegroom followed,\nand there was a bloody struggle, in which Gwyn was victorious, and\nwhich he signalized by an act of frightful cruelty; he slew an old\nwarrior, took out his heart from his breast, and constrained the\nwarrior's son to eat the heart of his father. When Arthur heard of\nthis he summoned Gwyn ap Nudd before him, and deprived him of the\nfruits of his victory. But he condemned the two combatants to fight\nfor the radiant maiden henceforth for ever on every first of May till\ndoomsday; the victor on that day to possess the maiden.[127]\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[126] 'Mabinogion,' 229.\n\n[127] 'Mabinogion,' 251.\n\n\nVII.\n\nIn the remote and primitive parish of Defynog, in Breconshire, until a\nfew years since, a custom survived of carrying the King of Summer and\nthe King of Winter. Two boys were chosen to serve as the two kings,\nand were covered all over with a dress of brigau bedw, (birchen\nboughs,) only their faces remaining visible. A coin was tossed and the\nboy chosen was the summer king; a crown of bright-hued ribbons was put\nupon his head. Upon the other boy's head was placed a crown of holly,\nto designate the winter king. Then a procession was formed, headed by\ntwo men with drawn swords to clear the way. Four men supported the\nsummer king upon two poles, one under his knees and the other under\nhis arms; and four others bore the winter king in a similar\nundignified posture. The procession passed round the village and to\nthe farm-houses near by, collecting largess of coin or beer, winding\nup the perambulation at the churchyard. Here the boys were set free,\nand received a dole for their services, the winter king getting less\nthan the other.\n\nAnother May-day custom among the boys of that parish, was to carry\nabout a rod, from which the bark had been partly peeled in a spiral\nform, and upon the top of which was set either a cock or a cross, the\nbearers waking the echoes of the village with 'Yo ho! yo ho! yo\nho!'[128]\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[128] 'Arch. Camb.,' 2 Se., iv., 326.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\n    Midsummer Eve--The Druidic Ceremonies at Pontypridd--The\n    Snake Stone--Beltane Fires--Fourth of July Fires in\n    America--St. Ulric's Day--Carrying Cynog--Marketing on\n    Tombstones--The First Night of Winter--The Three Nights for\n    Spirits--The Tale of Thomas Williams the Preacher--All\n    Hallows Eve Festivities--Running through Fire--Quaint Border\n    Rhymes--The Puzzling Jug--Bobbing for Apples--The Fiery\n    Features of Guy Fawkes' Day--St. Clement's Day--Stripping\n    the Carpenter.\n\n\nI.\n\nMidsummer Eve, or St. John's Eve (June 23rd), is one of the ancient\nDruidic festivals, still liberally honoured in Wales. The custom of\nlighting bonfires survives in some of the villages, and at Pontypridd\nthere are ceremonies of a solemn sort. Midsummer Eve, in 1878, fell on\na Sunday. Upon that day the 'Druids and bards' at Pontypridd held the\nusual feast of the summer solstice in the face of the sun. There is a\nbreezy common on the top of a high hill overlooking the town, where\nstand a logan stone and a circle of upright stones constituting the\n'temple of the Druids.' Here it is the custom of the present-day\nadherents of that ancient religion, beside which Christianity is an\ninfant, to celebrate their rites 'within the folds of the serpent,' a\ncircle marked with the signs of the zodiac. The venerable archdruid,\nMyfyr Morganwg, stands on the logan stone, with a mistletoe sprig in\nhis button-hole, and prays to the god Kali, 'creator of sun, moon,\nstars, and universe.' Then the white-bearded old man delivers a\ndiscourse, and new members are initiated into the 'mysteries,'\nOccasionally these new members are Americans from over the sea, and\nthey include both sexes. Large crowds gather to witness the impressive\nspectacle--a shadow of the ancient rites when from Belenian heights\nflamed high the sacrificial fires. It was a former belief that these\nfires protected the lands within their light from the machinations of\nsorcery, so that good crops would follow, and that their ashes were\nvaluable as a medicinal charm.\n\nThe Snake-stone is another striking Welsh tradition, associated with\nMidsummer eve. At this time of the year there are certain convocations\nof snakes, which, hissing sociably together among one another, hiss\nforth a mystic bubble, which hardens into the semblance of a glass\nring. The finder of this ring is a lucky man, for all his undertakings\nwill prosper while he retains it. These rings are called Gleiniau\nNadroedd in Welsh--snake-stones in English. They are supposed to have\nbeen used by the ancient Druids as charms. There is a Welsh saying,\nrespecting people who lay their heads together in conversation, that\nthe talkers are 'blowing the gem.'\n\n\nII.\n\nThe traditions connected with the Beltane fires are very interesting,\nbut the subject has received so much attention in published volumes\nthat it need not here be dwelt upon. The lad who in the United States\ncapers around a bonfire on the night of Independence Day has not a\nsuspicion that he is imitating the rites of an antiquity the most\nremote; that in burning a heap of barrels and boxes in a public square\nthe celebrators of the American Fourth of July imitate the priests who\nthus worshipped the sun-god Beal. The origins of our most familiar\ncustoms are constantly being discovered in such directions as this.\nOn the face of the thing, nothing could be more absurd as a mode of\njollification, in a little American town, with its wooden\narchitecture, on a hot night in the midst of summer, than building a\nroaring fire to make the air still hotter and endanger the surrounding\nhouses. The reason for the existence of such a custom must be sought\nin another land and another time; had reflection governed the matter,\ninstead of tradition, the American anniversary would have found some\nmore fitting means of celebration than Druidic fires and Chinese\ncharms. (For it may be mentioned further, in this connection, that the\nfire-crackers of our urchins are quite as superstitious in their\noriginal purpose as the bonfire is. In China, even to this day,\nfire-crackers are charms pure and simple, their office to drive away\nevil spirits, their use as a means of jollification quite unknown to\ntheir inventors.) A far more sensible Midsummer rite, especially in a\nhot country, would have been to adopt the custom of St. Ulric's day,\nand eat fish. This saint's day falls on the fourth of July, and\nBarnabe Googe's translation of Naogeorgius has this couplet concerning\nit:\n\n    Wheresoeuer Huldryche hath his place, the people there brings in\n    Both carpes and pykes, and mullets fat, his fauour here to win.\n\n\nIII.\n\nThe Welsh saint called Cynog was one of the numberless children of\nthat famous old patriarch Brychan Brycheiniog, and had his memory\nhonoured, until a comparatively recent period, in the parish of\nDefynog. Here, on this saint's feast Monday, which fell in October,\nthere was a custom called 'carrying Cynog.' Cynog was represented by a\nman who was paid for his services with money, or with a suit of\nclothes--sometimes a 'stranger' from an adjoining parish, but on the\nlast recorded occasion a drunken farmer of the neighbourhood. He was\nclad in dilapidated garments, and borne through the village; after\nwhich he was tumbled headlong into the river amid the jeers of the\ncrowd, to scramble out as best he might. It was not a very respectful\nway of commemorating a saint who had been buried a thousand years or\nthereabouts; but such as it was it died out early in the present\ncentury. The ducking which ended the performance has been supposed to\nbe a puritan improvement on what was before a religious ceremony, or\nmystery. It is more than possibly a relic of the Druidic sacrificial\nrites; in cases where a river ran near, at the time of the Beltane\nfires, a sacrifice by water was substituted for that of flame.\n\nThe feast of St. Cynog continued for a week. On the Tuesday there was\na singular marketing in the churchyard; from all about the farmers\nbrought their tithe of cheese, and taking it to the churchyard, laid\nit on the tombstones, where it was sold for the parson's behoof.\n\n\nIV.\n\nAll Hallows eve is by the Welsh called 'Nos Calan Gauaf,' meaning 'the\nfirst night of winter;' sometimes, 'Nos Cyn Gauaf,' the 'night before\nwinter.' It is one of the 'Teir Nos Ysprydnos,' or 'three nights for\nspirits,' upon which ghosts walk, fairies are abroad, mysterious\ninfluences are in the air, strange sights are seen, and in short\ngoblins of every sort are to be with special freedom encountered. They\nmay be conjured to appear, by certain enchantments, and to give their\nvisitors glimpses of the future, especially as regards the subject of\nmarrying. On this night it is customary for the young people,\ngathered in many a merry circle, to seek by tricks and charms of\nvarious sort to become acquainted with their future lovers and\nsweethearts. Not that it is always necessary to employ such aids, for\non the Teir Nos Ysprydnos the phantoms of future companions have been\nknown to appear unsummoned. There are many such stories as that of\nThomas Williams, the preacher, who slept in the hills on a Nos\nYsprydnos, and although he used no charms nor tricks of any sort, he\nsaw his future wife. As he was just about putting out his light,\nhaving jumped into bed, the door opened and the goblin mother of the\nyoung woman he subsequently married walked into the room, leading her\ndaughter. 'Here, Thomas,' said she, 'I am going, but I leave you\nMary.' And when he came down home out of the mountains he found that\nthe old mother had died in her bed at the very moment he saw her\ngoblin. To have done less than marry the girl, after that, would have\nbeen to insult the good old lady's ghost, and cast reflections on the\nreputation of All Hallows eve.\n\nThe two other spirit-nights, it may here be mentioned, are May-day eve\nand Midsummer eve; which with All Hallows were three great festivals\nof the ancient Druids, when they commemorated the powers of Nature and\nlove in the manner which has been alluded to. I have two accounts of\nthis matter, however, and I know not which is the older in tradition,\nas I have both from the mouths of the people; but one account calls\nChristmas-night the third spirit-night.\n\nThe festivities of All Hallows in Wales are in the main like those of\nother Christian lands, in so far as they consist of feasting and\nmaking merry. Bonfires were kindled in many places until recently,\nand perhaps are still, in some parts, again in pursuance of the\nDruidic rites, which the Christian Church adopted and continued while\nchanging their significance. In Owen's account of the Bards occurs a\ncurious description of the autumnal fires kindled in North Wales on\nthe eve of the first of November, and the attendant ceremonies. There\nwas running through the fire and smoke, and casting of stones into the\nfire, 'all running off at the conclusion to escape from the black\nshort-tailed sow.'[129] This custom of running through the fire is\nsaid to survive in Ireland. It is no doubt related to the ancient\nsacrificial rites. As testimonies to the kinship of our race, all\nthese customs possess a deep interest, which is increased in this\ndirection as they lose in the charm of the unique.\n\nOn the Welsh Border there prevails a Hallow-e'en custom among the\nchildren of going about to the houses singing the rhymes which follow:\n\n    Wissel wassel, bread and possel,\n    Cwrw da, plas yma:\n    An apple or a pear, a plum or a cherry,\n    Or any good thing to make us merry.\n\n    Sol cakes, sol cakes,\n    Pray you, good missus, a sol cake;\n    One for Peter, and two for Paul,\n    And three for the good man that made us all.\n\n    The roads are very dirty,\n      My shoes are very thin,\n    I've got a little pocket,\n      To put a penny in.\n    Up with the kettle and down with the pan,\n    Give us an answer and we'll be gan.\n\n    (_A loud rap at the door._)\n\n    _Spoken._ Please to give us a 'apenny.\n\nSome of these rhymes are heard in Glamorganshire and elsewhere at\nChristmas and New Year's.\n\nThe puzzling jug is a vessel in use in some quarters as a means of\nincreasing the hilarity of a Hallow-e'en party. It is a stone jug,\n'out of which each person is compelled to drink. From the brim,\nextending about an inch below the surface, it has holes fantastically\narranged so as to appear like ornamental work, and which are not\nperceived except by the perspicacious; three projections, of the size\nand shape of marbles, are around the brim, having a hole of the size\nof a pea in each; these communicate with the bottom of the jug through\nthe handle, which is hollow, and has a small hole at the top, which,\nwith two of the holes being stopped by the fingers, and the mouth\napplied to the one nearest the handle, enables one to suck the\ncontents with ease; but this trick is unknown to every one, and\nconsequently a stranger generally makes some mistake, perhaps applying\nhis mouth as he would to another jug, in which case the contents\n(generally ale) issue through the fissures on his person, to the no\nsmall diversion of the spectators.'[130]\n\nAnother merry custom of All Hallows was--and is--twco am 'falau,\nbobbing for apples. A large tub (crwc) is brought into the kitchen of\na farm-house and filled with water; a dozen apples are thrown into it,\nand the rustic youths bob for them with their mouths. To catch up two\napples at a single mouthful is a triumphant achievement. Again the\nrevellers will form a semicircle before the fire, while there depends\nabove their mouths from a hook in the ceiling, a string with a stick\nattached. At one end of the stick is an apple, at the other end a\ncandle. To snatch the apple with the lips, and yet avoid the candle,\nis the aim of the competitors. The stick is so hung that it turns\neasily on its axis, and the bobbers often find themselves catching\nthe candle in their hair while aiming at the apple. This appears to be\na relic of the ancient Welsh game of quintain, or gwyntyn.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[129] Brand, 'Pop. Ant.,' i., 191.\n\n[130] 'Camb. Sup.,' 174.\n\n\nV.\n\nNovember the Fifth, the anniversary of the Gunpowder Plot, is much\nobserved in Wales. 'God grant,' said Bishop Sanderson in one of his\nsermons, 'that we nor ours ever live to see November the Fifth\nforgotten, or the solemnity of it silenced.' The words are similar to\nthose used by a great American, of the early days of the Republic,\nwith regard to the 4th of July--God grant it might never be forgotten.\nBut the rites by which both days are celebrated are as old as\ntradition, and much older than history. As the Americans have given a\nhistorical significance to bonfires and fireworks, so the English\nbefore them did to sacrificing a puppet on Guy Fawkes' Day; and so\nagain some Catholic nations have made the rite a religious one, in the\nhanging of Judas. All three customs are traced to the same\noriginal--the ancient Druidic sacrifices to the sun-god Beal or\nMoloch. It is noteworthy that the Fifth of November and the Fourth of\nJuly--or rather the fiery features of these days--are alike voted a\nnuisance by respectable and steady-going people in the countries to\nwhich they respectively belong.\n\n\nVI.\n\nOn St. Clement's Day (the 23rd of November) it was customary in\nPembrokeshire in the last century to parade an effigy of a carpenter,\nwhich had been hung to the church steeple the night before. Cutting\nthe effigy down from where it hung, the people carried it about the\nvillage, repeating loudly some doggerel verses which purported to be\nthe last will and testament of St. Clement, distributing to the\ndifferent carpenters in town the several articles of dress worn by the\neffigy. After the image was thus stripped of its garments, one by one,\nthe padded remains were thrown down and carefully kicked to pieces by\nthe crowd.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\n    Nadolig, the Welsh Christmas--Bell-Ringing--Carols--Dancing\n    to the Music of the Waits--An Evening in\n    Carmarthenshire--Shenkin Harry, the Preacher, and the Jig\n    Tune--Welsh Morality--Eisteddfodau--Decorating Houses and\n    Churches--The Christmas Thrift-box--The Colliers' Star--The\n    Plygain--Pagan Origin of Christmas Customs.\n\n\nI.\n\nWe come now to the most interesting holiday season of the year, by\nreason of its almost universality of observance among Christian\npeoples, and the variety of customs peculiar to it. In the land of\nArthur and Merlin it is a season of such earnest and widespread\ncordiality, such warm enthusiasm, such hearty congratulations between\nman and man, that I have been nowhere equally impressed with the\ngeniality and joyousness of the time. In some Catholic countries one\nsees more merriment on the day itself; indeed, the day itself is not\nespecially merry in Wales, at least in its out-door aspects. It is the\nseason rather than the day which is merry in Wales. The festival is\nusually understood, throughout Christendom, to include twelve days;\nthe Welsh people not only make much of the twelve days, but they\nextend the peculiar festivities of the season far beyond those limits.\nChristmas has fairly begun in Wales a week or two before\nChristmas-day. The waits are patrolling the streets of Cardiff as\nearly as December 5th, and Christmas festivals are held as early as\nDecember 19th, at which Christmas-trees are displayed, and their\nboughs denuded of the toys and lollipops in which the juvenile heart\ndelights. After Christmas-day the festival continues I know not just\nhow long, but apparently for weeks.\n\nThe characteristic diversions of the Christmas season are, in the\nmain, alike in all Christian countries. In Wales many well-known old\ncustoms are retained which in some other parts of Great Britain have\ndisappeared, such as the mummers, the waits, carols, bell-ringings,\netc. Not only do the bell-ringers of the several churches throughout\nthe principality do their handsomest on their own particular bells,\nbut there are grand gatherings, at special points, of all the\nbell-ringers for leagues around, who vie with each other in showing\nwhat feats they can perform, how they can astonish you with their\nmajors, bob-majors, and triple bob-majors, on the brazen clangers of\nthe steeples. At Cowbridge, for instance, on Christmas will come\ntogether the ringers from Aberdare, Penarth, St. Fagan's, Llantrisant,\nLlanblethian, and other places, thirty or forty in number, and after\nthey have rung till the air above the town is black with flying clefs\nand quavers from the steeples, they will all sit down to a jolly\nChristmas-dinner at the Bear. The bands of waits, or 'pipers of the\nwatch,' who wake the echoes of the early morning with their carols,\nare heard in every Welsh town and village. In some towns there are\nseveral bands and much good-natured rivalry. The universal love of\nmusic among the Welsh saves the waits from degenerating into the\nwoe-begone creatures they are in some parts, where the custom has that\npoor degree of life which can be kept in it by shivering clusters of\nbawling beggars who cannot sing. Regularly organised and trained\nchoirs of Welshmen perambulate the Cambrian country, chanting carols\nat Christmas-tide, and bands of musicians play who, in many cases,\nwould not discredit the finest military orchestras. Carols are sung in\nboth Welsh and English; and, generally, the waits are popular. If\ntheir music be not good, they are not tolerated; irate gentlemen\nattack them savagely and drive them off. Not exactly that boot-jacks\nand empty bottles are thrown at them, but they are excoriated in\n'letters to the editor,' in which strong language is hurled at them as\nintolerable nuisances, ambulatory disturbers of the night's quiet, and\ninflicters of suffering upon the innocent. But such cases are rare.\nThe music is almost invariably good, and the effect of the soft\nstrains of melodiously-warbled Welsh coming dreamily to one's ears\nthrough the darkness and distance on a winter morning is sweet and\nsoothing to most ears. Sometimes small boys will pipe their carols\nthrough the key-holes. The songs vary greatly in character, but\nusually the religious tone prevails, as in this case:\n\n    As I sat on a sunny bank, a sunny bank, a sunny bank,\n                  All on a Christmas morning,\n    Three ships came sailing by, sailing by, sailing by.\n                Who do you think was in the ships?\n                Who do you think was in the ships?\n                  Christ and the Virgin Mary.\n\nBoth English and Welsh words are sung. Sometimes a group of young men\nand women will be seen dancing about the waits to the measure of their\nmusic, in the hours 'ayont the twal.' In one aspect the Welsh people\nmay be spoken of as a people whose lives are passed in the indulgence\nof their love for music and dancing. The air of Wales seems always\nfull of music. In the Christmas season there is an unending succession\nof concerts and of miscellaneous entertainments of which music forms a\npart, while you cannot enter an inn where a few are gathered\ntogether, without the imminent probability that one or more will break\nforth in song. By this is not meant a general musical howl, such as is\napt to be evoked from a room full of men of any nationality when\nsomewhat under the influence of the rosy god, but good set songs, with\ngood Welsh or English words to them, executed with respect for their\nwork by the vocalists, and listened to with a like respect by the rest\nof the company. When an Englishman is drunk he is belligerent; when a\nFrenchman is drunk he is amorous; when an Italian is drunk he is\nloquacious; when a Scotchman is drunk he is argumentative; when a\nGerman is drunk he is sleepy; when an American is drunk he brags; and\nwhen a Welshman is drunk he sings. Sometimes he dances; but he does\nnot do himself credit as a dancer under these circumstances; for when\nI speak of dancing I do not refer to those wooden paces and\ninflections which pass for dancing in society, and which are little\nmore than an amiable pretext for bringing in contact human elements\nwhich are slow to mix when planted in chairs about a room: I refer to\nthe individual dancing of men who do not dance for the purpose of\ntouching women's hands, or indulging in small talk, but for the\npurpose of dancing; and who apply themselves seriously and skilfully\nto their work--to wit, the scientific performance of a jig.\n\nI chanced to pass one evening, in the Christmas-time, at a country inn\nin a little Carmarthenshire village remote from railways. Certain\nwanderings through green lanes (and the lanes were still green,\nalthough it was cold, mid-winter weather) had brought me to the place\nat dusk, and, being weary, I had resolved to rest there for the night.\nSome local festivity of the season had taken place during the day,\nwhich had drawn into the village an unusual number of farmer-folk from\nthe immediate neighbourhood. After a simple dinner off a chop and a\nhalf-pint of cwrw da, I strolled into what they called the smoke-room,\nby way of distinguishing it from the tap-room adjoining. It was a\nplain little apartment, with high-backed wooden settles nearly up to\nthe ceiling, which gave an old-fashioned air of comfort to the place.\nTwo or three farmers were sitting there drinking their beer and\nsmoking their pipes, and toasting their trouserless shins before the\nblazing fire. Presently a Welsh harper with his harp entered from\nout-doors, and, seating himself in a corner of the room, began to tune\nhis instrument. The room quickly filled up with men and women, and\nthough no drinks but beer and 'pop' were indulged in (save that some\nof the women drank tea), Bacchus never saw a more genial company. Some\none sang an English song with words like these:\n\n    Thrice welcome, old Christmas, we greet thee again,\n    With laughter and innocent mirth in thy train;\n    Let joy fill the heart, and shine on the brow,\n    While we snatch a sweet kiss 'neath the mistletoe-bough--\n            The mistletoe-bough,\n            The mistletoe-bough,\n    We will snatch a sweet kiss 'neath the mistletoe-bough.\n\nThe words are certainly modern, and as certainly not of a high order\nof literary merit, but they are extremely characteristic of life at\nthis season in Wales, where kissing under the mistletoe is a custom\nstill honoured by observance. There was dancing, too, in this inn\ncompany--performed with stern and determined purpose to excel, by\nindividuals who could do a jig, and wished to do it well. The harper\nplayed a wild lilting tune; a serious individual who looked like a\nschool-teacher took off his hat, bowed to the company, jumped into the\nmiddle of the floor, and began to dance like a madman. It was a\nstrange sight. With a face whose grave earnestness relaxed no whit,\nwith firmly compressed lips and knitted brow, the serious person\nshuffled and double-shuffled, and swung and teetered, and flailed the\nfloor with his rattling soles, till the perspiration poured in\nrivulets down his solemn face. The company was greatly moved;\nenthusiastic ejaculations in Welsh and English were heard; shouts of\napprobation and encouragement arose; and still the serious person\ndanced and danced, ending at last with a wonderful pigeon-wing, and\ntaking his seat exhausted, amid a tremendous roar of applause.\n\nScenes like this are common throughout Wales at the Christmas-time;\nand they contrast strangely with the austerities of religious\nobservance which are everywhere proceeding. But there is not so wide a\nchasm between the two as would exist in some countries. The best\nchurch-members frequently do not deem a little jollity of this sort a\nhanging matter, and there are ministers who can do a double-shuffle\nthemselves if the worst comes to the worst. A worthy pastor in\nGlamorganshire related to me, with a suspicious degree of relish, a\nstory about two ministers who were once riding through a certain\nvillage of Wales on horseback. One was the Rev. Evan Harris, the other\na celebrated old preacher named Shenkin Harry. And, as they rode on,\nHarris noticed his companion's legs twitching curiously on his horse's\nsides. 'Why, what ails your leg?' he asked. 'Don't you hear the harp,'\nwas the reply, 'in the public-house yonder? It makes my old toes crazy\nfor a jig.' But the moral tone of Wales is certainly better, on the\nwhole, than that of most countries--better even than that of Great\nBritain generally, I should say. There is, I know, a prevailing\nimpression quite to the contrary; but it is utterly absurd. It is an\nimpression which has grown, I imagine, out of English injustice to\nWelshmen in former times, allied to English ignorance in those times\nconcerning this people. Until within the last hundred years, English\nwriters habitually wrote of Wales with contempt and even scurrility.\nBut no one can live in Wales and not form the opinion that the Welsh\nare, in truth, an exceptionally moral people; and the nature of their\npublic entertainments throughout the Christmas-time enforces this\nconclusion. Stendhal's declaration that, in true Biblical countries,\nreligion spoils one day out of seven, destroys the seventh part of\npossible happiness, would find strong illustration in Wales. It is not\nmy purpose to argue whether the illustration would prove or disprove\nStendhal's assertion, though one might fairly ask whether religious\npeople are not, perhaps, as happy in going to church on Sunday as\nirreligious people are in staying away.\n\n\nII.\n\nLet it not be supposed that there is any lack of amusement on\nChristmas-day for people who are willing to be amused in a God-fearing\nmanner. Although you cannot go to the theatre or the circus, you can\nhave a wide liberty of choice among oratorios, concerts, examinations,\nexhibitions, eisteddfodau, and other odd diversions. Concerts\nespecially thrive. The halls in which they are held are decorated with\nevergreens, and the familiar custom is in Wales habitually and\ncommonly associated with the ancient Druids, who viewed the green\ntwigs as the symbols of perennial life. Thus a peculiar poetic grace\nrests with a custom beautiful in itself, and capable in any land of\nbeing poetized by any one poetically inclined. Many of those unique\ngatherings called eisteddfodau are held in different parts of the\nprincipality, when poetry, music, and essays, in Welsh and in English,\nare put forth by the strivers in these Olympian games of intellect and\nculture, after the prizes which in Hellas would have given them crowns\nof olive-leaves instead of gold-coins of the realm. When Pindar and\nSophocles handed in poems, and Herodotus competed among the essayists,\nand Phidias and Praxiteles among the cutters of stone, there was no\nChristmas,--but it is claimed there were eisteddfodau, here in Wales;\nay, and before that; for has not Herodotus spoken of the British bards\nwho held them?\n\n\nIII.\n\nIn the family circle, the rules which regulate the Sabbath in\nWales--which are almost as repressive as those of bonnie Scotland,\nwhere, by the way, Christmas-day is scarcely observed at all--are\nrelaxed, and the aspect of the home is as bright as can be. The rooms\nare elaborately decorated with flowers and evergreens, holly and ivy,\nferns and rare plants. In Glamorganshire, and other of the southern\ncounties looking on the sea, roses and hawthorn-sprays may be\nsometimes seen in full bloom out-of-doors at Christmas. The decoration\nof churches is also elaborate beyond anything I have elsewhere seen.\nIt is a sight to behold, the preparations for and the work of\ndecorating a vast pile of ecclesiastical buildings like Llandaff\nCathedral--the huge quantities of evergreens and holly, flowers,\ncedars, etc., which are day by day accumulated by the ladies who have\nthe business in charge; and the slow, continual growth of forms of\ngrace--arches, crosses, wreaths, festoons; green coverings to font,\naltar, pulpit, choir-stalls, pillars, reredos, and rood-screen; panels\nfaced with scarlet cloth bearing sacred devices worked in evergreen;\nthe very window-sills glowing with banks of colour--until all the wide\nspaces in chancel, nave, and transepts, are adorned.\n\n\nIV.\n\nOf common prevalence formerly, and still observed in numerous\nparishes, is the custom called the Plygain, or watching for the dawn.\nThis consists in proceeding to the church at three o'clock on\nChristmas morning, and uniting in a service which is held by the light\nof small green candles made for the purpose. Sometimes this ceremony\nis observed at home, the people in a farm-house holding a\njollification on the Christmas eve, and sitting up all night to greet\nthe dawn. If the east wind blew on the Christmas eve the circumstance\nwas deemed propitious in this connection. This wind was called 'gwynt\ntraed y meirw,' (the wind blowing over the feet of the corpses,)\nbecause it blew towards the foot of the graves in the churchyards. It\nwas also believed that the dumb animals paid their tribute of respect\nto this night; the bees would hum loudly in their hives at midnight,\nand the cattle in the cow-houses would bend their knees as in\nadoration.[131]\n\nA Christmas-eve custom among Welsh colliers is to carry from house to\nhouse a board stuck over with lighted candles, or to wheel a\nhandbarrow containing a bed of clay in which the candles are stuck.\nThis is called 'the Star,' sometimes 'the Star of Bethlehem,' and when\nstopping before a house the men kneel about it and sing a carol. A\nlike custom exists in Belgium, among children. The purpose is to\nsolicit a Rhodd Nadolig, or Christmas gift.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[131] 'Cymru Fu,' 403.\n\n\nV.\n\nThe British Boxing-day is well known, both as to its customs and its\norigin. The Christmas-box, or thrift-box, is still to be seen in\nbarber shops in Wales, fastened to the wall, or standing conveniently\nunder the looking-glass among the pots and brushes. At one time the\ncustom became such a nuisance throughout Britain that an outcry was\nraised about it. It got to that pass that the butcher and baker would\nsend their apprentices around among their customers to levy\ncontributions. The English Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, in\n1837, sent a circular to the different embassies requesting their\nexcellencies and charges d'affaires to discontinue the customary\nChristmas-boxes to the 'messengers of the Foreign Department, domestic\nservants of Viscount Palmerston, foreign postmen, etc.' The nuisance\nis hardly less prevalent now. The faithful postman in Wales not only\nexpects to be remembered at Christmas, but he expects to be given a\nprecise sum, and if he does not get it he is capable of asking for it.\nIn one case, a postman accustomed to receive five shillings at a\ncertain office, on asking for his 'box,' was told the usual donor was\nabsent in London, whereupon he requested the clerk to write up to him\nin London immediately on the subject. These things strike a stranger\nas very singular, among a people usually so self-respecting. Warnings\nare from time to time issued on this subject by those in authority,\nbut the custom is likely to survive so long as it is not ranked\noutright with beggary. Like the Christmas-tree, it is a graceful thing\namong the children, or among friends or household servants, if\nspontaneous; but as a tax, it is an odious perversion.[132]\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[132] Among those who last Christmas applied at my house for 'his box,\nsir, if you please' (as my maid put it), quite as a matter of course,\nwere the postman, the leader of the waits, the boy who brings the\ndaily newspapers, the bookseller's boy, the chimney-sweep, the\ndustman, the grocer's man, etc., etc., no one of whom I had ever set\neyes on. The equal of this I never encountered, except in Paris, on\nthe _jour de l'an_.\n\n\nVI.\n\nThe pagan origin of most of our Christmas customs is undoubted. Even\nthe cheery Christmas-tree is a symbol of heathen rites in times long\nantedating Christ. The early Christian fathers, in adopting the\npopular usages of their predecessors, and bending them to the service\nof Christianity, made wondrous little change in them, beyond the\nsubstitution of new motives and names for the old festivals peculiar\nto several seasons of the year. The British Druids' feast of Alban\nArthur, celebrating the new birth of the sun, occurred at our\nChristmas time, and is still celebrated at Pontypridd, Glamorganshire,\nevery year. It begins on the 22nd of December, and lasts three days,\nduring which period the sun is supposed to fight with Avagddu, the\nspirit of darkness, the great luminary having descended into hell for\nthat purpose. On the third day he rose, and the bards struck their\nharps, rejoicing that the sun had again been found. The Pontypridd\nceremonies are similar to those of Midsummer-day, already mentioned.\nThe Arch-Druid presides in the folds of the serpent circle--when he\ncan get there, that is, for he is old, past eighty, and the Druidic\nhill is apt to be slippery with snow and ice at this time of the year.\nHe prays to the pagan god, and perhaps chants a poem in Welsh.[133]\nThe Druidic fires of the winter solstice feast were continued in\ncustoms like that which survived in Herefordshire until recent years,\nwhen on old Christmas-eve thirteen fires were lighted in a cornfield,\ntwelve of them being in a circle round a central one which burned\nhigher than the rest. The circle fires were called the Twelve\nApostles, and the central one the Virgin Mary. In a shed near by was a\ncow with a plum-cake between or upon her horns, into whose face a pail\nof cider was dashed, with a rhyming address, and the cow tossing her\nhorns from her unexpected baptism naturally threw the plum-cake down.\nIf it fell forward, good harvests were predicted; if backward, the\nomen was evil. A feast among the peasants followed. In the Plygain in\nlike manner survives the Druidic custom of going to the sacred groves\nbefore dawn on this morning, to greet the rising of the new-born sun\nafter his struggle with the evil principle.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[133] I give a free translation of this effort as delivered on Sunday,\nDecember 24th, 1876 (which proved a mild day), and which I find\nreported in the 'Western Mail' of the 26th as follows: 'The day of the\nwinter solstice has dawned upon us; little is the smile and the halo\nof Hea. The depth of winter has been reached, but the muse of Wales is\nbudding still. Cold is the snow on the mountains; naked are the trees,\nand the meadows are bare; but while nature is withering the muse of\nWales is budding. When the earth is decked in mourning, and the birds\nare silent, the muse of Wales, with its harp, is heard in the gorsedd\nof the holy hill. On the stone ark, within the circle of the caldron\nof Ceridwen, are throned the sons of Awen; though through their hair\nthe frozen mist is wafted, their bosoms are sympathetic and they\nrejoice. Peace, love, and truth, encircle our throne; throne without a\nbeginning and without ending, adorned with uchelwydd (mistletoe),\nsymbol of perennial life. The throne of the British Bard--which\nremains a throne while other thrones decay into dust around it: an\neverlasting throne! The great wheel of ages revolves and brings around\nour festivities; repeating our joys it does perpetually. Muse, awake;\nawake, ye harps; let not any part of the year be forgotten wherein to\ncrown usage (defod), morals (moes), and virtue. The Saviour Hea is\nabout to be born of the winter solstice. He will rise higher still and\nhigher shiningly, and we will have again a new year. Haste hail, haste\nfalling snow, hasten rough storms of winter--hasten away that we may\nsee the happy evidences of the new year.'\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\n    Courtship and Marriage--Planting Weeds and Rue on the Graves\n    of Old Bachelors--Special Significance of Flowers in\n    connection with Virginity--The Welsh Venus--Bundling, or\n    Courting Abed--Kissing Schools--Rhamanta--Lovers'\n    Superstitions--The Maid's Trick--Dreaming on a Mutton\n    Bone--Wheat and Shovel--Garters in a Lovers' Knot--Egg-Shell\n    Cake--Sowing Leeks--Twca and Sheath.\n\n\nI.\n\nWelsh courtship is a thorough-going business, early entered upon by\nthe boys and girls of the Principality; and consequently most Welsh\nwomen marry young. The ancient laws of Howell the Good (died 948)\nexpressly provided that a woman should be considered marriageable from\nfourteen upwards, and should be entitled to maintenance from that age\nuntil the end of her fortieth year; 'that is to say, from fourteen to\nforty she ought to be considered in her youth.' By every sort of moral\nsuasion it is deemed right in Wales to encourage matrimony, and no\nwhere are old bachelors viewed with less forbearance. There used to be\na custom--I know not whether it be extinct now--of expressing the\npopular disapprobation for celibacy by planting on the graves of old\nbachelors that ill-scented plant, the rue, and sometimes thistles,\nnettles, henbane, and other unlovely weeds. The practice was even\nextended, most illiberally and unjustly, to the graves of old maids,\nwho certainly needed no such insult added to their injury. Probably\nthe custom was never very general, but grew out of similar--but\nother-meaning--customs which are still prevalent, and which are very\nbeautiful. I refer to the planting of graves with significant flowers\nin token of the virtues of the dead. Thus where the red rose is\nplanted on a grave, its tenant is indicated as having been in life a\nperson of peculiar benevolence of character. The flower specially\nplanted on the grave of a young virgin is the white rose. There is\nalso an old custom, at the funeral of a young unmarried person, of\nstrewing the way to the grave with evergreens and sweet-scented\nflowers, and the common saying in connection therewith is that the\ndead one is going to his or her marriage-bed. Sad extremely, and\ntouchingly beautiful, are these customs; but wherever such exist,\nthere are sure to be ill-conditioned persons who will vent spiteful\nfeelings by similar means. Hence the occasional affront to the remains\nof antiquated single folk, who had been perhaps of a temperament which\nrendered them unpopular.\n\nThe Welsh being generally of an affectionate disposition, courtship,\nas I have said, is a thorough-going business. To any but a people of\nthe strongest moral and religious tendencies, some of their customs\nwould prove dangerous in the extreme; but no people so link love and\nreligion. More of their courting is done while going home from church\nthan at any other time whatever; and the Welsh Venus is a holy saint,\nand not at all a wicked Pagan character like her classic prototype.\n'Holy Dwynwen, goddess of love, daughter of Brychan,' had a church\ndedicated to her in Anglesea in 590; and for ages her shrine was\nresorted to by desponding swains and lovesick maidens. Her\nname--_Dwyn_, to carry off, and _wen_, white--signifies the bearer off\nof the palm of fairness; and, ruling the court of love while living,\nwhen dead\n\n    A thousand bleeding hearts her power invoked.\n\nThroughout the poetry of the Cymric bards you constantly see the\nseverest moral precepts, and the purest pictures of virtuous felicity,\nmingling in singularly perfect fusion with the most amorous strains.\nAmong the 'Choice Things' of Geraint, the famous Blue Bard, were:\n\n    A song of ardent love for the lip of a fair maid;\n    A softly sweet glance of the eye, and love without wantonness;\n    A secluded walking-place to caress one that is fair and slender;\n    To reside by the margin of a brook in a tranquil dell of dry soil;\n    A house small and warm, fronting the bright sunshine.\n\nWith these, versifications of all the virtues and moralities. 'In the\nwhole range of Kymric poetry,' says the learned Thomas Stephens,[134]\n'there is not, I venture to assert, a line of impiety.'\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[134] Vide 'Lit. of the Kymry.'\n\n\nII.\n\nThe Welsh custom of Bundling, or courting abed, needs no description.\nThe Welsh words sopen and sypio mean a bundle and to bundle, and they\nmean a squeezed-up mass, and to squeeze together; but there is a\nfurther meaning, equivalent to our word baggage, as applied to a\nstrumpet.[135] The custom of bundling is still practised in certain\nrural neighbourhoods of Wales. To discuss its moral character is not\nmy province in these pages; but I may properly record the fact that\nits practice is not confined to the irreligious classes. It is also\npertinent here to recall the circumstance that among these people\nanciently, courtship was guarded by the sternest laws, so that any\nother issue to courtship than marriage was practically impossible. If\na maiden forgot her duty to herself, her parents, and her training,\nwhen the evil result became known she was to be thrown over a\nprecipice; the young man who had abused the parents' confidence was\nalso to be destroyed. Murder itself was punished less severely.\nCustoms of promiscuous sleeping arose in the earliest times, out of\nthe necessities of existence in those primitive days, when a whole\nhousehold lay down together on a common bed of rushes strewn on the\nfloor of the room. In cold weather they lay close together for greater\nwarmth, with their usual clothing on. Caesar's misconception that the\nancient Britons were polyandrous polygamists evidently had here its\nsource.\n\nIt is only by breathing the very atmosphere of an existence whose\nprimitive influences we may thus ourselves feel, that we can get a\njust conception of the underlying forces which govern a custom like\nthis. Of course it is sternly condemned by every advanced moralist,\neven in the neighbourhoods where it prevails. An instance came to my\nknowledge but a short time ago, (in 1877,) where the vicar of a\ncertain parish (Mydrim, Carmarthenshire) exercised himself with great\nzeal to secure its abolition. Unfortunately, in this instance, the\ngood man was not content with abolishing bundling, he wanted to\nabolish more innocent forms of courting; and worst of all, he turned\nhis ethical batteries chiefly upon the lads and lasses of the\ndissenting congregation. Of course, it was not the vicar's fault that\nthe bundlers were among the meeting-house worshippers, and not among\nthe established church-goers, but nevertheless it injured the\nimpartiality of his championship in the estimation of 'the Methodys.'\nI am not sure the bundling might not have ceased, in deference to his\nopinions, notwithstanding, if he had not, in the excess of his zeal,\ncomplained of the young men for seeing the girls home after meeting,\nand casually stretching the walk beyond what was necessary. Such\nintermeddling as this taxed the patience of the courting community to\nits extreme limit, and it assumed a rebellious front. The vicar, quite\nundaunted, pursued the war with vigour; he smote the enemy hip and\nthigh. He returned to the charge with the assertion that these young\npeople had 'schools for the art of kissing,' a metaphorical\nexpression, I suppose; and that they indulged in flirtation. This was\nreally too much. Bundling might or might not be an exclusively\ndissenting practice, but the most unreasonable of vicars must know\nthat kissing and flirtation were as universal as the parish itself;\nand so there was scoffing and flouting of the vicar, and, as rebounds\nare proverbially extreme, I fear there is now more bundling in Mydrim\nthan ever.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[135] The Rev. Dr. Thomas, late President of Pontypool College, whose\nacquaintance with Welsh customs is very extensive, (and to whose\nerudition I have been frequently indebted during the progress of these\npages through the press,) tells me he never heard the word sopen or\nsypio, synonymous with bundling, used for the old custom, but only\n'caru yn y gwelu,' (courting abed.)\n\n\nIII.\n\nThe customs of Rhamanta, or romantic divination, by which lovers and\nsweethearts seek to pierce the future, are many and curious, in all\nparts of Wales. Besides such familiar forms of this widely popular\npractice as sleeping on a bit of wedding-cake, etc., several unique\nexamples may be mentioned. One known as the Maid's Trick is thus\nperformed; and none must attempt it but true maids, or they will get\nthemselves into trouble with the fairies: On Christmas eve, or on one\nof the Three Spirit Nights, after the old folks are abed, the curious\nmaiden puts a good stock of coal on the fire, lays a clean cloth on\nthe table, and spreads thereon such store of eatables and drinkables\nas her larder will afford. Toasted cheese is considered an appropriate\nluxury for this occasion. Having prepared the feast, the maiden then\ntakes off all her clothing, piece by piece, standing before the fire\nthe while, and her last and closest garment she washes in a pail of\nclear spring water, on the hearth, and spreads it to dry across a\nchair-back turned to the fire. She then goes off to bed, and listens\nfor her future husband, whose apparition is confidently expected to\ncome and eat the supper. In case she hears him, she is allowed to peep\ninto the room, should there be a convenient crack or key-hole for that\npurpose; and it is said there be unhappy maids who have believed\nthemselves doomed to marry a monster, from having seen through a\ncranny the horrible spectacle of a black-furred creature with fiery\neyes, its tail lashing its sides, its whiskers dripping gravy, gorging\nitself with the supper. But if her lover come, she will be his bride\nthat same year.\n\nIn Pembrokeshire a shoulder of mutton, with nine holes bored in the\nblade bone, is put under the pillow to dream on. At the same time the\nshoes of the experimenting damsel are placed at the foot of the bed in\nthe shape of a letter T, and an incantation is said over them, in\nwhich it is trusted by the damsel that she may see her lover in his\nevery-day clothes.\n\nIn Glamorganshire a form of rhamanta still exists which is common in\nmany lands. A shovel being placed against the fire, on it a boy and a\ngirl put each a grain of wheat, side by side. Presently these edge\ntowards each other; they bob and curtsey, or seem to, as they hop\nabout. They swell and grow hot, and finally pop off the shovel. If\nboth grains go off together, it is a sign the young pair will jump\ntogether into matrimony; but if they take different directions, or go\noff at different times, the omen is unhappy. In Glamorganshire also\nthis is done: A man gets possession of a girl's garters, and weaves\nthem into a true lover's knot, saying over them some words of hope and\nlove in Welsh. This he puts under his shirt, next his heart, till he\ngoes to bed, when he places it under the bolster. If the test be\nsuccessful the vision of his future wife appears to him in the night.\n\n\nIV.\n\nA curious rhamanta among farm-women is thus described by a learned\nWelsh writer:[136] The maiden would get hold of a pullet's first egg,\ncut it through the middle, fill one half-shell with wheaten flour and\nthe other with salt, and make a cake out of the egg, the flour, and\nthe salt. One half of this she would eat; the other half was put in\nthe foot of her left stocking under her pillow that night; and after\noffering up a suitable prayer, she would go to sleep. What with her\nromantic thoughts, and her thirst after eating this salty cake, it was\nnot perhaps surprising that the future husband should be seen, in a\nvision of the night, to come to the bedside bearing a vessel of water\nor other beverage for the thirsty maid. Another custom was to go into\nthe garden at midnight, in the season when 'black seed' was sown, and\nsow leeks, with two garden rakes. One rake was left on the ground\nwhile the young woman worked away with the other, humming to herself\nthe while,\n\n    Y sawl sydd i gydfydio,\n    Doed i gydgribinio!\n\nOr in English:\n\n    He that would a life partner be,\n    Let him also rake with me.\n\nThere was a certain young Welshwoman who, about eighty years ago,\nperformed this rhamanta, when who should come into the garden but her\nmaster! The lass ran to the house in great fright, and asked her\nmistress, 'Why have you sent master out into the garden to me?' 'Wel,\nwel,' replied the good dame, in much heaviness of heart, 'make much of\nmy little children!' The mistress died shortly after, and the husband\neventually married the servant.\n\nThe sterner sex have a form of rhamanta in which the knife plays a\npart. This is to enter the churchyard at midnight, carrying a twca,\nwhich is a sort of knife made out of an old razor, with a handle of\nsheep or goat-horn, and encircle the church edifice seven times,\nholding the twca at arm's length, and saying, 'Dyma'r twca, p'le mae'r\nwain?' (Here's the twca--where's the sheath?)\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[136] Cynddelw, 'Manion Hynafiaethol,' 53.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\n    Wedding Customs--The Bidding--Forms of Cymmhorth--The\n    Gwahoddwr--Horse-Weddings--Stealing a Bride--Obstructions to\n    the Bridal Party--The Gwyntyn--Chaining--Evergreen\n    Arches--Strewing Flowers--Throwing Rice and Shoes--Rosemary\n    in the Garden--Names after Marriage--The Coolstrin--The\n    Ceffyl Pren.\n\n\nI.\n\nWales retains several ancient customs in connection with weddings,\nwhich are elsewhere extinct. No one who has ever paid any attention to\nWales and its ways can have failed to hear of that most celebrated\nrite the Bidding, which is, however, one of several picturesque\nsurvivals less well known to the outer world. The Bidding wedding must\nbe spoken of as an existing custom, although it be confined to rural\nneighbourhoods in South Wales, and to obscure and humble folk. Those\nwho strive to prove that all such customs are obsolete everywhere--a\nthankless and even ungraceful task, it seems to me--will not admit\nthat the Bidding has been known since 1870. I have evidence, however,\nthat in Pembroke, Cardigan, and Carmarthen shires, the custom did not\ncease on the date named, and there is every probability that it\nprevails to-day. Nothing could be of smaller importance, it is true,\nthan the precise date on which a given custom recently ceased, since\nany one may revive it next year who chooses to do so.\n\nThe Bidding is an invitation sent by a couple who are about to be\nmarried, soliciting the presence and donations of the neighbours on\ntheir behalf. The presents may be either sums of money or\nnecessaries. Gifts of bread, butter, cheese, tea, sugar, and the like,\nare common, and sometimes articles of farming stock and household\nfurniture. All gifts of money are recognized by a sort of promissory\nnote, i.e., by setting down the name and residence of the donor, with\nthe amount given; and when a like occasion arises on the part of the\ngiver, the debt is religiously paid. The obligation is an absolute\none, and its legality has actually been recognized by the Court of\nGreat Sessions at Cardiff. The gift is even claimable under other\ncircumstances than the donor's getting married. Another sort of\ncontribution is the eatables and drinkables which are set before the\nguests; these are only repayable when required on a like occasion.\n\nThe method of bidding the guests was until lately through a personage\ncalled the gwahoddwr (inviter or bidder) who tramped about the country\nsome days beforehand, proclaiming the particulars to everybody he met.\nHe usually recited a doggerel set of rhymes before and after the\nspecial invitation--a composition of his own, or understood to be\nsuch, for rhyme-making was a part of the talent of a popular bidder.\nFrequently no little humour was displayed in the bidding song. But\nsince the printing press became the cheap and ready servant of the\nhumblest classes, the occupation of the bidder has gradually fallen to\ndecay; a printed circular serves in his place. At the shop of a\nprinter in Carmarthen I procured a copy of the following bidding\ncircular, which may be a real document, or a fictitious one:\n\n    CARMARTHENSHIRE, JULY 4TH, 1862.\n\n    As we intend to enter the Matrimonial State, on Wednesday,\n    the 30th of July instant, we purpose to make a BIDDING on\n    the occasion, the same day, at the Young Man's Father's\n    House, called TY'R BWCI, in the Parish of Llanfair ar y\n    Bryn, when and where the favour of your good and agreeable\n    company is respectfully solicited, and whatever donation you\n    may be pleased to confer on us then will be thankfully\n    received, warmly acknowledged, and cheerfully repaid\n    whenever called for on a similar occasion.\n\n    By your most obedient Servants,\n\n         OWEN GWYN,\n         ELEN MORGAN.\n\n    The Young Man, his Father and Mother (Llewelyn and Margaret\n    Gwyn, of Ty'r Bwci), his Brother (Evan Gwyn, Maes y Blodau),\n    his Sisters (Gwladys and Hannah), and his Aunt (Mary Bowen,\n    Llwyn y Fedwen, Llannon), desire that all gifts of the above\n    nature due to them be returned to the Young Man on the above\n    day, and will be thankful for all additional favours\n    granted.\n\n    The Young Woman, her Father (Rhys Morgan, Castell y Moch),\n    and her Brothers and Sister (Howel, Gruffydd, and Gwenllian\n    Morgan), desire that all gifts of the above nature due to\n    them be returned to the Young Woman on the above day, and\n    will be thankful for all additional favours conferred on\n    her.\n\n    The Young Man's company will meet in the Morning at Ty'r\n    Bwci; and the Young Woman's at Pant y Clacwydd, near the\n    Village of Llansadwrn.\n\nThe Bidding is sometimes held on the day of the wedding, and sometimes\non the day and night before it; the custom varies in different\ndistricts, as all these customs do. When the latter is the case, the\nnight is an occasion of great merrymaking, with much consumption of\ncwrw da, and dancing to the music of the harp, for poor indeed would\nbe the Welsh community that could not muster up a harper. This\nfestival is called Nos Blaen, or preceding night, and is a further\nsource of income to the couple, from the sale of cakes and cwrw. 'Base\nis the slave who pays' is a phrase emphatically reversed at a Welsh\nwedding.\n\n  [Illustration: THE OLD-TIME GWAHODDWR.]\n\nThe Bidding is but one form of a feature of Welsh life which\nextensively prevails, known by the term Cymmhorth. The Bidding is a\nPriodas Cymmhorth; the Cyfarfod Cymmhorth, or Assistance Meeting, is\nmuch the same thing, minus the wedding feature. The customs of the\nlatter festival are, however, often of a sort distinctly tending\ntoward matrimonial results as an eventuality. A number of farmer girls\nof the humbler sort will gather at a stated time and place to give a\nday's work to one needing assistance, and after a day spent in such\ntoil as may be required, the festival winds up with jollity in the\nevening. The day is signalized on the part of those youths of the\nneighbourhood who are interested in the girls, by tokens of that\ninterest in the shape of gifts. The lass who receives a gift\naccompanied by a twig of birch is thereby assured of her lover's\nconstancy. To her whom the young man would inform of his change of\nheart, a sprig of hazel is given. An earlier feature of this ceremony\nwas the Merry Andrew, who presented the gifts in the name of the\nlover. This personage was disguised fantastically, and would lead the\nyoung woman he selected into another room, where he would deliver the\ngift and whisper the giver's name.\n\nThe antiquity of the Bidding as a local custom is undoubted. The\nold-time gwahoddwr was a person of much importance, skilled in\npedigrees and family traditions, and himself of good family. A\nchieftain would assume the character in behalf of his vassal, and\nhostile clans respected his person as he went about from castle to\ncastle, from hall to hall. He bore a garlanded staff as the emblem of\nhis office, and on entering a dwelling would strike his staff upon the\nfloor to command the attention of the group before him, and then begin\nhis address.\n\n\nII.\n\nThe Horse-Wedding is of more ancient origin than the Bidding, and is\nstill a living custom in some parts of Wales, especially\nCarmarthenshire and western Glamorganshire. It was in other days\ncommon throughout South Wales, and was scolded about by old Malkin\n(generally very cordial in his praise of Welsh customs) in these spicy\nterms: 'Ill may it befal the traveller, who has the misfortune of\nmeeting a Welsh wedding on the road. He would be inclined to suppose\nthat he had fallen in with a company of lunatics, escaped from their\nconfinement. It is the custom of the whole party who are invited, both\nmen and women, to ride full speed to the church porch, and the person\nwho arrives there first has some privilege or distinction at the\nmarriage feast. To this important object all inferior considerations\ngive way; whether the safety of his majesty's subjects, who are not\ngoing to be married, or their own, incessantly endangered by\nboisterous, unskilful and contentious jockeyship.'[137] Glamorganshire\nis here spoken of. The custom varies somewhat in different localities,\nbut it preserves the main feature, to force the bride away from her\nfriends, who then gallop after her to church, arriving _toujours trop\ntard_, of course, like the carabineers in 'Les Brigands.'\n\nThere have been cases, however, when the bride was caught by a member\nof the pursuing party, and borne away--an incident which occurred in\nthe knowledge of an acquaintance, who related it to me. As may readily\nbe inferred, the bride in this case was not unwilling to be caught; in\nfact she was averse to marrying the man who was taking her to church,\nand who was her parent's choice, not her own. The lover who had her\nheart caught up with her by dint of good hard riding, and whisked her\non his horse within sight of the church-door, to the intense\nastonishment of the bridegroom, who gazed at them open-mouthed as they\ngalloped away. He thought at first it was a joke, but as the lovers\ndisappeared in the distance the truth dawned upon him: a Welsh custom\nhad served something like its original purpose.\n\nBut usually, the whole performance is a vehicle for fun of the most\ngood-natured and innocent sort. It begins by the arrival of the\nneighbours on horseback at the residence of the expectant bridegroom.\nAn eye-witness to a certain wedding gathering in Glamorganshire a few\nyears ago states that the horsemen exceeded one hundred in number.\nFrom among them a deputation was chosen to go (still on horseback) to\nthe bride's residence to make formal demand for her. Her door was\nbarred inside, and the demand was made in rhyme, and replied to in the\nsame form from within. It often happens that a brisk contest of wits\nsignalizes this proceeding, for if the voice of any one within is\nrecognized by one of those outside, his personal peculiarities are\nmade the subject of satirical verses. A voice inside being recognized\nas that of a man who was charged with sheep-stealing, this rhyme was\npromptly shouted at him:\n\n    Gwrando, leidr hoyw'r ddafad,\n    Ai ti sydd yma heddyw'n geidwad?\n    Ai dyna y rheswm cloi y drysau,\n    Rhag dwyn y wreigan liw dydd goleu?\n\n    (Ah, sheep-stealer, art thou a guardian of the fair one? If\n    the doors were not locked thou wouldst steal the bride in\n    broad daylight.)\n\nThe doors are opened in the end, of course, and after refreshments the\nwedding party gallops off to church. The bride is stolen away and\nborne off to a distance on her captor's horse, but only in sport; her\ncaptor brings her back to the church, where she is quietly married to\nthe proper person. Sometimes the precaution is taken of celebrating\nthe marriage privately at an early hour, and the racing takes place\nafterward.\n\nObstructions are raised by the bride's friends, to prevent the\nbridegroom's party from coming to her house, and these difficulties\nmust be overcome ere the bride can be approached. Sometimes a mock\nbattle on the road is a feature of the racing to church. The\nobstructions placed in the road in former days included the Gwyntyn, a\nsort of game of skill which seems to have been used by most nations in\nEurope, called in English the quintain. It was an upright post, upon\nwhich a cross-piece turned freely, at one end of which hung a\nsand-bag, the other end presenting a flat side. At this the rider\ntilted with his lance, his aim being to pass without being hit in the\nrear by the sand-bag. Other obstructions in use are ropes of straw and\nthe like.\n\nThere is a Welsh custom called Chaining, which probably arose out of\nthe horse-wedding, and still prevails. In the village of Sketty,\nGlamorganshire, in August, 1877, I saw a chaining, on the occasion of\na marriage between an old lady of eighty and a man of fifty. The\naffair had made so much talk, owing to the age of the bride, that the\nwhole village was in the streets. While the wedding ceremony was in\nprogress, a chain was stretched across the street, forming a barrier\nwhich the wedding party could not pass till the chainers were\n'tipped.' The driver of the carriage containing the newly wedded pair\nwas an Englishman, and ignorant of the custom, at which he was\nnaturally indignant. His angry efforts to drive through the barrier\nmade great sport for the Welshmen.\n\nThe origin of the Welsh horse-wedding may be traced to the Romans, if\nno further back, and may thus be connected with the rape of the\nSabines. That the Romans had an exactly similar custom is attested by\nApuleius, and it is said to have been established by Romulus in memory\nof the Sabine virgins. It is not improbable that the Romans may have\nleft the custom behind them when they quitted this territory in the\nfifth century, after nearly three hundred years' rule.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[137] Malkin's 'South Wales,' 67.\n\n\nIII.\n\nAmong the wealthier classes of Wales, certain joyous and genial\nwedding customs prevail, such as are common in most parts of the\nBritish isles, but which do not reappear in the new world across the\nAtlantic,--a fact by which American life is a heavy loser, in my\nopinion. When the Rector of Merthyr's daughter (to use the form of\nspeech common) was married, a few months since, the tenants of the\nestate erected arches of evergreens over the roads, and adorned their\nhouses with garlands, and for two or three days the estate was a scene\nof festivity, ending with the distribution of meat to the poor of the\nparish. Such festivities and such decorations are common on the\nestates of the country gentry not only, but in the towns as well. At\nTenby, when the High Sheriff's son was married to the Rector of\nTenby's daughter, in 1877, garlands of flowers were hung across the\nHigh Street, bearing pleasant mottoes, while flags and banners\nfluttered from house-tops in all directions. Children strewed flowers\nin the bride's path as she came out of church, while the bells in the\nsteeple chimed a merry peal, and a park of miniature artillery boomed\nfrom the pier-head. This custom of children strewing flowers in the\npath of the new-made bride is common; so also is that of throwing\nshowers of rice after the wedded pair, by way of expressing good\nwishes--a pleasanter thing to be thrown under these circumstances than\nthe old shoes of tradition. However, since fashion has taken up the\ncustom of rice-throwing and shoe-throwing, the shoes have become satin\nslippers.\n\nAs far back as the 16th century, throwing an old shoe after any one\ngoing on an important errand was deemed lucky in Wales. It is thought\nthat in the case of a bride, the custom is derived from the old Jewish\nlaw of exchange, when a shoe was given in token that the parents for\never surrendered all dominion over their daughter. But a precisely\nsimilar custom prevails in China, where it is usual for the bride to\npresent her husband with a pair of shoes, by way of signifying that\nfor the future she places herself under his control. 'These are\ncarefully preserved in the family and are never given away, like other\nworn-out articles, it being deemed, that to part with them portends an\nearly separation between husband and wife.'[138] The custom of\nrice-throwing is also Chinese, the rice being viewed as a sign of\nabundance. In Sicily, as in some parts of England, wheat is thrown on\nthe bride's head; in Russia, a handful of hops; in the north of\nEngland a plateful of shortcake;[139] in Yorkshire, bits of the\nbride-cake. All these customs, while popularly done 'for luck,' are\napparently symbolical of the obedience and the fruitfulness of the\nnewly-wedded wife. And as in Scandinavia the bride tries to get her\nhusband to pick up her handkerchief as an omen of his obeying instead\nof compelling obedience, so in China the bride tries to sit on a part\nof her husband's dress. The vulgar story and adage, 'Bandbox now,\nbandbox always,' expresses the superstition succinctly.\n\nThere is a saying current on the Welsh border, that when rosemary\nflourishes in the garden of a married pair, the lady 'rules the\nroast,' as the phrase is--though if there is anything a woman should\nrule, one would think the 'roast' is that thing. 'That be rosemary,\nsir,' said an old gardener in Herefordshire, pointing to where the\nplant grew; 'they say it grows but where the missus is master, and it\ndo grow here like wildfire.' The idea of feminine obedience to\nmasculine will, merely because it is masculine, is in itself looked\nupon as a superstition by all cultivated people in these days, I\nsuppose. Sex aside, if the truth were known, it would be found that\nthe stronger is the ruler, in all lands, under all customs, be the\noutward show of the ruling more or less; and it is not always where\nthe public sees it most clearly, or fancies it does, that the rule of\nthe dame is sternest. The strength here employed is not virile\nstrength; there is nothing necessarily masculine about it. The\nseverest mistress of her lord I ever knew was a feeble little woman\nwith hands like a baby's, and a face of wax, with no more will-power\napparently than a week-old kitten, but whose lightest whim lay on her\nlord like iron, and was obeyed as faithfully as if it were backed by a\ncat-o'-nine-tails and a six-shooter.\n\nTo return for a moment to our Welsh wedding customs among the\nwealthier classes. When the couple return from their bridal tour, the\nfun often begins all over again. Thus at Lampeter, on the edge of\nCardiganshire, last September, when Mr. and Mrs. Jones of Glandennis\n(Jones of Glandennis, Roberts of the Dingle, Williams of Pwlldu,--such\ncognomens take the place in Wales of the distinctive names which\nseparate Englishmen one from another, and from Jones of Nevada),--when\nJones of Glandennis brought home his bride, the whole neighbourhood\nwas agog to greet them. Thousands of people gathered in a field near\nthe station, and passed their time in athletic sports till the train\narrived, when they woke the echoes with their cheers. The Joneses\nentered their carriage, the horses were unharnessed, and a long\nprocession of tenantry, headed by a brass band, dragged the carriage\nall the way to Glandennis, two miles off, some bearing torches by the\nside of the carriage. Arches of evergreens were everywhere; and when\nthey got to the house, nothing would do but Mrs. Jones must appear at\na window and make a little speech of thanks to the crowd; which she\ndid accordingly--a thing in itself shocking to superstitious ideas of\nchivalry, but in strictest accord with the true chivalric spirit\ntoward woman. Then fireworks blazed up the sky, and bonfires were\nlighted on the tops of all the adjoining hills. Lampeter town was\nilluminated, and nobody went to bed till the small hours.\n\nAfter marriage, Welshwomen still in some cases retain their maiden\nnames, a custom formerly universal among them. The wife of John\nThomas, though the mother of a houseful of children, may be habitually\nknown among her neighbours as Betty Williams. In other cases, she not\nonly assumes her husband's name, but the name of his calling as well;\nif he is Dick Shon the tailor, she is simply Mrs. Dick Shon the\ntailor.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[138] Dennys, 'Folk-Lore of China,' 18.\n\n[139] Henderson, 'Notes on Folk-Lore,' 22.\n\n\nIV.\n\nA custom called the Coolstrin is now apparently obsolete, unless in\noccasional rural communities remote from railroads. It resembles the\nold custom once known in certain parts of England, called the skimitry\nor skimmington, in which a man whose wife had struck him was forced to\nride behind a woman, with his face to the horse's tail, while a band\nof pans and cow-horns made music for them. The Welsh custom is,\nhowever, more elaborate, and more comical, while it is less severe on\nthe man. A husband who is suspected of having a termagant wife, is\nmade the subject of espionage. If it be found that he drinks his mug\nof ale standing, with his eye twinkling toward the door, the\ncircumstance is considered most suspicious. Efforts are accordingly\nmade to induce the henpecked man to stay and be merry, and if he can\nbe made drunk a great point is gained, as then a squad of volunteers\ntake him inside his own door and critically observe his reception. A\nmoral point involved appears to be that a henpecked husband is a\ndisgrace to manhood in general; and the purpose of the coolstrin is to\nreform it altogether. However, although it may even be proved that a\nwoman is in the habit of cuffing her husband, the case does not come\nunder the jurisdiction of the coolstrin court until she has 'drawn\nblood on him.' Then the court is convened. It is composed, no doubt,\nof any rakehelly youngsters, married or single, who are ripe for\nsport. One of them is chosen for judge; a special point is that he\nmust be a married man who is not afraid of his wife; and he is\ninvested with robe and gown, that is to say, the collar-bone of a\nhorse is set on his head, around the crown of a slouch hat, and a\nbed-quilt is made fast to his shoulders. He marches through the\nstreets, with a youth behind him bearing his bed-quilt train, and\nmounts a chosen wall for a judge's bench. Officers with long white\nwands range themselves solemnly on either side of him; men are chosen\nas advocates; and a posse of rustics with pitchforks keeps order. The\ncourt is opened by a crier who calls on all good men who as yet wear\ntheir own clos,[140] to attend the court. The case is argued by the\nadvocates; witnesses are examined to prove, first, that the man is\nhenpecked, second, that his wife has struck him and drawn blood with\nthe blow. In one case it was proved that the wife had knocked her\nbeery lord down, and that his nose, striking a stool, had bled. The\nwife's advocate nearly gravelled the judge, by holding that blood\ndrawn by a stool could not be said to have been drawn by the woman.\nThe judge got over this by deciding that if the woman had taken the\nstool by one of its three legs, and hit the man, drawing blood, the\nblood would be clearly chargeable to her. 'And where is the\ndifference,' asked he, triumphantly, 'between knocking the stool\nagainst him, and knocking him against the stool?' The woman was found\nguilty. 'For,' said the prosecuting attorney indignantly, 'if a man\nshan't drink a blue of beer with a neighbour or so, to what won't it\ncome?' Her condemnation followed; to be ridden on the Ceffyl Pren. A\nderisive procession was formed, and two fellows were rigged up to\npersonate the husband and wife. The male bore a broom, and the female\nbrandished a ladle, and the two were paraded through the town. A band\nof 'musicians' marched before them, beating frying-pans with marrow\nbones, banging gridirons and kettles with pokers, tongs and shovels,\nand two playing on a fife and drum. These were followed by two\nstandard bearers, one bearing a petticoat on top of a pole, the other\na pair of breeches in the same manner. Other orts and ends of rabble\nmade up the procession, which with antic and grimace marched about the\nvillage and neighbourhood. The orgie ended by the planting in front of\nthe culprit's house of the pole and petticoat, and the pelting of it\nwith addled eggs, stones, and mud, till it fell to the ground. The\nnoble bifurcated emblem of manhood, the clos, was then elevated\nproudly aloft, and the woman's punishment was deemed complete.\n\nThis is the story of a rural village in Glamorganshire. The custom\nwas known in other counties, and varied in its details. In\nBreconshire, the virago was punished through the ceffyl pren merely by\nthe moral influence of parading it before her cottage. Quarrelsome\nwives were said to stand in great and constant dread of its possible\nappearance before their doors. In Cardiganshire, on the contrary, the\ncustom termed the coolstrin is _vice versa_, and it is only husbands\nwho ill-use their wives who are amenable to its discipline.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[140] Breeches.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\n    Death and Burial--The Gwylnos--Beer-drinking at Welsh\n    Funerals--Food and Drink over the Coffin--Sponge Cakes at\n    Modern Funerals--The Sin-eater--Welsh Denial that this\n    Custom ever existed--The Testimony concerning\n    it--Superstitions regarding Salt--Plate of Salt on Corpse's\n    Breast--The Scapegoat--The St. Tegla Cock and Hen--Welsh\n    Funeral Processions--Praying at Cross-roads--Superstition\n    regarding Criminals' Graves--Hanging and Welsh\n    Prejudice--The Grassless Grave--Parson's Penny, or\n    Offrwm--Old Shoes to the Clerk--Arian y Rhaw, or Spade\n    Money--Burials without Coffin--The Sul Coffa--Planting and\n    Strewing Graves with Flowers.\n\n\nI.\n\nWith the growth of modern refinement the people of every land have\nbecome constantly more decorous in their grief. The effort of the\nprimitive and untutored mind to utter its sorrow in loud and wild\nlamentations, and of friends and neighbours to divert the mind of the\nsufferer from his bereavement, gave rise to many funeral customs of\nwhich we still find traces in Wales. Pennant, while travelling in\nNorth Wales, noted, with regard to one Thomas Myddleton, a fact which\nhe held 'to prove that the custom of the Irish howl, or Scotch\nCoranich, was in use among us (the Welsh); for we are told he was\nburied \"cum magno dolore et clamore cognatorum et propinquorum\nomnium.\"' No such custom now exists; but there is a very impressive\nrite, of a corresponding character, but religious, called the Gwylnos.\nIt is a meeting held in the room where the corpse is lying, on the\nnight before the funeral. The Irish cry, 'Why did ye die?' is replaced\nby pious appeals to Heaven, in which great and strong emotion is\nexpressed, the deceased referred to in stirring sentences, and his\ndeath made a theme for warnings on the brevity of earth-life and the\nimportance of the future life of the soul.\n\nOn the day of the funeral, however, the customs are not always in\nkeeping with modern notions of the praiseworthy. Indulgence in\nbeer-drinking at funerals is still a Welsh practice, and its antiquity\nis indicated by a proverb: 'Claddu y marw, ac at y cwrw'--(To bury the\ndead, and to the beer.)[141] The collection of Welsh writings called\n'Cymru Fu' refers to the custom thus, (to translate:) 'Before the\nfuneral procession started for the church, the nearest friends and\nrelatives would congregate around the corpse to wail and weep their\nloss; while the rest of the company would be in an adjoining room\ndrinking warm beer (cwrw brwd) and smoking their pipes; and the women\nin still another room drinking tea together.'[142] The writer here\nspeaks of the custom in the past tense, but apparently rather as a\nliterary fashion than to indicate a fact; at any rate, the custom is\nnot extinct. Occasionally it leads to appearances in the police-court\non the part of injudicious mourners.[143] After taking the coffin out\nof the house and placing it on a bier near the door, it was formerly\ncustomary for one of the relatives of the deceased to distribute bread\nand cheese to the poor, taking care to hand it to each one over the\ncoffin. These poor people were usually those who had, in expectation\nof this gift, been busily engaged in gathering flowers and herbs with\nwhich to grace the coffin. Sometimes this dole was supplemented by the\ngift of a loaf of bread or a cheese with a piece of money placed\ninside it. After that a cup of drink was presented, and the receiver\nwas required to drink a little of it immediately.[144] Alluding to\nthis subject the Rev. E. L. Barnwell[145] says: 'Although this custom\nis no longer in fashion, yet it is to some extent represented by the\npractice, especially in funerals of a higher class, to hand to those\nwho are invited to attend the funeral, oblong sponge cakes sealed up\nin paper, which each one puts into his or her pocket, but the\nproviding and distribution of these cakes are now often part of the\nundertaker's duty.'\n\n  [Illustration: GIVING FOOD OVER THE COFFIN. (_From an old drawing._)]\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[141] So the Spanish say, 'The dead to the bier, the living to good\ncheer.'\n\n[142] 'Cymru Fu,' 91.\n\n[143] 'Two Llancaiach men named Servis and Humphrey were arrested for\nfighting. They had _been to a funeral_, had done the customary honours\nby the remains of the departed brother or sister who had suffered,\ndied, and was \"chested,\" and then, after drowning their grief in the\n\"cwrw,\" finished up in the police-court with a _finale_ involving the\npayment of 5_s._ and costs, and 8_s._ 8_d._ damage, or in default\ntwenty-one days' hard labour.'--'Western Mail,' Jan. 31, 1877.\n\n[144] Pennant, quoted by Roberts, 'Camb. Pop. Ant.,' 175.\n\n[145] 'Arch. Camb.' 4th Se., iii., 332.\n\n\nII.\n\nWhat connection there may be between these customs and the strange and\nstriking rite of the Sin-eater, is a question worthy of careful\nconsideration. It has been the habit of writers with family ties in\nWales, whether calling themselves Welshmen or Englishmen, to associate\nthese and like customs with the well-known character for hospitality\nwhich the Cymry have for ages maintained. Thus Malkin writes: 'The\nhospitality of the country is not less remarkable on melancholy than\non joyful occasions. The invitations to a funeral are very general and\nextensive; and the refreshments are not light, and taken standing, but\nsubstantial and prolonged. Any deficiency in the supply of ale would\nbe as severely censured on this occasion, as at a festival.'[146] Some\nhave thought that the bread-eating and beer-drinking are survivals of\nthe sin-eating custom described by Aubrey, and repeated from him by\nothers. But well-informed Welshmen have denied that any such custom\nas that of the Sin-eater ever existed in Wales at any time, or in the\nborder shires; and it must not be asserted that they are wrong unless\nwe have convincing proof to support the assertion. The existing\nevidence in support of the belief that there were once Sin-eaters in\nWales I have carefully collated and (excluding hearsay and second-hand\naccounts), it is here produced. The first reference to the Sin-eater\nanywhere to be found is in the Lansdowne MSS. in the British Museum,\nin the handwriting of John Aubrey, the author. It runs thus: 'In the\ncounty of Hereford was an old custom at funerals to hire poor people,\nwho were to take upon them the sins of the party deceased. One of them\n(he was a long, lean, ugly, lamentable poor rascal), I remember, lived\nin a cottage on Rosse highway. The manner was that when the corpse was\nbrought out of the house, and laid on the bier, a loaf of bread was\nbrought out, and delivered to the Sin-eater, over the corpse, as also\na mazard bowl of maple, full of beer (which he was to drink up), and\nsixpence in money, in consideration whereof he took upon him, _ipso\nfacto_, all the sins of the defunct, and freed him or her from walking\nafter they were dead.' Aubrey adds, 'and this custom though rarely\nused in our days, yet by some people was observed in the strictest\ntime of the Presbyterian Government; as at Dynder (_nolens volens_ the\nparson of the parish), the kindred of a woman, deceased there, had\nthis ceremony punctually performed, according to her will: and also,\nthe like was done at the city of Hereford, in those times, where a\nwoman kept many years before her death a mazard bowl for the\nSin-eater; and the like in other places in this country; as also in\nBrecon, e.g., at Llangors, where Mr. Gwin, the minister, about 1640,\ncould not hinder the performance of this custom. I believe,' says\nAubrey, 'this custom was heretofore used all over Wales.' He states\nfurther, 'A.D. 1686: This custom is used to this day in North Wales.'\nUpon this, Bishop White Kennet made this comment: 'It seems a\nremainder of this custom which lately obtained at Amersden, in the\ncounty of Oxford; where, at the burial of every corpse, one cake and\none flaggon of ale, just after the interment, were brought to the\nminister in the church porch.'[147]\n\nNo other writer of Aubrey's time, either English or Welsh, appears to\nhave made any reference to the Sin-eater in Wales; and equal silence\nprevails throughout the writings of all previous centuries. Since\nAubrey, many references to it have been made, but never, so far as I\ncan discover, by any writer in the Welsh language--a singular omission\nif there ever was such a custom, for concerning every other\nsuperstitious practice commonly ascribed to Wales the Welsh have\nwritten freely.\n\nIn August, 1852, the Cambrian Archaeological Association held its sixth\nannual meeting at Ludlow, under the Presidency of Hon. R. H. Clive,\nM.P. At this meeting Mr. Matthew Moggridge, of Swansea, made some\nobservations on the custom of the Sin-eater, when he added details not\ncontained in Aubrey's account given above. He said: 'When a person\ndied, his friends sent for the Sin-eater of the district, who on his\narrival placed a plate of salt on the breast of the defunct, and upon\nthe salt a piece of bread. He then muttered an incantation over the\nbread, which he finally ate, thereby eating up all the sins of the\ndeceased. This done he received his fee of 2_s._ 6_d._ and vanished as\nquickly as possible from the general gaze; for, as it was believed\nthat he really appropriated to his own use and behoof the sins of all\nthose over whom he performed the above ceremony, he was utterly\ndetested in the neighbourhood--regarded as a mere Pariah--as one\nirredeemably lost.' The speaker then mentioned the parish of Llandebie\nwhere the above practice 'was said to have prevailed to a recent\nperiod.' He spoke of the survival of the plate and salt custom near\nSwansea, and indeed generally, within twenty years, (i.e. since 1830)\nand added: 'In a parish near Chepstow it was usual to make the figure\nof a cross on the salt, and cutting an apple or an orange into\nquarters, to put one piece at each termination of the lines.' Mr.\nAllen, of Pembrokeshire, testified that the plate and salt were known\nin that county, where also a lighted candle was stuck in the salt; the\npopular notion was that it kept away the evil spirit. Mr. E. A.\nFreeman, (the historian) asked if Sin-eater was the term used in the\ndistrict where the custom prevailed, and Mr. Moggridge said it was.\n\nSuch is the testimony. I venture no opinion upon it further than may\nbe conveyed in the remark that I cannot find any direct corroboration\nof it, as regards the Sin-eater, and I have searched diligently for\nit. The subject has engaged my attention from the first moment I set\nfoot on Cambrian soil, and I have not only seen no reference to it in\nWelsh writings, but I have never met any unlettered Welshman who had\never heard of it. All this proves nothing, perhaps; but it weighs\nsomething.[148]\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[146] 'South Wales,' 68.\n\n[147] Vide Hone's 'Year Book,' 1832, p. 858.\n\n[148] Mr. Eugene Schuyler's mention of a corresponding character in\nTurkistan is interesting: 'One poor old man, however, I noticed, who\nseemed constantly engaged in prayer. On calling attention to him I was\ntold that he was an iskatchi, a person who gets his living by taking\non himself the sins of the dead, and thenceforth devoting himself to\nprayer for their souls. He corresponds to the Sin-eater of the Welsh\nborder.'--'Turkistan,' ii., 28.\n\n\nIII.\n\nOf superstitions regarding salt, there are many in Wales. I have even\nencountered the special custom of placing a plate of salt on the\nbreast of the corpse. In the case of an old woman from Cardiganshire,\nwho was buried at Cardiff, and who was thus decked by her relatives, I\nwas told the purpose of the plate of salt was to 'prevent swelling.'\nThere is an Irish custom of placing a plate of snuff on the body of a\ncorpse; hence the saying, addressed to an enemy, 'I'll get a pinch off\nyour belly yet.' The Irish also employ the plate of salt in the same\nmanner. In view of the universal prevalence of superstitions regarding\nsalt, too much weight should not be placed on this detail, in\nconnection with the accounts of the Sin-eater. Such superstitions are\nof extreme antiquity, and they still survive even among the most\ncultivated classes. Salt falling toward a person was of old considered\na most unlucky omen, the evil of which could only be averted by\nthrowing a little of the fallen salt over the shoulder. My own wife\nobserves this heathen rite to this day, and so, I fancy, do most men's\nwives--jocularly, no doubt, but with a sort of feeling that 'if there\n_is_ anything in it,' &c. Salt was the ancient symbol of friendship,\nbeing deemed incorruptible. In the Isle of Man no important business\nwas ventured on without salt in the pocket; marrying, moving, even the\nreceiving of alms, must be sanctified by an exchange of salt between\nthe parties. An influential legend is noted among the Manx\ninhabitants, of the dissolution of an enchanted palace on that island,\nthrough the spilling of salt on the ground. In Da Vinci's picture of\nthe Lord's Supper, Judas Iscariot is represented as overturning the\nsalt--an omen of the coming betrayal of Christ by that personage. In\nRussia, should a friend pass you the salt without smiling, a quarrel\nwill follow. The Scotch put salt in a cow's first milk after calving.\nEven the Chinese throw salt into water from which a person has been\nrescued from drowning. All these practices point either to lustration\nor propitiation.\n\n\nIV.\n\nIt has been suggested that the custom of the Sin-eater is in imitation\nof the Biblical scapegoat. 'And Aaron shall lay both his hands upon\nthe head of the live goat, and confess over him all the iniquities of\nthe children of Israel, and all their transgressions in all their\nsins, putting them upon the head of the goat, and shall send him away\nby the hand of a fit man into the wilderness. And the goat shall bear\nupon him all their iniquities unto a land not inhabited: and he shall\nlet go the goat in the wilderness.'[149] This brings up the subject of\ncharms and magic, and is illustrated in Wales, if not by the\nSin-eater, by the cock and hen of St. Tegla's Well. This well is about\nhalf-way between Wrexham and Ruthin, in the parish of Llandegla, and\nhas been considered efficacious in curing epilepsy. One of the common\nnames of that complaint in Welsh is Clwyf y Tegla, (Tegla's disease).\nRelief is obtained by bathing in the well, and performing a\nsuperstitious ceremony in this manner: The patient repairs to the well\nafter sunset, and washes himself in it; then, having made an offering\nby throwing into the water fourpence, he walks round it three times,\nand thrice recites the Lord's Prayer. If of the male sex, he offers a\ncock; if a woman, a hen. The bird is carried in a basket, first round\nthe well, then round the church, and the rite of repeating the Pater\nNoster again performed. After all this, he enters the church, creeps\nunder the altar, and making the Bible his pillow and the communion\ncloth his coverlet, remains there until the break of day. In the\nmorning, having made a further offering of sixpence, he leaves the\ncock (or hen, as the case may be) and departs. 'Should the bird die,\nit is supposed that the disease has been transferred to it, and the\nman or woman consequently cured.'[150] The custom is associated with\nthe ancient Druids as well as with the Jews, and its resemblance to\nthe scapegoat is suggestive.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[149] Levit. xvi., 21, 22.\n\n[150] Ab Ithel, 'Arch. Camb.' 1st Se., i., 184.\n\n\nV.\n\nThe funeral procession, in rural districts where hearses are unknown,\nwends its way graveward on foot, with the corpse borne by the nearest\nrelatives of the deceased, a custom probably introduced in Wales\nduring their residence here by the Romans. The coffin of Metellus, the\nconqueror of Macedon, was borne by his four sons. The coffins of Roman\ncitizens held in high esteem by the Republic, were borne by justices\nand senators, while those of the enemies of the people were borne by\nslaves and hired servants. As the Welsh procession winds its way along\nthe green lanes, psalms and hymns are sung continually, except on\ncoming to cross-roads. Here the bier is set down, and all kneel and\nrepeat the Lord's Prayer. The origin of this custom, as given by the\nWelsh, is to be found in the former practice of burying criminals at\ncross-roads. It was believed that the spirits of these criminals did\nnot go far away from the place where their bodies lay, and the\nrepeating of the Lord's Prayer was supposed to destroy and do away\nwith any evil influence these spirits might have on the soul of the\ndear departed.[151]\n\nThe Welsh retain much of the superstitious feeling regarding the\ngraves of criminals and suicides. There is indeed a strong prejudice\nagainst hanging, on account of the troublesome spirits thus let loose.\nThe well-known leniency of a 'Cardigan jury' may be connected with\nthis prejudice, though it is usually associated with a patriotic\nfeeling. 'What! would you have hur hang hur own countryman?' is the\nfamous response of a Cardigan juror, who was asked why he and his\nbrethren acquitted a murderer. The tale may be only a legend; the fact\nit illustrates is patent. It is related that in a dispute between two\nCardigan farmers, some fifty years ago, one of them killed the other.\nThe jury, believing the killing was unintentional, acquitted the\nhomicide; but 'whether the man was guilty or not, his neighbours and\nthe people who lived in the district, and who knew the spot where the\nfarmer was killed, threw a stone upon it whenever they passed,\nprobably to show their abhorrence of the deed that had been\nperpetrated in that place. By this means a large heap of stones, which\nwas allowed to remain for many years, arose.'[152] They were then\nremoved to repair the turnpike. This custom is apparently Jewish.\nHangings are almost unknown in Wales, whether from the extra morality\nof the people, or the prejudice above noted.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[151] 'Cymru Fu,' 92.\n\n[152] 'Bye-gones,' March 22, 1876.\n\n\nVI.\n\nThe legend of the Grassless Grave is a well-known Montgomeryshire\ntale, concerning a certain spot of earth in the graveyard of\nMontgomery Castle, upon which the verdure is less luxuriant than in\nother portions of the yard. One dark November night, many years ago,\na man named John Newton, who had been at Welshpool fair, set out for\nhome. Soon after, he was brought back to Welshpool in the custody of\ntwo men, who charged him with highway robbery, a crime then punishable\nwith death. He was tried, and executed, in spite of his protestations;\nand in his last speech, admitting he had committed a former crime, but\nprotesting he was innocent of this, he said: 'I have offered a prayer\nto Heaven, and believe it has been heard and accepted. And in meek\ndependence on a merciful God, whom I have offended, but who, through\nthe atonement of His blessed Son, has, I trust, pardoned my offence, I\nventure to assert that as I am innocent of the crime for which I\nsuffer, the grass, for one generation at least, will not cover my\ngrave.' For thirty years thereafter, the grave was grassless; a bare\nspot in the shape of a coffin marked, amidst the surrounding\nluxuriance, the place where lay the penitent criminal, unjustly\nexecuted. Then a sacrilegious hand planted the spot with turf; but it\nwithered as if blasted by lightning; and the grave is still\ngrassless--certainly an unnecessary extension of the time set by the\ndefunct for its testimony to his innocence.\n\n\nVII.\n\nA curious surviving custom at Welsh funerals is the Offrwm, or\nparson's penny. After having read the burial service in the church,\nthe parson stands behind a table while a psalm is being sung, and to\nhim go the mourners, one and all, and deposit a piece of money on the\ntable. The parson counts it, states the amount, and pockets it. If the\nmourner depositing his offrwm be wealthy, he will give perhaps a\nguinea; if a farmer or tradesman, his gift will be a crown; and if\npoor, he will lay down his sixpence. 'Each one that intended making an\noffering of silver, would go up to the altar in his turn, and after\neach one had contributed there would be a respite, after which those\nwho gave copper as their offering went forward and did likewise; but\nno coppers were offered at any respectable funeral. These offerings\noften reached the sum of ten and even twenty pounds in the year.' Thus\nthe Welsh work, 'Cymru Fu,' speaking as usual in the past tense; but\nthe custom is a present-day one. The Welsh believe that this custom\nwas originally intended to compensate the clergyman for praying for\nthe soul of the departed. It has now ceased to mean anything more than\na tribute of respect to the deceased, or a token of esteem towards the\nofficiating clergyman.\n\nIn the parish of Defynog, Breconshire, there was a custom (up to 1843,\nwhen it seems to have ceased through the angry action of a lawless\nwidower,) of giving to the parish clerk the best pair of shoes and\nstockings left behind by the defunct.[153]\n\nA still more curious form of the offrwm, which also survives in many\nrural neighbourhoods, is called the Arian y Rhaw, or spade money. At\nthe grave, the gravedigger rubs the soil off his spade, extends it for\ndonations, and receives a piece of silver from each one in turn, which\nhe also pockets. In Merionethshire the money is received at the grave\nin a bowl, instead of on the spade, and the gift is simply called the\noffrwm. 'I well recollect, when a lad,' says an entertaining\ncorrespondent,[154] 'at Llanrhaiadr-yn-Mochnant, seeing the clerk or\nsexton cleaning his spade with the palm of his hand, and blowing the\nremaining dust, so that the instrument of his calling should be clean\nand presentable, and then, with due and clerk-like gravity, presenting\nhis polished spade, first to the \"cyfneseifiaid\" (next-of-kin), and\nthen to the mourners one by one, giving all an opportunity of showing\ntheir respect to the dead, by giving the clerk the accustomed offrwm.\nAt times the old clerk, \"yr hen glochydd,\" when collecting the offrwm,\nrather than go around the grave to the people, to the no small\nannoyance of the friends, would reach his spade over the grave. At the\nparticular time referred to, the clerk, having nearly had all the\noffrwm, saw that facetious wag and practical joker, Mr. B., extending\nhis offering towards him from the opposite side of the grave. The\nclerk, as was his wont, extended the spade over the grave towards the\noffered gift. The opportunity for fun was not to be lost, and whilst\nplacing his offrwm on the spade, Mr. B. pressed on one corner, and the\nspade turned in the hands of the unwitting clerk, emptying the whole\noffering into the grave, to the no small surprise of the clerk, who\nnever forgot the lesson, and the great amusement of the standers-by.'\nIt is noted in this connection that the sexton's spade 'was a terror\nto the superstitious, for if the gravedigger would but shake his spade\nat anyone, it was a matter of but short time ere the sexton would be\ncalled upon to dig the grave of that person who had come under the\nevil influence of the spade. \"Has the sexton shook his spade at you?\"\nwas a question often put to a person in bad health.'\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[153] 'Arch. Camb.,' 2nd Se., iv., 326.\n\n[154] 'Bye-gones,' Oct. 17, 1877.\n\n\nVIII.\n\nUntil a recent date, burials without a coffin were common in some\nparts of Wales. Old people in Montgomeryshire not many years ago,\ncould remember such burials, in what was called the cadach deupen, or\ncloth with two heads. Old Richard Griffith, of Trefeglwys, who died\nmany years ago, recollected a burial in this fashion there, when the\ncloth gave way and was rent; whereupon the clergyman prohibited any\nfurther burials in that churchyard without a coffin. That was the last\nburial of the kind which took place in Montgomeryshire.[155]\n\nIn the middle ages there was a Welsh custom of burying the dead in the\ngarment of a monk, as a protection against evil spirits. This was\npopular among the wealthy, and was a goodly source of priestly\nrevenue.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[155] 'Bye-gones,' Nov. 22, 1876.\n\n\nIX.\n\nSul Coffa is an old Welsh custom of honouring the dead on the Sunday\nfollowing the funeral, and for several succeeding Sundays, until the\nviolence of grief has abated. In the Journal of Thomas Dinelly,\nEsquire, an Englishman who travelled through Wales and Ireland in the\nreign of Charles II.,[156] this passage occurs, after description of\nthe wake, the keening, etc.: 'This done y{e} Irish bury their dead,\nand if it be in or neer y{e} burying place of that family, the\nservants and followers hugg kiss howle and weep over the skulls that\nare there digg'd up and once a week for a quarter of an year after\ncome two or three and pay more noyse at the place.' The similarity in\nspirit between this and the Welsh Sul Coffa is as striking as the\ndifference in practice. The Welsh walk quietly and gravely to the\nsolemn mound beneath which rest the remains of the loved, and there\nkneeling in silence for five or ten minutes, pray or appear to pray.\n\nThe Sul Coffa of Ivan the Harper is a well-known anecdote. Ivan the\nHarper was a noted character in his day, who desired that his coffa\nshould be thus: 'I should like,' said he, on his death-bed, 'to have\nmy coffa; but not in the old style. Instead of the old custom ask\nWilliams of Merllyn and Richard the Harper to attend the church at\nLlanfwrog, and give these, my disciples, my two harps, and after the\nservice is over, let them walk to my grave; let Williams sit at the\nhead and Richard at the feet, of my grave, and let them play seven\nWelsh airs, beginning with Dafydd y Garreg Wen,' (David of the White\nStone) 'and ending with, Toriad y Dydd,' (the Dawn.) 'The former is in\na flat key, like death, and the latter is as sober as the day of\njudgment.' This request was religiously obeyed by the mourners on the\nensuing Sul Coffa.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[156] Quoted in the Proceedings of the Kilkenny Arch. Soc., 1858.\n\n\nX.\n\nReference has been made, in the chapter on courtship and marriage, to\nthe Welsh practice of planting graves with flowers. There are graves\nin Glamorganshire which have been kept blooming with flowers for\nnearly a century without interruption, through the loving care of\ndescendants of the departed. By a most graceful custom which also\nprevailed until recently, each mourner at a funeral carried in his\nhand a sprig of rosemary, which he threw into the grave. The Pagan\npractice of throwing a sprig of cypress into the grave has been\nthought to symbolize the annihilation of the body, as these sprigs\nwould not grow if set in the earth: whereas the rosemary was to\nsignify the resurrection or up-springing of the body from the grave.\nThe existing custom of throwing flowers and immortelles into the grave\nis derivable from the ancient practice. But the Welsh carry the\nassociation of graves and floral life to the most lavish extreme, as\nhas already been pointed out. Shakspeare has alluded to this in\n'Cymbeline,' the scene of which tragedy is principally in\nPembrokeshire, at and about Milford Haven:\n\n              _Arv._ With fairest flowers,\n    Whilst summer lasts, and I live here, Fidele,\n    I'll sweeten thy sad grave: Thou shalt not lack\n    The flower, that's like thy face, pale primrose; nor\n    The azur'd harebell, like thy veins; no, nor\n    The leaf of eglantine, whom not to slander,\n    Outsweeten'd not thy breath.[157]\n\n  [Music: DAFYDD Y GARREG WEN.]\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[157] 'Cymbeline,' Act IV., Sc. 2.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK IV.\n\nBELLS, WELLS, STONES, AND DRAGONS.\n\n    Gorgons, and hydras, and chimeras dire.\n                    MILTON: _Paradise Lost_.\n\n    Then up there raise ane wee wee man\n      Franethe the moss-gray stane;\n    His face was wan like the collifloure,\n      For he nouthir had blude nor bane.\n                    HOGG: _The Witch of Fife_.\n\n                          ... where he stood,\n    Of auncient time there was a springing well,\n    From which fast trickled forth a silver flood,\n    Full of great vertues, and for med'cine good: ...\n    For unto life the dead it could restore.\n                    SPENSER: _Faerie Queene_.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\n    Base of the Primeval Mythology--Bells and their Ghosts--The\n    Bell that committed Murder and was damned for it--The Occult\n    Powers of Bells--Their Work as Detectives, Doctors,\n    etc.--Legend of the Bell of Rhayader--St. Illtyd's Wonderful\n    Bell--The Golden Bell of Llandaff.\n\n\nI.\n\nThe human mind in its infancy turns instinctively to fetichism. The\nmind of primeval man resembled that of a child. Children have to learn\nby experience that the fire which burns them is not instigated by\nmalice.[158] In his primitive condition, man personified everything\nin nature. Animate and inanimate objects were alike endowed with\nfeelings, passions, emotions, moral qualities. On this basis rests the\nprimeval mythology.\n\nThe numerous superstitions associated with bells, wells and stones in\nWales, excite constant inquiries as regards their origin in fetichism,\nin paganism, in solar worship, or in church observances. That bells,\nespecially, should suggest the supernatural to the vulgar mind is not\nstrange. The occult powers of bells have place in the popular belief\nof many lands. The Flemish child who wonders how the voices got into\nthe bells is paralleled by the Welsh lad who hears the bells of\nAberdovey talking in metrical words to a musical chime. The ghosts of\nbells are believed to haunt the earth in many parts of Wales. Allusion\nhas been made to those castle bells which are heard ringing from the\nsubmerged towers in Crumlyn lake. Like fancies are associated with\nmany Welsh lakes. In Langorse Pool, Breconshire, an ancient city is\nsaid to lie buried, from whose cathedral bells on a calm day may be\nheard a faint and muffled chime, pealing solemnly far down in the\nsepial depths. A legend of Trefethin relates that in the church of St.\nCadoc, at that place, was a bell of wondrous powers, a gift from\nLlewellyn ap Iorwerth, Lord of Caerleon. A little child who had\nclimbed to the belfry was struck by the bell and killed, not through\nthe wickedness of the bell itself, but through a spell which had been\nput upon the unfortunate instrument by an evil spirit. But though\ninnocent of murderous intent, the wretched bell became forfeit to the\ndemons on account of its fatal deed. They seized it and bore it down\nthrough the earth to the shadow-realm of annwn. And ever since that\nday, when a child is accidentally slain at Trefethin, the bell of St.\nCadoc is heard tolling mournfully underneath the ground where it\ndisappeared ages ago.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[158] A Mississippi negro-boy who was brought by a friend of mine from\nhis southern home to a northern city, and who had never seen snow,\nfound the ground one morning covered with what he supposed to be salt,\nand going out to get some, returned complaining that it 'bit his\nfingers.'\n\n\nII.\n\nThere was anciently a belief that the sound of brass would break\nenchantment, as well as cause it; and it is presumed that the original\npurpose of the common custom of tolling the bell for the dead was to\ndrive away evil spirits. Originally, the bell was tolled not for the\ndead, but for the dying; it was believed that evil spirits were\nhovering about the sick chamber, waiting to pounce on the soul as soon\nas it should get free from the body; and the bell was tolled for the\npurpose of driving them away. Later, the bell was not tolled till\ndeath had occurred, and this form of the custom survives here, as in\nmany lands. Before the Reformation there was kept in all Welsh\nchurches a handbell, which was taken by the sexton to the house where\na funeral was to be held, and rung at the head of the procession. When\nthe voices of the singers were silent at the end of a psalm, the bell\nwould take up the burden of complaint in measured and mournful tones,\nand ring till another psalm was begun. It was at this period deemed\nsacred. The custom survived long after the Reformation in many places,\nas at Caerleon, the little Monmouthshire village which was a bustling\nRoman city when London was a hamlet. The bell--called the bangu--was\nstill preserved in the parish of Llanfair Duffryn Clwyd half-a-dozen\nyears ago. I believe the custom of ringing a handbell before the\ncorpse on its way through the streets is still observed at Oxford,\nwhen a university man is buried. The town marshal is the bellman for\nthis office. The custom is associated with the same superstitious\nbelief which is seen in the 'passing bell,' the notes of pure bronze\nfreeing the soul from the power of evil spirits.\n\n\nIII.\n\nThe Welsh were formerly strong in the belief that bells could perform\nmiracles, detect thieves, heal the sick, and the like. In many\ninstances they were possessed of locomotive powers, and would\ntransport themselves from place to place when they had occasion,\naccording to their own sweet will, and without human intervention. It\nis even recorded that certain handbells required to be tied with the\ndouble cord of an exorcism and a piece of twine, or they would get up\nand walk off in the night.\n\nBells which presaged storms, as well as other disasters, have been\nbelieved to exist in many parts of Wales. In Pembrokeshire the\nunexpected tolling of a church bell in the night is held to be the\nsure precursor of a calamity--a belief which may be paralleled in\nLondon, where there are still people who believe such tolling on the\npart of the great bell of St. Paul's portends disaster to the royal\nfamily. In the Cromwellian wars, the sacrilegious followers of the\nstern old castle-hater carried off a great bell from St. David's,\nPembrokeshire. They managed to get it on shipboard, but in passing\nthrough Ramsey Sound the vessel was wrecked--a direct result, the\nsuperstitious said, of profanely treating the bell. Ever since that\ntime, Pembroke people have been able to hear this sunken bell ring\nfrom its watery grave when a storm is rising.\n\n\nIV.\n\nThe legend of the Bell of Rhayader perpetuates a class of story which\nreappears in other parts of Great Britain. It was in the twelfth\ncentury that a certain contumacious knight was imprisoned in the\ncastle of Rhayader. His wife, being devoted to him, and a good\nCatholic, besought the aid of the monks to get him out. They were\nequal to the occasion, at least in so far as to provide for her\nservice a magical bell, which possessed the power of liberating from\nconfinement any prisoner who should set it up on the wall and ring it.\nThe wife succeeded in getting the bell secretly into her husband's\npossession, and he set it up on the wall and rang it. But although he\nhad gathered his belongings together and was fully prepared to go, the\ndoors of his prison refused to open. The castellan mocked at the\nmagical bell, and kept the knight in durance vile. So therefore (for\nof course the story could not be allowed to end here) the castle was\nstruck by lightning, and both it and the town were burned in one\nnight--excepting only the wall upon which the magic bell was hanging.\nNothing remains of the castle walls in this day.\n\n\nV.\n\nThe bell of St. Illtyd was greatly venerated in the middle ages. A\nlegend concerning this wonderful bell relates that a certain king had\nstolen it from the church, and borne it into England, tied about the\nneck of one of his horses. For this deed the king was destroyed, but\nrepenting before his death, ordered the bell to be restored to its\nplace in Wales. Without waiting to be driven, the horse with the bell\nabout his neck set out for Wales, followed by a whole drove of horses,\ndrawn by the melodious sound of the bell. Wonderful to tell, the horse\nwas able to cross the river Severn and come into Wales, the great\ncollection of horses following. 'Then hastening along the shore, and\nover the mountains, and through the woods, he came to the road which\nwent towards Glamorgan, all the horses hearing, and following the\nsweet sound.' When they came to the banks of the river Taff, a\nclergyman heard the sound of the bell, and went out to meet the horse,\nand they together carried the bell to the gate of St. Illtyd's church.\nThere the horse bent down and loosed his precious burden from his\nneck, 'and it fell on a stone, from which fall a part of it was\nbroken, which is to be seen until the present day, in memory of the\neminent miracle.'[159]\n\nSome thirty years ago a bell was discovered at Llantwit Major, in\nGlamorganshire, which was thought to be the identical bell of this\nsaint. The village named was the scene of his exploits, many of which\nwere miraculous to the point of Arabian Nights marvelousness. The\ndiscovered bell was inscribed 'Sancte Iltute, ora pro nobis,' and\nstood upon the gable of the quaint old town-hall. But though the bell\nwas unmistakably ancient, it bore intrinsic evidence of having been\ncast long after the saint's death, when his name had become venerated.\nHe was one of King Arthur's soldiers, who afterwards renounced the\nworld, and founded several churches in Glamorganshire.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[159] 'Cambro-British Saints,' 492.\n\n\nVI.\n\nAmong the many legends of Llandaff which still linger familiarly on\nthe lips of the people is that of the bell of St. Oudoceus, second\nbishop of that see. In the ancient 'Book of Llandaff,' where are\npreserved the records of that cathedral from the earliest days of\nChristianity on this island, the legend is thus related: 'St.\nOudoceus, being thirsty after undergoing labour, and more accustomed\nto drink water than any other liquor, came to a fountain in the vale\nof Llandaff, not far from the church, that he might drink, where he\nfound women washing butter, after the manner of the country; and\nsending to them his messengers and disciples, they requested that they\nwould accommodate them with a vessel, that their pastor might drink\ntherefrom; who, ironically, as mischievous girls, said, \"We have no\ncup besides that which we hold in our hands, namely, the butter.\" And\nthe man of blessed memory taking it, formed one in the shape of a\nsmall bell, and he raised his hand so that he might drink therefrom,\nand he drank. And it remained in that form, that is, a golden one, so\nthat it appeared to those who beheld it to consist altogether of the\npurest gold, which, by divine power, is from that day reverently\npreserved in the church of Llandaff in memory of the holy man, and it\nis said that by touching it health is given to the diseased.'[160]\n\n  [Music: CLYCHAU ABERDYFI.\n      (The Bells of Aberdovey.)]\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[160] 'Liber Landavensis,' 378.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\n    Mystic Wells--Their Good and Bad Dispositions--St.\n    Winifred's Well--The Legend of St. Winifred--Miracles--St.\n    Tecla's Well--St. Dwynwen's--Curing Love-sickness--St.\n    Cynfran's--St. Cynhafal's--Throwing Pins in\n    Wells--Warts--Barry Island and its Legends--Ffynon\n    Gwynwy--Propitiatory Gifts to Wells--The Dreadful Cursing\n    Well of St. Elian's--Wells Flowing with Milk--St.\n    Illtyd's--Taff's Well--Sanford's Well--Origins of\n    Superstitions of this Class.\n\n\nI.\n\nThe waters of mystery which flow at Lourdes, in France, are paralleled\nin numberless Welsh parishes. In every corner of Cambria may be found\nwells which possess definite attributes, malicious or beneficent,\nwhich they are popularly supposed to actively exert toward mankind. In\nalmost every instance, the name of the tutelary saint to whom the well\nis consecrated is known to the peasantry, and generally they can tell\nyou something about him, or her. Unnumbered centuries have elapsed\nsince the saint lived; nay, generation upon generation has perished\nsince any complete knowledge of his life or character existed, save in\nmouldering manuscripts left by monks, themselves long turned to dust;\nyet the tradition of the saint as regards the well is there, a living\nthing beside its waters. However lightly some forms of superstition\nmay at times be treated by the vulgar, they are seldom capable of\nirreverent remark concerning the well. In many cases this respect\namounts to awe.\n\nThese wells are of varying power and disposition. Some are healing\nwells; others are cursing wells; still others combine the power alike\nto curse and to cure. Some are sovereign in their influence over all\nthe diseases from which men suffer, mental and moral as well as\nphysical; others can cure but one disease, or one specific class of\ndiseases; and others remedy all the misfortunes of the race, make the\npoor rich, the unhappy happy, and the unlucky lucky. That these\nvarious reputations arose in some wells from medicinal qualities found\nby experience to dwell in the waters, is clear at a glance; but in\nmany cases the character of the patron saint gives character to the\nwell. In parishes dedicated to the Virgin Mary there will almost\ninevitably be found a Ffynon Mair, (Well of Mary,) the waters of which\nare supposed to be purer than the waters of other wells. Sometimes the\npeople will take the trouble to go a long distance for water from the\nFfynon Mair, though a good well may be nearer, in whose water chemical\nanalysis can find no difference. Formerly, and indeed until within a\nfew years past, no water would do for baptizing but that fetched from\nthe Ffynon Mair, though it were a mile or more from the church. That\nthe water flowed southward was in some cases held to be a secret of\nits virtue. In other instances, wells which opened and flowed eastward\nwere thought to afford the purest water.\n\n\nII.\n\nMost renowned and most frequented of Welsh wells is St. Winifred's, at\nHolywell. By the testimony of tradition it has been flowing for eleven\nhundred and eighty years, or since the year 700, and during all this\ntime has been constantly visited by throngs of invalids; and that it\nwill continue to be so frequented for a thousand years to come is not\ndoubted, apparently, by the members of the Holywell Local Board, who\nhave just taken a lease of the well from the Duke of Westminster for\n999 years more, at an annual rental of L1. The town of Holywell\nprobably owes not only name but existence to this well. Its miraculous\npowers are extensively believed in by the Welsh, and by people from\nall parts of Great Britain and the United States; but Drayton's\nassertion that no dog could be drowned in its waters, on account of\ntheir beneficent disposition, is not an article of the existing faith.\nThe most prodigious fact in connection with this wonderful fountain,\nwhen its legendary origin is contemplated, is its size, its abounding\nlife, the great volume of its waters. A well which discharges\ntwenty-one tons of water per minute, which feeds an artificial lake\nand runs a mill, and has cured unnumbered thousands of human beings of\ntheir ills for hundreds of years, is surely one of the wonders of the\nworld, to which even mystic legend can only add one marvel more.\n\nThe legend of St. Winifred, or Gwenfrewi, as she is called in Welsh,\nwas related by the British monk Elerius in the year 660, or by Robert\nof Salop in 1190, and is in the Cotton MSS. in the British Museum. It\nis there written in characters considered to be of the middle of the\neleventh century. Winifred was the daughter of a valiant soldier in\nNorth Wales; from her youth she loved a heavenly spouse, and refused\ntransitory men. One day Caradoc, a descendant of royal stock, came to\nher house fatigued from hunting wild beasts, and asked Winifred for\ndrink. But seeing the beauty of the nymph he forgot his thirst in his\nadmiration, and at once besought her to treat him with the familiarity\nof a sweetheart. Winifred refused, asserting that she was engaged to\nbe married to another. Caradoc became furious at this, and said,\n'Leave off this foolish, frivolous, and trifling mode of speaking, and\nconsent to my wish.' Then he asked her to be his wife. Finding he\nwould not be denied, Winifred had recourse to a stratagem to escape\nfrom him: she pretended to comply, but asked leave to first make a\nbecoming toilet. Caradoc agreed, on condition that she should make it\nquickly. The girl went through her chamber with swift feet into the\nvalley, and was escaping, when Caradoc perceived the trick, and\nmounting his horse spurred after her. He overtook her at the very door\nof the monastery to which she was fleeing; before she could place her\nfoot within the threshold he struck off her head at one blow. St.\nBeino coming quickly to the door saw bloody Caradoc standing with his\nstained sword in his hand, and immediately cursed him as he stood, so\nthat the bloody man melted in his sight like wax before a fire. Beino\nthen took the virgin's head (which had been thrown inside the door by\nthe blow which severed it) and fitted it on the neck of the corpse.\nWinifred thereupon revived, with no further harm than a small line on\nher neck. But the floor upon which her bloody head had fallen, cracked\nopen, and a fountain sprang up like a torrent at the spot. 'And the\nstones appear bloody at present as they did at first, and the moss\nsmells as frankincense, and it cures divers diseases.'[161] Thus far\nthe monastic legend. Some say that Caradoc's descendants were doomed\nto bark like dogs.\n\nAmong the miracles related of Winifred's well by her monkish\nbiographer is one characterized as 'stupendous,' concerning three\nbright stones which were seen in the middle of the ebullition of the\nfountain, ascending and descending, 'up and down by turns, after the\nmanner of stones projected by a shooter.' They so continued to dance\nfor many years, but one day an unlucky woman was seized with a desire\nto play with the stones. So she took hold of one; whereat they all\nvanished, and the woman died. This miracle was supplemented by that of\na man who was rebuked for theft at the fountain; and on his denying\nhis guilt, the goat which he had stolen and eaten became his accuser\nby uttering an audible bleating from his belly. But the miracles of\nWinifred's well are for the most part records of wonderful cures from\ndisease and deformity. Withered and useless limbs were made whole and\nuseful; the dumb bathed in the water, came out, and asked for their\nclothes; the blind washed and received their sight; lunatics 'troubled\nby unclean spirits' were brought to the well in chains, 'tearing with\ntheir teeth and speaking vain things,' but returned homeward in full\npossession of their reason. Fevers, paralysis, epilepsy, stone, gout,\ncancers, piles--these are but a few of the diseases cured by the\nmarvellous well, on the testimony of the ancient chronicler of the\nCotton MSS. 'Nor is it to be hidden in the silence of Lethean oblivion\nthat after the expulsion of the Franks from all North Wales' the\nfountain flowed with a milky liquor for the space of three days. A\npriest bottled some of it, and it 'was carried about and drunk in all\ndirections,' curing diseases in the same manner as the well itself.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[161] 'Cambro-British Saints,' 519.\n\n\nIII.\n\nOnly second in fame to Winifred's, among the Welsh themselves, is St.\nTecla's well, or Ffynon Tegla, in Denbighshire. It springs out of a\nbog called Gwern Degla, about two hundred yards from the parish church\nof Llandegla. Some account of the peculiar superstitious ceremony\nconnected with this well has already been given, in the chapter\ntreating of the sin-eater. It is there suggested that the cock to\nwhich the fits are transferred by the patient at the well is a\nsubstitute for the scapegoat of the Jews. The parish clerk of\nLlandegla in 1855 said that an old man of his acquaintance 'remembered\nquite well seeing the birds staggering about from the effects of the\nfits' which had been transferred to them.\n\n\nIV.\n\nOf great celebrity in other days was St. Dwynwen's well, in the parish\nof Llandwyn, Anglesea. This saint being patron saint of lovers, her\nwell possessed the property of curing love-sickness. It was visited by\ngreat numbers, of both sexes, in the fourteenth century, when the\npopular faith in its waters seems to have been at its strongest. It is\nstill frequented by young women of that part of the country when\nsuffering from the woes inflicted by Dan Cupid. That the well itself\nhas been for many years covered over with sand does not prevent the\nfaithful from displaying their devotion; they seek their cure from\n'the water next to the well.' Ffynon Dwynwen, or Fountain of Venus,\nwas also a name given to the sea, according to the Iolo MSS.; and in\nthe legend of Seithenhin the Drunkard, in the 'Black Book of\nCarmarthen,' this stanza occurs:\n\n    Accursed be the damsel,\n    Who, after the wailing,\n    Let loose the Fountain of Venus, the raging deep.[162]\n\nThe story of Aphrodite, born from the foam of the sea, need only be\nalluded to here.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[162] 'Black Book of Carmarthen,' xxxviii. (An ancient MS. in the\nHengwrt collection, which belonged of old to the priory of Black\nCanons at Carmarthen, and at the dissolution of the religious houses\nin Wales, when their libraries were dispersed, was given by the\ntreasurer of St. David's Church to Sir John Price, one of Henry\nVIII.'s commissioners.)\n\n\nV.\n\nSeveral wells appear to have been devoted to the cure of the lower\nanimals' diseases. Such was the well of Cynfran, where this\nejaculation was made use of: 'Rhad Duw a Chynfran lwydd ar y\nda!'--(the grace of God and the blessed Cynfran on the cattle.) This\nCynfran was one of the many sons of the patriarch Brychan, and his\nwell is near Abergeleu. Pennant speaks also of a well near Abergeleu,\nwhich he calls St. George's well, and says that there the British Mars\nhad his offering of horses; 'for the rich were wont to offer one, to\nsecure his blessing on all the rest. He was the tutelar saint of those\nanimals.'\n\n\nVI.\n\nSt. Cynhafal's well, on a hillside in Llangynhafal parish,\nDenbighshire, is one of those curing wells in which pins are thrown.\nIts specialty is warts. To exorcise your wart you stick a pin in it\nand then throw the pin into this well; the wart soon vanishes. The\nwart is a form of human trouble which appears to have been at all\ntimes and in all countries a special subject of charms, both in\nconnection with wells and with pins. Where a well of the requisite\nvirtue is not conveniently near, the favourite form of charm for\nwart-curing is in connection with the wasting away of some selected\nobject. Having first been pricked into the wart, the pin is then\nthrust into the selected object--in Gloucestershire it is a snail--and\nthen the object is buried or impaled on a blackthorn in a hedge, and\nas it perishes the wart will disappear. The scapegoat principle of\nthe sin-eater also appears in connection with charming away warts, as\nwhere a 'vagrom man' counts your warts, marks their number in his hat,\nand goes away, taking the warts with him into the next county--for a\ntrifling consideration.[163]\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[163] A popular belief among boys in some parts of the United States\nis that warts can be rubbed off upon a toad impaled with a sharp\nstick; as the toad dies the warts will go. _Per contra_, this cruel\nfaith is offset by a theory that toads if ill-treated can spit upon\ntheir aggressors' hands and thus cause warts.\n\n\nVII.\n\nOn Barry Island, near Cardiff, is the famous well of St. Barruc, or\nBarri, which was still frequented by the credulous up to May, 1879, at\nwhich time the island was closed against visitors by its owner, Lord\nWindsor, and converted into a rabbit warren. Tradition directs that on\nHoly Thursday he who is troubled with any disease of the eyes shall go\nto this well, and having thoroughly washed his eyes in its water,\nshall drop a pin in it. The innkeeper there formerly found great\nnumbers of pins--a pint, in one instance--when cleaning out the well.\nIt had long been utterly neglected by the sole resident of the island,\nwhose house was a long distance from the well, at a point nearer the\nmain land; but pins were still discovered there from time to time.\nThere was in old days a chapel on this island; no vestige of it\nremains. Tradition says that St. Barruc was buried there, and the now\nbarren and deserted islet appears to have been anciently a popular\nplace among the saints. St. Cadoc had one of his residences\nthere.[164] He was one day sitting on a hill-top in that island when\nhe saw the two saints Barruc and Gwalches drawing near in a boat, and\nas he looked the boat was overturned by the wind. Both saints were\ndrowned, and Cadoc's manual book, which they had in the boat with\nthem, was lost in the sea. But when Cadoc proceeded to order his\ndinner, a salmon was brought to him which being cut open was found to\nhave the missing manual book in its belly in an unimpaired condition.\nConcerning another saint whose name was Barri, a wonderful story is\ntold that one day being on a visit to St. David he borrowed the\nlatter's horse and rode across the sea from Pembrokeshire to the Irish\ncoast. Many have supposed this Barri to be the same person as Barruc,\nbut they were two men.\n\nThis romantic island was anciently celebrated for certain ghastly\nnoises which were heard in it--sounds resembling the clanking of\nchains, hammering of iron, and blowing of bellows--and which were\nsupposed to be made by the fiends whom Merlin had set to work to frame\nthe wall of brass to surround Carmarthen. So the noises and eruptions\nof Etna and Stromboli were in ancient times ascribed to Typhon or\nVulcan. But in the case of Barry I have been unable, by any assistance\nfrom imagination, to detect these mystic sounds in our day. Camden, in\nhis 'Britannica,' makes a like remark, but says the tradition was\nuniversally prevalent. The judicious Malkin, however, thinks it\nrequires but a moderate stretch of fancy to create this cyclopean\nimagery, when the sea at high tides is often in possession of cavities\nunder the very feet of the stranger, and its voice is at once modified\nand magnified by confinement and repercussion.[165]\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[164] 'Cambro-British Saints,' 336.\n\n[165] Malkin's 'South Wales,' 132.\n\n\nVIII.\n\nAnother well whose specialty is warts is a small spring called Ffynon\nGwynwy, near Llangelynin church, Carnarvonshire. The pins used here\nmust be crooked in order to be efficacious. It is said that fifty\nyears ago the bottom of this little well was covered with pins; and\nthat everybody was careful not to touch them, fearing that the warts\ndeposited with the pins would grow upon their own hands if they did\nso.[166] At present the well is overgrown with weeds, like that on\nBarry Island.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[166] 'Arch. Camb.,' 3rd Se., xiii., 61.\n\n\nIX.\n\nThe use of pins for purposes of enchantment is one of the most curious\nfeatures of popular superstition. Trivial as it appears to superficial\nobservation, it can be associated with a vast number of mystic rites\nand ceremonials, and with times the most ancient. There is no doubt\nthat before the invention of pins in this country small pieces of\nmoney were thrown into the well instead; indeed it was asserted by a\nwriter in the 'Archaeologia Cambrensis' in 1856 that money was still\nthrown into St. Tecla's well, by persons desirous of recovering from\nfits. That the same practice prevailed among the Romans is shown by\nPliny, who speaks of the sacred spring of the Clitumnus, so pure and\nclear that you may count the pieces of money that have been thrown\ninto it, and the shining pebbles at the bottom. And in connection with\nthe Welsh well of St. Elian there was formerly a box into which the\nsick dropped money as they nowadays drop a pin into that well. This\nbox was called cyff-elian, and was in the form of a trunk studded with\nnails, with an aperture in the top through which the money was\ndropped. It is said to have got so full of coins that the parishioners\nopened it, and with the contents purchased three farms. The\npresentation of pins to the well, though now a meaningless rite on the\npart of those who practice it, was originally intended as a\npropitiatory offering to the evil spirit of the well. In some\ninstances the heathen faith is virtually restored, and the well\nendowed with supernatural powers irrespective of the dedication of its\nwaters to a Christian saint. Indeed in the majority of cases where\nthese wells are now resorted to by the peasantry for any other than\ncurative purposes, the fetichistic impulse is much more conspicuous\nthan any influence associated with religious teaching.\n\n\nX.\n\nSt. Elian's is accounted the most dreadful well in Wales. It is in the\nparish of Llanelian, Denbighshire. It is at the head of the cursing\nwells, of which there are but few in the Principality, and holds still\na strong influence over the ignorant mind. The popular belief is that\nyou can 'put' your enemy 'into' this well, i.e., render him subject to\nits evil influence, so that he will pine away and perhaps die unless\nthe curse be removed. The degree and nature of the curse can be\nmodified as the 'offerer' desires, so that the obnoxious person will\nsuffer aches and pains in his body, or troubles in his pocket--the\nslings and arrows of outrageous fortune. The minister of the well\nappears to be some heartless wretch residing in the neighbourhood,\nwhose services are enlisted for a small fee. The name of the person to\nbe 'put into' the well is registered in a book kept by the wretch\naforesaid, and a pin is cast into the well in his name, together with\na pebble inscribed with its initials. The person so cursed soon hears\nof it, and the fact preys on his mind; he imagines for himself every\nconceivable ill, and if gifted with a lively faith soon finds himself\nreduced to a condition where he cannot rest till he has secured the\nremoval of the curse. This is effected by a reversal of the above\nceremonies--erasing the name, taking out the pebble, and otherwise\nappeasing the spirit of the well. It is asserted that death has in\nmany instances resulted from the curse of this wickedly malicious\nwell.[167]\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[167] 'Camb. Pop. Ant.,' 247. See also 'Arch. Camb.,' 1st Se., i. 46.\n\n\nXI.\n\nOccasionally the cursing powers of a well were synonymous with curing\npowers. Thus a well much resorted to near Penrhos, was able to curse a\ncancer, i.e., cure it. The sufferer washed in the water, uttering\ncurses upon the disease, and also dropping pins around the well. This\nwell has been drained by the unsympathizing farmer on whose land it\nwas, on account of the serious damage done to his crops by\ntrespassers.\n\n\nXII.\n\nWells from which milk has flowed have been known in several places.\nThat Winifred's well indulged in this eccentricity on one occasion has\nbeen noted. The well of St. Illtyd is celebrated for the like\nperformance. This well is in Glamorganshire, in the land called Gower,\nnear Swansea. It was about the nativity of John the Baptist, on the\nfifth day of the week, in a year not specified, but certainly very\nremote, that for three hours there flowed from this well a copious\nstream of milk instead of water. That it was really milk we are not\nleft in any possible doubt, for 'many who were present testified that\nwhile they were looking at the milky stream carefully and with\nastonishment, they also saw among the gravel curds lying about in\nevery direction, and all around the edge of the well a certain fatty\nsubstance floating about, such as is collected from milk, so that\nbutter can be made from it.'[168]\n\nThe origin of this well is a pleasing miracle, and recalls the story\nof Canute; but while Canute's effort to command the sea was a failure\nin the eleventh century, that of St. Illtyd five hundred years earlier\nwas a brilliant success. It appears that the saint was very pleasantly\nestablished on an estate consisting of a field surrounded on all sides\nby plains, with an intermediate grove, but was much afflicted by the\nfrequent overflowings of the sea upon his land. In vain he built and\nrebuilt a very large embankment of mud mixed with stones, the rushing\nwaves burst through again and again. At last the saint's patience was\nworn out, and he said, 'I will not live here any longer; I much wished\nit, but troubled with this marine molestation, it is not in my power.\nIt destroys my buildings, it flows to the oratory which we built with\ngreat labour.' However, the place was so convenient he was loth to\nleave it, and he prayed for assistance. On the night before his\nintended departure an angel came to him and bade him remain, and gave\nhim instructions for driving back the sea. Early in the morning Illtyd\nwent to the fluctuating sea and drove it back; it receded before him\n'as if it were a sensible animal,' and left the shore dry. Then Illtyd\nstruck the shore with his staff, 'and thereupon flowed a very clear\nfountain, which is also beneficial for curing diseases, and which\ncontinues to flow without a falling off; and what is more wonderful,\nalthough it is near the sea, the water emitted is pure.'[169]\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[168] 'Arch. Camb.,' 1st Se., iii., 264.\n\n[169] 'Cambro-British Saints,' 478.\n\n\nXIII.\n\nSome of the Welsh mystic wells are so situated that they are at times\noverflowed by the waters of the sea, or of a river. Taff's Well, in\nGlamorganshire, a pleasant walk from Cardiff, is situated practically\nin the bed of the river Taff. One must wade through running water to\nreach it, except in the summer season, when the water in the river is\nvery low. A rude hut of sheet iron has been built over it. This well\nis still noted for its merits in healing rheumatism and kindred\nailments. The usual stories are told of miraculous cures. A primitive\ncustom of the place is that when men are bathing at this well they\nshall hang a pair of trousers outside the hut; women, in their turn,\nmust hang out a petticoat or bonnet.\n\nAt Newton Nottage, Glamorganshire, a holy well called Sanford's is so\nsituated that the water is regulated in the well by the ocean tides.\nFrom time immemorial wondrous tales have been told of this well, how\nit ebbs and flows daily in direct contrariety to the tidal ebb and\nflow. The bottom of the well is below high-water mark on the beach,\nwhere it has an outlet into the sea. At very low tides in the summer,\nwhen the supply of water in the well is scanty, it becomes dry for an\nhour or two after low water. When the ocean tide rises, the sea-water\nbanks up and drives back the fresh water, and the well fills again and\nits water rises. The villagers are accustomed to let the well-water\nrise through what they call the 'nostrils of the well,' and become\nsettled a little before they draw it. Of course this phenomenon has\nbeen regarded as something supernatural by the ignorant for ages, and\nupon the actual visible phenomena have been built a number of magical\ndetails of a superstitious character.\n\n\nXIV.\n\nThe wide prevalence of some form of water-worship among Aryan peoples\nis a fact of great significance. Superstitions in connection with\nBritish wells are generally traceable to a Druidic origin. The worship\nof natural objects in which the British Druids indulged, particularly\nas regards rivers and fountains, probably had a connection with\ntraditions of the flood. When the early Christian preachers and\nteachers encountered such superstitions among the people, they\ncarefully avoided giving unnecessary offence by scoffing at them; on\nthe contrary they preferred to adopt them, and to hallow them by\ngiving them Christian meanings. They utilized the old Druidic circles\nas places of worship, chose young priests from among the educated\nDruids, and consecrated to their own saints the mystic wells and\nfountains. In this manner were continued practices the most ancient.\nAs time passed on, other wells were similarly sanctified, as the new\nreligion spread and parish churches were built. Disease and wickedness\nbeing intimately associated in the popular mind--epileptics and like\nsufferers being held to be possessed of devils, and even such vulgar\nills as warts and wens being considered direct results of some evil\ndeed, suffered or performed--so the waters of Christian baptism which\ncleansed from sin, cleansed also from disease. Ultimately the virtue\nof the waters came to be among the vulgar a thing apart from the rite\nof baptism; the good was looked upon as dwelling in the waters\nthemselves, and the Christian rite as not necessarily an element in\nthe work of regeneration. The reader who will recall what has been\nsaid in the chapter on changelings, in the first part of this volume,\nwill perceive a survival of the ancient creed herein, in the notion\nthat baptism is a preventive of fairy babe-thievery. Remembering that\nthe changeling notion is in reality nothing but a fanciful way of\naccounting for the emaciation, ugliness, idiocy, bad temper--in a\nword, the illness--of the child, it will be seen that the rite of\nbaptism, by curing the first manifestations of evil in the child's\nsystem, was the orthodox means of preventing the fairies from working\ntheir bad will on the poor innocent.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\n    Personal Attributes of Legendary Welsh Stones--Stone\n    Worship--Canna's Stone Chair--Miraculous Removals of\n    Stones--The Walking Stone of Eitheinn--The Thigh Stone--The\n    Talking Stone in Pembrokeshire--The Expanding Stone--Magic\n    Stones in the 'Mabinogion'--The Stone of Invisibility--The\n    Stone of Remembrance--Stone Thief-catchers--Stones of\n    Healing--Stones at Cross-roads--Memorials of King\n    Arthur--Round Tables, Carns, Pots, etc.--Arthur's\n    Quoits--The Gigantic Rock-tossers of Old--Mol Walbec and the\n    Pebble in her Shoe--The Giant of Trichrug--Giants and the\n    Mythology of the Heavens--The Legend of Rhitta Gawr.\n\n\nI.\n\nIn the traditions concerning Welsh stones, abundant personal\nattributes are accorded them, such as in nature belong only to\nanimals. They were endowed with volition and with voice; they could\ntravel from place to place without mortal aid; they would move\nuneasily when disturbed by human contact; they expanded and contracted\nat will; they clung to people who touched them with profane or guilty\npurpose; they possessed divers qualities which made them valuable to\ntheir possessors, such as the power of rendering them invisible, or of\nfilling their pockets with gold. In pursuing the various accounts of\nthese stones in Welsh folk-lore we find ourselves now in fairyland,\nnow in the domains of mother church, now listening to legends of\nenchantment, now to tales of saintly virtue, now giving ear to a\nmagician, now to a monk. Stone-worship, of which the existing\nsuperstitions are remains, was so prevalent under the Saxon monarchy,\nthat it was forbidden by law in the reign of Edgar the Peaceable,\n(ninth century,) and when Canute came, in the following century, he\nalso found it advisable to issue such a law. That this pagan worship\nwas practised from a time of which there is now no record, is not\nquestioned; and the perpetuation of certain features of this worship\nby the early Christians was in spite of the laws promulgated for its\nsuppression by a Christian king. In this manner the monks were enabled\nto draw to themselves the peasantry in whose breasts the ancient\nsuperstition was strong, and who willingly substituted the new story\nfor the old, so long as the underlying belief was not rudely uprooted.\n\n\nII.\n\nAmong the existing stones in Wales with which the ancient ideas of\noccult power are connected, one in Carmarthenshire is probably unique\nof its kind. It is called Canna's Stone, and lies in a field adjoining\nthe old church of Llangan, now remote from the population whose\nancestors worshipped in it. The church was founded by an Armorican\nlady of rank named Canna, who was sainted. The stone in question forms\na sort of chair, and was used in connection with a magic well called\nFfynon Canna, which is now, like the church, deserted and wretched.\nPatients suffering from ague, in order to profit by its healing power,\nmust sit in the chair of Canna's stone, after drinking of the water.\nIf they could manage to sleep while in the chair, the effect of the\nwater was supposed to be made sure. The process was continued for some\ndays, sometimes for two or three weeks.\n\nIn the middle of this parish there is a field called Parc y Fonwent,\nor the churchyard-field, where, according to local tradition, the\nchurch was to have been originally built; but the stones brought to\nthe spot during the day were at night removed by invisible hands to\nthe site of the present church. Watchers in the dark heard the goblins\nengaged in this work, and pronouncing in clear and correct Welsh these\nwords, 'Llangan, dyma'r fan,' which mean, 'Llangan, here is the spot.'\n\nSimilar miraculous removals of stones are reported and believed in\nother parts of Wales. Sometimes visible goblins achieve the work;\nsometimes the stones themselves possess the power of locomotion. The\nold British historian Nennius[170] speaks of a stone, one of the\nwonders of the Isle of Anglesea, which walks during the night in the\nvalley of Eitheinn. Being once thrown into the whirlpool Cerevus,\nwhich is in the middle of the sea called Menai, it was on the morrow\nfound on the side of the aforesaid valley. Also in Builth is a heap of\nstones, upon which is one stone bearing the impress of a dog's foot.\nThis was the famous dog of King Arthur, named Cabal, which left its\nfootprint on this stone when it hunted the swine Troynt. Arthur\nhimself gathered this heap of stones, with the magic stone upon it,\nand called it Carn Cabal; and people who take away this stone in their\nhands for the space of a day and a night cannot retain it, for it\nreturns itself to the heap. The Anglesea stone is also mentioned by\nGiraldus, through whom it achieved celebrity under the name of Maen\nMorddwyd, or the Thigh Stone--'a stone resembling a human thigh, which\npossesses this innate virtue, that whatever distance it may be carried\nit returns of its own accord the following night. Hugh, Earl of\nChester, in the reign of King Henry I., having by force occupied this\nisland and the adjacent country, heard of the miraculous power of this\nstone, and for the purpose of trial ordered it to be fastened with\nstrong iron chains to one of a larger size and to be thrown into the\nsea; on the following morning, however, according to custom, it was\nfound in its original position, on which account the Earl issued a\npublic edict that no one from that time should presume to move the\nstone from its place. A countryman also, to try the powers of this\nstone, fastened it to his thigh, which immediately became putrid, and\nthe stone returned to its original situation.'[171] This stone\nultimately lost its virtues, however, for it was stolen in the last\ncentury and never came back.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[170] Harleian MSS., 3859.\n\n[171] Sir R. C. Hoare's Giraldus, 'Itin. Camb.,' ii., 104.\n\n\nIII.\n\nThe Talking Stone Llechlafar, or stone of loquacity, served as a\nbridge over the river Alyn, bounding the churchyard of St. David's in\nPembrokeshire, on the northern side. It was a marble slab worn smooth\nby the tread of many feet, and was ten feet long, six feet broad, and\none foot thick. Ancient tradition relates that one day 'when a corpse\nwas being carried over it for interment the stone broke forth into\nspeech, and by the effort cracked in the middle, which fissure is\nstill visible; and on account of this barbarous and ancient\nsuperstition the corpses are no longer brought over it.'[172]\n\nIn this same parish of St. David's, there was a flight of steps\nleading down to the sea, among which were a certain few which uttered\na miraculous sound, like the ringing of a bell. The story goes that in\nancient times a band of pirates landed there and robbed the chapel.\nThe bell they took away to sea with them, but as it was heavy they\nrested it several times on their way, and ever since that day the\nstones it rested upon have uttered these mysterious sounds when\nstruck.\n\nAlso in this parish is the renowned Expanding Stone, an excavation in\nthe rock of St. Gowan's chapel, which has the magic property of\nadapting itself to the size of the person who gets into it, growing\nsmaller for a small man and larger for a large one. Among its many\nvirtues was that if a person got into it and made a wish, and did not\nchange his mind while turning about, the wish would come true. The\noriginal fable relates that this hollow stone was once solid; that a\nsaint closely pursued by Pagan persecutors sought shelter of the rock,\nwhich thereupon opened and received him, concealing him till the\ndanger was over and then obligingly letting him out.\n\nThis stone may probably be considered as the monkish parallel for the\nmagic stones which confer on their possessor invisibility, as we find\nthem in the romances of enchantment. In the 'Mabinogion' such stones\nare frequently mentioned, usually in the favourite form of a gem set\nwithin a ring. 'Take this ring,' says the damsel with yellow curling\nhair,[173] 'and put it on thy finger, with the stone inside thy hand;\nand close thy hand upon the stone. And as long as thou concealest it,\nit will conceal thee.' But when it is found, as we find in following\nthese clues further, that this Stone of Invisibility was one of the\nThirteen Rarities of Kingly Regalia of the Island of Britain; that it\nwas formerly kept at Caerleon, in Monmouthshire, the city whence St.\nDavid journeyed into Pembrokeshire; and that it is mentioned in the\nTriads thus: 'The Stone of the Ring of Luned, which liberated Owen the\nson of Urien from between the portcullis and the wall; whoever\nconcealed that stone the stone or bezel would conceal him,' the strong\nprobability appears that we are dealing with one and the same myth in\nthe tale of magic and in the monkish legend. Traced back to a period\nmore remote than that with which these Welsh stories ostensibly deal,\nwe should find their prototype in the ring of Gyges.\n\nThe Stone of Remembrance is another stone mentioned in the\n'Mabinogion,' also a jewel, endowed with valuable properties which it\nimparts not merely to its wearer, but to any one who looks upon it.\n'Rhonabwy,' says Iddawc to the enchanted dreamer on the yellow\ncalf-skin, 'dost thou see the ring with a stone set in it, that is\nupon the Emperor's hand?' 'I see it,' he answered. 'It is one of the\nproperties of that stone to enable thee to remember that thou seest\nhere to-night, and hadst thou not seen the stone, thou wouldst never\nhave been able to remember aught thereof.'[174] Still another stone of\nrare good qualities is that which Peredur gave to Etlym, in reward for\nhis attendance,[175] the stone which was on the tail of a serpent, and\nwhose virtues were such that whosoever should hold it in one hand, in\nthe other he would have as much gold as he might desire. Peredur\nhaving vanquished the serpent and possessed himself of the stone,\nimmediately gave it away, in that spirit of lavish free-handedness\nwhich so commonly characterizes the heroes of chivalric British\nromance.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[172] Ibid., ii., 8.\n\n[173] Lady Charlotte Guest's 'Mabinogion,' 13.\n\n[174] Lady Charlotte Guest's 'Mabinogion,' 303.\n\n[175] Ibid., 111.\n\n\nIV.\n\nIn the church of St. David's of Llanfaes, according to Giraldus, was\npreserved among the relics a stone which caught a thieving boy in the\nact of robbing a pigeon's nest, and held him fast for three days and\nnights. Only by assiduous and long-continued prayer were the unhappy\nboy's parents able to get him loose from the terrible stone, and the\nmarks of his five fingers remained ever after impressed upon it, so\nthat all might see them. There was a stone of similar proclivities in\nthe valley of Mowddwy, which did good service for the church. A\ncertain St. Tydecho, a relation of King Arthur, who slept on a blue\nrock in this valley, was persecuted by Maelgwn Gwynedd. One day this\nwicked knight came with a pack of white dogs to hunt in that\nneighbourhood, and sat down upon the saint's blue stone. When he\nendeavoured to get up he found himself fastened to his seat so that he\ncould not stir, in a manner absurdly suggestive of French farces; and\nhe was obliged to make up matters with the saint. He ceased to\npersecute the good man, and to make amends for the past gave him the\nprivilege of sanctuary for a hundred ages.[176]\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[176] 'Celtic Remains,' 420. (Printed for the Cambrian Arch. Soc.,\nLondon, 1878.)\n\n\nV.\n\nAs for Stones of Healing, with qualities resembling those abiding in\ncertain wells, they appear in many shapes. Now it is a maenhir,\nagainst which the afflicted peasant must rub himself; now it is a\npebble which he must carry in his pocket. The inevitable wart\nreappears in this connection; the stone which cures the wart is found\nby the roadside, wrapped in a bit of paper, and dropped on a\ncross-road; to him who picks it up the wart is transferred. Children\nin Pembrokeshire will not at the present day pick up a small parcel on\na cross-road, suspecting the presence of the wart-bearing stone. In\nCarmarthen are still to be found traces of a belief in the Alluring\nStone, whose virtue is that it will cure hydrophobia. It is\nrepresented as a soft white stone, about the size of a man's head,\noriginally found on a farm called Dysgwylfa, about twelve miles from\nCarmarthen town. Grains were scraped from the stone with a knife, and\nadministered to the person who had been bitten by a rabid dog; and a\npeculiarity of the stone was that though generation after generation\nhad scraped it, nevertheless it did not diminish in size. A woman who\nate of this miraculous stone, after having been bitten by a suspicious\ncur, testified that it caused 'a boiling in her blood.' The stone was\nsaid to have fallen from the sky in the first instance.\n\n\nVI.\n\nStones standing at cross-roads are seldom without some superstitious\nlegend. A peasant pointed out to me, on a mountain-top near Crumlyn,\nMonmouthshire, a cross-roads stone, beneath which, he asserted, a\nwitch sleeps by day, coming forth at night. 'Least they was say so,'\nhe explained, with a nervous look about him, 'but there you! _I_ was\nnever see anything, an' I was pass by there many nights--yes, indeed,\noften.' The man's eagerness to testify against the truth of the\ntradition was one of the most impressive illustrations possible of\nlingering superstitious awe in this connection.\n\nA famous Welsh witch, who used to sleep under a stone at Llanberis, in\nNorth Wales, was called Canrig Bwt, and her favourite dish at dinner\nwas children's brains. A certain criminal who had received a\ndeath-sentence was given the alternative of attacking this frightful\ncreature, his life to be spared should he succeed in destroying her.\nArming himself with a sharp sword, the doomed man got upon the stone\nand called on Canrig to come out. 'Wait till I have finished eating\nthe brains in this sweet little skull,' was her horrible answer.\nHowever, forth she came presently, when the valiant man cut off her\nhead at a blow. To this day they scare children thereabout with the\nname of Canrig Bwt.\n\n\nVII.\n\nIn every part of Wales one encounters the ancient memorials of King\nArthur--sometimes to be dimly connected with the historical character,\nbut more often with the mythical figure--each with its legend, or its\nbundle of legends, poetic, patriotic, or superstitious. Arthur's Round\nTable at Caerleon, Monmouthshire, is as well known to every boy in the\nneighbourhood as any inn or shop of the village. It is a grass-grown\nRoman amphitheatre, whence alabaster statues of Adrian's day have been\ndisinterred. There is also an Arthur's Round Table in Denbighshire, a\nflat-topped hill thus called, and in Anglesea another, near the\nvillage of Llanfihangel. Arthur's Seat, Arthur's Bed, Arthur's Castle,\nArthur's Stone, Arthur's Hill, Arthur's Quoit, Arthur's Board,\nArthur's Carn, Arthur's Pot--these are but a few of the well-known\ncromlechs, rocking-stones, or natural objects to be found in various\nneighbourhoods. They are often in duplicates, under these names, but\nthey never bear such titles by other authority than traditions\nreaching back into the dark ages. Some of the stories and\nsuperstitions which attach to them are striking, and of the most\nfascinating interest to the student of folk-lore; others are merely\ngrotesque, as in the case of Arthur's Pot. This is under a cromlech at\nDolwillim, on the banks of the Tawe, and in the stream itself when the\nwater is high; it is a circular hole of considerable depth, accurately\nbored in the stone by the action of the water. This hole is called\nArthur's Pot, and according to local belief was made by Merlin for\nthe hero king to cook his dinner in. Arthur's Quoits are found in many\nparts of the country. A large rock in the bed of the Sawdde river, on\nthe Llangadock side of Mynydd Du, (the Black Mountain,) is one of\nthese quoits. The story is that the king one day flung it from the\nsummit of Pen Arthur, a mile away. There is another large rock beside\nit, which was similarly flung down by a lady of Arthur's acquaintance,\nwhose gigantic proportions may be guessed from the fact that this\nboulder was a pebble in her shoe, which annoyed her.\n\n\nVIII.\n\nUpon this hint there opens out before the inquirer a wealth of\nincident and illustration, in connection with gigantic Britons of old\ntime who hurled huge rocks about as pebbles. There is the story of the\ngiant Idris, who dwelt upon Cader Idris, and who found no less a\nnumber than three troublesome pebbles in his shoe as he was out\nwalking one day, and who tossed them down where they lie on the road\nfrom Dolgelley to Machynlleth, three bulky crags. There are several\nlegends about Mol Walbec's pebbles in Breconshire. This lusty dame has\na full score of shadowy castles on sundry heights in that part of\nWales; and she is said to have built the castle of Hay in one night.\nIn performing this work she carried the stones in her apron; one of\nthese--a pebble about a foot thick and nine feet long--fell into her\nshoe. At first she did not notice it, but by-and-by it began to annoy\nher, and she plucked it out and threw it into Llowes churchyard, three\nmiles away, where it now lies. In many parts of Wales where lie rude\nheaps of stones, the peasantry say they were carried there by a witch\nin her apron.\n\nThe gigantic creatures whose dimensions are indicated by these stones\nreappear continually in Welsh folk-lore. Arthur is merely the greatest\namong them; all were of prodigious proportions. Hu Gadarn, Cadwaladr,\nRhitta Gawr, Brutus, Idris, are all members of the shadowy race whose\n'quoits' and 'pebbles' are scattered about Wales. The remains at\nStonehenge have been from time immemorial called by the Cymry the Cor\nGawr, Circle or Dance of Giants. How the Carmarthen enchanter, Merlin,\ntransported these stones hither from Killara mountain in Ireland by\nhis magic art, everybody knows. It is only necessary that a stone\nshould be of a size to make the idea of removing it an apparently\nhopeless one--that Merlin or some other magician brought it there by\nenchantment, or that Arthur or some other giant tossed it there with\nhis mighty arm, is a matter of course.[177] The giant of Trichrug, (a\nfairy haunt in Cardiganshire,) appears to have been the champion\npebble-tosser of Wales, if local legend may be trusted. Having invited\nthe neighbouring giants to try their strength with him in throwing\nstones, he won the victory by tossing a huge rock across the sea into\nIreland. His grave is traditionally reported to be on that mountain,\nand to possess the same properties as the Expanding Stone, for it fits\nany person who lies down in it, be he tall or short. It has the\nfurther virtue of imparting extraordinary strength to any one lying in\nit; but if he gets into it with arms upon his person they will be\ntaken from him and he will never see them more.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[177] It is noteworthy that most of the great stones of these legends\nappear to have really been transported to the place where they are now\nfound, being often of a different rock than that of the immediate\nlocality. To what extent the legends express the first vague\ninductions of early geological observers, is a question not without\ninterest.\n\n\nIX.\n\nThe gigantic stone-tossers of Wales associate themselves without\neffort with the mythology of the heavens. One of their chiefest,\nIdris, was indeed noted as an astrologer, and is celebrated as such in\nthe Triads:\n\n    Idris Gawr, or the Giant Idris;\n    Gwydion, or the Diviner by Trees;\n    Gwyn, the Son of Nudd, the Generous;\n    So great was their knowledge of the stars, that they could foretell\n            whatever might be desired to be known until the day of doom.\n\nAnd among Welsh legends none is more familiar than that of Rhitta\nGawr, wherein the stars are familiarly spoken of as cows and sheep,\nand the firmament as their pasture.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\n    Early Inscribed Stones--The Stone Pillar of Banwan Bryddin,\n    near Neath--Catastrophe accompanying its Removal--The\n    Sagranus Stone and the White Lady--The Dancing Stones of\n    Stackpool--Human Beings changed to Stones--St. Ceyna and the\n    Serpents--The Devil's Stone at Llanarth--Rocking Stones and\n    their accompanying Superstitions--The Suspended Altar of\n    Loin-Garth--Cromlechs and their Fairy Legends--The Fairies'\n    Castle at St. Nicholas, Glamorganshire--The Stone of the\n    Wolf Bitch--The Welsh Melusina--Parc-y-Bigwrn\n    Cromlech--Connection of these Stones with Ancient Druidism.\n\n\nI.\n\nPaleographic students are more or less familiar with about seventy\nearly inscribed stones in Wales. The value of these monuments, as\ncorroborative evidence of historical facts, in connection with waning\npopular traditions, is well understood. Superstitious prejudice is\nparticularly active in connection with stones of this kind. The\npeasantry view them askance, and will destroy them if not restrained,\nas they usually are, by fear of evil results to themselves.\nAntiquaries have often reason to thank superstition for the existence\nin our day of these ancient monuments. But there is a sort of\nprogressive movement towards enlightenment which carries the Welsh\nfarmer from the fearsome to the destructive stage, in this connection.\nThat dangerous thing, a little knowledge, sometimes leads its imbiber\nbeyond the reach of all fear of the guardian fairy or demon of the\nstone, yet leaves him still so superstitious regarding it that he\nbelieves its influence to be baleful, and its destruction a sort of\nduty. It was the common opinion of the peasantry of the parish in\nwhich it stood, that whoever happened to read the inscription on the\nMaen Llythyrog, an early inscribed stone on the top of a mountain near\nMargam Abbey, in Glamorganshire, would die soon after. In many\ninstances the stones are believed to be transformed human beings,\ndoomed to this guise for some sin, usually an act of sacrilege.\nBeliefs of this character would naturally be potent in influencing\npopular feeling against the stones. But on the other hand, however\ndesirable might be their extinction, there would be perils involved,\nwhich one would rather his neighbour than himself should encounter.\nVarious awful consequences, but especially the most terrific storms\nand disturbances of the earth, followed any meddling with them.\n\nAt Banwan Bryddin, a few miles from Neath, a stone pillar inscribed\n'MARCI CARITINI FILII BERICII,' long stood on a tumulus which by the\npeasants was considered a fairy ring. The late Lady Mackworth caused\nthis stone to be removed to a grotto she was constructing on her\ngrounds, and which she was ornamenting with all the curious stones she\ncould collect. An old man who was an under-gardener on her estate, and\nwho abounded with tales of goblins, declaring he had often had\nintercourse with these strange people, told the Rev. Mr. Williams of\nTir-y-Cwm, that he had always known this act of sacrilege would not go\nunpunished by the guardians of the stone. He had more than once seen\nthese sprites dancing of an evening in the rings of Banwan Bryddin,\nwhere the 'wonder stone' stood, but never since the day the stone was\nremoved had any mortal seen them. Upon the stone, he said, were\nwritten mysterious words in the fairy language, which no one had ever\nbeen able to comprehend, not even Lady Mackworth herself. When her\nladyship removed the stone to Gnoll Gardens the fairies were very\nmuch annoyed; and the grotto, which cost Lady Mackworth thousands of\npounds to build, was no sooner finished than one night, Duw'n catwo\nni! there was such thunder and lightning as never was heard or seen in\nGlamorganshire before; and next morning the grotto was gone! The hill\nhad fallen over it and hidden it for ever. 'Iss indeed,' said the old\nman, 'and woe will fall on the Cymro or the Saeson that will dare to\nclear the earth away. I myself, and others who was there, was hear the\nfairies laughing loud that night, after the storm has cleared away.'\n\n\nII.\n\nThe Sagranus Stone at St. Dogmell's, Pembrokeshire, was formerly used\nas a bridge over a brook not far from where it at present\nstands--luckily with its inscribed face downwards, so that the\nsculpture remained unharmed while generations were tramping over it.\nDuring its use as a bridge it bore the reputation of being haunted by\na white lady, who was constantly seen gliding over it at the witching\nhour of midnight. No man or woman could be induced to touch the\nstrange stone after dark, and its supernatural reputation no doubt\nhelped materially in its preservation unharmed till the present time.\nIt is considered on paleographic grounds to be of the fourth century.\n\nIn Pembrokeshire also are found the famous Dancing Stones of\nStackpool. These are three upright stones standing about a mile from\neach other, the first at Stackpool Warren, the second further to the\nwest, on a stone tumulus in a field known as Horestone Park, and the\nthird still further westward. One of many traditions concerning them\nis to the effect that on a certain day they meet and come down to\nSais's Ford to dance, and after their revel is over return home and\nresume their places.\n\n\nIII.\n\nThere is a curious legend regarding three stones which once stood on\nthe top of Moelfre Hill, in Carnarvonshire, but which were long ago\nrolled to the bottom of the hill by 'some idle-headed youths' who dug\nthem up. They were each about four feet high, standing as the corners\nof a triangle; one was red as blood, another white, and the third a\npale blue. The tradition says that three women, about the time when\nChristianity first began to be known in Britain, went up Moelfre Hill\non a Sabbath morning to winnow their corn. They had spread their\nwinnowing sheet upon the ground and begun their work, when some of\ntheir neighbours came to them and reprehended them for working on the\nLord's day. But the women, having a greater eye to their worldly\nprofit than to the observance of the fourth commandment, made light of\ntheir neighbours' words, and went on working. Thereupon they were\ninstantly transformed into three pillars of stone, each stone of the\nsame colour as the dress of the woman in whose place it stood, one\nred, one white, and the third bluish.\n\nLegends of the turning to stone of human beings occur in connection\nwith many of the meini hirion (long stones). Near Llandyfrydog,\nAnglesea, there is a maenhir of peculiar shape. From one point of view\nit looks not unlike the figure of a humpbacked man, and it is called\n'Carreg y Lleidr,' or the Robber's Stone. The tradition connected with\nit is that a man who had stolen the church Bible, and was carrying it\naway on his shoulder, was turned into this stone, and must stand here\ntill the last trump sets him free.\n\nAt Rolldritch (Rhwyldrech?) there is or was a circle of stones,\nconcerning which tradition held that they were the human victims of a\nwitch who, for some offence, transformed them to this shape. In\nconnection with this circle is preserved another form of superstitious\nbelief very often encountered, namely, that the number of stones in\nthe circle cannot be correctly counted by a mortal.[178]\n\nIt is noteworthy that the only creature which shares with man the grim\nfate of being turned to stone, in Welsh legends, is the serpent. The\nmonkish account of St. Ceyna, one of the daughters of Prince Brychan,\nof Breconshire, relates that having consecrated her virginity to the\nLord by a perpetual vow, she resolved to seek some desert place where\nshe could give herself wholly up to meditation. So she journeyed\nbeyond the river Severn, 'and there meeting a woody place, she made\nher request to the prince of that country that she might be permitted\nto serve God in that solitude. His answer was that he was very willing\nto grant her request, but that the place did so swarm with serpents\nthat neither man nor beast could inhabit it. But she replied that her\nfirm trust was in the name and assistance of Almighty God to drive all\nthat poisonous brood out of that region. Hereupon the place was\ngranted to the holy virgin, who, prostrating herself before God,\nobtained of him to change the serpents and vipers into stones. And to\nthis day the stones in that region do resemble the windings of\nserpents, through all the fields and villages, as if they had been\nframed by the hand of the sculptor.' The scene of this legend is\nmentioned by Camden as being at a place near Bristol, called Keynsham,\n'where abundance of that fossil called by the naturalists Cornu\nAmmonis is dug up.'\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[178] Roberts, 'Camb. Pop. Ant.,' 220.\n\n\nIV.\n\nOur old friend the devil is once more to the fore when we encounter\nthe inscribed stone of the twelfth century, which stands in the\nchurchyard of Llanarth, near Aberaeron, in Cardiganshire. A cross\ncovers this stone, with four circular holes at the junction of the\narms. The current tradition of the place regarding it is that one\nstormy night, there was such a tremendous noise heard in the belfry\nthat the whole village was thrown into consternation. It was finally\nconcluded that nobody but the diawl could be the cause of this, and\ntherefore the people fetched his reverence from the vicarage to go and\nrequest the intruder to depart. The vicar went up into the belfry,\nwith bell, book, and candle, along the narrow winding stone staircase,\nand, as was anticipated, there among the bells he saw the devil in\nperson. The good man began the usual 'Conjurate in nomine,' etc., when\nthe fiend sprang up and mounted upon the leads of the tower. The vicar\nwas not to be balked, however, and boldly followed up the remainder of\nthe staircase and got also out upon the leads. The devil finding\nhimself hard pressed, had nothing for it but to jump over the\nbattlements of the tower. He came down plump among the gravestones\nbelow, and falling upon one, made with his hands and knees the four\nholes now visible on the stone in question, which among the country\npeople still bears the name of the Devil's Stone.\n\n\nV.\n\nThe logan stones in various parts of Wales, which vibrate mysteriously\nunder the touch of a child's finger, and rock violently at a push from\na man's stronger hand, are also considered by the superstitious a\nfavourite resort of the fairies and the diawl. The holy aerolite to\nwhich unnumbered multitudes bow down at Mecca is indeed no stranger\nthing than the rocking-stone on Pontypridd's sky-perched common. Among\nthe marvellous stones in Nennius is one concerning a certain altar in\nLoin-Garth, in Gower, 'suspended by the power of God,' which he says a\nlegend tells us was brought thither in a ship along with the dead body\nof some holy man who desired to be buried near St. Illtyd's grave, and\nto remain unknown by name, lest he should become an object of too\nreverent regard; for Illtyd dwelt in a cave there, the mouth of which\nfaced the sea in those days; and having received this charge, he\nburied the corpse, and built a church over it, enclosing the wonderful\naltar, which testified by more than one astounding miracle the Divine\npower which sustained it. This is thought to be a myth relating to\nsome Welsh rocking-stone no longer known. The temptation to throw down\nstones of this character has often been too much for the\ndestruction-loving vulgarian, both in Wales and in other parts of the\nBritish islands; but the offenders have seldom been the local\npeasantry, who believe that the guardians of the stone--the fairies or\nthe diawl, as the case may be--will heavily avenge its overthrow on\nthe overthrowers.\n\n\nVI.\n\n  [Illustration: THE FAIRY FROLIC AT THE CROMLECH.]\n\nVenerable in their hoary antiquity stand those monuments of a\nlong-vanished humanity, the cromlechs which are so numerous in Wales,\nsharing with the logan and the inscribed stone the peasant's\nsuperstitious interest. Even more than the others, these solemn rocks\nare surrounded with legends of enchantment. They figure in many\nfairy-tales like that of the shepherd of Frennifawr, who stood\nwatching their mad revelry about the old cromlech, where they were\ndancing, making music on the harp, and chasing their companions in\nhilarious sort. That the fairies protect the cromlechs with special\ncare, as they also do the logans and others, is a belief the Welsh\npeasant shares with the superstitious in many lands. There is a\nremarkable cromlech near the hamlet of St. Nicholas, Glamorganshire,\non the estate of the family whose house has the honour of being\nhaunted by the ghost of an admiral. This cromlech is called, by\nchildren in that neighbourhood, 'Castle Correg.' A Cardiff gentleman\nwho asked some children who were playing round the cromlech, what they\ntermed it, was struck by the name, which recalled to him the Breton\nfairies thus designated.[179] The korreds and korregs of Brittany\nclosely resemble the Welsh fairies in numberless details. The korreds\nare supposed to live in the cromlechs, of which they are believed to\nhave been the builders. They dance around them at night, and woe\nbetide the unhappy peasant who joins them in their roundels.[180] Like\nbeliefs attach to cromlechs in the Haute Auvergne, and other parts of\nFrance. A cromlech at Pirols, said to have been built by a fee, is\ncomposed of seven massive stones, the largest being twelve feet long\nby eight and a half feet wide. The fee carried these stones hither\nfrom a great distance, and set them up; and the largest and heaviest\none she carried on the top of her spindle, and so little was she\nincommoded by it that she continued to spin all the way.[181]\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[179] Mr. J. W. Lukis, in an address before the Cardiff Nat. Soc. in\nJuly, 1874.\n\n[180] Keightley, 'Fairy Mythology,' 432.\n\n[181] Cambry, 'Monuments Celtiques,' 232.\n\n\nVII.\n\nAmong the Welsh peasantry the cromlechs are called by a variety of\nnames, one interesting group giving in Cardiganshire 'the Stone of the\nBitch,' in Glamorganshire 'the Stone of the Greyhound Bitch,' in\nCarmarthenshire and in Monmouthshire 'the Kennel of the Greyhound\nBitch,' and in some other parts of Wales 'the Stone of the Wolf\nBitch.' These names refer to no fact of modern experience; they are\nlegendary. The Cambrian form of the story of Melusina is before us\nhere, with differing details. The wolf-bitch of the Welsh legend was a\nprincess who for her sins was transformed to that shape, and thus long\nremained. Her name was Gast Rhymhi, and she had two cubs while a\nwolf-bitch, with which she dwelt in a cave. After long suffering in\nthis wretched guise, she and her cubs were restored to their human\nform 'for Arthur,' who sought her out. The unfortunate Melusina, it\nwill be remembered, was never entirely robbed of her human form.\n\n    'Ange par la figure, et serpent par le reste,'\n\nshe was condemned by the lovely fay Pressina to become a serpent from\nthe waist downwards, on every Saturday, till she should meet a man who\nwould marry her under certain specified conditions. The monkish touch\nis on the Welsh legend, in the medieval form in which we have it in\nthe Mabinogi of 'Kilhwch and Olwen.' The princess is transformed into\na wolf-bitch 'for her sins,' and when restored, although it is for\nArthur, 'God did change' her to a woman again.[182]\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[182] 'Mabinogion,' 259.\n\n\nVIII.\n\nIn a field called Parc-y-Bigwrn, near Llanboidy, Carmarthenshire, are\nthe remains of a cromlech destroyed many years ago, concerning which\nan old man named John Jones related a superstitious tale. It was to\nthe effect that there were ten men engaged in the work of throwing it\ndown, and that when they were touching the stone they became filled\nwith awe; and moreover, as the stone was being drawn away by six\nhorses the road was suddenly rent asunder in a supernatural manner.\nThis is a frequent phenomenon supposed by the Welsh peasantry to\naccompany the attempt to move a cromlech. Another common catastrophe\nis the breaking down of the waggon--not from the weight of the stone,\nbut through the displeasure of its goblin guardians. Sometimes this\nawful labour is accompanied by fierce storms of hail and wind, or\nviolent thunder and lightning; sometimes by mysterious noises, or\nswarms of bees which are supposed to be fairies in disguise.\n\n\nIX.\n\nA very great number of fanciful legends might be related in connection\nwith stones of striking shape, or upon which there are peculiar marks\nand figures; but enough of this store of folk-lore has been given to\nserve present ends. If more were detailed, there would in all cases be\nfound a family resemblance to the legends which have been presented,\nand which lead us now into the enchanted country where Arthur reigns,\nnow wandering among the monkish records of church and abbey, now to\nthe company of the dwarfs and giants of fairyland. That the British\nDruids regarded many of these stones with idolatrous reverence, is\nmost probable. Some of them, as the cromlechs and logans, they no\ndoubt employed in their mystic rites, as being symbols of the dimly\ndescried Power they worshipped. Of their extreme antiquity there is no\nquestion. The rocking-stones may be considered natural objects, though\nthey were perhaps assisted to their remarkable poise by human hands.\nThe cromlechs were originally sepulchral chambers, unquestionably, but\nthey are so old that neither history nor tradition gives any aid in\nassigning the date of their erection. Opinions that they were once\npulpits of sun-worship, or Druidic altars of sacrifice, are not\nunwarranted, perhaps, though necessarily conjectural. The evidence\nthat the inscribed stones are simply funeral monuments, is extensive\nand conclusive. Originally erected in honour of some great chief or\nwarrior, they were venerated by the people, and became shrines about\nwhich the latter gathered in a spirit of devotion. With the lapse of\nages, the warrior was forgotten; even the language in which he was\ncommemorated decayed, and the marks on the stones became to the\npeasantry meaningless hieroglyphics, to which was given a mysterious\nand awful significance; and so for unnumbered centuries the tombstone\nremained an object of superstitious fear and veneration.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\n    Baleful Spirits of Storm--The Shower at the Magic\n    Fountain--Obstacles in the way of Treasure-Seekers--The Red\n    Lady of Paviland--The Fall of Coychurch Tower--Thunder and\n    Lightning evoked by Digging--The Treasure-Chest under Moel\n    Arthur in the Vale of Clwyd--Modern Credulity--The Cavern of\n    the Ravens--The Eagle-guarded Coffer of Castell\n    Coch--Sleeping Warriors as Treasure-Guarders--The Dragon\n    which St. Samson drove out of Wales--Dragons in the\n    Mabinogion--Whence came the Red Dragon of Wales?--The\n    Original Dragon of Mythology--Prototypes of the Welsh\n    Caverns and Treasure-Hills--The Goblins of Electricity.\n\n\nI.\n\nIn the prominent part played by storm--torrents of rain, blinding\nlightning, deafening thunder--in legends of disturbed cromlechs, and\nother awful stones, is involved the ancient belief that these elements\nwere themselves baleful spirits, which could be evoked by certain\nacts. They were in the service of fiends and fairies, and came at\ntheir bidding to avenge the intrusion of venturesome mortals, daring\nto meddle with sacred things. This fascinating superstition is\npreserved in numberless Welsh legends relating to hidden treasures,\nburied under cromlechs or rocky mounds, or in caverns. In the\n'Mabinogion' it appears in the enchanted barrier to the Castle of the\nLady of the Fountain. Under a certain tall tree in the midst of a wide\nvalley there was a fountain, 'and by the side of the fountain a marble\nslab, and on the marble slab a silver bowl, attached by a chain of\nsilver, so that it may not be carried away. Take the bowl and throw a\nbowlful of water on the slab,' says the black giant of the wood to\nSir Kai, 'and thou wilt hear a mighty peal of thunder, so that thou\nwilt think that heaven and earth are trembling with its fury. With the\nthunder there will come a shower so severe that it will be scarce\npossible for thee to endure it and live. And the shower will be of\nhailstones; and after the shower the weather will become fair, but\nevery leaf that was upon the tree will have been carried away by the\nshower.'[183] Of course the knight dares this awful obstacle, throws\nthe bowlful of water upon the slab, receives the terrible storm upon\nhis shield, and fights the knight who owned the fountain, on his\ncoming forth. Sir Kai is worsted, and returns home to Arthur's court;\nwhereupon Sir Owain takes up the contest. He sallies forth, evokes the\nstorm, encounters the black knight, slays him, and becomes master of\nall that was his--his castle, his lands, his wife, and all his\ntreasures.\n\nThe peasant of to-day who sets out in quest of hidden treasures evokes\nthe avenging storm in like manner. Sometimes the treasure is in the\nground, under a cromlech or a carn; he digs, and the thunder shakes\nthe air, the lightnings flash, torrents descend, and he is frustrated\nin his search. Again, the treasure is in a cavern, guarded by a\ndragon, which belches forth fire upon him and scorches his eyeballs.\nWelsh folk-lore is full of legends of this character; and the curious\nway in which science and religion sometimes get mixed up with these\nsuperstitions is most suggestive--as in the cases of the falling of\nCoychurch tower, and the Red Lady of Paviland. The latter is the name\ngiven a skeleton found by Dr. Buckland in his exploration of the\nPaviland caves, the bones of which were stained by red oxide of iron.\nThe vulgar belief is that the Red Lady was entombed in the cave by a\nstorm while seeking treasure there--a legend the truth of which no one\ncan dispute with authority, since the bones are certainly of a period\ncontemporary with the Roman rule in this island. Coins of Constantine\nwere found in the same earth, cemented with fragments of charcoal and\nbone ornaments. In the case of Coychurch tower, it undoubtedly fell\nbecause it was undermined by a contractor who had the job of removing\ncertain defunct forefathers from their graves near its base. Some\neighteen hundred skulls were taken from the ground and carted off to a\nhole on the east side of the church. But the country folk pooh-pooh\nthe idea that the tower fell for any reason other than sheer\nindignation and horror at the disturbance of this hallowed ground by\nutilitarian pickaxe and spade. They call your attention to the fact\nthat not only did the venerable tower come crashing down, after having\nstood for centuries erect, but that in falling it struck to the earth\nSt. Crallo's cross--an upright stone in the churchyard as venerable as\nitself--breaking it all to pieces.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[183] 'Mabinogion,' 8.\n\n\nII.\n\nA hollow in the road near Caerau, in Cardiganshire, 'rings when any\nwheeled vehicle goes over it.' Early in this century, two men having\nbeen led to believe that there were treasures hidden there (for a\nfairy in the semblance of a gipsy had appeared and thrown out hints on\nthe fascinating subject from time to time), made up their minds to dig\nfor it. They dug accordingly until they came, by their solemn\nstatement, to the oaken frame of a subterranean doorway; and feeling\nsure now, that they had serious work before them, prepared for the\nsame by going to dinner. They had no sooner gone than a terrible storm\narose; the rain fell in torrents, the thunder pealed and the lightning\nflashed. When they went back to their work, the hole they had digged\nwas closed up; and nothing would convince them that this was done by\nany other than a supernatural agency. Moreover, but a little above the\nplace where they were, there had been no rain at all.[184]\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[184] 'Arch. Camb.' 3rd Se., ix., 306.\n\n\nIII.\n\nThere is a current belief among the peasants about Moel Arthur--a\nmountain overlooking the Vale of Clwyd--that treasure, concealed in an\niron chest with a ring-handle to it, lies buried there. The place of\nconcealment is often illuminated at night by a supernatural light.\nSeveral people thereabouts are known to have seen the light, and there\nare even men who will tell you that bold adventurers have so far\nsucceeded as to grasp the handle of the iron chest, when an outburst\nof wild tempest wrested it from their hold and struck them senseless.\nLocal tradition points out the place as the residence of an ancient\nprince, and as a spot charmed against the spade of the antiquary.\n'Whoever digs there,' said an old woman in Welsh to some men going\nhome from their work on this spot, after a drenching wet day, 'is\nalways driven away by thunder and lightning and storm; you have been\nserved like everybody else who has made the attempt.'\n\n\nIV.\n\nSo prevalent are superstitions of this class even in the present day\nthat cases get into the newspapers now and then. The 'Herald Cymraeg'\nof September 25, 1874, gave an account of some excavations made at\nPant-y-Saer cromlech, Anglesea, by the instigation of John Jones of\nLlandudno, 'a brother of Isaac Jones, the present tenant of\nPant-y-Saer,' at the time on a visit to the latter. The immediately\nexciting cause of the digging was a dream in which the dreamer was\ntold that there was a pot of treasure buried within the cromlech's\nprecincts. The result was the revelation of a large number of human\nbones, among them five lower jaws with the teeth sound; but no crochan\naur (pitcher of gold) turned up, and the digging was abandoned in\ndisgust. Is it credible that between this account and the following\nyawns the gulf of seven hundred years? Thus Giraldus: In the province\nof Kemeys, one of the seven cantrefs of Pembrokeshire, 'during the\nreign of King Henry I., a rich man who had a residence on the northern\nside of the Preseleu mountains was warned for three successive nights\nby dreams that if he put his hand under a stone which hung over the\nspring of a neighbouring well called the Fountain of St. Bernacus, he\nshould find there a golden chain; obeying the admonition, on the third\nday he received from a viper a deadly wound in his finger; but as it\nappears that many treasures have been discovered through dreams, it\nseems to me probable that some ought and some ought not to be\nbelieved.'[185]\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[185] Sir R. C. Hoare's Giraldus, 'Itin. Camb.' ii., 37.\n\n\nV.\n\nIn a certain cavern in Glamorganshire, called the Ogof Cigfrain, or\nCavern of the Ravens, is said to be a chest of gold, watched over by\ntwo birds of gloomy plumage, in a darkness so profound that nothing\ncan be seen but the fire of their sleepless eyes. To go there with\nthe purpose of disturbing them is to bring on a heaving and rolling of\nthe ground, accompanied by thunder and lightning. A swaggering drover\nfrom Brecknockshire, though warned by a 'dark woman' that he had\nbetter not try it, sneered that 'a couple of ravens were a fine matter\nto be afraid of indeed!' and ventured into the cavern, with a long\nrope about his waist, and a lantern in his hand. Some men who\naccompanied him (seeing that he was bent on this rash and dangerous\nemprise,) held the coil of rope, and paid it out as he went further\nand further in. The result was prompt and simple: the sky cracked with\nloud bursts of thunder and flashes of lightning, and the drover roared\nwith affright and rushed out of the dark cavern with his hair on end.\nNo coaxing ever prevailed on him to reveal the terrible sights he had\nseen; when questioned he would only repeat in Welsh the advice of\n'Punch' to those about to marry, viz., 'Peidiwch!'\n\n\nVI.\n\nIn the legend of Castell Coch, instead of a raven it is a pair of huge\neagles which watch the treasure. Castell Coch is an easy and pleasant\ntwo hours' walk from Cardiff Castle, with which it is vulgarly\nbelieved to be connected by a subterranean passage. A short time\nago--well, to be precise, a hundred years ago, but that is no time at\nall in the history of Castell Coch, which was a crumbling ruin then as\nit is now[186]--in or about the year 1780, a reduced lady was allowed\nto fit up three or four rooms in the ruin as a residence, and to live\nthere with two old servants of her house. One night this lady was\nawakened from her sleep to receive the visit of a venerable ghost in\na full dress-suit of an earlier century, who distressed her by his\ntroubled countenance and vexed her by his eccentric behaviour, for\nwhen she spoke to him from the depths of her nightcap he at once got\nthrough the wall. He came on subsequent nights so often, and\nfrightened the servants so much by the noise he made--in getting\nthrough the wall, of course--that the lady gave up her strange abode,\nand was glad to pay house rent ever after in other parts. This old\nghost was in the flesh proprietor of the castle, it appears, and\nduring the civil wars buried an iron chest full of gold in the\nsubterranean passage--which is still there, guarded by two large\neagles. A party of gentlemen who somewhere about 1800 attempted to\nexplore the passage saw the eagles, and were attacked by the birds of\nfreedom so fiercely that they retreated in disorder. Subsequently they\nreturned with pistols and shot the eagles, which resented this\ntrifling impertinence by tearing the treasure-seekers in a shocking\nmanner. After having recovered from their wounds, the determined\nWelshmen renewed the attack--this time with silver bullets, which they\nhad got blessed by a good-natured priest. The bullets rattled\nharmlessly on the feathers of the terrible birds; the ground shook\nunder foot; rain descended in torrents; with their great wings the\neagles beat out the gold-hunters' torches, and they barely escaped\nwith their lives.\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[186] It is at present being entirely restored and made habitable by\nits owner, Lord Bute.\n\n\nVII.\n\nThe shadowy Horror which keeps vigil over these hidden treasures is\nnow a dragon, again a raven or an eagle, again a worm. In the account\nof the treasure-seeker of Nantyglyn, it is a winged creature of\nunknown nature, a 'mysterious incubus,' which broods over the chest\nin the cave. The terrible Crocodile of the Lake, which was drawn from\nits watery hiding-place by the Ychain Banog, or Prominent Oxen of Hu\nGadarn, is also sometimes called a dragon (draig) in those local\naccounts which survive in the folk-lore of several different\ndistricts. It infested the region round about the lake where it lay\nconcealed, and the mighty oxen so strained themselves in the labour of\ndrawing it forth that one of them died and the other rent the mountain\nin twain with his bellowing. Various legends of Sleeping Warriors\nappear in Welsh folk-lore, in which the dragon is displaced by a\nshadowy army of slumbering heroes, lying about in a circle, with their\nswords and shields by their sides, guarding great heaps of gold and\nsilver. Now they are Owen Lawgoch and his men, who lie in their\nenchanted sleep in a cavern on the northern side of Mynydd Mawr, in\nCarmarthenshire; again they are Arthur and his warriors, asleep in a\nsecret ogof under Craig-y-Ddinas, waiting for a day when the Briton\nand the Saxon shall go to war, when the noise of the struggle will\nawaken them, and they will reconquer the island, reduce London to\ndust, and re-establish their king at Caerleon, in Monmouthshire.\n\nDragon or demon, raven or serpent, eagle or sleeping warriors, the\nguardian of the underground vaults in Wales where treasures lie is a\npersonification of the baleful influences which reside in caverns,\ngraves, and subterraneous regions generally. It is something more than\nthis, when traced back to its source in the primeval mythology; the\ndragon which watched the golden apples of Hesperides, and the\nPayshtha-more, or great worm, which in Ireland guards the riches of\nO'Rourke, is the same malarious creature which St. Samson drove out\nof Wales. According to the monkish legend, this pestiferous beast was\nof vast size, and by its deadly breath had destroyed two districts. It\nlay hid in a cave, near the river. Thither went St. Samson,\naccompanied only by a boy, and tied a linen girdle about the\ncreature's neck, and drew it out and threw it headlong from a certain\nhigh eminence into the sea.[187] This dreadful dragon became mild and\ngentle when addressed by the saint; did not lift up its terrible\nwings, nor gnash its teeth, nor put out its tongue to emit its fiery\nbreath, but suffered itself to be led to the sea and hurled\ntherein.[188] In the 'Mabinogion,' the dragon which fights in Lludd's\ndominion is mentioned as a plague, whose shriek sounded on every May\neve over every hearth in Britain; and it 'went through people's\nhearts, and so scared them, that the men lost their hue and their\nstrength, and the women their children, and the young men and maidens\nlost their senses.'[189] 'Whence came the _red_ dragon of Cadwaladr?'\nasks the learned Thomas Stephens.[190] 'Why was the Welsh dragon in\nthe fables of Merddin, Nennius, and Geoffrey, described as _red_,\nwhile the Saxon dragon was _white_?' The question may remain long\nunanswered, for the reason that there is no answer outside the domain\nof fancy, and therefore no reason which could in our day be accepted\nas reasonable.[191] The Welsh word 'dragon' means equally a dragon and\na leader in war. Red was the most honourable colour of military\ngarments among the British in Arthur's day; and Arthur wore a dragon\non his helmet, according to tradition.\n\n    His haughty helmet, horrid all with gold,\n      Both glorious brightness and great terror bred,\n    For all the crest a dragon did enfold\n      With greedy paws.[192]\n\nBut the original dragon was an embodiment of mythological ideas as old\nas mankind, and older than any written record. The mysterious beast of\nthe boy Taliesin's song, in the marvellous legend of Gwion Bach, is a\ndragon worthy to be classed with the gigantic conceptions of the\nprimeval imagination, which sought by these prodigious figures to\nexplain all the phenomena of nature. 'A noxious creature from the\nrampart of Satanas,' sings Taliesin; with jaws as wide as mountains;\nin the hair of its two paws there is the load of nine hundred waggons,\nand in the nape of its neck three springs arise, through which\nsea-roughs swim.[193]\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[187] 'Liber Landavensis,' 301.\n\n[188] Ibid., 347.\n\n[189] 'Mabinogion,' 461.\n\n[190] 'Literature of the Kymry,' 25.\n\n[191] Mr. Conway, in his erudite chapter on the Basilisk, appears to\nthink that the red colour of the Welsh dragon, in the legend of Merlin\nand Vortigern, determines its moral character; that it illustrates the\nevil principle in the struggle between right and wrong, or light and\ndarkness, as black does in the Persian legends of fighting\nserpents.--'Demonology and Devil-Lore,' p. 369. (London, Chatto and\nWindus, 1879.)\n\n[192] Spenser, 'Faerie Queene.'\n\n[193] 'Mabinogion,' 484.\n\n\nVIII.\n\nFor the prototype of the dragon-haunted caves and treasure-hills of\nWales, we must look to the lightning caverns of old Aryan fable, into\nwhich no man might gaze and live, and which were in fact the attempted\nexplanation of thunderstorms, when the clouds appeared torn asunder by\nthe lightning.\n\nScholars have noted the impressive fact that the ancient Aryan people\nhad the same name for cloud and mountain; in the Old Norse, 'klakkr'\nmeans both cloud and rock, and indeed the English word cloud has been\nidentified with the Anglo-Saxon 'clud,' rock.[194] Equally significant\nhere is the fact that in the Welsh language 'draig' means both\nlightning and dragon.\n\nPrimeval man, ignorant that the cloud was in any way different in\nstructure from the solid mountains whose peaks it emulated in\nappearance, started back aghast and trembling when with crashing\nthunders the celestial rocks opened, displaying for an instant the\nglowing cavern whose splendour haunted his dreams. From this\nphenomenon, whose goblins modern science has tamed and taught to run\nerrands along a wire, came a host of glittering legends, the shining\nhammer of Thor, the lightning spear of Odin, the enchanted arrow of\nPrince Ahmed, and the forked trident of Poseidon, as well as the\nfire-darting dragons of our modern folk-lore.\n\n  [Illustration: {THISTLE DECORATION.}]\n\nFOOTNOTE:\n\n[194] Max Mueller, 'Rig-Veda,' i. 44. And see Mr. Baring-Gould's\n'Curious Myths of the Middle Ages,' etc.\n\n\n\n\nINDEX\n\n\n    A.\n\n    Aberdovey, the Bells of, 339, 344\n\n    Aderyn y Corph, the, 212\n\n    All Fools' Day, 274\n\n    All Hallows, 280\n\n    Alluring Stone, the, 367\n\n    American Ghost Stories, 139, 185\n\n    Angels, Apparitions of, 208\n\n    Animals' Terrors at Goblins, 171\n\n    Annwn, the World of Shadows, 7, 34\n\n    Antic Spirits, 180\n\n    Aphrodite, the Welsh, 350\n\n    Apple Gift, the, 253\n\n    Arian y Rhaw, 333\n\n    Arthur, the Mythic and the Historic, vii.\n\n    Arthur's Dog, 363\n       \"     Pot, 369\n       \"     Quoits, 370\n       \"     Round Table, 369\n       \"     Seat, Bed, Castle, Stone, etc., 369\n\n    Ascension Day, Curious Superstition concerning, 25\n\n    Aura, the Human, its Perception by Dogs, 172\n\n    Avagddu, 219\n\n    Avalon, 8\n\n\n    B.\n\n    Ball-playing in Churchyards, 272\n\n    Bangu, the, 340\n\n    Banshee, the, 212\n       \"      \"   in America, 247\n\n    Banwan Bryddin, the Stone of, 374\n\n    Barnwell, Rev. E. L., cited, 324\n\n    Baron's Gate, Legend of the, 127\n\n    Barry Island, Mysterious Noises on, 353\n\n    Basilisks in Mines, 27\n\n    Beer-drinking at Funerals, 322\n\n    Bells, Superstitions concerning, 339\n      \"    of Aberdovey, 339, 344\n      \"    \"  St. Cadoc, 339\n      \"    \"  Rhayader, Legend of the, 341\n      \"    \"  St. Illtyd, 342\n      \"    \"  St. Oudoceus, 343\n\n    Beltane Fires, 278\n\n    Bendith y Mamau, 12\n\n    Betty Griffith and the Fairies, 115\n\n    Birds of Rhiannon, the, 91\n\n    Blabbing, Penalty of, 119\n\n    Black Book of Carmarthen, the, 350\n      \"   Maiden of Caerleon, the, 219\n      \"   Man of Ffynon yr Yspryd, 178\n      \"   Men in the Mabinogion, 178\n\n    Blue Petticoat, Old Elves of the, 132\n\n    Bogie, the, 32\n\n    Boxing-day, 295\n\n    Branwen, Daughter of Llyr, 91\n\n    Bread and Cheese in Fairy Mythology, 44\n\n    Brownie, the, 186\n\n    Bundling, or Courting Abed, 300\n\n    Buns, 267\n\n    Burial Customs, 321\n\n    Bush of Heaven, Legend of the, 73\n\n    Bute, the Marquis of, cited, 136\n\n    Bwbach, the, 30\n       \"    and the Preacher, the, 30\n\n\n    C.\n\n    Cadogan's Ghost, 149\n\n    Cadwaladr's Goat, the Legend of, 54\n\n    Cae Caled, the Dwarfs of, 28\n\n    Cae Mawr, the Mowing of, 61\n\n    Caerau, the Woman of, 239\n\n    Caerphilly, the Green Lady of, 132\n\n    Calan Ebrill, 274\n\n    Can y Tylwyth Teg, the, 99\n\n    Canna's Stone, 362\n\n    Canrig Bwt, the Legend of, 368\n\n    Canwyll Corph, the, 238\n\n    Caradoc the Bloody, 348\n\n    Caridwen's Caldron, 88\n\n    Carols, 288\n\n    Carrying the Kings, 276\n       \"     Cynog, 279\n       \"     Mortals through the Air, 157, 163\n\n    Castell Coch, the Eagles of, 390\n       \"    Correg, 380\n\n    Catrin Gwyn, the Legend of, 144\n\n    Catti Shon, the Witch of Pencader, 77\n\n    Cavern of Ravens, the, 389\n\n    Ceffyl Pren, the, 319\n\n    Chained Spirit, the, 168\n\n    Chaining at Weddings, 313\n\n    Changelings, 56\n\n    Cheese in Welsh Fairy Tales, 44\n\n    Christmas Observances, 286\n\n    Classification of Fairies, 11\n          \"        \"  Ghosts, 141\n          \"        \"  Customs, 252\n\n    Coblynau, 24\n\n    Cock-crow, Fairy Dislike of, 112\n        \"      a Death Omen when Untimely, 213\n\n    Colliers' Star, the, 294\n\n    Colour in Fairy Costume, 131\n\n    Compacts with the Diawl, 202\n\n    Conway, Mr., cited, 393\n\n    Coolstrin, the, 317\n\n    Corpse, an Insulted, 146\n      \"     Bird, the, 212\n      \"     Candle, the, 238\n\n    Courting Abed, 300\n\n    Courtship and Marriage, 298\n\n    Craig y Ddinas, a Fairy Haunt, 6\n\n    Criminals' Graves, Superstitions concerning, 331\n\n    Crocodile of the Lake, the, 392\n\n    Cromlechs, Superstitions concerning, 379\n        \"      Legendary Names of, 381\n\n    Cross-roads, Stones at, 368\n\n    Crown of Porcelain, the, 269\n\n    Crumlyn Lake, Legend of, 35\n\n    Curiosity Tales, 86\n\n    Cursing Wells, 355\n\n    Customs, Superstitious and Traditional, 250\n\n    Cutty Wren, the, 257\n\n    Cwm Llan, the Shepherds of, 121\n\n    Cwm Pwca, Breconshire, 20\n\n    Cwn Annwn, 233\n\n    Cwn y Wybr, 233\n\n    Cyhyraeth, the, 219\n        \"      of St. Mellons, the, 221\n        \"      \"  the Sea-coast, the, 221\n\n\n    D.\n\n    Dancing Stones of Stackpool, the, 375\n\n    Dancing in Churchyards, 273\n       \"    with Fairies, 70\n\n    Death Portents, 212\n\n    Devil, when Invented, 210\n      \"    as a Familiar Spirit, 197\n      \"    exorcising the, 199\n      \"    in his Customary Form, 202\n      \"    measured for a Suit of Clothes, 202\n      \"    his Stupidity, 202\n      \"    as a Bridge-builder, 206\n      \"    at Tintern Abbey, 207\n      \"    and the Foul Pipe, a Legend, 204\n\n    Devil's Bridge, Legends of the, 205\n       \"    Nags, the, 170\n       \"    Pulpit, the, 207\n       \"    Stone at Llanarth, the, 378\n\n    Dewi Dal and the Fairies, 61\n\n    Didactic Purpose in Welsh Fairy Tales, 44\n      \"         \"    \"  Spirits, 145\n\n    Dissenters, Fairy Antipathy to, 6\n\n    Divination, 302\n\n    Dog of Darkness, the, 168\n\n    Dogs of the Fairies, 234\n      \"  \"  Hell, 233\n      \"  \"  the Sky, 233\n      \"     Fetichistic Notions of, 172\n      \"     Ghosts of, 167\n\n    Dracae, 47\n\n    Dragons, 391\n\n    Dreams of Flying, 164\n\n    Druidic Fires, 278\n\n    Druids, Fairies Hiding, 129\n\n    Duffryn House, the Ghost of, 143\n\n    Duty-compelled Ghosts, 146\n\n    Dwarfs, 27\n\n    Dwynwen, the Welsh Venus, 299, 350\n\n    Dyfed, the Ancient, 5\n\n\n    E.\n\n    Early Inscribed Stones, Superstitions concerning, 373\n\n    Easter Customs, 269\n\n    Egg-shell Pottage, Story of the, 60\n\n    Eisteddfodau, 293\n\n    Eithin Hedges, a Protection against Fairies, 115\n\n    Elf Queen, the, 14\n\n    Elfin Dames, 34\n      \"   Cow, the, 36\n\n    Elidurus, the Tale of, 65\n\n    Ellylldan, the, 18\n\n    Ellyllon, 12\n\n    Elves, 13\n\n    Enchanted Harp, the, 94\n\n    Epimenides, 89\n\n    Equestrian Fairies, 107\n        \"      Ghosts, 174\n\n    Eumenides, 12\n\n    Euphemisms, 12, 114, 209\n\n    Excalibur, 53\n\n    Exorcism of Changelings, 57\n       \"     \"  Devils, 199\n       \"     \"  Fairies, 112, 116\n       \"     \"  Ghosts, 165\n       \"     \"  Child-stealing Elves, 62\n\n    Expanding Stone, the, 365\n\n\n    F.\n\n    Fair Folk, 12\n\n    Fairies, existing belief in, 2\n       \"     King of the, 6\n       \"     Welsh names of, 12\n       \"     at Market, 9\n       \"     of the Mines, 24\n       \"     of the Lakes, 34\n       \"     of the Mountains, 49\n       \"     Dancing with, 70\n       \"     of Frennifawr, Legend of the, 82\n       \"     on Horseback, 107\n       \"     the Red, 127\n       \"     hiding Druids, 129\n       \"     why in Wales, 132\n       \"     their Origin, 127\n       \"     Bad Spirits, 134\n       \"     on familiar terms with Ghosts, 157\n       \"     of the Cromlechs, 380\n\n    Fairy Land, 5\n      \"   Queen, 14\n      \"   Islands, 8, 45\n      \"   Food, 13\n      \"   Gloves, 13\n      \"   Coal-mining, 27\n      \"   Father, the, 45\n      \"   a, captured by a Welshwoman, 78\n      \"   Song, 99\n      \"   Rings, 103\n      \"   Conversations, 106\n      \"   Battle, a, 107\n      \"   Animals, 108\n      \"   Sheepfold, the, 109\n      \"   Gifts, 119\n      \"   Tales, debris of Ancient Mythology, 135\n\n    Falling of Coychurch Tower, 386\n\n    Familiar Spirits, 187\n       \"        \"     in Female Form, 191\n\n    Family Ghosts, 142\n\n    Fatal Draught, the, 83\n\n    Fetches, 215\n\n    Fetichism, 338\n\n    Fetichistic Notions of Lower Animals, 171\n\n    Ffarwel Ned Pugh, 99\n\n    Ffynon yr Yspryd, 178\n\n    Ffynon Canna, 362\n\n    Fiend Master, Legend of the, 86\n\n    Fire-damp Goblins, 27\n\n    Fires, Mysterious, 213\n\n    First Foot on New Year's Day, 254\n\n    First Night of Winter, 280\n\n    Flowering Sunday, 266\n\n    Food at Funerals, 322\n\n    Forest of the Yew, Legend of the, 73\n\n    Foul Pipe, Story of the, 204\n\n    Fountain of Venus, the, 350\n\n    Fountains Flowing with Milk, 356\n\n    Fourth of July, 278\n\n    Frennifawr, the Fairies of, 82\n\n    Friday, its Bad Reputation, 268\n\n    Frugal Meal, Legend of the, 58\n\n    Funeral Customs, 321\n       \"    the Goblin, 231\n\n    Future Life, the Question of a, 247\n\n    Fuwch Gyfeiliorn, the, 36\n\n\n    G.\n\n    Gallery under the Sea, 10\n\n    Gast Rhymhi, the Legend of, 381\n\n    Ghosts, Existing Belief in, 137\n       \"    in America, 139\n       \"    Classification of, 141\n       \"    with a Duty to Perform, 146\n       \"    of Ebbw Vale, 142\n       \"    on Horseback, 154, 174\n       \"    Exorcising, 165\n       \"    of Animals, 167\n       \"    Grotesque, 174\n       \"    Gigantic, 176\n       \"    their Origin, 247\n       \"    of Bells, 339\n       \"    Stories of--\n              The Weaver's Ghost, 147\n              Cadogan's Ghost, 149\n              The Ghost of Ystradgynlais, 157\n              The Admiral's Ghost, 143\n              The Miser's Ghost, 152\n              The Ghost of St. Donat's, 143\n              The Pont Cwnca Bach Ghost, 144\n              The Ghost of Noe, 147\n              Anne Dewy's Ghost, 153\n              The Clifford Castle Ghost, 155\n              The Ghost of Ty'n-y-Twr, 155\n              The Ghost of the Silver Spurs, 156\n              The Tridoll Valley Sprite, 181\n              The Mynyddyslwyn Sprite, 187\n\n    Giants, 370\n\n    Giants' Dance, the, 371\n\n    Gigantic Ghosts, 176\n\n    Giraldus Cambrensis, 65\n\n    Gitto Bach, the Legend of, 119\n\n    Gnomes, 24\n\n    Goats, Strange Beliefs concerning, 53\n\n    Gobelin, the French, 32\n\n    Goblin Animals, 167\n      \"    Funerals, 231\n\n    God's Name as an Exorcism, 112\n      \"    \"   in the Bardic Traditions, 209\n\n    Good Friday Customs, 266\n\n    Good Old Times, the, 252\n\n    Grassless Grave, Legend of the, 331\n\n    Green Lady of Caerphilly, the, 132\n      \"   Meadows of the Sea, 8\n\n    Groaning Spirits, 222\n\n    Grotesque Ghosts, 174\n\n    Guest, Lady Charlotte, 5\n\n    Guy Fawkes Day Customs, 284\n\n    Gwahoddwr, the, 307\n\n    Gwenfrewi, Legend of, 347\n\n    Gwerddonau Llion, 8\n\n    Gwion Bach (Taliesin), 88, 394\n\n    Gwrach y Rhibyn, the, 216\n\n    Gwragedd Annwn, the, 34\n\n    Gwraig of the Golden Boat, the, 41\n\n    Gwydion, the Wizard Monarch, 5\n\n    Gwyllgi, the, 168\n\n    Gwyllion, 49\n\n    Gwyn ap Nudd, 6, 372\n\n\n    H.\n\n    Hafod Lwyddog, Legend of, 124\n\n    Hallow E'en Customs, 280\n\n    Hares, Mythological Details, 162\n\n    Harp Music among Welsh Fairies, 94\n\n    Haunted Bridge, the, 144\n       \"    Castles and Houses, 143\n       \"    Margaret, 165\n\n    Headless Horse, the, 216\n\n    Hecate, 49\n\n    Hermes, 236\n\n    Hidden Treasures and Perturbed Ghosts, 151\n       \"       \"     Dragon-Guarded, 386\n\n    Hobgoblin, 32\n\n    Holy Thursday, Superstition concerning, 25, 268\n\n    Horse-Weddings, 310\n\n    Hot-cross Buns, 267\n\n    Household Fairy, the, 31\n\n    Howell Dda, 298\n\n\n    I.\n\n    Iago ap Dewi's Seven Years' Absence, 88\n\n    Ianto Llewellyn and the Fairies, 123\n\n    Idris the Giant, 370\n\n    Incubus, 193\n\n    Inscribed Stones, Superstitious Dread of, 373\n\n    Iolo ap Hugh, the Legend of, 99\n\n    Islands, the Enchanted, 8\n\n\n    J.\n\n    Jack-muh-Lantern, 18\n\n    Jennet Francis and the Fairy Child-Stealers, 62\n\n    John the Red Nose, 258\n\n    Jones, the Prophet, 104\n\n    Juan White, the Spirit of, 50\n\n\n    K.\n\n    Knife, Exorcism by the, 52\n\n    Knockers in Mines, 24\n\n    Kobolds, 29\n\n\n    L.\n\n    Lady of the Fountain, 178, 385\n      \"    \"    Wood, Legend of the, 193\n\n    Lake Fairies, 34\n\n    Lang, A., cited, 197\n\n    Language of the Fairies, 106\n\n    Lapse of Time under Enchantment, 89\n\n    Laws of the Welsh Spirit-World, 148\n\n    Leek, Wearing of the, 260\n\n    Lenten Customs, 266\n\n    Levitation of Mortals, 157, 163\n\n    Levy Dew, 255\n\n    Lies, the Tump of, 273\n\n    Lifting at Easter, 269\n\n    Lightning Caverns, 394\n\n    Linen, its Ancient Value, 133\n\n    Listening at the Church Door, 214\n\n    Lisworney-Crossways, the Legend of, 169\n\n    Living with Fairies, 65\n\n    Llandaff Gwrach y Rhibyn, the, 217\n\n    Llechlafar Stone, 364\n\n    Lledrith, the, 215\n\n    Llwyd the Magician, 159, 190\n\n    Llwyn y Nef, the Bush of Heaven, 72\n\n    Llyn Barfog, the Fairy Maiden of, 36\n      \"  y Dywarchen, the Lady of, 44\n      \"  y Fan Fach, the Sirens of, 38\n      \"  Glas, the Shepherd of, 124\n      \"  y Morwynion, the Maidens' Lake, 47\n\n    Logan Stones, Superstitions concerning, 378\n\n    Lord and Beggar, Legend of the, 230\n\n    Love Charms, 302\n\n    Lucky Days, 268\n\n    Lukis, J. W., cited, 3, 380\n\n    Luther and the Changeling, 57\n\n\n    M.\n\n    Mab, 14\n\n    Mabinogion, the, 5, 14, 91\n\n    Magic Carpet, 164\n      \"   Harp, 95\n\n    Maidens' Lake, the, 47\n\n    Maid's Trick, the, 302\n\n    Making Christ's Bed, 267\n\n    Mallt y Nos, the, 215\n\n    Marget yr Yspryd, 165\n\n    Mari Lwyd, the, 256\n\n    Marketing on Tombstones, 280\n\n    Marriage Customs, 306\n\n    May-day Customs, 274\n\n    Meddygon Myddfai, Legend of the, 38\n\n    Melerius, the Legend of, 192\n\n    Melusina, the Welsh, 381\n\n    Memorials of Arthur, 369\n\n    Men of Ardudwy, the Legend of the, 47\n\n    Merlin the Enchanter, as a Stone Remover, 371\n      \"     \"      \"      and the Red Dragon, 393\n      \"    an Early Myth, viii.\n\n    Mermaids, 35, 47\n\n    Merthyr, the Rector of, cited, 3\n\n    Methodists, Banishers of Fairies, 6\n\n    Mid-Lent Sunday, 266\n\n    Midsummer Eve, 277\n\n    Milford Haven, the Fairies at, 9\n\n    Milk from Fountains, 356\n\n    Milk-white Milch Cow, Legend of the, 37\n\n    Mine Goblins, 24\n\n    Miner's Wraith, the, 215\n\n    Mirage, 173\n\n    Moel Arthur, the Treasure-Chest of, 388\n\n    Moelfre Hill, the Women of, 376\n\n    Mol Walbec the Giantess, 370\n\n    Monacella's Lambs, 162\n\n    Money thrown in Wells, 354\n\n    Morgan, Born of the Sea, 47\n\n    Morgana, 7\n\n    Mothering Sunday, 266\n\n    Mountain Ash, the Three Rods of, 210\n       \"     the Old Woman of the, 49\n\n    Mourning in Lent, 266\n\n    Music in Welsh Fairy Tales, 91, 98\n\n    Myfyr Morganwg, 277\n\n    Mystic Wells, 345\n\n\n    N.\n\n    Nadolig, 286\n\n    Names of Welsh Fairies, 12\n\n    Nant yr Ellyllon, 79\n\n    Narberth in Mythic Story, 198, 234\n\n    New Year's Day Customs, 252\n\n    Night Fiend, the, 215\n\n    Nights for Spirits, the Three, 280\n\n    Nis, the, 186\n\n    Noises, Mysterious, on Barry Island, 353\n\n    North Wales, Fairyland in, 5\n\n    Nos Calan Gauaf, 280\n\n\n    O.\n\n    Oaks, Superstitions concerning, 105\n\n    Odin's Spear, 395\n\n    Offrwm, the, 332\n\n    Old Woman of the Mountain, 49\n     \"    \"     \"    Torrent, 216\n\n    Origins of Fairies, 127\n       \"    \"  the Devil, 210\n       \"    \"  Death Omens, 245\n       \"    \"  Customs, 251\n       \"    \"  Spirits, 247\n       \"    \"  Mystic Well Superstitions, 359\n       \"    \"  Superstitions regarding Stones, 383\n       \"    \"  Dragons, 395\n\n    Owen Lawgoch and his Enchanted Men, 392\n\n    Owl's Screech a Death Omen, 213\n\n\n    P.\n\n    Palm Sunday Customs, 266\n\n    Pant Shon Shenkin, the Legend of, 75\n\n    Pant-y-Madoc, the Gwyllgi of, 170\n\n    Pant-y-Saer, the Treasure-Hunter of, 389\n\n    Parc-y-Bigwrn, the Cromlech of, 382\n\n    Parson's Penny, 332\n\n    Pebble-Tossers, Gigantic, 370\n\n    Pembrokeshire a Land of Mystery, 10\n\n    Peredur, the Legend of, 202, 366\n\n    Phantom Horseman, the, 174\n       \"    Ships and Islands, 173\n\n    Pigmies, 24\n\n    Pins in Enchantment, 354\n\n    Place of Strife, the Legend of the, 59\n\n    Plant Annwn, 34\n\n    Planting Weeds on Graves, 298\n       \"     Flowers on Graves, 299, 336\n\n    Plentyn-newid, the, 56\n\n    Plygain, the, 294\n\n    Poetico-Religious Theory of Fairies' Origin, 134\n\n    Polly Williams and the Fairies, 81\n\n    Polyphemus, the Welsh, 179, 202\n\n    Pontypridd, Druidic Ceremonies at, 277\n\n    Preacher and Bwbach, the, 30\n\n    Prolific Woman, Legend of the, 133\n\n    Pronunciation of Welsh Words, Preface\n\n    Propitiation of Goblins, 12, 114\n\n    Psyche, 86\n\n    Puck, the Welsh, 20\n\n    Puzzling Jug, the, 283\n\n    Pwca'r Trwyn, Account of, 187\n       \"     \"    chastises a Servant Girl, 22\n       \"     \"    travels in a Jug, 118\n       \"     \"    a Proscribed Noble, 128\n       \"     \"    was it a Fairy, 190\n\n    Pwyll, Prince of Dyfed, 234\n\n\n    Q.\n\n    Quintain, the, 284, 313\n\n    Quoits, Arthur's, 370\n\n\n    R.\n\n    Ravens, Cave of the, 389\n\n    Realistic Theory of Fairies' Origin, 129\n\n    Red Book of Hergest (Llyfr Coch), 5\n     \"  Fairies, the, 127\n     \"  Lady of Paviland, the, 386\n\n    Rhamanta, 302\n\n    Rhitta Gawr, the Giant, 372\n\n    Rhys and Llewellyn, the Story of, 70\n\n    Rice at Weddings, 314\n\n    Richard the Tailor, 160\n\n    Rip Van Winkle, the Original of, 89\n\n    Robber's Stone, the, 376\n\n    Rocking Stone, Superstitions concerning, 378\n\n    Rowli Pugh and the Ellyll, 15\n\n\n    S.\n\n    Sabbath-breakers Turned to Stone, 376\n\n    Sacred Wells, 345\n\n    Sagranus Stone, the, 375\n\n    Sailors' Superstitions, 9\n\n    St. Barruc's Well, 352\n\n    St. Ceyna, the Legend of, 377\n\n    St. Clement's Day, 284\n\n    St. Collen, the Legend of, 7\n\n    St. Cynfran's Well, 351\n\n    St. Cynhafal's Well, 351\n\n    St. David the Introducer of Death Portents into Wales, 245\n        \"     his Day, 259\n        \"     his Legendary Character, 260\n\n    St. Dogmell's Parish, 69, 273\n\n    St. Dwynwen's Well, 350\n\n    St. Elian's Well, 355\n\n    St. George's Well, 351\n\n    St. Gwenfrewi, the Legend of, 347\n\n    St. Gwynwy's Well, 353\n\n    St. Illtyd's Well, 357\n\n    St. John's Eve, 277\n\n    St. Mary's Well, 346\n\n    St. Melangell's Lambs, 162\n\n    St. Patrick and the Elfin Dames, 35\n         \"      a Welshman, 264\n         \"      his Day, 264\n\n    St. Samson and the Dragon, 392\n\n    St. Tegla's Well, 329, 349\n\n    St. Tydecho's Blue Stone, 367\n\n    St. Ulric's Day, 279\n\n    St. Valentine's Day, 259\n\n    St. Winifred's Well, 346\n\n    Salt at Funerals, 328\n\n    Sanford's Well, 358\n\n    Scapegoat, the, 329\n\n    Science, the Marvels of, 248\n\n    Seeing the Sun Dance, 273\n\n    Serpents Turned to Stones, 377\n\n    Seven Whistlers, the, 213\n\n    Sgilti Yscawndroed, the Lightfooted, 164\n\n    Shakspeare, his use of Welsh Folk-Lore, 14, 44\n         \"      his Visit to Wales, 20\n\n    Shepherds of Cwm Llan, the Legends of the, 121\n\n    Shoe-throwing, 314\n\n    Shon ap Shenkin, the Story of, 92\n\n    Showmen's Superstitions, 255\n\n    Shrove Tuesday, 265\n\n    Shui Rees and the Fairies, 67\n\n    Sin-eater, the, 324\n\n    Sion Cent the Magician, 203\n\n    Skulls, 145\n\n    Sleeping Saints, the, 73\n       \"     Heroes, Legends of, 162, 392\n\n    Snake Stone, the, 278\n\n    Soul, its Future Destiny, 249\n\n    Souls of Dogs, 167\n\n    Sowling, 258\n\n    Spade Money, 333\n\n    Spectral Animals, 167\n\n    Spirit Fountain, the, 178\n      \"    Life, the Question of a, 249\n      \"    Nights, the Three, 280\n      \"    World, Laws Governing the Welsh, 148\n\n    Spirits' Antics, 180\n\n    Spiritual Hunting Dogs, 235\n\n    Spiritualism, 139\n\n    Spitting at the Name of the Devil, 209\n\n    Stanley, Hon. W. O., cited, 19, 115\n\n    Stone-throwing Spirits, 180, 185\n\n    Stone-tossing Giants, 370\n\n    Stone-worship, 361\n\n    Stone of Invisibility, the, 365\n      \"   \"  Remembrance, the, 366\n      \"   \"  Golden Gifts, the, 366\n\n    Stones, Curious Superstitions concerning, 361\n       \"    at Cross-roads, 368\n       \"    of Healing, 367\n\n    Storms, Baleful Spirits of, 385\n\n    Stripping the Carpenter, 284\n\n    Suicides, Superstitions concerning, 146, 331\n\n    Sul Coffa, 335\n\n    Summoning Spirits, 199\n\n    Supernatural, What is the, 248\n\n    Superstition, its Degree of Prevalence, 138, 251\n          \"       in the United States, 139, 252\n\n    Sweethearts' Charms, 302\n\n\n    T.\n\n    Taff's Well, 358\n\n    Taffy ap Sion, the Shoemaker's Son, Legend of, 75\n\n    Tailor Magician of Glanbran, the, 200\n\n    Taliesin, the Tale of, 88\n        \"     his Dragon, 394\n\n    Talking Stone, the, 364\n\n    Tan-wedd, the, 213\n\n    Teetotallers, Fairy Antipathy to, 6\n\n    Teir-nos Ysprydnos, 280\n\n    Terrors of the Brute, Creation at Apparitions, 171\n\n    Teulu, the, 231\n\n    Thief-catching Stone, the, 366\n\n    Thigh Stone, the, 363\n\n    Thomas, Rev. Dr., cited, 300\n\n    Thor's Hammer, 395\n\n    Three Blows, the Story of the, 40\n      \"   Losses by Disappearance, the, 9\n      \"   Nights for Spirits, the, 280\n\n    Throwing at Cocks, 265\n\n    Thunder and Lightning as a Death Omen, 213\n\n    Toads and Warts, 352\n\n    Tolaeth, the, 225\n\n    Tolling the Bell, 340\n\n    Tooling, 258\n\n    Toriad y Dydd, 125\n\n    Transformation of Human Beings to Animals, 167, 381\n            \"           \"       \"     Stone, 374, 376\n\n    Transportation through the Air, 157, 163\n\n    Trichrug, the Giant of, 371\n\n    Tricking the Diawl, 203\n\n    Tridoll Valley Ghost, the, 181\n\n    Tudur of Llangollen, the Story of, 79\n\n    Tump of Lies, the, 273\n\n    Twelfth Night Customs, 256\n\n    Tylwyth Teg, the, 12\n\n\n    U.\n\n    Unknowable, the, 138\n\n    Unlucky Days, 268\n\n\n    V.\n\n    Vale of Neath, the, its Goblin Fame, 6\n\n    Vavasor Powell and the Devil, 198\n\n    Veil, the Goblin, 232\n\n    Venus, the Welsh, 299\n      \"        \"      her Well, 350\n\n    Villemarque cited, 58\n\n\n    W.\n\n    Walking Barefoot to Church, 266\n\n    Walking-stones, 363\n\n    Warts, 351, 367\n\n    Water Maidens, 47\n      \"   Worship, 359\n\n    Wedding Customs, 306\n\n    Wells, Mystic, 345\n\n    Wesley's Belief in Apparitions, 141\n\n    Whistlers, the, 213\n\n    Whistling Goblin, the, 178\n\n    White as a Fairy Colour, 132\n      \"   Catti of the Grove Cave, 144\n\n    Whitening Doorsteps to Keep off the Devil, 207\n\n    Wife of Supernatural Race, 38\n\n    Wild Huntsman, 235\n\n    Will-o'-Wisp, 20\n\n    Witches Sleeping under Stones, 368\n\n    Wonder Stone of Banwan Bryddin, the, 374\n\n    Wraiths, 215\n\n\n    Y.\n\n    Ychain Banog, the, 108, 392\n\n    Yellow Spot before Death, the, 216\n\n\nLONDON: PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, STAMFORD STREET AND\nCHARING CROSS.\n\n\n\n\n_A Catalogue of American and Foreign Books Published or Imported by\nMESSRS. 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J.)_ _Songs of the Hebrew Poets in English Verse._\n  Crown 8vo, red edges, 10_s._ 6_d._\n\n  _Beumers' German Copybooks._ In six gradations at 4_d._ each.\n\n  _Biart (Lucien)._ _See_ \"Adventures of a Young Naturalist,\" \"My\n  Rambles in the New World,\" \"The Two Friends.\"\n\n  _Bickersteth's Hymnal Companion to Book of Common Prayer._\n\n    _The Original Editions, containing 403 Hymns, always kept in\n    Print._\n\n    _Revised and Enlarged Edition, containing 550 Hymns_--\n\n    [*.*] _The Revised Editions are entirely distinct from, and\n    cannot be used with, the original editions._\n\n                                                              _s._ _d._\n     7A Medium 32mo, cloth limp                                0    8\n     7B     ditto    roan                                      1    2\n     7C     ditto    morocco or calf                           2    6\n     8A Super-royal 32mo, cloth limp                           1    0\n     8B     ditto         red edges                            1    2\n     8C     ditto         roan                                 2    2\n     8D     ditto         morocco or calf                      3    6\n     9A Crown 8vo, cloth, red edges                            3    0\n     9B   ditto    roan                                        4    0\n     9C   ditto    morocco or calf                             6    0\n    10A Crown 8vo, with Introduction and Notes, red edges      4    0\n    10B   ditto    roan                                        5    0\n    10C   ditto    morocco                                     7    6\n    11A Penny Edition in Wrapper                               0    1\n    11B   ditto       cloth                                    0    2\n    11G   ditto       fancy cloth                              0    4\n    11C With Prayer Book, cloth                                0    9\n    11D      ditto        roan                                 1    0\n    11E      ditto        morocco                              2    6\n    11F      ditto        persian                              1    6\n    12A Crown 8vo, with Tunes, cloth, plain edges              4    0\n    12B   ditto       ditto    persian, red edges              6    6\n    12C   ditto       ditto    limp morocco, gilt edges        7    6\n    13A Small 4to, for Organ                                   8    6\n    13B  ditto        ditto  limp russia                      21    0\n    14A Tonic Sol-fa Edition                                   3    6\n    14B        ditto         treble and alto only              1    0\n     5B Chants only                                            1    6\n     5D  ditto      4to, for Organ                             3    6\n       The Church Mission Hymn-Book                _per_ 100   8    4\n          Ditto        ditto        cloth              _each_  0    4\n\n    _The \"Hymnal Companion\" may now be had in special bindings\n    for presentation with and without the Common Prayer Book. A\n    red line edition is ready. Lists on application._\n\n  _Bickersteth (Rev. E. H., M.A.)_ _The Reef and other Parables._ 1\n  vol., square 8vo, with numerous very beautiful Engravings, 7_s._\n  6_d._\n\n  ---- _The Clergyman in his Home._ Small post 8vo, 1_s._\n\n  ---- _The Master's Home-Call; or, Brief Memorials of Alice Frances\n  Bickersteth._ 20th Thousand. 32mo, cloth gilt, 1_s._\n\n    \"They recall in a touching manner a character of which the\n    religious beauty has a warmth and grace almost too tender to\n    be definite.\"--_The Guardian._\n\n  ---- _The Master's Will._ A Funeral Sermon preached on the Death of\n  Mrs. S. Gurney Buxton. Sewn, 6_d._; cloth gilt, 1_s._\n\n  ---- _The Shadow of the Rock._ A Selection of Religious Poetry.\n  18mo, cloth extra, 2_s._ 6_d._\n\n  ---- _The Shadowed Home and the Light Beyond._ 7th Edition, crown\n  8vo, cloth extra, 5_s._\n\n  _Bida._ _The Authorized Version of the Four Gospels_, with the whole\n  of the magnificent Etchings on Steel, after drawings by M. BIDA, in\n  4 vols., appropriately bound in cloth extra, price 3_l._ 3_s._ each.\n\n  Also the four volumes in two, bound in the best morocco, by Suttaby,\n  extra gilt edges, 18_l._ 18_s._, half-morocco, 12_l._ 12_s._\n\n    \"Bida's Illustrations of the Gospels of St. Matthew and St.\n    John have already received here and elsewhere a full\n    recognition of their great merits.\"--_Times._\n\n  _Biographies of the Great Artists, Illustrated._ This Series will be\n  issued in Monthly Volumes in the form of Handbooks. Each will be a\n  Monograph of a Great Artist, or a Brief History of a Group of\n  Artists of one School; and will contain Portraits of the Masters,\n  and as many examples of their art as can be readily procured. They\n  will be Illustrated with from 16 to 20 Full-page Engravings, printed\n  in the best manner, which have been contributed from several of the\n  most important Art-Publications of France and Germany, and will be\n  found valuable records of the Painters' Works. The ornamental\n  binding is taken from an Italian design in a book printed at Venice\n  at the end of the Fifteenth Century, and the inside lining from a\n  pattern of old Italian lace. The price of the Volumes is 3_s._\n  6_d._:--\n\n    Titian.            Rubens.             Velasquez.\n    Rembrandt.         Lionardo.           Tintoret and Veronese.\n    Raphael.           Turner.             Hogarth.\n    Van Dyck and Hals. The Little Masters. Michelangelo.\n    Holbein.\n\n  _Black (Wm.)_ _Three Feathers._ Small post 8vo, cloth extra, 6_s._\n\n  ---- _Lady Silverdale's Sweetheart, and other Stories._ 1 vol.,\n  small post 8vo, 6_s._\n\n  ---- _Kilmeny: a Novel._ Small post 8vo, cloth, 6_s._\n\n  ---- _In Silk Attire._ 3rd Edition, small post 8vo, 6_s._\n\n  ---- _A Daughter of Heth._ 11th Edition, small post 8vo, 6_s._\n\n  _Blackmore (R. D.)_ _Lorna Doone._ 10th Edition, cr. 8vo, 6_s._\n\n    \"The reader at times holds his breath, so graphically yet so\n    simply does John Ridd tell his tale.\"--_Saturday Review._\n\n  ---- _Alice Lorraine._ 1 vol., small post 8vo, 6th Edition, 6_s._\n\n  ---- _Clara Vaughan._ Revised Edition, 6_s._\n\n  ---- _Cradock Nowell._ New Edition, 6_s._\n\n  ---- _Cripps the Carrier._ 3rd Edition, small post 8vo, 6_s._\n\n  ---- _Mary Anerley._ 3 vols., 31_s._ 6_d._ _In the press._\n\n  _Blossoms from the Kings Garden: Sermons for Children._ By the Rev.\n  C. BOSANQUET. 2nd Edition, small post 8vo, cloth extra, 6_s._\n\n  _Blue Banner (The); or, The Adventures of a Mussulman, a Christian,\n  and a Pagan, in the time of the Crusades and Mongol Conquest._\n  Translated from the French of LEON CAHUN. With Seventy-six Wood\n  Engravings. Square imperial 16mo, cloth extra, 7_s._ 6_d._\n\n  _Book of English Elegies._ By W. F. MARCH PHILLIPPS. Small post 8vo,\n  cloth extra, 5_s._\n\n    The Aim of the Editor of this Selection has been to collect\n    in a popular form the best and most representative Elegiac\n    Poems which have been written in the English tongue.\n\n  _Book of the Play._ By DUTTON COOK. 2 vols., crown 8vo, 24_s._\n\n  _Border Tales Round the Camp Fire in the Rocky Mountains._ By the\n  Rev. E. B. TUTTLE, Army Chaplain, U.S.A. With Two Illustrations by\n  PHIZ. Crown 8vo, 5_s._\n\n  _Brave Men in Action._ By S. J. MACKENNA. Crown 8vo, 480 pp., cloth,\n  10_s._ 6_d._\n\n  _Brazil and the Brazilians._ By J. C. FLETCHER and D. P. KIDDER. 9th\n  Edition, Illustrated, 8vo, 21_s._\n\n  _Bryant (W. C., assisted by S. H. Gay)_ _A Popular History of the\n  United States._ About 4 vols., to be profusely Illustrated with\n  Engravings on Steel and Wood, after Designs by the best Artists.\n  Vol. I., super-royal 8vo, cloth extra, gilt, 42_s._, is ready.\n\n  _Burnaby (Capt.)_ _See_ \"On Horseback.\"\n\n  _Butler (W. F.)_ _The Great Lone Land; an Account of the Red River\n  Expedition, 1869-70._ With Illustrations and Map. Fifth and Cheaper\n  Edition, crown 8vo, cloth extra, 7_s._ 6_d._\n\n  ---- _The Wild North Land; the Story of a Winter Journey with Dogs\n  across Northern North America._ Demy 8vo, cloth, with numerous\n  Woodcuts and a Map, 4th Edition, 18_s._ Cr. 8vo, 7_s._ 6_d._\n\n  ---- _Akim-foo: the History of a Failure._ Demy 8vo, cloth, 2nd\n  Edition, 16_s._ Also, in crown 8vo, 7_s._ 6_d._\n\n  _By Land and Ocean; or, The Journal and Letters of a Tour round the\n  World by a Young Girl alone_. Crown 8vo, cloth, 7_s._ 6_d._\n\n\n  _Cadogan (Lady A.)_ _Illustrated Games of Patience._ Twenty-four\n  Diagrams in Colours, with Descriptive Text. Foolscap 4to, cloth\n  extra, gilt edges, 3rd Edition, 12_s._ 6_d._\n\n  _Canada under the Administration of Lord Dufferin._ By G. STEWART,\n  Jun., Author of \"Evenings in the Library,\" &c. Cloth gilt, 8vo,\n  15_s._\n\n  _Carbon Process (A Manual of)._ _See_ LIESEGANG.\n\n  _Ceramic Art._ _See_ JACQUEMART.\n\n  _Changed Cross (The)_, and other Religious Poems. 16mo, 2_s._ 6_d._\n\n  _Chatty Letters from the East and West._ By A. H. WYLIE. Small 4to,\n  12_s._ 6_d._\n\n  _Child of the Cavern (The); or, Strange Doings Underground._ By\n  JULES VERNE. Translated by W. H. G. KINGSTON, Author of \"Snow Shoes\n  and Canoes,\" \"Peter the Whaler,\" \"The Three Midshipmen,\" &c., &c.,\n  &c. Numerous Illustrations. Square crown 8vo, cloth extra, gilt\n  edges, 7_s._ 6_d._\n\n  _Child's Play_, with 16 Coloured Drawings by E. V. B. Printed on\n  thick paper, with tints, 7_s._ 6_d._\n\n  ---- _New._ By E. V. B. Similar to the above. _See_ New.\n\n  _Children's Lives and How to Preserve Them; or, The Nursery\n  Handbook._ By W. LOMAS, M.D. Crown 8vo, cloth, 5_s._\n\n  _Choice Editions of Choice Books._ 2_s._ 6_d._ each, Illustrated by\n  C. W. COPE, R.A., T. CRESWICK, R.A., E. DUNCAN, BIRKET FOSTER, J. C.\n  HORSLEY, A.R.A., G. HICKS, R. REDGRAVE, R.A., C. STONEHOUSE, F.\n  TAYLER, G. THOMAS, H. J. TOWNSHEND, E. H. WEHNERT, HARRISON WEIR,\n  &c.\n\n    Bloomfield's Farmer's Boy.\n    Campbell's Pleasures of Hope.\n    Coleridge's Ancient Mariner.\n    Goldsmith's Deserted Village.\n    Goldsmith's Vicar of Wakefield.\n    Gray's Elegy in a Churchyard.\n    Keat's Eve of St. Agnes.\n    Milton's L'Allegro.\n    Poetry of Nature. Harrison Weir.\n    Rogers' (Sam.) Pleasures of Memory.\n    Shakespeare's Songs and Sonnets.\n    Tennyson's May Queen.\n    Elizabethan Poets.\n    Wordsworth's Pastoral Poems.\n\n    \"Such works are a glorious beatification for a\n    poet.\"--_Athenaeum._\n\n  _Christian Activity._ By ELEANOR C. PRICE. Cloth extra, 6_s._\n\n  _Christmas Story-teller (The)._ By Old Hands and New Ones. Crown\n  8vo, cloth extra, gilt edges, Fifty-two Illustrations, 10_s._ 6_d._\n\n  _Church Unity: Thoughts and Suggestions._ By the Rev. V. C. KNIGHT,\n  M.A., University College, Oxford. Crown 8vo, pp. 456, 5_s._\n\n  _Clarke (Cowden)._ _See_ \"Recollections of Writers,\" \"Shakespeare\n  Key.\"\n\n  _Cobbett (William)._ A Biography. By EDWARD SMITH. 2 vols., crown\n  8vo, 25_s._\n\n  _Continental Tour of Eight Days for Forty-four Shillings._ By a\n  JOURNEY-MAN. 12mo, 1_s._\n\n    \"The book is simply delightful.\"--_Spectator._\n\n  _Cook (D.)_ _Book of the Play._ 2 vols., crown 8vo, 24_s._\n\n  _Copyright, National and International._ From the Point of View of a\n  Publisher. Demy 8vo, sewn, 2_s._\n\n  _Covert Side Sketches: Thoughts on Hunting, with Different Packs in\n  Different Countries._ By J. NEVITT FITT (H.H. of the _Sporting\n  Gazette_, late of the _Field_). 2nd Edition. Crown 8vo, cloth,\n  10_s._ 6_d._\n\n  _Cripps the Carrier._ 3rd Edition, 6_s._ _See_ BLACKMORE.\n\n  _Cruise of H.M.S. \"Challenger\" (The)._ By W. J. J. SPRY, R.N. With\n  Route Map and many Illustrations. 6th Edition, demy 8vo, cloth,\n  18_s._ Cheap Edition, crown 8vo, small type, some of the\n  Illustrations, 7_s._ 6_d._\n\n    \"The book before us supplies the information in a manner\n    that leaves little to be desired. 'The Cruise of H.M.S.\n    _Challenger_' is an exceedingly well-written, entertaining,\n    and instructive book.\"--_United Service Gazette._\n\n    \"Agreeably written, full of information, and copiously\n    illustrated.\"--_Broad Arrow._\n\n  _Curious Adventures of a Field Cricket._ By Dr. ERNEST CANDEZE.\n  Translated by N. D'ANVERS. With numerous fine Illustrations. Crown\n  8vo, cloth extra, gilt edges, 7_s._ 6_d._\n\n\n  _Dana (R. H.)_ _Two Years before the Mast and Twenty-Four years\n  After._ Revised Edition with Notes, 12mo, 6_s._\n\n  _Dana (Jas. D.)_ _Corals and Coral Islands._ Numerous Illustrations,\n  Charts, &c. New and Cheaper Edition, with numerous important\n  Additions and Corrections. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 8_s._ 6_d._\n\n  _Daughter (A) of Heth._ By W. BLACK. Crown 8vo, 6_s._\n\n  _Day of My Life (A); or, Every Day Experiences at Eton._ By an ETON\n  BOY, Author of \"About Some Fellows.\" 16mo, cloth extra, 2_s._ 6_d._\n  6th Thousand.\n\n  _Day out of the Life of a Little Maiden (A): Six Studies from Life._\n  By SHERER and ENGLER. Large 4to, in portfolio, 5_s._\n\n  _Diane._ By Mrs. MACQUOID. Crown 8vo, 6_s._\n\n  _Dick Sands, the Boy Captain._ By JULES VERNE. With nearly 100\n  Illustrations, cloth extra, gilt edges, 10_s._ 6_d._\n\n  _Discoveries of Prince Henry the Navigator, and their Results; being\n  the Narrative of the Discovery by Sea, within One Century, of more\n  than Half the World._ By RICHARD HENRY MAJOR, F.S.A. Demy 8vo, with\n  several Woodcuts, 4 Maps, and a Portrait of Prince Henry in Colours.\n  Cloth extra, 15_s._\n\n  _Dodge (Mrs. M.)_ _Hans Brinker; or, the Silver Skates._ An entirely\n  New Edition, with 59 Full-page and other Woodcuts. Square crown 8vo,\n  cloth extra, 7_s._ 6_d._; Text only, paper, 1_s._\n\n  ---- _Theophilus and Others._ 1 vol., small post 8vo, cloth extra,\n  gilt, 3_s._ 6_d._\n\n  _Dogs of Assize._ A Legal Sketch-Book in Black and White. Containing\n  6 Drawings by WALTER J. ALLEN. Folio, in wrapper, 6_s._ 8_d._\n\n  _Dore's Spain._ _See_ \"Spain.\"\n\n  _Dougall's (J. D.)_ _Shooting; its Appliances, Practice, and\n  Purpose._ With Illustrations, cloth extra, 10_s._ 6_d._ See\n  \"Shooting.\"\n\n\n  _Early History of the Colony of Victoria (The), from its Discovery._\n  By FRANCIS P. LABILLIERE, Fellow of the Royal Colonial Institute,\n  &c. 2 vols., crown 8vo, 21_s._\n\n  _Echoes of the Heart._ _See_ MOODY.\n\n  _Elinor Dryden._ By Mrs. MACQUOID. Crown 8vo, 6_s._\n\n  _English Catalogue of Books (The)._ Published during 1863 to 1871\n  inclusive, comprising also important American Publications.\n\n    This Volume, occupying over 450 Pages, shows the Titles of\n    32,000 New Books and New Editions issued during Nine Years,\n    with the Size, Price, and Publisher's Name, the Lists of\n    Learned Societies, Printing Clubs, and other Literary\n    Associations, and the Books issued by them; as also the\n    Publisher's Series and Collections--altogether forming an\n    indispensable adjunct to the Bookseller's Establishment, as\n    well as to every Learned and Literary Club and Association.\n    30_s._, half-bound.\n\n    [*.*] Of the previous Volume, 1835 to 1862, very few remain on\n    sale; as also of the Index Volume, 1837 to 1857.\n\n  ---- _Supplements_, 1863, 1864, 1865, 3_s._ 6_d._ each; 1866, 1867,\n  to 1879, 5_s._ each.\n\n  _Eight Cousins._ _See_ ALCOTT.\n\n  _English Writers_, Chapters for Self-Improvement in English\n  Literature. By the Author of \"The Gentle Life,\" 6_s._\n\n  _Eton._ _See_ \"Day of my Life,\" \"Out of School,\" \"About Some\n  Fellows.\"\n\n  _Evans (C.)_ _Over the Hills and Far Away._ By C. EVANS. One Volume,\n  crown 8vo, cloth extra, 10_s._ 6_d._\n\n  ---- _A Strange Friendship._ Crown 8vo, cloth, 5_s._\n\n\n  _Faith Gartney's Girlhood._ By the Author of \"The Gayworthys.\" Fcap.\n  with Coloured Frontispiece, 3_s._ 6_d._\n\n  _Familiar Letters on some Mysteries of Nature._ _See_ PHIPSON.\n\n  _Family Prayers for Working Men._ By the Author of \"Steps to the\n  Throne of Grace.\" With an Introduction by the Rev. E. H.\n  BICKERSTETH, M.A., Vicar of Christ Church, Hampstead. Cloth, 1_s._\n\n  _Favell Children (The)._ Three Little Portraits. Four Illustrations,\n  crown 8vo, cloth gilt, 4_s._\n\n  _Favourite English Pictures._ Containing Sixteen Permanent Autotype\n  Reproductions of important Paintings of Modern British Artists. With\n  letterpress descriptions. Atlas 4to, cloth extra, 2_l._ 2_s._\n\n  _Fern Paradise (The): A Plea for the Culture of Ferns._ By F. G.\n  HEATH. New Edition, entirely Rewritten, Illustrated with Eighteen\n  full-page and numerous other Woodcuts, and Four permanent\n  Photographs, large post 8vo, handsomely bound in cloth, 12_s._ 6_d._\n\n  _Fern World (The)._ By F. G. HEATH. Illustrated by Twelve Coloured\n  Plates, giving complete Figures (Sixty-four in all) of every Species\n  of British Fern, printed from Nature; by several full-page\n  Engravings; and a permanent Photograph. Large post 8vo, cloth gilt,\n  400 pp., 4th Edition, 12_s._ 6_d._ In 12 parts, sewn, 1_s._ each.\n\n  _Few (A) Hints on Proving Wills._ Enlarged Edition, 1_s._\n\n  _First Ten Years of a Sailor's Life at Sea._ By the Author of \"All\n  About Ships.\" Demy 8vo, Seventeen full-page Illustrations, 480 pp.,\n  3_s._ 6_d._\n\n  _Flammarion (C.) The Atmosphere._ Translated from the French of\n  CAMILLE FLAMMARION. Edited by JAMES GLAISHER, F.R.S. With 10\n  Chromo-lithographs and 81 Woodcuts. Royal 8vo, cloth extra, 30_s._\n\n  _Flooding of the Sahara (The)._ _See_ MACKENZIE.\n\n  _Food for the People; or, Lentils and other Vegetable Cookery._ By\n  E. E. ORLEBAR. Third Thousand. Small post 8vo, boards, 1_s._\n\n  _Footsteps of the Master._ _See_ STOWE (Mrs. BEECHER).\n\n  _Forrest (John)._ _Explorations in Australia._ Being Mr. JOHN\n  FORREST'S Personal Account of his Journeys. 1 vol., demy 8vo, cloth,\n  with several Illustrations and 3 Maps, 16_s._\n\n  _Four Lectures on Electric Induction._ Delivered at the Royal\n  Institution, 1878-9. By J. E. H. GORDON, B.A. Cantab. With numerous\n  Illustrations. Cloth limp, square 16mo, 3_s._\n\n  _Franc (Maude Jeanne)._ The following form one Series, small post\n  8vo, in uniform cloth bindings:--\n\n  ---- _Emily's Choice._ 5_s._\n\n  ---- _Hall's Vineyard._ 4_s._\n\n  ---- _John's Wife: a Story of Life in South Australia._ 4_s._\n\n  ---- _Marian; or, the Light of Some One's Home._ 5_s._\n\n  ---- _Silken Cords and Iron Fetters._ 4_s._\n\n  ---- _Vermont Vale._ 5_s._\n\n  ---- _Minnie's Mission._ 4_s._\n\n  ---- _Little Mercy._ 5_s._\n\n  _Funny Foreigners and Eccentric Englishmen._ 16 coloured comic\n  Illustrations for Children. Fcap. folio, coloured wrapper, 4_s._\n\n\n  _Games of Patience._ _See_ CADOGAN.\n\n  _Garvagh (Lord) The Pilgrim of Scandinavia._ By LORD GARVAGH, B.A.\n  Oxford. 8vo, cloth extra, with Illustrations, 10_s._ 6_d._\n\n  _Geary (Grattan)._ _See_ \"Asiatic Turkey.\"\n\n  _Gentle Life_ (Queen Edition). 2 vols. in 1, small 4to, 10_s._ 6_d._\n\n  THE GENTLE LIFE SERIES.\n\n    Price 6_s._ each; or in calf extra, price 10_s._ 6_d._\n\n    _The Gentle Life._ Essays in aid of the Formation of\n    Character of Gentlemen and Gentlewomen. 21st Edition.\n\n      \"Deserves to be printed in letters of gold, and circulated\n      in every house.\"--_Chambers' Journal._\n\n    _About in the World._ Essays by Author of \"The Gentle Life.\"\n\n      \"It is not easy to open it at any page without finding some\n      handy idea.\"--_Morning Post._\n\n     _Like unto Christ._ A New Translation of Thomas a Kempis'\n    \"De Imitatione Christi.\" With a Vignette from an Original\n    Drawing by Sir THOMAS LAWRENCE. 2nd Edition.\n\n      \"Could not be presented in a more exquisite form, for a more\n      sightly volume was never seen.\"--_Illustrated London News._\n\n    _Familiar Words._ An Index Verborum, or Quotation Handbook.\n    Affording an immediate Reference to Phrases and Sentences\n    that have become embedded in the English language. 3rd and\n    enlarged Edition.\n\n      \"The most extensive dictionary of quotation we have met\n      with.\"--_Notes and Queries._\n\n    _Essays by Montaigne._ Edited and Annotated by the Author of\n    \"The Gentle Life.\" With Portrait. 2nd Edition.\n\n      \"We should be glad if any words of ours could help to\n      bespeak a large circulation for this handsome attractive\n      book.\"--_Illustrated Times._\n\n    _The Countess of Pembroke's Arcadia._ Written by Sir PHILIP\n    SIDNEY. Edited with Notes by Author of \"The Gentle Life.\"\n    7_s._ 6_d._\n\n      \"All the best things are retained intact in Mr. Friswell's\n      edition.\"--_Examiner._\n\n    _The Gentle Life._ 2nd Series, 8th Edition.\n\n      \"There is not a single thought in the volume that does not\n      contribute in some measure to the formation of a true\n      gentleman.\"--_Daily News._\n\n    _Varia: Readings from Rare Books._ Reprinted, by permission,\n    from the _Saturday Review_, _Spectator_, &c.\n\n      \"The books discussed in this volume are no less valuable\n      than they are rare, and the compiler is entitled to the\n      gratitude of the public.\"--_Observer._\n\n    _The Silent Hour: Essays, Original and Selected._ By the\n    Author of \"The Gentle Life.\" 3rd Edition.\n\n      \"All who possess 'The Gentle Life' should own this\n      volume.\"--_Standard._\n\n    _Half-Length Portraits._ Short Studies of Notable Persons.\n    By J. HAIN FRISWELL. Small post 8vo, cloth extra, 6_s._\n\n    _Essays on English Writers_, for the Self-improvement of\n    Students in English Literature.\n\n      \"To all who have neglected to read and study their native\n      literature we would certainly suggest the volume before us\n      as a fitting introduction.\"--_Examiner._\n\n    _Other People's Windows._ By J. HAIN FRISWELL. 3rd Edition.\n\n      \"The chapters are so lively in themselves, so mingled with\n      shrewd views of human nature, so full of illustrative\n      anecdotes, that the reader cannot fail to be\n      amused.\"--_Morning Post._\n\n    _A Man's Thoughts._ By J. HAIN FRISWELL.\n\n  _German Primer._ Being an Introduction to First Steps in German. By\n  M. T. PREU. 2_s._ 6_d._\n\n  _Getting On in the World; or, Hints on Success in Life._ By W.\n  MATHEWS, LL.D. Small post 8vo, cloth, 2_s._ 6_d._; gilt edges, 3_s._\n  6_d._\n\n  _Gilliat (Rev. E.)_ _On the Wolds._ 2 vols., crown 8vo, 21_s._\n\n  _Gilpin's Forest Scenery._ Edited by F. G. HEATH. 1 vol., large\n  post 8vo, with numerous Illustrations. Uniform with \"The Fern World\"\n  and \"Our Woodland Trees.\" 12_s._ 6_d._\n\n  _Gordon (J. E. H.)_ _See_ \"Four Lectures on Electric Induction,\"\n  \"Practical Treatise on Electricity,\" &c.\n\n  _Gouffe._ _The Royal Cookery Book._ By JULES GOUFFE; translated and\n  adapted for English use by ALPHONSE GOUFFE, Head Pastrycook to her\n  Majesty the Queen. Illustrated with large plates printed in colours.\n  161 Woodcuts, 8vo, cloth extra, gilt edges, 2_l._ 2_s._\n\n  ---- Domestic Edition, half-bound, 10_s._ 6_d._\n\n    \"By far the ablest and most complete work on cookery that\n    has ever been submitted to the gastronomical world.\"--_Pall\n    Mall Gazette._\n\n  ---- _The Book of Preserves; or, Receipts for Preparing and\n  Preserving Meat, Fish salt and smoked, &c., &c._ 1 vol., royal 8vo,\n  containing upwards of 500 Receipts and 34 Illustrations, 10_s._\n  6_d._\n\n  ---- _Royal Book of Pastry and Confectionery._ By JULES GOUFFE,\n  Chef-de-Cuisine of the Paris Jockey Club. Royal 8vo, Illustrated\n  with 10 Chromo-lithographs and 137 Woodcuts, from Drawings by E.\n  MONJAT. Cloth extra, gilt edges, 35_s._\n\n  _Gouraud (Mdlle.)_ _Four Gold Pieces._ Numerous Illustrations. Small\n  post 8vo, cloth, 2_s._ 6_d._ _See also_ Rose Library.\n\n  _Government of M. Thiers._ By JULES SIMON. Translated from the\n  French. 2 vols., demy 8vo, cloth extra, 32_s._\n\n  _Gower (Lord Ronald)._ _Handbook to the Art Galleries, Public and\n  Private, of Belgium and Holland._ 18mo, cloth, 5_s._\n\n  ---- _The Castle Howard Portraits._ 2 vols., folio, cl. extra, 6_l._\n  6_s._\n\n  _Greek Grammar._ _See_ WALLER.\n\n  _Guizot's History of France._ Translated by ROBERT BLACK.\n  Super-royal 8vo, very numerous Full-page and other Illustrations. In\n  5 vols., cloth extra, gilt, each 24_s._\n\n    \"It supplies a want which has long been felt, and ought to\n    be in the hands of all students of history.\"--_Times._\n\n    \"Three-fourths of M. Guizot's great work are now completed,\n    and the 'History of France,' which was so nobly planned, has\n    been hitherto no less admirably executed.\"--_From long\n    Review of Vol. III. in the Times._\n\n    \"M. Guizot's main merit is this, that, in a style at once\n    clear and vigorous, he sketches the essential and most\n    characteristic features of the times and personages\n    described, and seizes upon every salient point which can\n    best illustrate and bring out to view what is most\n    significant and instructive in the spirit of the age\n    described.\"--_Evening Standard_, Sept. 23, 1874.\n\n  ---- _History of England._ In 3 vols. of about 500 pp. each,\n  containing 60 to 70 Full-page and other Illustrations, cloth extra,\n  gilt, 24_s._ each.\n\n    \"For luxury of typography, plainness of print, and beauty of\n    illustration, these volumes, of which but one has as yet\n    appeared in English, will hold their own against any\n    production of an age so luxurious as our own in everything,\n    typography not excepted.\"--_Times._\n\n  _Guillemin._ _See_ \"World of Comets.\"\n\n  _Guyon (Mde.)_ _Life._ By UPHAM. 6th Edition, crown 8vo, 6_s._\n\n  _Guyot (A.)_ _Physical Geography._ By ARNOLD GUYOT, Author of\n  \"Earth and Man.\" In 1 volume, large 4to, 128 pp., numerous coloured\n  Diagrams, Maps, and Woodcuts, price 10_s._ 6_d._\n\n\n  _Habitations of Man in all Ages._ _See_ LE-DUC.\n\n  _Hamilton (A. H. A., J.P.)_ _See_ \"Quarter Sessions.\"\n\n  _Handbook to the Charities of London._ _See_ LOW'S.\n\n  ---- _Principal Schools of England._ _See_ Practical.\n\n  _Half-Hours of Blind Man's Holiday; or, Summer and Winter Sketches\n  in Black & White._ By W. W. FENN. 2 vols., cr. 8vo, 24_s._\n\n  _Half-Length Portraits._ Short Studies of Notable Persons. By J.\n  HAIN FRISWELL. Small post 8vo, cloth extra, 6_s._\n\n  _Hall (W. W.)_ _How to Live Long; or, 1408 Health Maxims, Physical,\n  Mental, and Moral._ By W. W. HALL, A.M., M.D. Small post 8vo, cloth,\n  2_s._ Second Edition.\n\n  _Hans Brinker; or, the Silver Skates._ _See_ DODGE.\n\n  _Heart of Africa._ Three Years' Travels and Adventures in the\n  Unexplored Regions of Central Africa, from 1868 to 1871. By Dr.\n  GEORG SCHWEINFURTH. Translated by ELLEN E. FREWER. With an\n  Introduction by WINWOOD READE. An entirely New Edition, revised and\n  condensed by the Author. Numerous Illustrations, and large Map. 2\n  vols., crown 8vo, cloth, 15_s._\n\n  _Heath (F. G.)_ _See_ \"Fern World,\" \"Fern Paradise,\" \"Our Woodland\n  Trees,\" \"Trees and Ferns.\"\n\n  _Heber's (Bishop) Illustrated Edition of Hymns._ With upwards of 100\n  beautiful Engravings. Small 4to, handsomely bound, 7_s._ 6_d._\n  Morocco, 18_s._ 6_d._ and 21_s._ An entirely New Edition.\n\n  _Hector Servadac._ _See_ VERNE. The heroes of this story were\n  carried away through space on the Comet \"Gallia,\" and their\n  adventures are recorded with all Jules Verne's characteristic\n  spirit. With nearly 100 Illustrations, cloth extra, gilt edges,\n  10_s._ 6_d._\n\n  _Henderson (A.)_ _Latin Proverbs and Quotations_; with Translations\n  and Parallel Passages, and a copious English Index. By ALFRED\n  HENDERSON. Fcap. 4to, 530 pp., 10_s._ 6_d._\n\n  _History and Handbook of Photography._ Translated from the French of\n  GASTON TISSANDIER. Edited by J. THOMSON. Imperial 16mo, over 300\n  pages, 70 Woodcuts, and Specimens of Prints by the best Permanent\n  Processes. Second Edition, with an Appendix by the late Mr. HENRY\n  FOX TALBOT, giving an account of his researches. Cloth extra, 6_s._\n\n  _History of a Crime (The); Deposition of an Eye-witness._ By VICTOR\n  HUGO. 4 vols., crown 8vo, 42_s._ Cheap Edition, 1 vol., 6_s._\n\n  ---- _England._ _See_ GUIZOT.\n\n  ---- _France._ _See_ GUIZOT.\n\n  ---- _Russia._ _See_ RAMBAUD.\n\n  ---- _Merchant Shipping._ _See_ LINDSAY.\n\n  ---- _United States._ _See_ BRYANT.\n\n  ---- _Ireland._ By STANDISH O'GRADY. Vol. I. ready, 7_s._ 6_d._\n\n  ---- _American Literature._ By M. C. TYLER. Vols. I. and II., 2\n  vols, 8vo, 24_s._\n\n  _History and Principles of Weaving by Hand and by Power._ With\n  several hundred Illustrations. By ALFRED BARLOW. Royal 8vo, cloth\n  extra, 1_l._ 5_s._\n\n  _Hitherto._ By the Author of \"The Gayworthys.\" New Edition, cloth\n  extra, 3_s._ 6_d._ Also, in Rose Library, 2 vols., 2_s._\n\n  _Hofmann (Carl)._ _A Practical Treatise on the Manufacture of Paper\n  in all its Branches._ Illustrated by 110 Wood Engravings, and 5\n  large Folding Plates. In 1 vol., 4to, cloth; about 400 pp., 3_l._\n  13_s._ 6_d._\n\n  _Home of the Eddas._ By C. G. LOCK. Demy 8vo, cloth, 16_s._\n\n  _How to Build a House._ _See_ LE-DUC.\n\n  _How to Live Long._ _See_ HALL.\n\n  _Hugo (Victor)._ _\"Ninety-Three.\"_ Illustrated. Crown 8vo, 6_s._\n\n  ---- _Toilers of the Sea._ Crown 8vo. Illustrated, 6_s._; fancy\n  boards, 2_s._; cloth, 2_s._ 6_d._; On large paper with all the\n  original Illustrations, 10_s._ 6_d._\n\n  ---- _See_ \"History of a Crime.\"\n\n  _Hundred Greatest Men (The)._ Eight vols., 21_s._ each. See below.\n\n    \"Messrs. Sampson Low & Co. are about to issue an important\n    'International' work, entitled, 'THE HUNDRED GREATEST MEN;'\n    being the Lives and Portraits of the 100 Greatest Men of\n    History, divided into Eight Classes, each Class to form a\n    Monthly Quarto Volume. The Introductions to the volumes are\n    to be written by recognized authorities on the different\n    subjects, the English contributors being DEAN STANLEY, Mr.\n    MATTHEW ARNOLD, Mr. FROUDE, and Professor MAX MUeLLER: in\n    Germany, Professor HELMHOLTZ; in France, MM. TAINE and\n    RENAN; and in America, Mr. EMERSON. The Portraits are to be\n    Reproductions from fine and rare Steel\n    Engravings.\"--_Academy._\n\n  _Hunting, Shooting, and Fishing_; A Sporting Miscellany.\n  Illustrated. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 7_s._ 6_d._\n\n  _Hymnal Companion to Book of Common Prayer._ _See_ BICKERSTETH.\n\n\n  _Illustrations of China and its People._ By J. THOMSON, F.R.G.S.\n  Four Volumes, imperial 4to, each 3_l._ 3_s._\n\n  _In my Indian Garden._ By PHIL. ROBINSON. With a Preface by EDWIN\n  ARNOLD, M.A., C.S.I., &c. Crown 8vo, limp cloth, 3_s._ 6_d._\n\n  _Irish Bar._ Comprising Anecdotes, Bon-Mots, and Biographical\n  Sketches of the Bench and Bar of Ireland. By J. RODERICK O'FLANAGAN,\n  Barrister-at-Law. Crown 8vo, 12_s._ Second Edition.\n\n\n  _Jacquemart (A.)_ _History of the Ceramic Art_: Descriptive and\n  Analytical Study of the Potteries of all Times and of all Nations.\n  By ALBERT JACQUEMART. 200 Woodcuts by H. Catenacci and J.\n  Jacquemart. 12 Steel-plate Engravings, and 1000 Marks and Monograms.\n  Translated by Mrs. BURY PALLISER. In 1 vol., super-royal 8vo, of about\n  700 pp., cloth extra, gilt edges, 28_s._\n\n    \"This is one of those few gift-books which, while they can\n    certainly lie on a table and look beautiful, can also be\n    read through with real pleasure and profit.\"--_Times._\n\n\n  _Kennedy's (Capt. W. R.) Sporting Adventures in the Pacific._ With\n  Illustrations, demy 8vo, 18_s._\n\n  ---- _(Capt. A. W. M. Clark)._ _See_ \"To the Arctic Regions.\"\n\n  _Khedive's Egypt (The); or, The old House of Bondage under New\n  Masters._ By EDWIN DE LEON. Illustrated. Demy 8vo, cloth extra,\n  Third Edition, 18_s._ Cheap Edition, 8_s._ 6_d._\n\n  _Kingston (W. H. G.)_ _See_ \"Snow-Shoes.\"\n\n  ---- _Child of the Cavern._\n\n  ---- _Two Supercargoes._\n\n  ---- _With Axe and Rifle._\n\n  _Koldewey (Capt.)_ _The Second North German Polar Expedition in the\n  Year 1869-70._ Edited and condensed by H. W. BATES. Numerous\n  Woodcuts, Maps, and Chromo-lithographs. Royal 8vo, cloth extra,\n  1_l._ 15_s._\n\n\n  _Lady Silverdale's Sweetheart._ 6_s._ _See_ BLACK.\n\n  _Land of Bolivar (The); or, War, Peace, and Adventure in the\n  Republic of Venezuela._ By JAMES MUDIE SPENCE, F.R.G.S., F.Z.S. 2\n  vols., demy 8vo, cloth extra, with numerous Woodcuts and Maps,\n  31_s._ 6_d._ Second Edition.\n\n  _Landseer Gallery (The)._ Containing thirty-six Autotype\n  Reproductions of Engravings from the most important early works of\n  Sir EDWIN LANDSEER. With a Memoir of the Artist's Life, and\n  Descriptions of the Plates. Imperial 4to, cloth, gilt edges, 2_l._\n  2_s._\n\n  _Le-Duc (V.)_ _How to build a House._ By VIOLLET-LE-DUC, Author of\n  \"The Dictionary of Architecture,\" &c. Numerous Illustrations, Plans,\n  &c. Medium 8vo, cloth, gilt, 12_s._\n\n  ---- _Annals of a Fortress._ Numerous Illustrations and Diagrams.\n  Demy 8vo, cloth extra, 15_s._\n\n  ---- _The Habitations of Man in all Ages._ By E. VIOLLET-LE-DUC.\n  Illustrated by 103 Woodcuts. Translated by BENJAMIN BUCKNALL,\n  Architect. 8vo, cloth extra, 16_s._\n\n  ---- _Lectures on Architecture._ By VIOLLET-LE-DUC. Translated from\n  the French by BENJAMIN BUCKNALL, Architect. In 2 vols., royal 8vo,\n  3_l._ 3_s._ Also in Parts, 10_s._ 6_d._ each.\n\n  ---- _Mont Blanc: a Treatise on its Geodesical and Geological\n  Constitution--its Transformations, and the Old and Modern state of\n  its Glaciers._ By EUGENE VIOLLET-LE-DUC. With 120 Illustrations.\n  Translated by B. BUCKNALL. 1 vol., demy 8vo, 14_s._\n\n  ---- _On Restoration_; with a Notice of his Works by CHARLES\n  WETHERED. Crown 8vo, with a Portrait on Steel of VIOLLET-LE-DUC,\n  cloth extra, 2_s._ 6_d._\n\n  _Lenten Meditations._ In Two Series, each complete in itself. By the\n  Rev. CLAUDE BOSANQUET, Author of \"Blossoms from the King's Garden.\"\n  16mo, cloth, First Series, 1_s._ 6_d._; Second Series, 2_s._\n\n  _Lentils._ _See_ \"Food for the People.\"\n\n  _Liesegang (Dr. Paul E.)_ _A Manual of the Carbon Process of\n  Photography._ Demy 8vo, half-bound, with Illustrations, 4_s._\n\n  _Life and Letters of the Honourable Charles Sumner (The)._ 2 vols.,\n  royal 8vo, cloth. The Letters give full description of London\n  Society--Lawyers--Judges--Visits to Lords Fitzwilliam, Leicester,\n  Wharncliffe, Brougham--Association with Sydney Smith, Hallam,\n  Macaulay, Dean Milman, Rogers, and Talfourd; also, a full Journal\n  which Sumner kept in Paris. Second Edition, 36_s._\n\n  _Lindsay (W. S.)_ _History of Merchant Shipping and Ancient\n  Commerce._ Over 150 Illustrations, Maps and Charts. In 4 vols., demy\n  8vo, cloth extra. Vols. 1 and 2, 21_s._; vols. 3 and 4, 24_s._ each.\n\n  _Lion Jack: a Story of Perilous Adventures amongst Wild Men and\n  Beasts._ Showing how Menageries are made. By P. T. BARNUM. With\n  Illustrations. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, price 6_s._\n\n  _Little King; or, the Taming of a Young Russian Count._ By S.\n  BLANDY. Translated from the French. 64 Illustrations. Crown 8vo,\n  cloth extra, gilt, 7_s._ 6_d._\n\n  _Little Mercy; or, For Better for Worse._ By MAUDE JEANNE FRANC,\n  Author of \"Marian,\" \"Vermont Vale,\" &c., &c. Small post 8vo, cloth\n  extra, 4_s._\n\n  _Long (Col. C. Chaille)._ _Central Africa._ Naked Truths of Naked\n  People: an Account of Expeditions to Lake Victoria Nyanza and the\n  Mabraka Niam-Niam. Demy 8vo, numerous Illustrations, 18_s._\n\n  _Lord Collingwood: a Biographical Study._ By. W. DAVIS. With Steel\n  Engraving of Lord Collingwood. Crown 8vo, 2_s._\n\n  _Lost Sir Massingberd._ New Edition, 16mo, boards, coloured wrapper,\n  2_s._\n\n  _Low's German Series_--\n\n    1. =The Illustrated German Primer.= Being the easiest\n    introduction to the study of German for all beginners, 1_s._\n\n    2. =The Children's own German Book.= A Selection of Amusing\n    and Instructive Stories in Prose. Edited by Dr. A. L.\n    MEISSNER, Professor of Modern Languages in the Queen's\n    University in Ireland. Small post 8vo, cloth, 1_s._ 6_d._\n\n    3. =The First German Reader, for Children from Ten to\n    Fourteen.= Edited by Dr. A. L. MEISSNER. Small post 8vo,\n    cloth, 1_s._ 6_d._\n\n    4. =The Second German Reader.= Edited by Dr. A. L. MEISSNER.\n    Small post 8vo, cloth, 1_s._ 6_d._\n\n    _Buchheim's Deutsche Prosa. Two Volumes, sold\n    separately_:--\n\n    5. =Schiller's Prosa.= Containing Selections from the Prose\n    Works of Schiller, with Notes for English Students. By Dr.\n    BUCHHEIM, Professor of the German Language and Literature,\n    King's College, London. Small post 8vo, 2_s._ 6_d._\n\n    6. =Goethe's Prosa.= Containing Selections from the Prose\n    Works of Goethe, with Notes for English Students. By Dr.\n    BUCHHEIM. Small post 8vo, 3_s._ 6_d._\n\n  _Low's Standard Library of Travel and Adventure._ Crown 8vo, bound\n  uniformly in cloth extra, price 7_s._ 6_d._\n\n    1. =The Great Lone Land.= By W. F. BUTLER, C.B.\n\n    2. =The Wild North Land.= By W. F. BUTLER, C.B.\n\n    3. =How I found Livingstone.= By H. M. STANLEY.\n\n    4. =The Threshold of the Unknown Region.= By C. R. MARKHAM.\n    (4th Edition, with Additional Chapters, 10_s._ 6_d._)\n\n    5. =A Whaling-Cruise to Baffin's Bay and the Gulf of\n    Boothia.= By A. H. MARKHAM.\n\n    6. =Campaigning on the Oxus.= By J. A. MACGAHAN.\n\n    7. =Akim-foo: the History of a Failure.= By MAJOR W. F.\n    BUTLER, C.B.\n\n    8. =Ocean to Ocean.= By the Rev. GEORGE M. GRANT. With\n    Illustrations.\n\n    9. =Cruise of the Challenger.= By W. J. J. SPRY, R.N.\n\n    10. =Schweinfurth's Heart of Africa.= 2 vols., 15_s._\n\n  _Low's Standard Novels._ Crown 8vo, 6_s._ each, cloth extra.\n\n    =Three Feathers.= By WILLIAM BLACK.\n\n    =A Daughter of Heth.= 13th Edition. By W. BLACK. With\n    Frontispiece by F. WALKER, A.R.A.\n\n    =Kilmeny.= A Novel. By W. BLACK.\n\n    =In Silk Attire.= By W. BLACK.\n\n    =Lady Silverdale's Sweetheart.= By W. BLACK.\n\n    =Alice Lorraine.= By R. D. BLACKMORE.\n\n    =Lorna Doone.= By R. D. BLACKMORE. 8th Edition.\n\n    =Cradock Nowell.= By R. D. BLACKMORE.\n\n    =Clara Vaughan.= By R. D. BLACKMORE.\n\n    =Cripps the Carrier.= By R. D. BLACKMORE.\n\n    =Innocent.= By Mrs. OLIPHANT. Eight Illustrations.\n\n    =Work.= A Story of Experience. By LOUISA M. ALCOTT.\n    Illustrations. _See also_ Rose Library.\n\n    =A French Heiress in her own Chateau.= By the author of \"One\n    Only,\" \"Constantia,\" &c. Six Illustrations.\n\n    =Ninety-Three.= By VICTOR HUGO. Numerous Illustrations.\n\n    =My Wife and I.= By Mrs. BEECHER STOWE.\n\n    =Wreck of the Grosvenor.= By W. CLARK RUSSELL.\n\n    =Elinor Dryden.= By Mrs. MACQUOID.\n\n    =Diane.= By Mrs. MACQUOID.\n\n  _Low's Handbook to the Charities of London for 1879._ Edited and\n  revised to July, 1879, by C. MACKESON, F.S.S., Editor of \"A Guide to\n  the Churches of London and its Suburbs,\" &c. 1_s._\n\n\n  _MacGahan (J. A.)_ _Campaigning on the Oxus, and the Fall of Khiva._\n  With Map and numerous Illustrations, 4th Edition, small post 8vo,\n  cloth extra, 7_s._ 6_d._\n\n  ---- _Under the Northern Lights; or, the Cruise of the \"Pandora\" to\n  Peel's Straits, in Search of Sir John Franklin's Papers._ With\n  Illustrations by Mr. DE WYLDE, who accompanied the Expedition. Demy\n  8vo, cloth extra, 18_s._\n\n  _Macgregor (John)_ _\"Rob Roy\" on the Baltic._ 3rd Edition small post\n  8vo, 2_s._ 6_d._\n\n  ---- _A Thousand Miles in the \"Rob Roy\" Canoe._ 11th Edition, small\n  post 8vo, 2_s._ 6_d._\n\n  ---- _Description of the \"Rob Roy\" Canoe_, with Plans, &c., 1_s._\n\n  ---- _The Voyage Alone in the Yawl \"Rob Roy.\"_ New Edition,\n  thoroughly revised, with additions, small post 8vo, 5_s._\n\n  _Mackenzie (D.)_ _The Flooding of the Sahara._ An Account of the\n  Project for opening direct communication with 38,000,000 people.\n  With a Description of North-West Africa and Soudan. By DONALD\n  MACKENZIE. 8vo, cloth extra, with Illustrations, 10_s._ 6_d._\n\n  _Macquoid (Mrs.)_ _Elinor Dryden._ Crown 8vo, cloth, 6_s._\n\n  ---- _Diane._ Crown 8vo, 6_s._\n\n  _Marked Life (A); or, The Autobiography of a Clairvoyante._ By\n  \"GIPSY.\" Post 8vo, 5_s._\n\n  _Markham (A. H.)_ _The Cruise of the \"Rosario.\"_ By A. H. MARKHAM,\n  R.N. 8vo, cloth extra, with Map and Illustrations.\n\n  ---- _A Whaling Cruise to Baffin's Bay and the Gulf of Boothia._\n  With an Account of the Rescue by his Ship, of the Survivors of the\n  Crew of the \"Polaris;\" and a Description of Modern Whale Fishing.\n  3rd and Cheaper Edition, crown 8vo, 2 Maps and Several\n  Illustrations, cloth extra, 7_s._ 6_d._\n\n  _Markham (C. R.)_ _The Threshold of the Unknown Region._ Crown 8vo,\n  with Four Maps, 4th Edition, with Additional Chapters, giving the\n  History of our present Expedition, as far as known, and an Account\n  of the Cruise of the \"Pandora.\" Cloth extra, 10_s._ 6_d._\n\n  _Maury (Commander)._ _Physical Geography of the Sea, and its\n  Meteorology._ Being a Reconstruction and Enlargement of his former\n  Work, with Charts and Diagrams. New Edition, crown 8vo, 6_s._\n\n  _Men of Mark: a Gallery of Contemporary Portraits of the most\n  Eminent Men of the Day taken from Life_, especially for this\n  publication, price 1_s._ 6_d._ monthly. Vols. I., II., and III.\n  handsomely bound, cloth, gilt edges, 25_s._ each.\n\n  _Mercy Philbrick's Choice._ Small post 8vo, 3_s._ 6_d._\n\n    \"The story is of a high character, and the play of feeling\n    is very subtilely and cleverly wrought out.\"--_British\n    Quarterly Review._\n\n  _Michael Strogoff._ 10_s._ 6_d._ _See_ VERNE.\n\n  _Michie (Sir A., K.C.M.G.)_ _See_ \"Readings in Melbourne.\"\n\n  _Mitford (Miss)._ _See_ \"Our Village.\"\n\n  _Mohr (E.)_ _To the Victoria Falls of the Zambesi._ By EDWARD MOHR.\n  Translated by N. D'ANVERS. Numerous Full-page and other Woodcut\n  Illustrations, Four Chromo-lithographs, and Map. Demy 8vo, cloth\n  extra, 24_s._\n\n  _Montaigne's Essays._ _See_ \"Gentle Life Series.\"\n\n  _Mont Blanc._ _See_ LE-DUC.\n\n  _Moody (Emma)._ _Echoes of the Heart._ A Collection of upwards of\n  200 Sacred Poems. 16mo, cloth, gilt edges, 3_s._ 6_d._\n\n  _My Brother Jack; or, The Story of Whatd'yecallem._ Written by\n  Himself. From the French of ALPHONSE DAUDET. Illustrated by P.\n  PHILIPPOTEAUX. Square imperial 16mo, cloth extra, 7_s._ 6_d._\n\n    \"He would answer to Hi! or to any loud cry,\n    To What-you-may-call-'em, or What was his name;\n    But especially Thingamy-jig.\"--_Hunting of the Snark._\n\n  _My Rambles in the New World._ By LUCIEN BIART, Author of \"The\n  Adventures of a Young Naturalist.\" Crown 8vo, cloth extra. Numerous\n  full-page Illustrations, 7_s._ 6_d._\n\n  _Mysterious Island._ By JULES VERNE. 3 vols., imperial 16mo. 150\n  Illustrations, cloth gilt, 3_s._ 6_d._ each; elaborately bound, gilt\n  edges, 7_s._ 6_d._ each.\n\n\n  _Nares (Sir G. 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D.)= =My Summer in a Garden.=\n\n    29. =Hitherto.= By the Author of \"The Gayworthys.\" 2 vols.,\n    1_s._ each.\n\n    30. =Helen's Babies.= By their Latest Victim.\n\n    31. =The Barton Experiment.= By the Author of \"Helen's\n    Babies.\"\n\n    32. =Dred.= By Mrs. BEECHER STOWE. Double vol., 2_s._ Cloth,\n    gilt, 3_s._ 6_d._\n\n    33. =Warner (C. D.)= =In the Wilderness.=\n\n    34. =Six to One.= A Seaside Story.\n\n  _Russell (W. H., LL.D.)_ _The Tour of the Prince of Wales in India,\n  and his Visits to the Courts of Greece, Egypt, Spain, and Portugal._\n  By W. H. RUSSELL, LL.D., who accompanied the Prince throughout his\n  journey; fully Illustrated by SYDNEY P. HALL, M.A., the Prince's\n  Private Artist, with his Royal Highness's special permission to use\n  the Sketches made during the Tour. Super-royal 8vo, cloth extra,\n  gilt edges, 52_s._ 6_d._; Large Paper Edition, 84_s._\n\n\n  _Sancta Christina: a Story of the First Century._ By ELEANOR E.\n  ORLEBAR. With a Preface by the Bishop of Winchester. Small post 8vo,\n  cloth extra, 5_s._\n\n  _Schweinfurth (Dr. G.)_ _Heart of Africa._ Which see.\n\n  ---- _Artes Africanae._ Illustrations and Description of Productions\n  of the Natural Arts of Central African Tribes. With 26 Lithographed\n  Plates, imperial 4to, boards, 28_s._\n\n  _Scientific Memoirs: being Experimental Contributions to a Knowledge\n  of Radiant Energy._ By JOHN WILLIAM DRAPER, M.D., LL.D., Author of\n  \"A Treatise on Human Physiology,\" &c. With Steel Portrait of the\n  Author. Demy 8vo, cloth, 473 pages, 14_s._\n\n  _Scott (Sir G. Gilbert)._ _See_ \"Autobiography.\"\n\n  _Sea-Gull Rock._ By JULES SANDEAU, of the French Academy. Royal\n  16mo, with 79 Illustrations, cloth extra, gilt edges, 7_s._ 6_d._\n  Cheaper Edition, cloth gilt, 2_s._ 6_d._ _See also_ Rose Library.\n\n  _Seonee: Sporting in the Satpura Range of Central India, and in the\n  Valley of the Nerbudda._ By R. A. STERNDALE, F.R.G.S. 8vo, with\n  numerous Illustrations, 21_s._\n\n  _Shakespeare (The Boudoir)._ Edited by HENRY CUNDELL. Carefully\n  bracketted for reading aloud; freed from all objectionable matter,\n  and altogether free from notes. Price 2_s._ 6_d._ each volume, cloth\n  extra, gilt edges. Contents:--Vol I., Cymbeline--Merchant of Venice.\n  Each play separately, paper cover, 1_s._ Vol. II., As You Like\n  It--King Lear--Much Ado about Nothing. Vol. III., Romeo and\n  Juliet--Twelfth Night--King John. The latter six plays separately,\n  paper cover, 9_d._\n\n  _Shakespeare Key (The)._ Forming a Companion to \"The Complete\n  Concordance to Shakespeare.\" By CHARLES and MARY COWDEN CLARKE. Demy\n  8vo, 800 pp., 21_s._\n\n  _Shooting: its Appliances, Practice, and Purpose._ By JAMES DALZIEL\n  DOUGALL, F.S.A., F.Z.A. Author of \"Scottish Field Sports,\" &c. Crown\n  8vo, cloth extra, 10_s._ 6_d._\n\n    \"The book is admirable in every way.... 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CLARK RUSSELL. 6_s._ Third and\n  Cheaper Edition.\n\n\n  _Xenophon's Anabasis; or, Expedition of Cyrus._ A Literal\n  Translation, chiefly from the Text of Dindorff, by GEORGE B.\n  WHEELER. Books I to III. Crown 8vo, boards, 2_s._\n\n  ---- _Books I. to VII._ Boards, 3_s._ 6_d._\n\n\n  London:\n  SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON, SEARLE, & RIVINGTON,\n  CROWN BUILDINGS, 188, FLEET STREET.\n\n\n\n\nTranscriber's Note\n\nMinor punctuation errors have been repaired.\n\nHyphenation and accent usage has been made consistent throughout.\nCapitalisation of items in the Table of contents and chapter headers\nhas been made consistent.\n\nOn page 181, following an account of the damage caused by spirits is\nthe line \"This pleasant experience was often repeated.\" The word\n'pleasant' may be an error on the part of the author or typesetter,\nand 'unpleasant' was actually intended, or it may be deliberate on the\npart of the author. Since it is impossible to be sure, it is preserved\nas printed.\n\nThe following amendments have been made, addressing typographic errors\nor inconsistency:\n\n    Page xi--Llwellyn amended to Llewellyn--\"... Ianto Llewellyn\n    and the Tylwyth Teg ...\"\n\n    Page 17--reducable amended to reducible--\"... all household\n    tales are reducible to a primeval root ...\"\n\n    Page 45--hurrry amended to hurry--\"... in her hurry to\n    remount, ...\"\n\n    Page 49--Llanhyddel amended to Llanhiddel--\"... the guise in\n    which she haunted Llanhiddel Mountain ...\"\n\n    Page 75--acccustomed amended to accustomed--\"... the barren\n    mountain he was accustomed to.\"\n\n    Page 106--Mammau amended to Mamau--\"... Ni chytunant hwy mwy\n    na Bendith eu Mamau, ...\"\n\n    Page 117--Dolgelly amended to Dolgelley--\"But first\n    consulting a wise woman at Dolgelley, ...\"\n\n    Page 117--gods amended to goods (based on reference to same\n    further up the same page)--\"He was flitting with the\n    household goods, ...\"\n\n    Page 125--Mammau amended to Mamau--\"... as Bendith y Mamau\n    was poured down ...\"\n\n    Page 135--hape amended to have--\"... may desire to know why\n    these fairies have appeared ...\"\n\n    Page 137--Shakespeare amended to Shakspeare--\"SHAKSPEARE:\n    _Tempest_.\"\n\n    Page 176--Lantarnam amended to Llantarnam--\"... who lived in\n    the parish of Llantarnam.\"\n\n    Page 241--Landavenis amended to Landavensis--\"In the 'Liber\n    Landavensis' it is mentioned ...\"\n\n    Page 275--Llud amended to Lludd--\"... the daughter of Lludd\n    Llaw Ereint.\"\n\n    Page 276--VIII amended to VII--\"VII. In the remote and\n    primitive parish ...\"\n\n    Page 314--IV amended to III--\"III. Among the wealthier\n    classes ...\"\n\n    Page 317--V amended to IV--\"IV. A custom called the\n    Coolstrin ...\"\n\n    Page 338--Faery amended to Faerie--\"SPENSER: _Faerie\n    Queene_.\"\n\n    Page 343--Taf amended to Taff--\"When they came to the banks\n    of the river Taff, ...\"\n\n    Page 358--well amended to Well--\"Taff's Well, in\n    Glamorganshire, ...\"\n\n    Page 399--Gwin amended to Gwyn--\"Catrin Gwyn, the Legend of,\n    144\"\n\n    Page 400--Wybyr amended to Wybr--\"Cwn y Wybr, 233\"\n\n    Page 404--Howel amended to Howell--\"Howell Dda, 298\"\n\n    Page 408--Dyved amended to Dyfed--\"Pwyll, Prince of Dyfed,\n    234\"\n\nThe frontispiece illustration has been moved to follow the title page.\nOther illustrations have been moved where necessary so that they are\nnot in the middle of a paragraph.\n\n\n\n\n\n<pre id=\"pg-footer\">","title":"British Goblins: Welsh Folk-lore, Fairy Mythology, Legends and Traditions","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":127907}