{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_55025/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_55025","id":"gutenberg_55025","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/55025","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Celts -- Isle of Man -- Folklore","Celts -- Wales -- Folklore","Folklore -- Isle of Man","Mythology, Celtic -- Isle of Man","Mythology, Celtic -- Wales"],"text":"CELTIC FOLKLORE\n\n                             WELSH AND MANX\n\n                                   BY\n\n                        JOHN RHYS, M.A., D.Litt.\n\n               HON. LL.D. OF THE UNIVERSITY OF EDINBURGH\n                          PROFESSOR OF CELTIC\n                   PRINCIPAL OF JESUS COLLEGE, OXFORD\n\n\n                                VOLUME I\n\n                                 OXFORD\n\n                         AT THE CLARENDON PRESS\n                                MDCCCCI\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n                              TO ALL THOSE\n                   WHO HAVE IN ANY WAY CONTRIBUTED TO\n                      THE PRODUCTION OF THIS WORK\n                           IT IS RESPECTFULLY\n                               DEDICATED\n                       IN TOKEN OF HIS GRATITUDE\n                                   BY\n                               THE AUTHOR\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n        Our modern idioms, with all their straining after the\n        abstract, are but primitive man's mental tools adapted\n        to the requirements of civilized life, and they often\n        retain traces of the form and shape which the neolithic\n        worker's chipping and polishing gave them.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE\n\n\nTowards the close of the seventies I began to collect Welsh folklore. I\ndid so partly because others had set the example elsewhere, and partly\nin order to see whether Wales could boast of any story-tellers of\nthe kind that delight the readers of Campbell's Popular Tales of the\nWest Highlands. I soon found what I was not wholly unprepared for,\nthat as a rule I could not get a single story of any length from the\nmouths of any of my fellow countrymen, but a considerable number of\nbits of stories. In some instances these were so scrappy that it took\nme years to discover how to fit them into their proper context; but,\nspeaking generally, I may say, that, as the materials, such as they\nwere, accumulated, my initial difficulties disappeared. I was, however,\nalways a little afraid of refreshing my memory with the legends of\nother lands lest I should read into those of my own, ideas possibly\nforeign to them. While one is busy collecting, it is safest probably\nnot to be too much engaged in comparison: when the work of collecting\nis done that of comparing may begin. But after all I have not attempted\nto proceed very far in that direction, only just far enough to find\nelucidation here and there for the meaning of items of folklore\nbrought under my notice. To have gone further would have involved\nme in excursions hopelessly beyond the limits of my undertaking,\nfor comparative folklore has lately assumed such dimensions, that it\nseems best to leave it to those who make it their special study.\n\nIt is a cause of genuine regret to me that I did not commence my\ninquiries earlier, when I had more opportunities of pursuing them,\nespecially when I was a village schoolmaster in Anglesey and could\nhave done the folklore of that island thoroughly; but my education,\nsuch as it was, had been of a nature to discourage all interest in\nanything that savoured of heathen lore and superstition. Nor is that\nall, for the schoolmasters of my early days took very little trouble\nto teach their pupils to keep their eyes open or take notice of what\nthey heard around them; so I grew up without having acquired the\nhabit of observing anything, except the Sabbath. It is to be hoped\nthat the younger generation of schoolmasters trained under more\nauspicious circumstances, when the baleful influence of Robert Lowe\nhas given way to a more enlightened system of public instruction,\nwill do better, and succeed in fostering in their pupils habits of\nobservation. At all events there is plenty of work still left to be\ndone by careful observers and skilful inquirers, as will be seen\nfrom the geographical list showing approximately the provenance\nof the more important contributions to the Kymric folklore in this\ncollection: the counties will be found to figure very unequally. Thus\nthe anglicizing districts have helped me very little, while the more\nWelsh county of Carnarvon easily takes the lead; but I am inclined to\nregard the anomalous features of that list as in a great measure due\nto accident. In other words, some neighbourhoods have been luckier\nthan others in having produced or attracted men who paid attention\nto local folklore; and if other counties were to be worked equally\nwith Carnarvonshire, some of them would probably be found not much\nless rich in their yield. The anglicizing counties in particular are\napt to be disregarded both from the Welsh and the English points of\nview, in folklore just as in some other things; and in this connexion\nI cannot help mentioning the premature death of the Rev. Elias Owen\nas a loss which Welsh folklorists will not soon cease to regret.\n\nMy information has been obtained partly viva voce, partly by\nletter. In the case of the stories written down for me in Welsh,\nI may mention that in some instances the language is far from good;\nbut it has not been thought expedient to alter it in any way, beyond\nintroducing some consistency into the spelling. In the case of the\nlongest specimen of the written stories, Mr. J. C. Hughes' Curse of\nPantannas, it is worthy of notice in passing, that the rendering of\nit into English was followed by a version in blank verse by Sir Lewis\nMorris, who published it in his Songs of Britain. With regard to the\nwork generally, my original intention was to publish the materials,\nobtained in the way described, with such stories already in print\nas might be deemed necessary by way of setting for them; and to let\nany theories or deductions in which I might be disposed to indulge\nfollow later. In this way the first six chapters and portions of\nsome of the others appeared from time to time in the publications of\nthe Honourable Society of Cymmrodorion and in those of the Folk-Lore\nSociety. This would have allowed me to divide the present work into\nthe two well marked sections of materials and deductions. But, when\nthe earlier part came to be edited, I found that I had a good deal of\nfresh material at my disposal, so that the chapters in question had\nin some instances to be considerably lengthened and in some others\nmodified in other ways. Then as to the deductive half of the work,\nit may be mentioned that certain portions of the folklore, though\never apt to repeat themselves, were found when closely scrutinized\nto show serious lacun\u00e6, which had to be filled in the course of the\nreasoning suggested by the materials in hand. Thus the idea of the\nwhole consisting of two distinctly defined sections had to be given\nup or else allowed to wait till I should find time to recast it. But\nI could no more look forward to any such time than to the eventual\npossibility of escaping minor inconsistencies by quietly stepping\nthrough the looking-glass and beginning my work with the index\ninstead of resting content to make it in the old-fashioned way at the\nend. There was, however, a third course, which is only mentioned to\nbe rejected, and that was to abstain from all further publication; but\nwhat reader of books has ever known any of his authors to adopt that!\n\nTo crown these indiscretions I have to confess that even when most of\nwhat I may call the raw material had been brought together, I had no\nclear idea what I was going to do with it; but I had a hazy notion,\nthat, as in the case of an inveterate talker whose stream of words\nis only made the more boisterous by obstruction, once I sat down to\nwrite I should find reasons and arguments flowing in. It may seem\nas though I had been secretly conjuring with Vergil's words viresque\nadquirit eundo. Nothing so deliberate: the world in which I live swarms\nwith busybodies dying to organize everybody and everything, and my\ninstinctive opposition to all that order of tyranny makes me inclined\nto cherish a somewhat wild sort of free will. Still the cursory\nreader would be wrong to take for granted that there is no method\nin my madness: should he take the trouble to look for it, he would\nfind that it has a certain unity of purpose, which has been worked\nout in the later chapters; but to spare him that trouble I venture\nto become my own expositor and to append the following summary:--\n\nThe materials crowded into the earlier chapters mark out the stories\nconnected with the fairies, whether of the lakes or of the dry land, as\nthe richest lode to be exploited in the mine of Celtic folklore. That\nwork is attempted in the later chapters; and the analysis of what\nmay briefly be described as the fairy lore given in the earlier ones\ncarries with it the means of forcing the conviction, that the complex\ngroup of ideas identified with the little people is of more origins\nthan one; in other words, that it is drawn partly from history and\nfact, and partly from the world of imagination and myth. The latter\nelement proves on examination to be inseparably connected with certain\nancient beliefs in divinities and demons associated, for instance, with\nlakes, rivers, and floods. Accordingly, this aspect of fairy lore has\nbeen dealt with in chapters vi and vii: the former is devoted largely\nto the materials themselves, while the latter brings the argument to\na conclusion as to the intimate connexion of the fairies with the\nwater-world. Then comes the turn of the other kind of origin to be\ndiscussed, namely, that which postulates the historical existence of\nthe fairies as a real race on which have been lavishly superinduced\nvarious impossible attributes. This opens up a considerable vista\ninto the early ethnology of these islands, and it involves a variety\nof questions bearing on the fortunes here of other races. In the\nseries which suggests itself the fairies come first as the oldest\nand lowest people: then comes that which I venture to call Pictish,\npossessed of a higher civilization and of warlike instincts. Next\ncome the earlier Celts of the Goidelic branch, the traces, linguistic\nand other, of whose presence in Wales have demanded repeated notice;\nand last of all come the other Celts, the linguistic ancestors of the\nWelsh and all the other speakers of Brythonic. The development of these\ntheses, as far as folklore supplies materials, occupies practically the\nremaining five chapters. Among the subsidiary questions raised may be\ninstanced those of magic and the origin of druidism; not to mention a\nneglected aspect of the Arthurian legend, the intimate association of\nthe Arthur of Welsh folklore and tradition with Snowdon, and Arthur's\nattitude towards the Goidelic population in his time.\n\nLastly, I have the pleasant duty of thanking all those who have\nhelped me, whether by word of mouth or by letter, whether by\nreference to already printed materials or by assistance in any\nother way: the names of many of them will be found recorded in their\nproper places. As a rule my inquiries met with prompt replies, and\nI am not aware that any difficulties were purposely thrown in my\nway. Nevertheless I have had difficulties in abundance to encounter,\nsuch as the natural shyness of some of those whom I wished to examine\non the subject of their recollections, and above all the unavoidable\ndifficulty of cross-questioning those whose information reached me\nby post. For the precise value of any evidence bearing on Celtic\nfolklore is almost impossible to ascertain, unless it can be made\nthe subject of cross-examination. This arises from the fact that we\nCelts have a knack of thinking ourselves in complete accord with what\nwe fancy to be in the inquirer's mind, so that we are quite capable\nof misleading him in perfect good faith. A most apposite instance,\ndeserving of being placed on record, came under my notice many years\nago. In the summer of 1868 I spent several months in Paris, where I\nmet the historian Henri Martin more than once. On being introduced to\nhim he reminded me that he had visited South Wales not long before,\nand that he had been delighted to find the peasantry there still\nbelieving in the transmigration of souls. I expressed my surprise, and\nremarked that he must be joking. Nothing of the kind, he assured me,\nas he had questioned them himself: the fact admitted of no doubt. I\nexpressed further surprise, but as I perceived that he was proud of the\nresult of his friendly encounters with my countrymen I never ventured\nto return to the subject, though I always wondered what in the world\nit could mean. A few years ago, however, I happened to converse with\none of the most charming and accomplished of Welsh ladies, when she\nchanced to mention Henri Martin's advent: it turned out that he had\nvisited Dr. Charles Williams, then the Principal of Jesus College,\nand that Dr. Williams introduced him to his friends in South Wales. So\nM. Martin arrived among the hospitable friends of the lady talking\nto me, who had in fact to act as his interpreter: I never understood\nthat he could talk much English or any Welsh. Now I have no doubt that\nM. Martin, with his fixed ideas about the druids and their teaching,\npropounded palpably leading questions for the Welsh people whom he\nwished to examine. His fascinating interpreter put them into terse\nWelsh, and the whole thing was done. I could almost venture to write\nout the dialogue, which gave back to the great Frenchman his own exact\nnotions from the lips of simple peasants in that subtle non-Aryan\nsyntax, which no Welsh barrister has ever been able to explain to\nthe satisfaction of a bewildered English judge trying to administer\njustice among a people whom he cannot wholly comprehend.\n\nThis will serve to illustrate one of the difficulties with which\nthe collector of folklore in Wales has to cope. I have done my best\nto reduce the possible extent of the error to which it might give\nrise; and it is only fair to say that those whom I plagued with my\nquestionings bore the tedium of it with patience, and that to them\nmy thanks are due in a special degree. Neither they, however, nor I,\ncould reasonably complain, if we found other folklorists examining\nother witnesses on points which had already occupied us; for in\nsuch matters one may say with confidence, that in the multitude of\ncounsellors there is safety.\n\n\nJOHN RHYS.\n\nJesus College, Oxford, Christmas, 1900.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n                                                            PAGE\n\n    GEOGRAPHICAL LIST OF AUTHORITIES                         xxv\n\n    LIST OF BIBLIOGRAPHICAL REFERENCES                      xxxi\n\n\n    CHAPTER I\n\n    Undine's Kymric Sisters                                    1\n\n        I.    The legend of Llyn y Fan Fach                    2\n        II.   The legend of Llyn y Forwyn                     23\n        III.  Some Snowdon lake legends                       30\n        IV.   The heir of Ystrad                              38\n        V.    Llandegai and Llanllechid                       50\n        VI.   Mapes' story of Llyn Syfadon                    70\n\n\n    CHAPTER II\n\n    The Fairies' Revenge                                      75\n\n        I.    Bedgelert and its environs                      75\n        II.   The Pennant Valley                             107\n        III.  Glasynys' yarns                                109\n        IV.   An apple story                                 125\n        V.    The Conwy afanc                                130\n        VI.   The Berwyn and Aran Fawdwy                     135\n        VII.  The hinterland of Aberdovey                    141\n        VIII. Some more Merioneth stories                    146\n        IX.   The Children of Rhys Dwfn                      151\n        X.    Southey and the Green Isles of the Sea         169\n        XI.   The curse of Pantannas                         173\n        XII.  More fairy displeasure                         192\n\n\n    CHAPTER III\n\n    Fairy Ways and Words                                     197\n\n        I.    The folklore of Nant Conwy                     197\n        II.   Scenes of the Mabinogi of Math                 207\n        III.  Celynnog Fawr and Llanaelhaearn                214\n        IV.   The blind man's folklore                       219\n        V.    The old saddler's recollections                222\n        VI.   Traces of Tom Tit Tot                          226\n        VII.  March and his horse's ears                     231\n        VIII. The story of the Marchlyn Mawr                 234\n        IX.   The fairy ring of Cae Lleidr Dyfrydog          238\n        X.    A Cambrian kelpie                              242\n        XI.   Sundry traits of fairy character               244\n        XII.  Ynys Geinon and its fairy treasures            251\n        XIII. The aged infant                                257\n        XIV.  Fairy speech                                   269\n\n\n    CHAPTER IV\n\n    Manx Folklore                                            284\n\n        The fenodyree or Manx brownie                        286\n        The sleih beggey or little people                    289\n        The butches or witches and the hare                  293\n        Charmers and their methods                           296\n        Comparisons from the Channel Islands                 301\n        Magic and ancient modes of thought                   302\n        The efficacy of fire to detect the witch             304\n        Burnt sacrifices                                     305\n        Laa Boaldyn or May-day                               308\n        Laa Lhunys or the beginning of harvest               312\n        Laa Houney or Hollantide beginning the year          315\n        Sundry prognostications and the time for them        317\n\n\n    CHAPTER V\n\n    The Fenodyree and his Friends                            323\n\n        Lincolnshire parallels                               323\n        The brownie of Blednoch and Bwca'r Trwyn             325\n        Prognostication parallels from Lincolnshire and\n            Herefordshire                                    327\n        The traffic in wind and the Gallizen\u00e6                330\n        Wells with rags and pins                             332\n        St. Catherine's hen plucked at Colby                 335\n        The qualtagh or the first-foot and the question\n            of race                                          336\n        Sundry instances of things unlucky                   342\n        Manx reserve and the belief in the Enemy of Souls    346\n        The witch of Endor's influence and the\n            respectability of the charmer's vocation         349\n        Public penance enforced pretty recently              350\n\n\n    CHAPTER VI\n\n    The Folklore of the Wells                                354\n\n        Rag wells in Wales                                   354\n        The question of distinguishing between offerings\n            and vehicles of disease                          358\n        Mr. Hartland's decision                              359\n        The author's view revised and illustrated            360\n        T. E. Morris' account of the pin well of Llanfaglan  362\n        Other wishing and divining wells                     364\n        The sacred fish of Llanberis and Llangybi            366\n        Ffynnon Grassi producing the Glasfryn lake           367\n        The Morgan of that lake and his name                 372\n        Ffynnon Gywer producing Bala Lake                    376\n        Bala and other towns doomed to submersion            377\n        The legend of Llyn Llech Owen                        379\n        The parallels of Lough Neagh and Lough Ree           381\n        Seithennin's realm overwhelmed by the sea            382\n        Seithennin's name and its congeners                  385\n        Prof. Dawkins on the Lost Lands of Wales             388\n        Certain Irish wells not visited with impunity        389\n        The Lough Sheelin legend compared with that of\n            Seithennin                                       393\n        The priesthood of the wells of St. Elian and\n            St. Teilo                                        395\n\n\n    CHAPTER VII\n\n    Triumphs of the Water-world                              401\n\n        The sea encroaching on the coast of Glamorgan        402\n        The Kenfig tale of crime and vengeance               403\n        The Crymlyn story and its touch of fascination       404\n        Nennius' description of Oper Linn Liguan compared    406\n        The vengeance legend of Bala Lake                    408\n        Legends about the Llynclys Pool                      410\n        The fate of Tyno Helig                               414\n        The belief in cities submerged intact                415\n        The phantom city and the bells of Aberdovey          418\n        The ethics of the foregoing legends discussed        419\n        The limits of the delay of punishment                420\n        Why the fairies delay their vengeance                423\n        Non-ethical legends of the eruption of water         425\n        Cutting the green sward a probable violation of\n            ancient tabu avenged by water divinities         427\n        The lake afanc's r\u00f4le in this connexion              428\n        The pigmies of the water-world                       432\n        The Conwy afanc and the Highland water-horse         433\n        The equine features of March and Labraid Lore        435\n        Mider and the Mac \u00d3c's well horses                   436\n        The Gilla Decair's horse and Du March Moro           437\n        March ab Meirchion associated with Mona              439\n        The Welsh deluge Triads                              440\n        Names of the Dee and other rivers in North Wales     441\n        The Lydney god Nudons, Nuada, and Llud               445\n        The fairies associated in various ways with water    449\n        The cyhiraeth and the Welsh banshee                  452\n        Ancestress rather than ancestor                      454\n\n\n    CHAPTER VIII\n\n    Welsh Cave Legends                                       456\n\n        The question of classification                       456\n        The fairy cave of the Arennig Fawr                   456\n        The cave of Mynyd y Cnwc                             457\n        Waring's version of Iolo's legend of Craig y Dinas   458\n        Craigfryn Hughes' Monmouthshire tale                 462\n        The story of the cave occupied by Owen Lawgoch       464\n        How London Bridge came to figure in that story       466\n        Owen Lawgoch in Ogo'r Dinas                          467\n        Dinas Emrys with the treasure hidden by Merlin       469\n        Snowdonian treasure reserved for the Goidel          470\n        Arthur's death on the side of Snowdon                473\n        The graves of Arthur and Rhita                       474\n        Elis o'r Nant's story of Llanciau Eryri's cave       476\n        The top of Snowdon named after Rhita                 477\n        Drystan's cairn                                      480\n        The hairy man's cave                                 481\n        Returning heroes for comparison with Arthur and\n        Owen Lawgoch                                         481\n        The baledwyr's Owen to return as Henry the Ninth     484\n        Owen a historical man = Froissart's Yvain de Gales   487\n        Froissart's account of him and the questions it\n            raises                                           488\n        Owen ousting Arthur as a cave-dweller                493\n        Arthur previously supplanting a divinity of the\n            class of the sleeping Cronus of Demetrius        493\n        Arthur's original sojourn located in Faery           495\n\n\n    CHAPTER IX\n\n    Place-name Stories                                       498\n\n        The Triad of the Swineherds of the Isle of Prydain   499\n        The former importance of swine's flesh as food       501\n        The Triad clause about Coll's straying sow           503\n        Coll's wanderings arranged to explain place-names    508\n        The Kulhwch account of Arthur's hunt of Twrch Trwyth\n            in Ireland                                       509\n        A parley with the boars                              511\n        The hunt resumed in Pembrokeshire                    512\n        The boars reaching the Loughor Valley                514\n        Their separation                                     515\n        One killed by the Men of Llydaw in Ystrad Yw         516\n        Ystrad Yw defined and its name explained             516\n        Twrch Trwyth escaping to Cornwall after an\n            encounter in the estuary of the Severn           519\n        The comb, razor, and shears of Twrch Trwyth          519\n        The name Twrch Trwyth                                521\n        Some of the names evidence of Goidelic speech        523\n        The story about Gwydion and his swine compared       525\n        Place-name explanations blurred or effaced           526\n        Enumeration of Arthur's losses in the hunt           529\n        The Men of Llydaw's identity and their Syfadon home  531\n        Further traces of Goidelic names                     536\n        A Twrch Trwyth incident mentioned by Nennius         537\n        The place-name Carn Cabal discussed                  538\n        Duplicate names with the Goidelic form preferred\n            in Wales                                         541\n        The same phenomenon in the Mabinogion                543\n        The relation between the families of Llyr, D\u00f4n,\n            and Pwyll                                        548\n        The elemental associations of Llyr and Lir           549\n        Matthew Arnold's idea of Medieval Welsh story        551\n        Br\u00e2n, the Tricephal, and the Letto-Slavic Triglaus   552\n        Summary remarks as to the Goidels in Wales           553\n\n\n    CHAPTER X\n\n    Difficulties of the Folklorist                           556\n\n        The terrors of superstition and magic                557\n        The folklorist's activity no fostering of\n            superstition                                     558\n        Folklore a portion of history                        558\n        The difficulty of separating story and history       559\n        Arthur and the Snowdon Goidels as an illustration    559\n        Rhita Gawr and the mad kings Nynio and Peibio        560\n        Malory's version and the name Rhita, Ritho, Ryons    562\n        Snowdon stories about Owen Ymhacsen and Cai          564\n        Goidelic topography in Gwyned                        566\n        The Goidels becoming Compatriots or Kymry            569\n        The obscurity of certain superstitions a difficulty  571\n        Difficulties arising from their apparent absurdity\n            illustrated by the March and Labraid stories     571\n        Difficulties from careless record illustrated by\n            Howells' Ychen Bannog                            575\n        Possible survival of traditions about the urus       579\n        A brief review of the lake legends and the iron\n            tabu                                             581\n        The scrappiness of the Welsh Tom Tit Tot stories     583\n        The story of the widow of Kittlerumpit compared      585\n        Items to explain the names S\u00ecli Ffrit and S\u00ecli\n            go Dwt                                           590\n        Bwca'r Trwyn both brownie and bogie in one           593\n        That bwca a fairy in service, like the Pennant\n            nurse                                            597\n        The question of fairies concealing their names       597\n        Magic identifying the name with the person           598\n        Modryb Mari regarding cheese-baking as disastrous\n            to the flock                                     599\n        Her story about the reaper's little black soul       601\n        Gwenogvryn Evans' lizard version                     603\n        Diseases regarded as also material entities          604\n        The difficulty of realizing primitive modes\n            of thought                                       605\n\n\n    CHAPTER XI\n\n    Folklore Philosophy                                      607\n\n        The soul as a pigmy or a lizard, and the word enaid  607\n        A different notion in the Mabinogi of Math           608\n        The belief in the persistence of the body through\n            changes                                          610\n        Shape-shifting and rebirth in Gwion's\n            transformations                                  612\n        Tuan mac Cairill, Amairgen, and Taliessin            615\n        D'Arbois de Jubainville's view of Erigena's\n            teaching                                         617\n        The druid master of his own transformations          620\n        Death not a matter of course so much as of magic     620\n        This incipient philosophy as Gaulish druidism        622\n        The Gauls not all of one and the same beliefs        623\n        The name and the man                                 624\n        Enw, 'name,' and the idea of breathing               625\n        The exact nature of the association still obscure    627\n        The Celts not distinguishing between names and\n            things                                           628\n        A Celt's name on him, not by him or with him         629\n        The druid's method of name-giving non-Aryan          631\n        Magic requiring metrical formul\u00e6                     632\n        The professional man's curse producing blisters      632\n        A natural phenomenon arguing a thin-skinned race     633\n        Cursing of no avail without the victim's name        635\n        Magic and kingship linked in the female line         636\n\n\n    CHAPTER XII\n\n    Race in Folklore and Myth                                639\n\n        Glottology and comparative mythology                 640\n        The question of the feminine in Welsh syntax         642\n        The Irish goddess Danu and the Welsh D\u00f4n             644\n        Tynghed or destiny in the Kulhwch story              646\n        Traces of a Welsh confarreatio in the same context   649\n        \u00deokk in the Balder story compared with tynghed       650\n        Questions of mythology all the harder owing to\n            race mixture                                     652\n        Whether the picture of C\u00fachulainn in a rage be\n            Aryan or not                                     653\n        C\u00fachulainn exempt from the Ultonian couvade          654\n        C\u00fachulainn racially a Celt in a society reckoning\n        descent by birth                                     656\n        C\u00fachulainn as a rebirth of Lug paralleled in\n            Lapland                                          657\n        Doubtful origin of certain legends about Lug         658\n        The historical element in fairy stories and lake\n            legends                                          659\n        The notion of the fairies being all women            661\n        An illustration from Central Australia               662\n        Fairy counting by fives evidence of a non-Celtic\n            race                                             663\n        The Basque numerals as an illustration               665\n        Prof. Sayce on Irishmen and Berbers                  665\n        Dark-complexioned people and fairy changelings       666\n        The blond fairies of the Pennant district\n            exceptional                                      668\n        A summary of fairy life from previous chapters       668\n        Sir John Wynne's instance of men taken for fairies   670\n        Some of the Brythonic names for fairies              671\n        Dwarfs attached to the fortunes of their masters     672\n        The question of fairy cannibalism                    673\n        The fairy Corannians and the historical Coritani     674\n        St. Guthlac at Croyland in the Fens                  676\n        The Irish sid, side, and the Welsh Caer Sidi         677\n        The mound dwellings of Pechts and Irish fairies      679\n        Prof. J. Morris Jones explaining the non-Aryan\n            syntax of neo-Celtic by means of Egyptian and\n            Berber                                           681\n        The Picts probably the race that introduced it       682\n        The first pre-Celtic people here                     683\n        Probably of the same race as the neolithic dwarfs\n            of the Continent                                 683\n        The other pre-Celtic race, the Picts and the people\n            of the Mabinogion                                684\n        A word or two by way of epilogue                     686\n\n    Additions and Corrections                                689\n\n    Index                                                    695\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nWe are too hasty when we set down our ancestors in the gross for\nfools, for the monstrous inconsistencies (as they seem to us)\ninvolved in their creed of witchcraft. In the relations of this\nvisible world we find them to have been as rational, and shrewd\nto detect an historic anomaly, as ourselves. But when once the\ninvisible world was supposed to be opened, and the lawless agency\nof bad spirits assumed, what measures of probability, of decency, of\nfitness, or proportion--of that which distinguishes the likely from\nthe palpable absurd--could they have to guide them in the rejection\nor admission of any particular testimony? That maidens pined away,\nwasting inwardly as their waxen images consumed before a fire--that\ncorn was lodged, and cattle lamed--that whirlwinds uptore in diabolic\nrevelry the oaks of the forest--or that spits and kettles only danced\na fearful-innocent vagary about some rustic's kitchen when no wind\nwas stirring--were all equally probable where no law of agency was\nunderstood.... There is no law to judge of the lawless, or canon by\nwhich a dream may be criticised.\n\n                                          Charles Lamb's Essays of Elia.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nA GEOGRAPHICAL LIST OF AUTHORITIES AND SOURCES OF THE MORE IMPORTANT\nCONTRIBUTIONS TO THE WELSH FOLKLORE\n\n\nANGLESEY.\n\nAberffraw: E. S. Roberts (after Hugh Francis), 240, 241.\n\nLlandyfrydog: E. S. Roberts (after Robert Roberts), 239, 240.\n\nLlyn yr Wyth Eidion: (no particulars), 429.\n\nMynyd y Cnwc: A writer in the Brython for 1859, 457, 458.\n\nMynyd Mechell: Morris Evans (from his grandmother), 203, 204.\n\nTowyn Trewern: John Roberts, 36-8.\n\n    ?    : Lewis Morris, in the Gwyliedyd, 450-2.\n\n\n\nBRECKNOCKSHIRE.\n\nCwm Tawe: Rd. L. Davies, 256, 257.\n\n   ,,   : Rd. L. Davies (after J. Davies), 251-6.\n\nLlangorse: Giraldus, in his Itinerarium Kambri\u00e6, 72.\n\n    ?    : Walter Mapes, in his book De Nugis, 70-2.\n\n    ?    : The Brython for 1863, 73, 74.\n\nLlyn Cwm Llwch neighbourhood: Ivor James, 21, 430, 445.\n\n    ?    : Ed. Davies, in his Mythology and Rites, 20, 21.\n\n\n\nCARDIGANSHIRE.\n\nAtpar: John Rhys (from Joseph Powell), 648, 649.\n\nBronnant: D. Ll. Davies, 248, 249.\n\nCadabowen: J. Gwenogvryn Evans, 603, 604.\n\nLlanwenog: J.\u00a0Gwenogvryn Evans, 648.\n\nLlyn Eidwen: J. E. Rogers of Abermeurig, 578.\n\nMoedin: Howells, in his Cambrian Superstitions, 245.\n\n  ,,  : D. Silvan Evans, in his Yst\u00ean Sioned, 271-3.\n\nPonterwyd: John Rhys, 294, 338, 378, 391, 392.\n\n    ,,   : Mary Lewis (Modryb Mari), 601, 602.\n\nSwyd Ffynnon: D. Ll. Davies, 246, 247, 250.\n\nTregaron and neighbourhood: John Rhys (from John Jones and others),\n577-9.\n\nTroed yr Aur  } : Benjamin Williams (Gwynionyd), 166-8.\n      and     } : Gwynionyd, in the Brython for 1858 and 1860,\n    Verwig?   }     151-5, 158-60, 163, 164, 464-6.\n\nYstrad Meurig: Isaac Davies, 245.\n\n  ,,     ,,  : A farmer, 601.\n\n      ?      : A writer in the Brython for 1861, 690.\n\n\n\nCARMARTHENSHIRE.\n\nCenarth: B. Davies, in the Brython, 1858, 161, 162.\n\nLlandeilo: D. Lleufer Thomas, in Y Geninen for 1896, 469.\n\n    ,,   : Mr. Stepney-Gulston, in the Arch. Camb. for 1893, 468.\n\nLlandybie: John Fisher, 379, 380.\n\n    ,,   : Howells, in his Cambrian Superstitions, 381.\n\n    ,,   : John Fisher and J. P. Owen, 468.\n\nMydfai: Wm. Rees of Tonn, in the Physicians of Mydvai, 2-15.\n\n    ,,   : The Bishop of St. Asaph, 15, 16.\n\n    ,,   : John Rhys, 16.\n\n    ?    : Joseph Joseph of Brecon, 16.\n\n    ?    : Wirt Sikes, in his British Goblins, 17, 18.\n\nMynyd y Banwen: Llywarch Reynolds, 18, 19, 428-30.\n\n       ?      : I. Craigfryn Hughes, 487.\n\n\n\nCARNARVONSHIRE.\n\nAber Soch: Margaret Edwards, 231.\n\n    ,,   : A blacksmith in the neighbourhood, 232.\n\n    ?    : Edward Llwyd: see the Brython for 1860, 233, 234.\n\n    ?    : MS. 134 in the Peniarth Collection, 572, 573.\n\nAberdaron: Mrs. Williams and another, 228.\n\n    ?    : Evan Williams of Rhos Hirwaen, 230.\n\nBedgelert: Wm. Jones, 49, 80, 81, 94-7, 99, 100-5.\n\n    ,,   :      ,,     in the Brython for 1861-2, 86-9, 98-9.\n\n    ,,   : The Brython for 1861, 470, 473, 474.\n\nBethesda: David Evan Davies (Dewi Glan Ffrydlas), 60-4, 66.\n\nBettws y Coed: Edward Llwyd: see the Cambrian Journal for 1859, 130-3.\n\nCriccieth neighbourhood: Edward Llewelyn, 219-21.\n\n    ?    : Edward Llwyd: see the Camb. Journal for 1859, 201, 202.\n\nDinorwig: E. Lloyd Jones, 234-7.\n\nDolbenmaen: W. Evans Jones, 107-9.\n\nDolwydelan: see Bedgelert.\n\n    ,,    : see Gwybrnant.\n\nDrws y Coed: S. R. Williams (from M. Williams and another), 38-40.\n\n     ?     :       ,,       89, 90.\n\nEdern: John Williams (Alaw Lleyn), 275-9.\n\nFour Crosses: Lewis Jones, 222-5.\n\nGlasfryn Uchaf: John Jones (Myrdin Fard), 367, 368.\n\n    ,,    ,,  : Mr. and Mrs. Williams-Ellis, 368-72.\n\nGlynllifon: Wm. Thomas Solomon, 208-14.\n\nGwybrnant: Ellis Pierce (Elis o'r Nant), 476-9.\n\nLlanaelhaearn: R. Hughes of Uwchlaw'r Ffynnon, 214, 215, 217-9.\n\nLlanberis: Mrs. Rhys and her relatives, 31-6, 604.\n\n    ,,   : M. and O. Rhys, 229.\n\n    ,,   : A correspondent in the Liverpool Mercury, 366, 367.\n\n    ?    : Howell Thomas (from G. B. Gattie), 125-30.\n\n    ?    : Pennant, in his Tours in Wales, 125.\n\nLlandegai: H. Derfel Hughes, 52-60, 68.\n\n    ,,   :     ,,     ,,     in his Antiquities, 471, 472.\n\n    ,,   : E. Owen, in the Powysland Club's Collections, 237, 238.\n\nLlandwrog: Hugh Evans and others, 207.\n\nLlanfaglan: T. E. Morris (from Mrs. Roberts), 362, 363.\n\nLlangybi: John Jones (Myrdin Fard), 366.\n\n   ,,   : Mrs. Williams-Ellis, 366, 471.\n\nLlaniestin: Evan Williams, 228, 229, 584.\n\nLlanllechid: Owen Davies (Eos Llechid), 41-6, 50-2.\n\nNefyn: Lowri Hughes and another woman, 226, 227.\n\n  ,, : John Williams (Alaw Lleyn), 228.\n\n  ,, : A writer in the Brython for 1860, 164.\n\nPenmachno: Gethin Jones, 204-6.\n\nRhyd Du: Mrs. Rhys, 604.\n\nTrefriw: Morris Hughes and J. D. Maclaren, 198-201.\n\n   ,,  : Pierce Williams, 30.\n\nTremadoc: Jane Williams, 221, 222.\n\n   ,,   : R. I. Jones (from his mother and Ellis Owen), 105-7.\n\n   ,,   : Ellis Owen (cited by Wm. Jones), 95.\n\nWaen Fawr: Owen Davies, 41.\n\n    ?    : Glasynys, in Cymru Fu, 91-3, 110-23.\n\n    ?    :    ,,     in the Brython for 1863, 40, 41.\n\n    ?    : A London Eistedfod (1887) competitor, 361, 362.\n\n    ?    : John Jones (Myrdin Fard), 361, 362, 364-8.\n\n    ?    : Owen Jones (quoted in the Brython for 1861), 414, 415.\n\nYspytty Ifan?: A Liverpool Eistedfod (1900) competitor, 692.\n\n\n\nDENBIGHSHIRE.\n\nBryneglwys: E. S. Roberts (from Mrs. Davies), 241, 242.\n\nEglwyseg: E. S. Roberts (after Thomas Morris), 238.\n\nFfynnon Eilian: Mrs. Silvan Evans, 357.\n\n   ,,     ,,  : Isaac Foulkes, in his Enwogion Cymru, 396.\n\n   ,,     ,,  : Lewis, in his Topographical Dictionary, 395, 396.\n\n   ,,     ,,  : P. Roberts, in his Camb. Popular Antiquities, 396.\n\n   ,,     ,,  : A writer in Y Nofeld, 396.\n\nLlangollen: Hywel (Wm. Davies), 148.\n\nPentre Voelas: Elias Owen, in his Welsh Folk-Lore, 222.\n\n\n\nFLINTSHIRE.\n\nNil.\n\n\n\nGLAMORGANSHIRE.\n\nBridgend: J. H. Davies, D. Brynmor-Jones, J. Rhys, 354, 355.\n\nCrymlyn: Cadrawd, in the South Wales Daily News, 405, 406.\n\n   ?   : Wirt Sikes, in his British Goblins, 191, 192, 405.\n\nKenfig: Iolo Morganwg, in the Iolo MSS., 403, 404.\n\n   ?  : David Davies, 402.\n\nLlanfabon: I. Craigfryn Hughes, 257-268.\n\nLlanwynno: Glanffrwd, in his Plwyf Llanwyno, 26.\n\nMerthyr Tydfil: Llywarch Reynolds (from his mother), 269.\n\nQuakers' Yard: I. Craigfryn Hughes, 173-91.\n\nRhonda Fechan: Llewellyn Williams, 24, 25.\n\n   ,,    ,,  : J. Probert Evans, 25, 27.\n\n   ,,    ,,  : Ll. Reynolds (from D. Evans and others), 27-9.\n\nRhonda Valley: D. J. Jones, 356.\n\n    ?    : Dafyd Morganwg, in his Hanes Morganwg, 356.\n\n    ?    : Waring, in his Recollections of Edward Williams, 458-61.\n\n\n\nMERIONETHSHIRE.\n\nAberdovey: J. Pughe, in the Arch. Camb. for 1853, 142-6, 428.\n\n    ,,   : Mrs. Prosser Powell, 416.\n\n    ?    : M. B., in the Monthly Packet for 1859, 416, 417.\n\nArdudwy: Hywel (Wm. Davies), 147, 148.\n\nBala: David Jones of Trefriw: see Cyfaill yr Aelwyd, 376, 377.\n\n ,, : Wm. Davies and Owen M. Edwards, 378.\n\n  ? : Humphreys' Llyfr Gwybodaeth Gyffredinol, 408-10.\n\n  ? : J. H. Roberts, in Edwards' Cymru for 1897, 148-51.\n\nDolgelley: Lucy Griffith (from a Dolgelley man), 243, 244.\n\nLlandrillo: E. S. Roberts (from A. Evans and Mrs. Edwards), 138-41.\n\nLlanegryn: Mr. Williams and Mr. Rowlands, 243.\n\n    ,,   : A Llanegryn man (after Wm. Pritchard), 242.\n\n    ,,   : Another Llanegryn man, 242, 243.\n\nLlanuwchllyn: Owen M. Edwards, 147.\n\n     ?      : J. H. Roberts, in Edwards' Cymru for 1897, 215-7, 457.\n\n     ?      : Glasynys, in the Brython for 1862, 137.\n\n     ?      :     ,,    in the Taliesin for 1859-60, 215, 216, 456, 457.\n\n\n\nMONMOUTHSHIRE.\n\nAberystruth: Edm. Jones, in his Parish of Aberystruth, 195, 196.\n\nLlandeilo Cressenny: Elizabeth Williams, 192, 193.\n\nLlanover: Wm. Williams and other gardeners there, 193, 194.\n\n   ,,   : Mrs. Gardner of Ty Uchaf Llanover, 194, 195.\n\n   ,,   : Professor Sayce, 602.\n\nRisca?: I. Craigfryn Hughes (from hearsay in the district between\nLlanfabon and Caerleon), 462-4, 487, 593-6.\n\n\n\nMONTGOMERYSHIRE.\n\nLlanidloes: Elias Owen, in his Welsh Folk-Lore, 275.\n\n\n\nPEMBROKESHIRE.\n\nFishguard: E. Perkins of Penysgwarne, 172, 173.\n\n    ,,   : Ferrar Fenton, in the Pembroke County Guardian, 160.\n\nLlandeilo Llwydarth: The Melchior family, 398.\n\n    ,,        ,,   : Benjamin Gibby, 399, 400.\n\nNevern: J. Thomas of Bancau Bryn Berian, 689.\n\nTrevine: 'Ancient Mariner,' in the Pembroke County Guardian, 171.\n\n   ?   : Ferrar Fenton, in the Pembroke County Guardian, 171.\n\n   ?   : Ab Nadol, in the Brython for 1861, 165.\n\n   ?   : Southey, in his Madoc, 170.\n\n\n\nRADNORSHIRE.\n\nNil.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTO ALL SORTS AND CONDITIONS OF MEN\n\n\nThe author would be glad to hear of unrecorded Welsh stories, or\nbits of Welsh stories not comprised in this volume. He would also be\ngrateful for the names of more localities in which the stories here\ngiven, or variants of them, are still remembered. It will be his\nendeavour to place on record all such further information, except\nstories about spooks and ghosts of the ordinary type.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nLIST OF BIBLIOGRAPHICAL REFERENCES\n\n\nAb Gwilym: Bardoniaeth Dafyd ab Gwilym, edited by Cyndelw (Liverpool,\n1873), 206, 233, 439, 444, 671.\n\nAdamnan: The Life of St. Columba, written by Adamnan, edited by\nWilliam Reeves (Dublin, 1857), 545.\n\nAgrippa: H. Cornelius Agrippa De Occulta Philosophia (Paris, 1567),\n213.\n\nAneurin: The Book of Aneurin (see Skene), 226, 281, 543.\n\nAntiquary, the, a magazine devoted to the study of the past, published\nby Elliot Stock (London, 1880-), 467.\n\n    ,,    : the Scottish: see Stevenson.\n\nArch\u00e6ologia Cambrensis, the Journal of the Cambrian Arch\u00e6ological\nAssociation (London, 1846-), 73, 141-6, 233, 366, 403, 468, 528, 532,\n533, 542, 566, 570, 579.\n\nAthen\u00e6um, the, a journal of English and foreign literature, science,\nfine arts, music, and the drama (London, 1828-), 335, 612.\n\nAtkinson: The Book of Ballymote, a collection of pieces (prose\nand verse) in the Irish language, compiled about the beginning of\nthe fifteenth century, published by the Royal Irish Academy, with\nintroduction, analysis of contents, and index by Robert Atkinson\n(Dublin, 1887), 375.\n\n   ,,   : The Book of Leinster, sometimes called the Book of Glendalough,\na collection of pieces (prose and verse) in the Irish language,\ncompiled, in part, about the middle of the twelfth century, published\nby the Royal Irish Academy, with introduction, analysis of contents,\nand index by Robert Atkinson (Dublin, 1880), 381, 390, 392, 528,\n531, 616, 618, 635, 657.\n\nAubrey: Miscellanies collected by John Aubrey (London, 1696) [the\nlast chapter is on second-sighted persons in Scotland], 273.\n\n\n\nBastian: Zeitschrift f\u00fcr Ethnologie, edited by A. Bastian and others\n(Berlin, 1869-), 684.\n\nBathurst: Roman Antiquities at Lydney Park: see 445, 446.\n\nBehrens: Zeitschrift f\u00fcr franz\u00f6sische Sprache und Litteratur, edited\nby D. Behrens (Oppeln and Leipsic, 1879-), 480.\n\nBell: Early Ballads, edited by Robert Bell (London, 1877), 317.\n\nBertrand: La Religion des Gaulois, les Druides et le Druidisme,\nby Alexandre Bertrand (Paris, 1897), 552, 622, 623.\n\nBible: The Holy Bible, revised version (Oxford, 1885), 583.\n\n  ,, : The Manx Bible, printed for the British and Foreign Bible\nSociety (London, 1819), 288, 297, 348.\n\nBoschet: La Vie du P\u00e8re Maunoir, by Boschet (Paris, 1697), 386.\n\nBourke: The Bull 'Ineffabilis' in four Languages, translated and\nedited by the Rev. Ulick J. Bourke (Dublin, 1868), 606.\n\nBoyd Dawkins: Professor Boyd Dawkins' Address on the Place of a\nUniversity in the History of Wales (Bangor, 1900), 388, 389.\n\nBray: The Borders of the Tamar and the Tavy, their Natural History,\nManners, Customs, Superstitions, &c., in a series of letters to the\nlate Robert Southey, by Mrs. Bray (new ed., London, 1879), 213.\n\nBraz: La L\u00e9gende de la Mort en Basse-Bretagne, Croyances, Traditions\net Usages des Bretons Armoricains, by A. le Braz (Paris, 1892), 273.\n\nBritish Arch\u00e6ological Association, the Journal of the: see 674.\n\nBritish Association for the Advancement of Science, Report of the\n(John Murray, London, 1833-), 103, 310, 346, 590.\n\nBrynmor-Jones: The Welsh People, by John Rhys and David Brynmor-Jones\n(London, 1900), 421, 448, 454, 488, 548, 554, 613, 656, 661.\n\nBrython, Y: see Silvan Evans.\n\n\n\nCambrian: The Cambrian Biography: see Owen.\n\n   ,,   : The Cambrian Journal, published under the auspices of the\nCambrian Institute [the first volume appeared in 1854 in London,\nand eventually the publication was continued at Tenby by R. Mason,\nwho went on with it till the year 1864], 81, 130, 201, 202, 480, 564.\n\n   ,,   : The Cambrian newspaper, published at Swansea, 468.\n\n   ,,   : The Cambrian Popular Antiquities: see Roberts.\n\n   ,,   : The Cambrian Quarterly Magazine (London, 1829-33), 202.\n\n   ,,   : The Cambrian Register, printed for E. and T. Williams\n(London, 1796-1818), 217.\n\nCampbell: Popular Tales of the West Highlands, with a translation,\nby J. F. Campbell (Edinburgh, 1860-2), 433, 434, 690.\n\nCaradoc: The Gwentian Chronicle of Caradoc of Llancarvan, 404.\n\n   ,,  : The History of Wales written originally in British by Caradoc\nof Lhancarvan, Englished by Dr. Powell and augmented by W. Wynne\n(London, 1774), 476, 480.\n\nCarmarthen: The Black Book of Carmarthen (see Skene), 543.\n\nCarnarvon: Registrum vulgariter nuncupatum 'The Record of Carnarvon,'\n\u00e8 Codice msto Descriptum (London, 1838), 70, 201, 488, 567-9, 693.\n\nCarrington: Report of the Royal Commission on Land in Wales and\nMonmouthshire, Chairman, the Earl of Carrington (London, 1896), 488.\n\nChambers: Popular Rhymes of Scotland, by Robert Chambers (Edinburgh,\n1841, 1858), 585.\n\nCharencey, H. de, in the Bulletin de la Soci\u00e9t\u00e9 de Linguistique de\nParis, 664.\n\nChaucer: The Complete Works of Geoffrey Chaucer, edited from numerous\nmanuscripts by the Rev. Prof. Skeat (Oxford, 1894), 75.\n\nChr\u00e9tien: Erec und Enide von Christian von Troyes, published by\nWendelin Foerster (Halle, 1890), 375, 672.\n\nCicero: OEuvres Compl\u00e8tes de Cic\u00e9ron (the Didot ed., Paris, 1875), 652.\n\nClark: Limbus Patrum Morgani\u00e6 et Glamorgani\u00e6, being the genealogies\nof the older families of the lordships of Morgan and Glamorgan,\nby George T. Clark (London, 1886), 26.\n\nClodd: Tom Tit Tot, an essay on savage philosophy in folklore, by\nEdward Clodd (London, 1898), 584, 598, 607, 627, 628, 630.\n\nCochrane: The Journal of the Royal Society of Antiquaries of Ireland,\nRobert Cochrane, Secretary (Hodges, Figgis & Co., Dublin), 546.\n\nCockayne: Leechdoms, Wortcunning and Starcraft of early England,\nby the Rev. Oswald Cockayne (Rolls Series, London, 1864-6), 293.\n\nCormac: Cormac's Glossary, translated and annotated by John O'Donovan,\nedited with notes and indices by Whitley Stokes (Calcutta, 1868),\n51, 310, 521, 629, 632.\n\nCorneille: Le Cid, by P. Corneille, edited by J. Bu\u00e9 (London,\n1889), 655.\n\nCosquin: Contes populaires de Lorraine, by Emmanuel Cosquin (Paris,\n1886), 520.\n\nCothi: The Poetical Works of Lewis Glyn Cothi, a Welsh bard who\nflourished in the reigns of Henry VI, Edward IV, Richard III, and\nHenry VII, edited for the Cymmrodorion Society by the Rev. John Jones\n'Tegid,' and the Rev. Walter Davies 'Gwallter Mechain' (Oxford, 1837),\n74, 134, 135, 201.\n\nCoulanges: La Cit\u00e9 antique, by N. D. Fustel de Coulanges (Paris,\n1864), 649, 650.\n\nCourson: Cartulaire de l'Abbaye de Redon en Bretagne, published by\nM. Aur\u00e9lien de Courson (Paris, 1863), 544.\n\nCraigfryn: Y Ferch o Gefn Ydfa, by Isaac Craigfryn Hughes (Cardiff,\n1881), 173.\n\nCregeen: A Dictionary of the Manks Language, by Archibald Cregeen\n(Douglas, 1835), 288.\n\nCumming: The Isle of Man, its History, Physical, Ecclesiastical,\nCivil, and Legendary, by Joseph George Cumming (London, 1848), 314.\n\nCurry: The Battle of Magh Leana, together with The Courtship of Momera,\nwith translation and notes, by Eugene Curry [later O'Curry] (Dublin,\n1855), 393: see also O'Curry.\n\nCyndelw: Cymru Fu, a selection of Welsh histories, traditions, and\ntales, published by Hughes & Son (Wrexham, 1862) [this was originally\nissued in parts, and it has never borne the editor's name; but it is\nunderstood to have been the late poet and antiquary, the Rev. Robert\nEllis 'Cyndelw'], 66, 91, 109, 123, 155, 156, 481.\n\n\n\nDalyell: The Darker Superstitions of Scotland illustrated from History\nand Practice, by John Graham Dalyell (Edinburgh, 1834), 273.\n\nDavies: The Mythology and Rites of the British Druids, by Edward Davies\n(London, 1809), 20.\n\nDavies: Antiqu\u00e6 Lingu\u00e6 Britannic\u00e6 et Lingu\u00e6 Latin\u00e6 Dictionarium Duplex,\nby Dr. John Davies (London, 1632), 13.\n\nDerfel Hughes: Hynafiaethau Llandegai a Llanllechid (Antiquities of\nLlandegai and Llanllechid), by Hugh Derfel Hughes (Bethesda, 1866),\n52, 480.\n\nDionysius: Dionysii Halicarnassensis Antiquitatum Romanorum qu\u00e6\nsupersunt (the Didot edition, Paris, 1886), 650.\n\nDomesday: Facsimile of Domesday Book, the Cheshire volume, including\na part of Flintshire and Leicestershire (Southampton, 1861-5), 563.\n\nDovaston: [John F. M. Dovaston's poetical works appear to have been\npublished in 1825, but I have not seen the book], 410-3.\n\nDoyle: Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, by A. Conan Doyle (London,\n1893), 690.\n\nDrayton: The Battaile of Agincourt, by Michaell Drayton (London,\n1627), 164.\n\nDugdale: Monasticon Anglicanum, a history of the abbeys and other\nmonasteries in England and Wales, by Sir William Dugdale (vol. v,\nLondon, 1825), 443, 469, 479.\n\n\n\nEdwards: Cymru, a monthly magazine edited by Owen M. Edwards (Welsh\nNational Press, Carnarvon), 148.\n\nElfed: Cyfaill yr Aelwyd a'r Frythones, edited by Elfed (the\nRev. H. Elvet Lewis) and Cadrawd (Mr. T. C. Evans), and published by\nWilliams & Son, Llanelly, 23, 376, 418.\n\nElton: Origins of English History, by Charles Elton (London, 1882),\n615.\n\nElworthy: The Evil Eye, an Account of this ancient and widespread\nSuperstition, by Frederick Thomas Elworthy (London, 1895), 346.\n\nEvans: The Beauties of England and Wales [published in London in\n1801-15, and comprising two volumes (xvii and xviii) devoted to Wales,\nthe former of which (by the Rev. J. Evans; published in London in 1812)\ntreats of North Wales], 563.\n\n\n\nFolk-Lore: Transactions of the Folk-Lore Society (published by David\nNutt, 270 Strand, London), 273, 338, 341, 344, 346, 356, 358-60, 584,\n585, 593, 608.\n\nFoulkes: Geirlyfr Bywgraffiadol o Enwogion Cymru, published and\nprinted by Isaac Foulkes (Liverpool, 1870), 396.\n\nFouqu\u00e9: Undine, eine Erz\u00e4hlung von Friedrich Baron de la Motte Fouqu\u00e9\n(11th ed., Berlin, 1859), 1, 2, 27, 437, 661.\n\nFrazer: The Golden Bough, a study in comparative religion, by\nDr. J. G. Frazer (London, 1890), 638, 662.\n\n  ,,  : The Origin of Totemism (in the Fortnightly Review for April,\n1899), 662, 663.\n\nFroissart: OEuvres de Froissart, Chroniques, edited by Kervyn de\nLettenhove (Brussels, 1870-7), 489.\n\n    ,,   : Chroniques de J. Froissart, published for the 'Soci\u00e9t\u00e9 de\nl'Histoire de France,' by Sim\u00e9on Luce (Paris, 1869-), 489-91.\n\n    ,,   : Lord Berners' translation (in black letter), published in\nLondon in 1525, and Thomas Johnes', in 1805-6, 490.\n\n\n\nGaidoz: Revue Celtique, 'fond\u00e9e par M. Henri Gaidoz,' 1870-85 [since\nthen it has been edited by H. d'Arbois de Jubainville, and it is now\npublished by Bouillon in Paris (67 Rue de Richelieu)], 60, 374, 375,\n387, 389, 390, 427, 432, 435, 480, 519, 546, 573, 580, 581, 603, 618,\n619, 629, 631, 649.\n\nGeoffrey: Gottfried's von Monmouth Historia Regum Britanni\u00e6 und Brut\nTysylio, published by San-Marte (Halle, 1854), 4, 280, 281, 374, 406,\n448, 503, 507, 547, 562, 611.\n\nGilbert: Leabhar na h-Uidhri, a collection of pieces in prose and\nverse in the Irish language, compiled and transcribed about A.D. 1100\nby Moelmuiri mac Ceileachar, published by the Royal Irish Academy,\nand printed from a lithograph of the original by O'Longan & O'Looney\n(preface signed by J. T. Gilbert, Dublin, 1870), 381, 387, 414, 424,\n435, 498, 537, 547, 611, 613, 618, 620, 624, 654, 657, 661.\n\nGillen: The Native Tribes of Central Australia, by Baldwin Spencer\nand F. J. Gillen (London, 1899), 662, 663.\n\nGiraldus: Giraldi Cambrensis Itinerarium Kambri\u00e6 et Descriptio\nKambri\u00e6, edited by James F. Dimock (Rolls Series, London, 1868), 72,\n90, 269-71, 303, 389, 414, 441, 507, 509, 660.\n\nGlanffrwd: Plwyf Llanwyno: yr hen Amser, yr hen Bobl, a'r hen Droion,\nby Glanffrwd [the Rev. W. Glanffrwd Thomas] (Pontyprid, 1888), 26.\n\nGottingen: G\u00f6ttingische gelehrte Anzeigen, unter der Aufsicht der\nk\u00f6nigl. Gesellschaft der Wissenschaften (Gottingen, 1890), 544.\n\nGregor: Notes on the Folk-lore of the North-east of Scotland, by\nthe Rev. Walter Gregor, published for the Folk-Lore Society (London,\n1881), 103.\n\nGriffin: The Poetical and Dramatic Works of Gerald Griffin (Dublin,\n1857), 205, 418.\n\nGr\u00f6ber: Grundriss der romanischen Philologie, unter Mitwirkung von\n25 Fachgenossen, edited by Gustav Gr\u00f6ber (Strassburg, 1886), 563.\n\n  ,, : Zeitschrift f\u00fcr romanische Philologie, edited by Gustav Gr\u00f6ber\n(Halle, 1877-), 563.\n\nGruter: Iani Gruteri Corpus Inscriptionum (part ii of vol. i,\nAmsterdam, 1707), 580.\n\nGuest: The Mabinogion, from the Llyfr Coch o Hergest and other ancient\nWelsh manuscripts, with an English translation and notes by Lady\nCharlotte Guest (London, 1849), 69, 123, 196, 386, 442, 502, 507,\n509, 538, 553, 560, 613, 620, 629, 645-7, 649, 672.\n\nGwenogvryn: Facsimile of the Black Book of Carmarthen, reproduced\nby the autotype mechanical process, with a pal\u00e6ographical note by\nJ. Gwenogvryn Evans (Oxford, 1888), 216, 217, 383, 384, 413, 432,\n478, 513, 527, 543, 545, 563, 565, 619, 621.\n\n    ,,    : Report on Manuscripts in the Welsh Language, published by\nthe Historical MSS. Commission (vol. i, London, 1898-9), 280, 330,\n487, 573.\n\n    ,,    : The Text of the Bruts from the Red Book of Hergest, edited\nby John Rhys and J. Gwenogvryn Evans (Oxford, 1890), 163, 201, 442,\n506, 512, 562.\n\n    ,,    : The Text of the 'Mabinogion' and other Welsh Tales from\nthe Red Book of Hergest, edited by John Rhys and J. Gwenogvryn Evans\n(Oxford, 1887), 69, 142, 196, 207, 208, 217, 218, 225, 226, 233, 264,\n280, 287, 315, 386, 388, 425, 430, 439, 440, 442, 498, 500, 502, 506,\n507, 509-16, 519-27, 529-34, 536, 537, 543, 546-8, 550, 551, 553, 560,\n561, 565, 580, 608-10, 613, 619, 620, 622, 628-30, 636, 637, 644, 645,\n647, 649, 657, 672.\n\n    ,,    : The Text of the Book of Llan D\u00e2v, reproduced from the\nGwysaney manuscript by J. G. Evans, with the co-operation of John Rhys\n(Oxford, 1893) [this is also known as the Liber Landavensis], 163,\n398, 476, 478, 528, 531, 568, 691.\n\n\n\nHancock: Senchus M\u00f3r, vol. i, prefaced by W. Neilson Hancock (Dublin,\n1865), 617.\n\nHardy: Descriptive Catalogue of Materials relating to the History\nof Great Britain and Ireland, by Thos. Duffus Hardy (vol. i, London,\n1862), 476.\n\nHartland: The Legend of Perseus, a study of tradition in story,\ncustom, and belief, by Edwin Sidney Hartland (London, 1894-6), 662.\n\nHartland: The Science of Fairy Tales, an inquiry into fairy mythology,\nby Edwin Sidney Hartland (London, 1891), 18, 268, 583.\n\nHenderson: Fled Bricrend, edited with translation, introduction,\nand notes, by George Henderson (London, 1899), 501.\n\nHenderson: Notes on the Folk-Lore of the Northern Counties of England\nand the Borders, by Wm. Henderson (London, 1879), 340, 346.\n\nHerbord: Herbordi Vita Ottonis Ep. Bambergensis, in vol. xiv of Pertz'\nMonumenta Germani\u00e6 Historica Scriptorum [= Script. vol. xii], edited\nby G. H. Pertz (Hanover, 1826-85), 553.\n\nHergest: The Red Book of Hergest: see Guest, Gwenogvryn, Skene.\n\nHeywood: The Dramatic Works of Thomas Heywood (London, 1874), 694.\n\nHigden: Polychronicon Ranulphi Higden Monachi Cestrensis, together\nwith the English translations of John Trevisa and an unknown writer\nof the fifteenth century, edited by Ch. Babington (Rolls Series,\nLondon, 1865-86), 330, 331.\n\nHolder: Alt-celtischer Sprachschatz, by Alfred Holder (Leipsic,\n1896-), 533, 622, 659.\n\nHowells: Cambrian Superstitions, comprising ghosts, omens, witchcraft,\nand traditions, by W. Howells (Tipton, 1831), 74, 155, 160, 173, 204,\n245, 268, 331, 424, 453, 469, 576-9.\n\nH\u00fcbner: Das Heiligtum des Nodon: see 446.\n\n  ,,  : Inscriptiones Britanni\u00e6 Latin\u00e6, edited by \u00c6milius H\u00fcbner and\npublished by the Berlin Academy (Berlin, 1873), 535.\n\nHumphreys: Golud yr Oes, a Welsh magazine published by H. Humphreys\n(vol. i, Carnarvon, 1863), 493.\n\n    ,,   : Llyfr Gwybodaeth Gyffredinol, a collection of Humphreys'\npenny series (Carnarvon, no date), 408.\n\n\n\nIolo: Iolo Manuscripts, a selection of ancient Welsh manuscripts\nin prose and verse from the collection made by Edward Williams\n(Iolo Morganwg), with English translations and notes by his son,\nTaliesin Williams Ab Iolo, and published for the Welsh MSS. Society\n(Llandovery, 1848), 564, 565, 569, 619.\n\nIolo Goch: Gweithiau Iolo Goch gyda Nodiadau hanesydol a beirniadol,\nby Charles Ashton, published for the Cymmrodorion Society (Oswestry,\n1896), 281, 367.\n\n\n\nJacobs: Celtic Fairy Tales, selected and edited by Joseph Jacobs\n(London, 1892), 567.\n\nJamieson: An Etymological Dictionary of the Scottish Language, by\nJohn Jamieson (new ed., Paisley, 1881-2), 591.\n\nJamieson: Popular Ballads and Songs, by Robert Jamieson (Edinburgh,\n1806), 592.\n\n\n\nJenkins: Bed Gelert, its Facts, Fairies, and Folk-Lore, by\nD. E. Jenkins (Portmadoc, 1899), 450, 453, 469, 533, 567.\n\nJohnstone: Antiquitates Celto-Normannic\u00e6, containing the Chronicle\nof Man and the Isles, abridged by Camden, edited by James Johnstone\n(Copenhagen, 1786), 334.\n\nJones: see p. 195 for Edmund Jones' Account of the Parish of\nAberystruth (Trevecka, 1779), 195, 196.\n\n  ,, : see p. 195 as to his Spirits in the County of Monmouth\n(Newport, 1813), 195, 217, 350.\n\nJones: The Elucidarium and other tracts in Welsh from Llyvyr Agkyr\nLlandewivrevi, A.D. 1346 (Jesus College MS. 119), edited by J. Morris\nJones and John Rhys (Oxford, 1894), 529, 693.\n\nJones: The Myvyrian Archaiology of Wales, collected out of ancient\nmanuscripts, by Owen Jones 'Myvyr,' Edward Williams, and William Owen\n(London, 1801; reprinted in one volume by Thomas Gee, Denbigh, 1870),\n441, 469, 529, 560, 610, 619.\n\nJones: A History of the County of Brecknock, by the Rev. Theophilus\nJones (Brecknock, 1805, 1809), 516-8.\n\nJoyce: Old Celtic Romances, translated from the Gaelic by P. W. Joyce\n(London, 1879), 94, 376, 381, 437, 662.\n\nJubainville: Le Cycle mythologique irlandais et la Mythologie celtique,\nby H. d'Arbois de Jubainville (Paris, 1884), 616, 617, 620.\n\n     ,,    : Essai d'un Catalogue de la Litt\u00e9rature \u00e9pique de\nl'Irlande, by H. d'Arbois de Jubainville (Paris, 1883), 549, 616,\n617, 620.\n\n\n\nKaluza: Libeaus Desconus, edited by Max Kaluza (Leipsic, 1890), 562.\n\nKeating: Forus Feasa air \u00c9irinn, Keating's History of Ireland, book i,\npart i, edited, with a literal translation, by P. W. Joyce (Dublin,\n1880), 375.\n\nKelly: Fockleyr Manninagh as Baarlagh, a Manx-English Dictionary by\nJohn Kelly, edited by William Gill, and printed for the Manx Society\n(Douglas, 1866), 316, 349.\n\nKermode: Yn Lioar Manninagh, the Journal of the Isle of Man Natural\nHistory and Antiquarian Society, edited by P. M. C. Kermode (Douglas,\n1889-), 284, 289, 311, 334, 434.\n\nKuhn: Beitr\u00e4ge zur vergleichenden Sprachforschung auf dem Gebiete der\narischen, celtischen und slawischen Sprachen, edited by Kuhn and others\n(Berlin, 1858-76), 629.\n\n ,, : Zeitschrift f\u00fcr vergleichende Sprachforschung auf dem Gebiete\n der indogermanischen Sprachen, edited by Kuhn and others (Berlin,\n 1854-), 625.\n\n\n\nLampeter: The Magazine of St. David's College, Lampeter, 156.\n\nLeem: Canuti Leemii de Lapponibus Finmarchi\u00e6 Commentatio (Copenhagen,\n1767), 658, 663.\n\nLeger: Cyrille et M\u00e9thode, \u00c9tude historique sur la Conversion des\nSlaves au Christianisme, by Louis Leger (Paris, 1868), 553.\n\nLewis: A Topographical Dictionary of Wales, by Samuel Lewis (3rd ed.,\nLondon, 1844), 395, 397, 470.\n\nLeyden: The Poetical Works of John Leyden (Edinburgh, 1875), 466.\n\nLhuyd: Commentarioli Britannic\u00e6 Descriptionis Fragmentum, by Humfrey\nLhuyd (Cologne, 1572), 412.\n\nLindsay: The Latin Language, an historical account of Latin sounds,\nstems, and flexions, by Wallace Martin Lindsay (Oxford, 1894), 629.\n\nLoth: Les Mots latins dans les langues brittoniques, by J. Loth\n(Paris, 1892), 383.\n\nLlais y Wlad, a newspaper published at Bangor, N. Wales, 234.\n\n\n\nMabinogion: see Guest and Gwenogvryn.\n\nMacbain: The Celtic Magazine, edited by Alexander Macbain (Inverness,\n1866-), 520.\n\nMalmesbury: De Gestis Pontificum Anglorum Libri Quinque, edited by\nN. E. S. A. Hamilton (Rolls Series, London, 1870), 547.\n\nMalory: Le Morte Darthur, by Syr Thomas Malory, the original Caxton\nedition reprinted and edited with an introduction and glossary by\nH. Oskar Sommer (Nutt, London, 1889), 476, 562.\n\n   ,,  : Sir Thomas Malory's Morte Darthur, with a preface by John\nRhys, published by J. M. Dent & Co. (London, 1893), 543, 565.\n\nMapes: Gualteri Mapes de Nugis Curialium Distinctiones Quinque, edited\nby Thomas Wright and printed for the Camden Society, 1850 [at the last\nmoment a glance at the original Bodley MS. 851 forced me to deviate\nsomewhat from Wright's reading owing to its inaccuracy], 70-2, 496.\n\nMarquardt: Das Privatleben der R\u00f6mer, by J. Marquardt (Leipsic,\n1886), 650.\n\nMartin: A Description of the Western Islands of Scotland, by M. Martin\n(London, 1703), 615, 691, 692.\n\nMaspero: see 682.\n\nMaximus: Valerii Maximi factorum dictorumque memorabilium Libri novem\nad Tiberium C\u00e6sarem Augustum (the Didot ed., Paris, 1871), 623.\n\nMela: Pomponii Mel\u00e6 de Chorographia Libri Tres, ed. Gustavus Parthey\n(Berlin, 1867), 331, 550.\n\nMeyer: Festschrift Whitley Stokes, dedicated by Kuno Meyer and others\n(Leipsic, 1900), 645.\n\n  ,,  : The Vision of MacConglinne, edited with a translation by Kuno\nMeyer (London, 1892), 393, 501.\n\nMeyer: Zeitschrift f\u00fcr celtische Philologie, edited by Kuno Meyer\nand L. C. Stern (Halle, 1897-), 500.\n\nMeyer: Romania, Recueil trimestriel consacr\u00e9 \u00e0 l'\u00c9tude des Langues\net des Litt\u00e9ratures romanes, edited by Paul Meyer and Gaston Paris\n(vol. xxviii. Paris, 1899), 690, 693, 694.\n\nMeyrick: The History and Antiquities of the County of Cardigan,\nby Samuel Rush Meyrick (London, 1808), 579.\n\nMilton: English Poems, by John Milton, 288.\n\nMind, a quarterly review of psychology and philosophy, edited by\nG. F. Stout (London, 1876-), 633.\n\nMommsen: Heortologie, antiquarische Untersuchungen \u00fcber die st\u00e4dtischen\nFeste der Athener, by August Mommsen (Leipsic, 1864), 310.\n\nMonthly Packet, the, now edited by C. R. Coleridge and Arthur Innes\n(London, 1851-), 416, 417.\n\nMoore: The Folk-Lore of the Isle of Man, by A. W. Moore (London,\n1891), 284.\n\n  ,, : The Surnames and Place-names of the Isle of Man, by A. W. Moore\n(London, 1890), 311, 332, 334.\n\nMorgan: An Antiquarian Survey of East Gower, Glamorganshire, by\nW. Ll. Morgan (London, 1899), 404.\n\nMorganwg: Hanes Morganwg, by Dafyd Morganwg [D. W. Jones,\nF.G.S.] (Aberdare, 1874) [an octavo volume issued to subscribers,\nand so scarce now that I had to borrow a copy], 356.\n\nMorris: Celtic Remains, by Lewis Morris, edited by Silvan Evans and\nprinted for the Cambrian Arch\u00e6ological Association (London, 1878),\n148, 413, 564, 566, 694.\n\nMyrdin: Prophwydoliaeth Myrdin Wyllt: see 485.\n\n\n\nNennius: Nennius und Gildas, edited by San-Marte (Berlin, 1844), 281,\n406, 407, 537-9, 570.\n\nNew English Dictionary, edited by Dr. James H. Murray and Henry Bradley\n(London and Oxford, 1884-), 317.\n\nNicholson: Golspie, contributions to its folklore, collected and\nedited by Edward W. B. Nicholson (London, 1897), 317.\n\nNicholson: The Poetical Works of Wm. Nicholson (3rd ed., Castle\nDouglas, 1878), 325.\n\nNotes and Queries (Bream's Buildings, Chancery Lane, E.C.), 563.\n\n  ,,  : Choice Notes from 'Notes and Queries,' consisting of folklore\n(London, 1859), 140, 213, 217, 325, 418, 453, 454, 494, 596, 601, 611,\n612.\n\nNutt: The Voyage of Bran son of Febal to the Land of the Living,\nby Kuno Meyer and Alfred Nutt (London, 1895, 1897), 618, 620, 622,\n657, 662.\n\n ,, : Studies on the Legend of the Holy Grail, by Alfred Nutt (London,\n1888), 287, 438, 548.\n\n\n\nO'Curry: On the Manners and Customs of the Ancient Irish, a series\nof lectures delivered by the late Eugene O'Curry (London, 1873), 375,\n392, 617, 632: see also Curry.\n\nO'Donovan: Annals of the Kingdom of Ireland by the Four Masters,\nfrom the earliest period to the year 1616, edited by John O'Donovan\n(2nd ed., Dublin, 1856), 414, 426-8, 433, 546, 569.\n\nO'Grady: Silva Gadelica, a collection of tales in Irish, with extracts\nillustrating persons and places, edited from manuscripts and translated\nby Dr. S. H. O'Grady (London, 1892), 381, 437.\n\nO'Reilly: An Irish-English Dictionary, by Edward O'Reilly, with a\nsupplement by John O'Donovan (Dublin, 1864), 142.\n\nOliver: Monumenta de Insula Manni\u00e6, being vol. iv of the publications\nof the Manx Society, by J. R. Oliver (Douglas, 1860), 314, 334.\n\nOwen: Ancient Laws and Institutes of Wales, edited by Aneurin Owen\nfor the Public Records Commission (London, 1841), 421.\n\nOwen: Welsh Folk-Lore, a collection of the folk-tales and legends of\nNorth Wales, being the prize essay of the National Eistedfod in 1887,\nby the Rev. Elias Owen (Oswestry and Wrexham, 1896), 222, 275, 690.\n\nOwen: The Poetical Works of the Rev. Goronwy Owen, with his life and\ncorrespondence, edited by the Rev. Robert Jones (London, 1876), 84.\n\nOwen: The Description of Pembrokeshire, by George Owen of Henllys,\nedited with notes and an appendix by Henry Owen (London, 1892), 506,\n513, 515.\n\nOwen: The Cambrian Biography, or Historical Notices of celebrated men\namong the Ancient Britons, by William Owen (London, 1803), 169, 170.\n\n\n\nParis: Merlin, Roman en Prose du XIIIe Si\u00e8cle, edited by Gaston Paris\nand Jacob Ulrich (Paris, 1886), 563.\n\nParthey: Itinerarium Antonini Augusti et Hierosolymitanum ex Libris\nmanu scriptis, edited by G. Parthey and M. Pinder (Berlin, 1848), 514.\n\nPembroke County Guardian, the, a newspaper owned and edited by\nH. W. Williams and published at Solva, 160, 171, 172.\n\nPennant: A Tour in Scotland, by Thomas Pennant (Warrington, 1774), 310.\n\n   ,,  : A Tour in Scotland and a Voyage to the Hebrides, MDCCLXXII,\nby Thomas Pennant (Chester, 1774), 692.\n\n   ,,  : Tours in Wales, by Thomas Pennant, edited by J. Rhys\n(Carnarvon, 1883), 125, 130, 532.\n\nPhillimore: Annales Cambri\u00e6 and Old-Welsh Genealogies from Harleian\nMS. 3859, edited by Egerton Phillimore, in vol. ix of the Cymmrodor,\n408, 476, 480, 551, 570.\n\nPhillips: The Book of Common Prayer in Manx Gaelic, being translations\nmade by Bishop Phillips in 1610 and by the Manx clergy in 1765;\nedited by A. W. Moore, assisted by John Rhys, and printed for the\nManx Society (Douglas, 1893, 1894), 320.\n\nPlautus: T. Macci Plauti Asinaria, from the text of Goetz and Schoell,\nby J. H. Gray (Cambridge, 1894), 535.\n\nPlutarch: De Defectu Oraculorum (the Didot ed., Paris, 1870), 331,\n456, 493, 494.\n\nPowysland: Collections, historical and arch\u00e6ological, relating to\nMontgomeryshire and its Borders, issued by the Powysland Club (London,\n1868-), 237.\n\nPreller: Griechische Mythologie, von L. Preller, vierte Auflage von\nCarl Robert (Berlin, 1887), 310.\n\nPrice: Hanes Cymru a Chenedl y Cymry o'r Cynoesoed hyd at farwolaeth\nLlewelyn ap Gruffyd, by the Rev. Thomas Price 'Carnhuanawc'\n(Crickhowel, 1842), 490.\n\nPtolemy: Claudii Ptolem\u00e6i Geographia: e Codicibus recognovit Carolus\nM\u00fcllerus (vol. i, Paris, 1883), 385, 387, 388, 445, 581.\n\nPughe: The Physicians of Mydvai (Medygon Mydfai), translated by John\nPughe of Aberdovey, and edited by the Rev. John Williams Ab Ithel\n(Llandovery, 1861) [this volume has an introduction consisting of the\nLegend of Llyn y Fan Fach, contributed by Mr. William Rees of Tonn,\nwho collected it, in the year 1841, from various sources named], 2, 12.\n\nPughe: A Dictionary of the Welsh Language explained in English,\nby Dr. Wm. Owen Pughe (2nd ed., Denbigh, 1832), 383, 502.\n\n\n\nRastell: A. C. Mery Talys, printed by John Rastell, reprinted in\nHazlitt's Shakespeare Jest-books (London, 1844), 599.\n\nRees: An Essay on the Welsh Saints or the primitive Christians usually\nconsidered to have been the founders of Churches in Wales, by the\nRev. Rice Rees (London and Llandovery, 1836), 163, 217, 396, 534.\n\nRees: Lives of the Cambro-British Saints, by the Rev. W. J. Rees,\npublished for the Welsh MSS. Society (Llandovery, 1853), 693.\n\nRennes: Annales de Bretagne publi\u00e9es par la Facult\u00e9 des Lettres de\nRennes (Rennes, 1886-), 500.\n\nRevue Arch\u00e9ologique (new series, vol. xxiii, Paris, 1800-), 386.\n\nRhys: Celtic Britain, by John Rhys (2nd ed., London, 1884), 72.\n\n ,, : Lectures on Welsh Philology, by John Rhys (2nd ed., London,\n1879), 566.\n\n ,, : Hibbert Lectures, 1886, on the origin and growth of religion\nas illustrated by Celtic heathendom, by John Rhys (London, 1888),\n310, 321, 328, 331, 373, 387, 432, 435, 444, 447, 511, 542, 570,\n613, 654, 657, 694.\n\nRhys: Studies in the Arthurian Legend, by John Rhys (Oxford, 1891),\n217, 287, 331, 375, 382, 387, 435, 438-41, 466, 494, 496, 561, 573,\n610, 613.\n\nRhys: Cambrobrytannic\u00e6 Cymraec\u00e6ve Lingu\u00e6 Institutiones et\nRudimenta ... conscripta \u00e0 Joanne Dauide Rh\u00e6so, Monensi Lanuaethl\u00e6o\nCambrobrytanno, Medico Senensi (London, 1592), 22, 225.\n\nRichard: The Poetical Works of the Rev. Edward Richard (London,\n1811), 577.\n\nRichards: A Welsh and English Dictionary, by Thomas Richards (Trefriw,\n1815) 378.\n\nRoberts: The Cambrian Popular Antiquities, by Peter Roberts, (London,\n1815), 396.\n\nRosellini: see 682.\n\nRymer: Foedera, Conventiones, Liter\u00e6 et cujuscunque Generis Acta\npublica inter Reges Angli\u00e6 et alios quosvis Imperatores, Reges,\nPontifices, Principes, vel Communitates, edited by Thomas Rymer\n(vol. viii, London, 1709), 490.\n\n\n\nSale: The Koran, translated into English with explanatory notes and\na preliminary discourse, by George Sale (London, 1877), 608.\n\nSampson: Otia Merseiana, the publication of the Arts Faculty of\nUniversity College, Liverpool, edited by John Sampson (London),\n393, 451.\n\nSan-Marte: Beitr\u00e4ge zur bretonischen und celtisch-germanischen\nHeldensage, by San-Marte (Quedlinburg, 1847), 611.\n\nSchwan: Grammatik des Altfranz\u00f6sischen, by Eduard Schwan (Leipsic,\n1888), 563.\n\nScotland: Proceedings of the Society of Antiquaries of Scotland\n(Edinburgh), 244.\n\nScott: the Works of Sir Walter Scott, 320, 643, 689.\n\nS\u00e9billot: Traditions et Superstitions de la Haute-Bretagne, by Paul\nS\u00e9billot (Paris, 1882), 273.\n\nShakespeare: The Plays and Poems of Shakespeare, 197, 636, 694.\n\nSikes: British Goblins, Welsh Folk-lore, Fairy Mythology, Legends and\nTraditions, by Wirt Sikes (London, 1880), 17, 18, 99, 155, 160, 173,\n191, 192.\n\nSilvan Evans: Dictionary of the Welsh Language (Geiriadur Cymraeg),\nby D. Silvan Evans (Carmarthen, 1888-), 387, 431, 539, 580, 620, 621.\n\n  ,,    ,,  : Y Brython, a periodical in Welsh for Welsh antiquities\nand folklore, edited by the Rev. D. S. Evans, and published by Robert\nIsaac Jones at Tremadoc (in quarto for 1858 and 1859, in octavo for\n1860-2), 40, 73, 86, 98, 134, 137, 141, 151-5, 158-60, 202, 321, 413,\n442, 456, 464, 470, 481, 690.\n\n  ,,    ,,  : Yst\u00ean Sioned, by D. Silvan Evans (Aberystwyth, 1882),\n271-3.\n\nSimrock: Die Edda, die \u00e4ltere und j\u00fcngere, nebst den mythischen\nErz\u00e4hlungen der Skalda, translated and explained by Karl Simrock\n(Stuttgart, 1855), 652.\n\nSinclair: The Statistical Account of Scotland, drawn up from the\ncommunications of the ministers of the different parishes, by Sir\nJohn Sinclair (Edinburgh, 1794), 310.\n\nSkene: Chronicles of the Picts, Chronicles of the Scots, and other\nMemorials of Scottish History, edited by Wm. F. Skene (Edinburgh,\n1867), 374.\n\nSkene: The Four Ancient Books of Wales, by Wm. F. Skene (Edinburgh,\n1868) [vol. ii contains, besides notes and illustrations, the text\nof the Black Book of Carmarthen, 3-61; the Book of Aneurin, 62-107;\nthe Book of Taliessin, 108-217; and some of the poetry in the Red Book\nof Hergest, 218-308. These four texts are to be found translated in\nvol. i], 226, 233, 269, 281, 387, 442, 541, 543, 550, 614-7.\n\nSouth Wales Daily News (Duncan, Cardiff), 376.\n\nSouthey: Madoc, a poem by Robert Southey (London, 1815), 169-71.\n\nSpeed: The Theatre of the Empire of Great Britaine, by John Speed\n[not Speede] (London, 1611), 208.\n\nSteinmeyer: Die althochdeutschen Glossen, collected and elaborated\nby Elias Steinmeyer and Eduard Sievers (Berlin, 1879-98), 683.\n\nStengel: Li Romans de Durmart le Galois, altfranz\u00f6sisches\nRittergedicht, published for the first time by Edmund Stengel\n(T\u00fcbingen, 1873), 438.\n\nStephens: The Gododin of Aneurin Gwawdryd, with an English translation\nand copious notes, by Thomas Stephens; edited by Professor Powel,\nand printed for the Cymmrodorion Society (London, 1888), 310, 543, 647.\n\nStevenson: The Scottish Antiquary or Northern Notes and Queries,\nedited by J. H. Stevenson (Edinburgh, 1886-), 693.\n\nStokes: Cormac's Glossary: see Cormac.\n\n  ,,  : Goidelica, Old and Early-Middle-Irish Glosses, Prose and\nVerse, edited by Whitley Stokes (2nd ed., London, 1872), 295, 374.\n\n  ,,  : Irische Texte mit Uebersetzungen und W\u00f6rterbuch, edited by\nWhitley Stokes and E. Windisch (3rd series, Leipsic, 1891), 631.\n\n  ,,  : The Tripartite Life of Patrick, edited, with translations and\nindexes, by Whitley Stokes (Rolls Series, London, 1887), 535.\n\n  ,,  : Urkeltischer Sprachschatz von Whitley Stokes, \u00fcbersetzt,\n\u00fcberarbeitet und herausgegeben von Adalbert Bezzenberger, forming\nthe second part of the fourth edition of Fick's Vergleichendes\nW\u00f6rterbuch der indogermanischen Sprachen (Gottingen, 1894), 671.\n\nStrabo: Strabonis Geographica recognovit Augustus Meineke (Leipsic,\n1852-3), 654.\n\nSturl\u00e6us: Edda Snorronis Sturl\u00e6i (Copenhagen, 1848), 652.\n\n\n\nTacitus: Cornelii Taciti de Origine et Situ Germanorum Liber, edited\nby Alfred Holder (Freiburg i. B., and T\u00fcbingen, 1882), 271.\n\nTaliesin, a Welsh periodical published at Ruthin in 1859-60, 135-7,\n269.\n\nTaliessin: The Book of Taliessin (see Skene), 550, 614-7.\n\nTegid: Gwaith Bardonol y diwedar barch. John Jones 'Tegid' [also called\nJoan Tegid], edited by the Rev. Henry Roberts (Llandovery, 1859), 445.\n\nTriads: [The so-called Historical Triads, referred to in this volume,\nare to be found in the Myvyrian Archaiology (London, 1801), series i\nand ii in vol. ii, 1-22, and (the later) series iii in the same vol.,\n57-80. In the single-volume edition of the Myvyrian (Denbigh, 1870),\nthey occupy continuously pp. 388-414. Series ii comes from the Red\nBook of Hergest, and will be found also in the volume of the Oxford\nMabinogion, pp. 297-309], 170, 281, 326, 382, 429-31, 433, 440, 441,\n443-5, 498, 500, 501, 503-9, 565, 569.\n\nTylor: Primitive Culture, Researches into the Development of Mythology,\nPhilosophy, Religion, Language, Art, and Custom, by Edward Tylor\n(2nd ed., London, 1873), 290, 329, 601, 603, 641, 658.\n\nTwyne: Thomas Twyne's Breuiary of Britayne, a translation of Humfrey\nLhuyd's Fragmentum (London, 1573), 412.\n\n\n\nUlfilas: Ulfilas, Text, Grammar, and Dictionary, elaborated and edited\nby F. L. Stamm (Paderborn, 1869), 626.\n\n\n\nVigfusson: An Icelandic Dictionary, enlarged and completed by Gudbrand\nVigfusson (Oxford, 1874), 288, 652.\n\nVising: see 563.\n\n\n\nWaldron: A Description of the Isle of Man, by George Waldron, being\nvol. xi of the Manx Society's publications (Douglas, 1865), 290.\n\nWaring: Recollections and Anecdotes of Edward Williams, by Elijah\nWaring (London, 1850), 458.\n\nWestermarck: The History of Human Marriage, by Edward Westermarck\n(London, 1894), 654.\n\nWeyman: From the Memoirs of a Minister of France, by Stanley Weyman\n(London, 1895), 690.\n\nWilliams: The English Works of Eliezer Williams, with a memoir of\nhis life by his son, St. George Armstrong Williams (London, 1840), 493.\n\nWilliams: Brut y Tywysogion, or the Chronicle of the Princes, edited\nby John Williams Ab Ithel (Rolls Series, London, 1860), 79, 513.\n\nWilliams: A Biographical Dictionary of Eminent Welshmen, by the\nRev. Robert Williams (Llandovery, 1852), 534.\n\n   ,,   : Y Seint Greal, edited with a translation and glossary by the\nRev. Robert Williams (London, 1876), 438, 514, 580.\n\nWilliams: The Doom of Colyn Dolphyn, by Taliesin Williams (London,\n1837), 561.\n\n   ,,   : Traethawd ar Gywreined Glynn Ned, by Taliesin Williams: see\n439.\n\nWilliams: Observations on the Snowdon Mountains, by William Williams\nof Llandegai (London, 1802), 48, 673, 674.\n\nWindisch: Irische Texte mit W\u00f6rterbuch, by Ernst Windisch (Leipsic,\n1880), 501, 657.\n\n   ,,   : Kurzgefasste irische Grammatik (Leipsic, 1879), 291, 501,\n502, 531, 546, 547, 603, 613, 618, 691.\n\n   ,,   : \u00dcber die irische Sage Noinden Ulad, in the Berichte der\nk. s\u00e4chs. Gesellschaft der Wissenschaften (phil.-historische Classe,\nDec. 1884), 654.\n\nWoodall: Bye-gones, a periodical reissue of notes, queries, and\nreplies on subjects relating to Wales and the Borders, published in\nthe columns of The Border Counties Advertizer, by Messrs. Woodall,\nMinshall & Co. of the Caxton Press, Oswestry, 169, 378.\n\nWood-Martin: Pagan Ireland, by W. G. Wood-Martin (London, 1895), 612.\n\nWorth: A History of Devonshire, with Sketches of its leading Worthies,\nby R. N. Worth (London, 1895), 307.\n\nWright: The English Dialect Dictionary, edited by Professor Joseph\nWright (London and Oxford, 1898-), 66.\n\nWynne: The History of the Gwydir Family, published by Angharad Llwyd in\nthe year 1827, and by Askew Roberts at Oswestry in 1878, 490, 491, 670.\n\n\n\nY Cymmrodor, the magazine embodying the transactions of the\nCymmrodorion Society of London (Secretary, E. Vincent Evans, 64\nChancery Lane, W.C.), 374, 384, 480, 510, 513, 520, 600, 610, 690,\n693, 694.\n\nY Drych, a newspaper published at Utica in the United States of North\nAmerica, 234.\n\nY Gordofigion, an extinct Welsh periodical: see p. 450.\n\nY Gwyliedyd, a magazine of useful knowledge intended for the benefit\nof monoglot Welshmen (Bala, 1823-37), 450.\n\nY Nofelyd, a Welsh periodical published by Mr. Aubrey, of Llannerch\ny Med, 396.\n\nYoung: Burghead, by H. W. Young (Inverness, 1899), 345.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nCELTIC FOLKLORE\n\nWELSH AND MANX\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nGallias utique possedit, et quidem ad nostram memoriam. Namque\nTiberii C\u00e6saris principatus sustulit Druidas eorum, et hoc genus\nvatum medicorumque. Sed quid ego h\u00e6c commemorem in arte Oceanum\nquoque transgressa, et ad natur\u00e6 inane pervecta? Britannia hodieque\neam attonite celebrat tantis cerimoniis, ut dedisse Persis videri\npossit. Adeo ista toto mundo consensere, quamquam discordi et sibi\nignoto. Nec satis \u00e6stimari potest, quantum Romanis debeatur, qui\nsustulere monstra, in quibus hominem occidere religiosissimum erat,\nmandi vero etiam saluberrimum.\n\n                                      Pliny, Historia Naturalis, XXX. 4.\n\n\nPline fait remarquer que ces pratiques antipathiques au g\u00e9nie grec\nsont d'origine m\u00e9dique. Nous les rencontrons en Europe \u00e0 l'\u00e9tat de\nsurvivances. L'universalit\u00e9 de ces superstitions prouve en effet\nqu'elles \u00e9manent d'une source unique qui n'est pas europ\u00e9enne. Il\nest difficile de les consid\u00e9rer comme un produit de l'esprit aryen;\nil faut remonter plus haut pour en trouver l'origine. Si, en Gaule, en\nGrande-Bretagne, en Irlande, tant de superstitions relevant de la magie\nexistaient encore au temps de Pline enracin\u00e9es dans les esprits \u00e0 tel\npoint que le grand naturaliste pouvait dire, \u00e0 propos de la Bretagne,\nqu'il semblait que ce f\u00fbt elle qui avait donn\u00e9 la magie \u00e0 la Perse,\nc'est qu'en Gaule, en Grande-Bretagne, et en Irlande le fond de la\npopulation \u00e9tait compos\u00e9 d'\u00e9l\u00e9ments \u00e9trangers \u00e0 la race aryenne,\ncomme les faits arch\u00e9ologiques le d\u00e9montrent, ainsi que le reconnait\nnotre \u00e9minent confr\u00e8re et ami, M. d'Arbois de Jubainville lui-m\u00eame.\n\n                Alexandre Bertrand, La Religion des Gaulois, pp. 55, 56.\n\n\nUne croyance universellement admise dans le monde lettr\u00e9, en France et\nhors de France, fait des Fran\u00e7ais les fils des Gaulois qui ont pris\nRome en 390 avant J\u00e9sus-Christ, et que C\u00e9sar a vaincus au milieu du\npremier si\u00e8cle avant notre \u00e8re. On croit que nous sommes des Gaulois,\nsurvivant \u00e0 toutes les r\u00e9volutions qui depuis tant de si\u00e8cles ont\nboulevers\u00e9 le monde. C'est une id\u00e9e pr\u00e9con\u00e7ue que, suivant moi, la\nscience doit rejeter. Seuls \u00e0 peu pr\u00e8s, les arch\u00e9ologues ont vu la\nv\u00e9rit\u00e9.... Les pierres lev\u00e9es, les cercles de pierre, les petites\ncabanes construites en gros blocs de pierre pour servir de dernier\nasile aux d\u00e9funts, \u00e9taient, croyait-on, des monuments celtiques.... On\ndonnait \u00e0 ces rustiques t\u00e9moignages d'une civilisation primitive des\nnoms bretons, ou n\u00e9o-celtiques de France; on croyait na\u00efvement, en\nreproduisant des mots de cette langue moderne, parler comme auraient\nfait, s'ils avaient pu revenir \u00e0 la vie, ceux qui ont remu\u00e9 ces\nlourdes pierres, ceux qui les ont fix\u00e9es debout sur le sol ou m\u00eame\n\u00e9lev\u00e9es sur d'autres.... Mais ceux qui ont dress\u00e9 les pierres lev\u00e9es,\nles cercles de pierres; ceux qui ont construit les cabanes fun\u00e9raires\nne parlaient pas celtique et le breton diff\u00e8re du celtique comme le\nfran\u00e7ais du latin.\n\n                                             H. d'Arbois de Jubainville,\n                        Les premiers Habitants de l'Europe, II. xi-xiii.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nUNDINE'S KYMRIC SISTERS\n\n                                Undine, liebes Bildchen du,\n                                Seit ich zuerst aus alten Kunden\n                                Dein seltsam Leuchten aufgefunden,\n                                Wie sangst du oft mein Herz in Ruh!\n\n                                                     De la Motte Fouqu\u00e9.\n\n\nThe chief object of this and several of the following chapters is to\nplace on record all the matter I can find on the subject of Welsh\nlake legends: what I may have to say of them is merely by the way\nand sporadic, and I should feel well paid for my trouble if these\ncontributions should stimulate others to communicate to the public bits\nof similar legends, which, possibly, still linger unrecorded among\nthe mountains of Wales. For it should be clearly understood that all\nsuch things bear on the history of the Welsh, as the history of no\npeople can be said to have been written so long as its superstitions\nand beliefs in past times have not been studied; and those who may\nthink that the legends here recorded are childish and frivolous, may\nrest assured that they bear on questions which could not themselves\nbe called either childish or frivolous. So, however silly a legend\nmay be thought, let him who knows such a legend communicate it to\nsomebody who will place it on record; he will then probably find that\nit has more meaning and interest than he had anticipated.\n\n\n\n\nI.\n\nI find it best to begin by reproducing a story which has already been\nplaced on record: this appears desirable on account of its being\nthe most complete of its kind, and the one with which shorter ones\ncan most readily be compared. I allude to the legend of the Lady\nof Llyn y Fan Fach in Carmarthenshire, which I take the liberty of\ncopying from Mr. Rees of Tonn's version in the introduction to The\nPhysicians of Mydvai [1], published by the Welsh Manuscript Society,\nat Llandovery, in 1861. There he says that he wrote it down from\nthe oral recitations, which I suppose were in Welsh, of John Evans,\ntiler, of Mydfai, David Williams, Morfa, near Mydfai, who was about\nninety years old at the time, and Elizabeth Morgan, of Henllys Lodge,\nnear Llandovery, who was a native of the same village of Mydfai; to\nthis it may be added that he acknowledges obligations also to Joseph\nJoseph, Esq., F.S.A., Brecon, for collecting particulars from the\nold inhabitants of the parish of Llandeusant. The legend, as given\nby Mr. Rees in English, runs as follows, and strongly reminds one in\ncertain parts of the Story of Undine as given in the German of De la\nMotte Fouqu\u00e9, with which it should be compared:--\n\n'When the eventful struggle made by the Princes of South Wales to\npreserve the independence of their country was drawing to its close in\nthe twelfth century, there lived at Blaensawde [2] near Llandeusant,\nCarmarthenshire, a widowed woman, the relict of a farmer who had\nfallen in those disastrous troubles.\n\n'The widow had an only son to bring up, but Providence smiled upon her,\nand despite her forlorn condition, her live stock had so increased in\ncourse of time, that she could not well depasture them upon her farm,\nso she sent a portion of her cattle to graze on the adjoining Black\nMountain, and their most favourite place was near the small lake called\nLlyn y Fan Fach, on the north-western side of the Carmarthenshire Fans.\n\n'The son grew up to manhood, and was generally sent by his mother to\nlook after the cattle on the mountain. One day, in his peregrinations\nalong the margin of the lake, to his great astonishment, he beheld,\nsitting on the unruffled surface of the water, a lady; one of the most\nbeautiful creatures that mortal eyes ever beheld, her hair flowed\ngracefully in ringlets over her shoulders, the tresses of which\nshe arranged with a comb, whilst the glassy surface of her watery\ncouch served for the purpose of a mirror, reflecting back her own\nimage. Suddenly she beheld the young man standing on the brink of\nthe lake, with his eyes riveted on her, and unconsciously offering\nto herself the provision of barley bread and cheese with which he\nhad been provided when he left his home.\n\n'Bewildered by a feeling of love and admiration for the object\nbefore him, he continued to hold out his hand towards the lady,\nwho imperceptibly glided near to him, but gently refused the offer\nof his provisions. He attempted to touch her, but she eluded his\ngrasp, saying--\n\n\n    Cras dy fara;               Hard baked is thy bread!\n    Nid hawd fy nala.           'Tis not easy to catch me [3];\n\n\nand immediately dived under the water and disappeared, leaving the\nlove-stricken youth to return home, a prey to disappointment and\nregret that he had been unable to make further acquaintance with one,\nin comparison with whom the whole of the fair maidens of Llandeusant\nand Mydfai [4] whom he had ever seen were as nothing.\n\nOn his return home the young man communicated to his mother the\nextraordinary vision he had beheld. She advised him to take some\nunbaked dough or \"toes\" the next time in his pocket, as there must\nhave been some spell connected with the hard-baked bread, or \"Bara\ncras,\" which prevented his catching the lady.\n\n'Next morning, before the sun had gilded with its rays the peaks of\nthe Fans, the young man was at the lake, not for the purpose of looking\nafter his mother's cattle, but seeking for the same enchanting vision\nhe had witnessed the day before; but all in vain did he anxiously\nstrain his eyeballs and glance over the surface of the lake, as only\nthe ripples occasioned by a stiff breeze met his view, and a cloud\nhung heavily on the summit of the Fan, which imparted an additional\ngloom to his already distracted mind.\n\n'Hours passed on, the wind was hushed, and the clouds which had\nenveloped the mountain had vanished into thin air before the powerful\nbeams of the sun, when the youth was startled by seeing some of his\nmother's cattle on the precipitous side of the acclivity, nearly on\nthe opposite side of the lake. His duty impelled him to attempt to\nrescue them from their perilous position, for which purpose he was\nhastening away, when, to his inexpressible delight, the object of his\nsearch again appeared to him as before, and seemed much more beautiful\nthan when he first beheld her. His hand was again held out to her,\nfull of unbaked bread, which he offered with an urgent proffer of\nhis heart also, and vows of eternal attachment. All of which were\nrefused by her, saying--\n\n\n    Llaith dy fara!             Unbaked is thy bread!\n    Ti ni fynna'.               I will not have thee [5].\n\n\nBut the smiles that played upon her features as the lady vanished\nbeneath the waters raised within the young man a hope that forbade\nhim to despair by her refusal of him, and the recollection of which\ncheered him on his way home. His aged parent was made acquainted\nwith his ill-success, and she suggested that his bread should next\ntime be but slightly baked, as most likely to please the mysterious\nbeing of whom he had become enamoured.\n\n'Impelled by an irresistible feeling, the youth left his mother's\nhouse early next morning, and with rapid steps he passed over the\nmountain. He was soon near the margin of the lake, and with all the\nimpatience of an ardent lover did he wait with a feverish anxiety\nfor the reappearance of the mysterious lady.\n\n'The sheep and goats browsed on the precipitous sides of the Fan;\nthe cattle strayed amongst the rocks and large stones, some of which\nwere occasionally loosened from their beds and suddenly rolled down\ninto the lake; rain and sunshine alike came and passed away; but all\nwere unheeded by the youth, so wrapped up was he in looking for the\nappearance of the lady.\n\n'The freshness of the early morning had disappeared before the sultry\nrays of the noon-day sun, which in its turn was fast verging towards\nthe west as the evening was dying away and making room for the shades\nof night, and hope had wellnigh abated of beholding once more the Lady\nof the Lake. The young man cast a sad and last farewell look over\nthe waters, and, to his astonishment, beheld several cows walking\nalong its surface. The sight of these animals caused hope to revive\nthat they would be followed by another object far more pleasing; nor\nwas he disappointed, for the maiden reappeared, and to his enraptured\nsight, even lovelier than ever. She approached the land, and he rushed\nto meet her in the water. A smile encouraged him to seize her hand;\nneither did she refuse the moderately baked bread he offered her; and\nafter some persuasion she consented to become his bride, on condition\nthat they should only live together until she received from him three\nblows without a cause,\n\n\n    Tri ergyd diachos.          Three causeless blows.\n\n\nAnd if he ever should happen to strike her three such blows she would\nleave him for ever. To such conditions he readily consented, and would\nhave consented to any other stipulation, had it been proposed, as he\nwas only intent on then securing such a lovely creature for his wife.\n\n'Thus the Lady of the Lake engaged to become the young man's wife,\nand having loosed her hand for a moment she darted away and dived\ninto the lake. His chagrin and grief were such that he determined\nto cast himself headlong into the deepest water, so as to end his\nlife in the element that had contained in its unfathomed depths the\nonly one for whom he cared to live on earth. As he was on the point\nof committing this rash act, there emerged out of the lake two most\nbeautiful ladies, accompanied by a hoary-headed man of noble mien\nand extraordinary stature, but having otherwise all the force and\nstrength of youth. This man addressed the almost bewildered youth in\naccents calculated to soothe his troubled mind, saying that as he\nproposed to marry one of his daughters, he consented to the union,\nprovided the young man could distinguish which of the two ladies\nbefore him was the object of his affections. This was no easy task,\nas the maidens were such perfect counterparts of each other that it\nseemed quite impossible for him to choose his bride, and if perchance\nhe fixed upon the wrong one all would be for ever lost.\n\n'Whilst the young man narrowly scanned the two ladies, he could not\nperceive the least difference betwixt the two, and was almost giving\nup the task in despair, when one of them thrust her foot a slight\ndegree forward. The motion, simple as it was, did not escape the\nobservation of the youth, and he discovered a trifling variation in\nthe mode with which their sandals were tied. This at once put an end\nto the dilemma, for he, who had on previous occasions been so taken\nup with the general appearance of the Lady of the Lake, had also\nnoticed the beauty of her feet and ankles, and on now recognizing\nthe peculiarity of her shoe-tie he boldly took hold of her hand.\n\n'\"Thou hast chosen rightly,\" said her father; \"be to her a kind and\nfaithful husband, and I will give her, as a dowry, as many sheep,\ncattle, goats, and horses as she can count of each without heaving or\ndrawing in her breath. But remember, that if you prove unkind to her\nat any time, and strike her three times without a cause, she shall\nreturn to me, and shall bring all her stock back with her.\"\n\n'Such was the verbal marriage settlement, to which the young man gladly\nassented, and his bride was desired to count the number of sheep she\nwas to have. She immediately adopted the mode of counting by fives,\nthus:--One, two, three, four, five--One, two, three, four, five;\nas many times as possible in rapid succession, till her breath was\nexhausted. The same process of reckoning had to determine the number\nof goats, cattle, and horses respectively; and in an instant the full\nnumber of each came out of the lake when called upon by the father.\n\n'The young couple were then married, by what ceremony was not stated,\nand afterwards went to reside at a farm called Esgair Llaethdy,\nsomewhat more than a mile from the village of Mydfai, where they\nlived in prosperity and happiness for several years, and became the\nparents of three sons, who were beautiful children.\n\n'Once upon a time there was a christening to take place in the\nneighbourhood, to which the parents were specially invited. When the\nday arrived the wife appeared very reluctant to attend the christening,\nalleging that the distance was too great for her to walk. Her husband\ntold her to fetch one of the horses which were grazing in an adjoining\nfield. \"I will,\" said she, \"if you will bring me my gloves which\nI left in our house.\" He went to the house and returned with the\ngloves, and finding that she had not gone for the horse jocularly\nslapped her shoulder with one of them, saying, \"go! go!\" (dos, dos),\nwhen she reminded him of the understanding upon which she consented\nto marry him:--That he was not to strike her without a cause; and\nwarned him to be more cautious for the future.\n\n'On another occasion, when they were together at a wedding, in\nthe midst of the mirth and hilarity of the assembled guests, who\nhad gathered together from all the surrounding country, she burst\ninto tears and sobbed most piteously. Her husband touched her on her\nshoulder and inquired the cause of her weeping: she said, \"Now people\nare entering into trouble, and your troubles are likely to commence,\nas you have the second time stricken me without a cause.\"\n\n'Years passed on, and their children had grown up, and were\nparticularly clever young men. In the midst of so many worldly\nblessings at home the husband almost forgot that there remained\nonly one causeless blow to be given to destroy the whole of his\nprosperity. Still he was watchful lest any trivial occurrence should\ntake place which his wife must regard as a breach of their marriage\ncontract. She told him, as her affection for him was unabated, to be\ncareful that he would not, through some inadvertence, give the last\nand only blow, which, by an unalterable destiny, over which she had\nno control, would separate them for ever.\n\n'It, however, so happened that one day they were together at a\nfuneral, where, in the midst of the mourning and grief at the house\nof the deceased, she appeared in the highest and gayest spirits, and\nindulged in immoderate fits of laughter, which so shocked her husband\nthat he touched her, saying, \"Hush! hush! don't laugh.\" She said that\nshe laughed \"because people when they die go out of trouble,\" and,\nrising up, she went out of the house, saying, \"The last blow has been\nstruck, our marriage contract is broken, and at an end! Farewell!\" Then\nshe started off towards Esgair Llaethdy, where she called her cattle\nand other stock together, each by name. The cattle she called thus:--\n\n\n    Mu wlfrech, Moelfrech,          Brindled cow, white speckled,\n    Mu olfrech, Gwynfrech,          Spotted cow, bold freckled,\n    Pedair cae tonn-frech,          The four field sward mottled,\n    Yr hen wynebwen,                The old white-faced,\n    A'r las Geigen,                 And the grey Geingen,\n    Gyda'r Tarw Gwyn                With the white Bull,\n    O lys y Brenin;                 From the court of the King;\n      A'r llo du bach,                And the little black calf\n      Syd ar y bach,                  Tho' suspended on the hook,\n    Dere dithau, yn iach adre!      Come thou also, quite well home!\n\n\nThey all immediately obeyed the summons of their mistress. The\n\"little black calf,\" although it had been slaughtered, became alive\nagain, and walked off with the rest of the stock at the command of\nthe lady. This happened in the spring of the year, and there were\nfour oxen ploughing in one of the fields; to these she cried:--\n\n\n    Pedwar eidion glas              The four grey oxen,\n    Syd ar y maes,                  That are on the field,\n    Denwch chwithan                 Come you also\n    Yn iach adre!                   Quite well home!\n\n\nAway the whole of the live stock went with the Lady across Mydfai\nMountain, towards the lake from whence they came, a distance of above\nsix miles, where they disappeared beneath its waters, leaving no trace\nbehind except a well-marked furrow, which was made by the plough the\noxen drew after them into the lake, and which remains to this day as\na testimony to the truth of this story.\n\n'What became of the affrighted ploughman--whether he was left on the\nfield when the oxen set off, or whether he followed them to the lake,\nhas not been handed down to tradition; neither has the fate of the\ndisconsolate and half-ruined husband been kept in remembrance. But of\nthe sons it is stated that they often wandered about the lake and its\nvicinity, hoping that their mother might be permitted to visit the face\nof the earth once more, as they had been apprised of her mysterious\norigin, her first appearance to their father, and the untoward\ncircumstances which so unhappily deprived them of her maternal care.\n\n'In one of their rambles, at a place near D\u00f4l Howel, at the Mountain\nGate, still called \"Llidiad y Medygon,\" The Physicians' Gate, the\nmother appeared suddenly, and accosted her eldest son, whose name\nwas Rhiwallon, and told him that his mission on earth was to be a\nbenefactor to mankind by relieving them from pain and misery, through\nhealing all manner of their diseases; for which purpose she furnished\nhim with a bag full of medical prescriptions and instructions for the\npreservation of health. That by strict attention thereto he and his\nfamily would become for many generations the most skilful physicians\nin the country. Then, promising to meet him when her counsel was most\nneeded, she vanished. But on several occasions she met her sons near\nthe banks of the lake, and once she even accompanied them on their\nreturn home as far as a place still called \"Pant-y-Medygon,\" The\ndingle of the Physicians, where she pointed out to them the various\nplants and herbs which grew in the dingle, and revealed to them\ntheir medicinal qualities or virtues; and the knowledge she imparted\nto them, together with their unrivalled skill, soon caused them to\nattain such celebrity that none ever possessed before them. And in\norder that their knowledge should not be lost, they wisely committed\nthe same to writing, for the benefit of mankind throughout all ages.'\n\nTo the legend Mr. Rees added the following notes, which we reproduce\nalso at full length:--\n\n'And so ends the story of the Physicians of Mydfai, which has been\nhanded down from one generation to another, thus:--\n\n\nYr h\u00ean wr llwyd o'r cornel,        The grey old man in the corner\nGan ci dad a glywod chwedel [6],   Of his father heard a story,\nA chan ci dad fe glywod yntau      Which from his father he had heard,\nAc ar ei \u00f4l mi gofiais innau.      And after them I have remembered.\n\n\nAs stated in the introduction of the present work [i.e. the Physicians\nof Mydvai], Rhiwallon and his sons became Physicians to Rhys Gryg,\nLord of Llandovery and Dynefor Castles, \"who gave them rank, lands,\nand privileges at Mydfai for their maintenance in the practice of their\nart and science, and the healing and benefit of those who should seek\ntheir help,\" thus affording to those who could not afford to pay,\nthe best medical advice and treatment gratuitously. Such a truly\nroyal foundation could not fail to produce corresponding effects. So\nthe fame of the Physicians of Mydfai was soon established over the\nwhole country, and continued for centuries among their descendants.\n\n'The celebrated Welsh Bard, Dafyd ap Gwilym, who flourished in the\nfollowing century, and was buried at the Abbey of Tal-y-llychau [7],\nin Carmarthenshire, about the year 1368, says in one of his poems,\nas quoted in Dr. Davies' dictionary--\n\n\nMedyg ni wnai mod y gwnaeth     A Physician he would not make\nMydfai, o chai dyn medfaeth.    As Mydfai made, if he had a mead\n                                    fostered man.\n\n\nOf the above lands bestowed upon the Medygon, there are two farms\nin Mydfai parish still called \"Llwyn Ifan Fedyg,\" the Grove of Evan\nthe Physician; and \"Llwyn Meredyd Fedyg,\" the Grove of Meredith the\nPhysician. Esgair Llaethdy, mentioned in the foregoing legend, was\nformerly in the possession of the above descendants, and so was Ty\nnewyd, near Mydfai, which was purchased by Mr. Holford, of Cilgwyn,\nfrom the Rev. Charles Lloyd, vicar of Llandefalle, Breconshire,\nwho married a daughter of one of the Medygon, and had the living\nof Llandefalle from a Mr. Vaughan, who presented him to the same\nout of gratitude, because Mr. Lloyd's wife's father had cured him\nof a disease in the eye. As Mr. Lloyd succeeded to the above living\nin 1748, and died in 1800, it is probable that the skilful oculist\nwas John Jones, who is mentioned in the following inscription on a\ntombstone at present fixed against the west end of Mydfai Church:--\n\n\n                                  HERE\n        Lieth the body of Mr. DAVID JONES, of Mothvey, Surgeon,\n            who was an honest, charitable, and skilful man.\n            He died September 14th, Anno Dom 1719, aged 61.\n\n                          JOHN JONES, Surgeon,\n         Eldest son of the said David Jones, departed this life\n              the 25th of November, 1739, in the 44th year\n             of his Age, and also lyes interred hereunder.\n\n\nThese appear to have been the last of the Physicians who practised\nat Mydfai. The above John Jones resided for some time at Llandovery,\nand was a very eminent surgeon. One of his descendants, named John\nLewis, lived at Cwmbran, Mydfai, at which place his great-grandson,\nMr. John Jones, now resides.\n\n'Dr. Morgan Owen, Bishop of Llandaff, who died at Glasallt, parish of\nMydfai, in 1645, was a descendant of the Medygon, and an inheritor\nof much of their landed property in that parish, the bulk of which\nhe bequeathed to his nephew, Morgan Owen, who died in 1667, and was\nsucceeded by his son Henry Owen; and at the decease of the last of\nwhose descendants, Robert Lewis, Esq., the estates became, through the\nwill of one of the family, the property of the late D. A. S. Davies,\nEsq., M.P. for Carmarthenshire.\n\n'Bishop Owen bequeathed to another nephew, Morgan ap Rees, son of\nRees ap John, a descendant of the Medygon, the farm of Rhyblid,\nand some other property. Morgan ap Rees' son, Samuel Rice, resided\nat Loughor, in Gower, Glamorganshire, and had a son, Morgan Rice,\nwho was a merchant in London, and became Lord of the Manor of Tooting\nGraveney, and High Sheriff in the year 1772, and Deputy Lieutenant\nof the county of Surrey, 1776. He resided at Hill House, which he\nbuilt. At his death the whole of his property passed to his only\nchild, John Rice, Esq., whose eldest son, the Rev. John Morgan Rice,\ninherited the greater portion of his estates. The head of the family is\nnow the Rev. Horatio Morgan Rice, rector of South Hill with Callington,\nCornwall, and J.P. for the county, who inherited, with other property,\na small estate at Loughor. The above Morgan Rice had landed property in\nLlanmadock and Llangenith, as well as Loughor, in Gower, but whether\nhe had any connexion with Howel the Physician (ap Rhys ap Llywelyn ap\nPhilip the Physician, and lineal descendant from Einion ap Rhiwallon),\nwho resided at Cilgwryd in Gower, is not known.\n\n'Amongst other families who claim descent from the Physicians were\nthe Bowens of Cwmydw, Mydfai; and Jones of Dollgarreg and Penrhock,\nin the same parish; the latter of whom are represented by Charles\nBishop, of Dollgarreg, Esq., Clerk of the Peace for Carmarthenshire,\nand Thomas Bishop, of Brecon, Esq.\n\n'Rees Williams of Mydfai is recorded as one of the Medygon. His\ngreat-grandson was the late Rice Williams, M.D., of Aberystwyth,\nwho died May 16, 1842, aged 85, and appears to have been the last,\nalthough not the least eminent, of the Physicians descended from the\nmysterious Lady of Llyn y Fan [8].'\n\nThis brings the legend of the Lady of the Fan Lake into connexion\nwith a widely-spread family. There is another connexion between\nit and modern times, as will be seen from the following statement\nkindly made to me by the Rev. A. G. Edwards, Warden of the Welsh\nCollege at Llandovery, since then appointed Bishop of St. Asaph:\n'An old woman from Mydfai, who is now, that is to say in January 1881,\nabout eighty years of age, tells me that she remembers \"thousands and\nthousands of people visiting the Lake of the Little Fan on the first\nSunday or Monday in August, and when she was young she often heard\nold men declare that at that time a commotion took place in the lake,\nand that its waters boiled, which was taken to herald the approach of\nthe Lake Lady and her Oxen.\"' The custom of going up to the lake on\nthe first Sunday in August was a very well known one in years gone by,\nas I have learned from a good many people, and it is corroborated by\nMr. Joseph Joseph of Brecon, who kindly writes as follows, in reply\nto some queries of mine: 'On the first Sunday in the month of August,\nLlyn y Fan Fach is supposed to be boiling (berwi). I have seen scores\nof people going up to see it (not boiling though) on that day. I do not\nremember that any of them expected to see the Lady of the Lake.' As to\nthe boiling of the lake I have nothing to say, and I am not sure that\nthere is anything in the following statement made as an explanation of\nthe yearly visit to the lake by an old fisherwoman from Llandovery:\n'The best time for eels is in August, when the north-east wind blows\non the lake, and makes huge waves in it. The eels can then be seen\nfloating on the waves.'\n\nLast summer I went myself to the village of Mydfai, to see if I could\npick up any variants of the legend, but I was hardly successful;\nfor though several of the farmers I questioned could repeat bits of\nthe legend, including the Lake Lady's call to her cattle as she went\naway, I got nothing new, except that one of them said that the youth,\nwhen he first saw the Lake Lady at a distance, thought she was a\ngoose--he did not even rise to the conception of a swan--but that\nby degrees he approached her, and discovered that she was a lady in\nwhite, and that in due time they were married, and so on. My friend,\nthe Warden of Llandovery College, seems, however, to have found a bit\nof a version which may have been still more unlike the one recorded\nby Mr. Rees of Tonn: it was from an old man at Mydfai last year,\nfrom whom he was, nevertheless, only able to extract the statement\n'that the Lake Lady got somehow entangled in a farmer's \"gambo,\"\nand that ever after his farm was very fertile.' A 'gambo,' I ought to\nexplain, is a kind of a cart without sides, used in South Wales: both\nthe name and the thing seem to have come from England, though I cannot\nfind such a word as gambo or gambeau in the ordinary dictionaries.\n\nAmong other legends about lake fairies, there are, in the third\nchapter of Mr. Sikes' British Goblins, two versions of this story:\nthe first of them differs but slightly from Mr. Rees', in that the\nfarmer used to go near the lake to see some lambs he had bought at\na fair, and that whenever he did so three beautiful damsels appeared\nto him from the lake. They always eluded his attempts to catch them:\nthey ran away into the lake, saying, Cras dy fara, &c. But one day\na piece of moist bread came floating ashore, which he ate, and the\nnext day he had a chat with the Lake Maidens. He proposed marriage to\none of them, to which she consented, provided he could distinguish\nher from her sisters the day after. The story then, so far as I\ncan make out from the brief version which Mr. Sikes gives of it,\nwent on like that of Mr. Rees. The former gives another version,\nwith much more interesting variations, which omit all reference,\nhowever, to the Physicians of Mydfai, and relate how a young farmer\nhad heard of the Lake Maiden rowing up and down the lake in a golden\nboat with a golden scull. He went to the lake on New Year's Eve, saw\nher, was fascinated by her, and left in despair at her vanishing out\nof sight, although he cried out to her to stay and be his wife. She\nfaintly replied, and went her way, after he had gazed at her long\nyellow hair and pale melancholy face. He continued to visit the lake,\nand grew thin and negligent of his person, owing to his longing. But\na wise man, who lived on the mountain, advised him to tempt her with\ngifts of bread and cheese, which he undertook to do on Midsummer Eve,\nwhen he dropped into the lake a large cheese and a loaf of bread. This\nhe did repeatedly, until at last his hopes were fulfilled on New\nYear's Eve. This time he had gone to the lake clad in his best suit,\nand at midnight dropped seven white loaves and his biggest and finest\ncheese into the lake. The Lake Lady by-and-by came in her skiff to\nwhere he was, and gracefully stepped ashore. The scene need not be\nfurther described: Mr. Sikes gives a picture of it, and the story\nthen proceeds as in the other version.\n\nIt is a pity that Mr. Rees did not preserve the Welsh versions out\nof which he pieced together the English one; but as to Mr. Sikes,\nI cannot discover whence his has been derived, for he seems not to\nhave been too anxious to leave anybody the means of testing his work,\nas one will find on verifying his references, when he gives any. See\nalso the allusions to him in Hartland's Science of Fairy Tales,\npp. 64, 123, 137, 165, 278.\n\nSince writing the foregoing notes the following communication has\nreached me from a friend of my undergraduate days at Jesus College,\nOxford, Mr. Llywarch Reynolds of Merthyr Tydfil. Only the first\npart of it concerns the legend of Llyn y Fan Fach; but as the rest\nis equally racy I make no apology for publishing it in full without\nany editing, except the insertion of the meaning of two or three of\nthe Welsh words occurring in it:--\n\n'Tell Rhys that I have just heard a sequel to the Medygon Mydfai story,\ngot from a rustic on Mynyd y Banwen, between Glynn\u00ead and Glyntaw\u00eb, on\na ramble recently with David Lewis the barrister and Sidney Hartland\nthe folklorist. It was to the effect that after the disappearance of\nthe forwn, \"the damsel,\" into the lake, the disconsolate husband and\nhis friends set to work to drain the lake in order to get at her,\nif possible. They made a great cutting into the bank, when suddenly\na huge hairy monster of hideous aspect emerged from the water and\nstormed at them for disturbing him, and wound up with this threat:--\n\n\n    Os na cha'i lonyd yn ym lle,    If I get no quiet in my place,\n    Fi foda dre' 'Byrhondu!         I shall drown the town of Brecon!\n\n\nIt was evidently the last braich, \"arm,\" of a Triban Morgannwg,\nbut this was all my informant knew of it. From the allusion to Tre'\nByrhondu, it struck me that there was here probably a tale of Llyn\nSafadon, which had migrated to Llyn y Fan; because of course there\nwould have to be a considerable change in the \"levels\" before Llyn\ny Fan and the Sawde could put Brecon in any great jeopardy [9].\n\n'We also got another tale about a cwmshurwr, \"conjurer,\" who once\nlived in Ystradgyrlais (as the rustic pronounced it). The wizard was\na dyn llaw-harn, \"a man with an iron hand\"; and it being reported\nthat there was a great treasure hidden in Mynyd y Drum, the wizard\nsaid he would secure it, if he could but get some plucky fellow\nto spend a night with him there. John Gethin was a plucky fellow\n(dyn \"ysprydol\"), and he agreed to join the dyn llaw-harn in his\ndiablerie. The wizard traced two rings on the sward touching each\nother \"like a number 8\"; he went into one, and Gethin into the other,\nthe wizard strictly charging him on no account to step out of the\nring. The llaw-harn then proceeded to trafod 'i lyfrau, or \"busy\nhimself with his books\"; and there soon appeared a monstrous bull,\nbellowing dreadfully; but the plucky Gethin held his ground, and the\nbull vanished. Next came a terrible object, a \"fly-wheel of fire,\"\nwhich made straight for poor Gethin and made him swerve out of the\nring. Thereupon the wheel assumed the form of the diawl, \"devil,\"\nwho began to haul Gethin away. The llaw-harn seized hold of him and\ntried to get him back. The devil was getting the upper hand, when the\nllaw-harn begged the devil to let him keep Gethin while the piece of\ncandle he had with him lasted. The devil consented, and let go his hold\nof Gethin, whereupon the cwmshurwr immediately blew out the candle,\nand the devil was discomfited. Gethin preserved the piece of candle\nvery carefully, stowing it away in a cool place; but still it wasted\naway although it was never lighted. Gethin got such a fright that\nhe took to his bed, and as the candle wasted away he did the same,\nand they both came to an end simultaneously. Gethin vanished--and it\nwas not his body that was put into the coffin, but a lump of clay\nwhich was put in to save appearances! It is said that the wizard's\nbooks are in an oaken chest at Waungyrlais farm house to this day.\n\n'We got these tales on a ramble to see \"Maen y Gwediau,\" on the\nmountain near Coelbren Junction Station on the Neath and Brecon Railway\n(marked on the Ordnance Map), but we had to turn back owing to the\nfearful heat.'\n\nBefore dismissing Mr. Reynolds' letter I may mention a story in point\nwhich relates to a lake on the Brecon side of the mountains. It\nis given at length by the Rev. Edward Davies in his Mythology and\nRites of the British Druids (London, 1809), pp. 155-7. According to\nthis legend a door in the rock was to be found open once a year--on\nMay-day, as it is supposed--and from that door one could make one's\nway to the garden of the fairies, which was an island in the middle\nof the lake. This paradise of exquisite bliss was invisible, however,\nto those who stood outside the lake: they could only see an indistinct\nmass in the centre of the water. Once on a time a visitor tried to\ncarry away some of the flowers given him by the fairies, but he was\nthereby acting against their law, and not only was he punished with the\nloss of his senses, but the door has never since been left open. It\nis also related that once an adventurous person attempted to drain\nthe water away 'in order to discover its contents, when a terrific\nform arose from the midst of the lake, commanding him to desist,\nor otherwise he would drown the country.' This form is clearly of\nthe same species as that which, according to Mr. Reynolds' story,\nthreatened to drown the town of Brecon. Subsequent inquiries have\nelicited more information, and I am more especially indebted to my\nfriend Mr. Ivor James, who, as registrar of the University of Wales,\nhas of late years been living at Brecon. He writes to the following\neffect:--'The lake you want is Llyn Cwm Llwch, and the legend is very\nwell known locally, but there are variants. Once on a time men and\nboys dug a gully through the dam in order to let the water out. A\nman in a red coat, sitting in an armchair, appeared on the surface\nof the water and threatened them in the terms which you quote from\nMr. Reynolds. The red coat would seem to suggest that this form of\nthe legend dates possibly from a time since our soldiers were first\nclothed in red. In another case, however, the spectre was that of an\nold woman; and I am told that a somewhat similar story is told in\nconnexion with a well in the castle wall in the parish of Llandew,\nto the north of this town--Giraldus Cambrensis' parish. A friend of\nmine is employing his spare time at present in an inquiry into the\norigin of the lakes of this district, and he tells me that Llyn Cwm\nLlwch is of glacial origin, its dam being composed, as he thinks,\nof glacial d\u00e9bris through which the water always percolates into\nthe valley below. But storm water flows over the dam, and in the\ncourse of ages has cut for itself a gully, now about ten feet deep\nat the deepest point, through the embankment. The story was possibly\ninvented to explain that fact. There is no cave to be seen in the\nrock, and probably there never was one, as the formation is the Old\nRed Sandstone; and the island was perhaps equally imaginary.'\n\nThat is the substance of Mr. James' letter, in which he, moreover,\nrefers to J. D. Rhys' account of the lake in his Welsh introduction\nto his Grammar, published in London in 1592, under the title\nCambrobrytannic\u00e6 Cymraec\u00e6ve Lingu\u00e6 Institutiones et Rudimenta. There\nthe grammarian, in giving some account of himself, mentions his\nfrequent sojourns at the hospitable residence of a nobleman, named\nM. Morgan Mer\u00eadydh, near y Bugeildy ynn Nyphryn Tabh\u00eeda o bhywn\nSwydh Bhaesybhed, that is, 'near the Beguildy in the Valley of the\nTeme within the county of Radnor.' Then he continues to the following\neffect:--'But the latter part of this book was thought out under the\nbushes and green foliage in a bit of a place of my own called y Clun\nH\u00eer, at the top of Cwm y Llwch, below the spurs of the mountain of\nBannwchdeni, which some call Bann Arthur and others Moel Arthur. Below\nthat moel and in its lap there is a lake of pretty large size,\nunknown depth, and wondrous nature. For as the stories go, no bird\nhas ever been seen to repair to it or towards it, or to swim on it:\nit is wholly avoided, and some say that no animals or beasts of any\nkind are wont to drink of its waters. The peasantry of that country,\nand especially the shepherds who are wont to frequent these moels\nand bans, relate many other wonders concerning it and the exceeding\nstrange things beheld at times in connexion with this loch. This lake\nor loch is called Llyn Cwm y Llwch [10].'\n\n\n\n\nII.\n\nBefore dismissing the story of Llyn y Fan Fach I wish to append a\nsimilar one from the parish of Ystrad Dyfodwg in Glamorganshire. The\nfollowing is a translation of a version given in Welsh in Cyfaill\nyr Aelwyd a'r Frythones, edited by Elfed and Cadrawd, and published\nby Messrs. Williams and Son, Llanelly. The version in question is by\nCadrawd, and it is to the following effect--see the volume for 1892,\np. 59:--\n\n'Llyn y Forwyn, \"the Damsel's Pool,\" is in the parish of Ystrad\nTyfodwg: the inhabitants call it also Llyn Nelferch. It lies about\nhalfway between the farm house of Rhonda Fechan, \"Little Rhonda,\" and\nthe Vale of Safrwch. The ancient tradition concerning it is somewhat\nas follows:--\n\n'Once on a time a farmer lived at the Rhonda Fechan: he was unmarried,\nand as he was walking by the lake early one morning in spring he beheld\na young woman of beautiful appearance walking on the other side of\nit. He approached her and spoke to her: she gave him to understand that\nher home was in the lake, and that she owned a number of milch cows,\nthat lived with her at the bottom of the water. The farmer fancied her\nso much that he fell in love with her over head and ears: he asked\nher on the spot for her hand and heart; and he invited her to come\nand spend her life with him as his wife at the Rhonda Fechan. She\ndeclined at first, but as he was importunate she consented at last\non the following conditions, namely, that she would bring her cattle\nwith her out of the lake, and live with him until he and she had three\ndisputes with one another: then, she said, she and the cattle would\nreturn into the lake. He agreed to the conditions, and the marriage\ntook place. They lived very happily and comfortably for long years;\nbut the end was that they fell out with one another, and, when they\nhappened to have quarrelled for the third time, she was heard early\nin the morning driving the cattle towards the lake with these words:--\n\n\n        Prw dre', prw dre', prw'r gwartheg i dre';\n        Prw Milfach a Malfach, pedair Llualfach,\n        Alfach ac Ali, pedair Ladi,\n        Wynebwen drwynog, tro i'r waun lidiog,\n        Trech llyn y waun odyn, tair Pencethin,\n        Tair caseg du draw yn yr eithin [11].\n\n\nAnd into the lake they went out of sight, and there they live to\nthis day. And some believed that they had heard the voice and cry of\nNelferch in the whisper of the breeze on the top of the mountain hard\nby--many a time after that--as an old story (wedal) will have it.'\n\nFrom this it will be seen that the fairy wife's name was supposed\nto have been Nelferch, and that the piece of water is called after\nher. But I find that great uncertainty prevails as to the old name of\nthe lake, as I learn from a communication in 1894 from Mr. Llewellyn\nWilliams, living at Porth, only some five miles from the spot, that\none of his informants assured him that the name in use among former\ngenerations was Llyn Alfach. Mr. Williams made inquiries at the Rhonda\nFechan about the lake legend. He was told that the water had long\nsince been known as Llyn y Forwyn, from a morwyn, or damsel, with a\nnumber of cattle having been drowned in it. The story of the man who\nmentioned the name as Llyn Alfach was similar: the maid belonged to\nthe farm of Penrhys, he said, and the young man to the Rhonda Fechan,\nand it was in consequence of their third dispute, he added, that she\nleft him and went back to her previous service, and afterwards, while\ntaking the cattle to the water, she sank accidentally or purposely\ninto the lake, so that she was never found any more. Here it will\nbe seen how modern rationalism has been modifying the story into\nsomething quite uninteresting but without wholly getting rid of the\noriginal features, such as the three disputes between the husband\nand wife. Lastly, it is worth mentioning that this water appears to\nform part of a bit of very remarkable scenery, and that its waves\nstrike on one side against a steep rock believed to contain caves,\nsupposed to have been formerly inhabited by men and women. At present\nthe place, I learn, is in the possession of Messrs. Davis and Sons,\nowners of the Ferndale collieries, who keep a pleasure boat on the\nlake. I have appealed to them on the question of the name Nelferch\nor Alfach, in the hope that their books would help to decide as to\nthe old form of it. Replying on their behalf, Mr. J. Probert Evans\ninforms me that the company only got possession of the lake and the\nadjacent land in 1862, and that 'Llyn y Vorwyn' is the name of the\nformer in the oldest plan which they have. Inquiries have also been\nmade in the neighbourhood by my friend, Mr. Reynolds, who found the\nold tenants of the Rhonda Fechan Farm gone, and the neighbouring farm\nhouse of Dyffryn Safrwch supplanted by colliers' cottages. But he\ncalls my attention to the fact, that perhaps the old name was neither\nNelferch nor Alfach, as Elfarch, which would fit equally well, was once\nthe name of a petty chieftain of the adjoining Hundred of Senghenyd,\nfor which he refers me to Clark's Glamorgan Genealogies, p. 511. But\nI have to thank him more especially for a longer version of the fairy\nwife's call to her cattle, as given in Glanffrwd's Plwyf Llanwyno,\n'the Parish of Llanwynno' (Pontyprid, 1888), p. 117, as follows:--\n\n\n                    Prw me, prw me,\n                    Prw 'ngwartheg i dre';\n                    Prw Melen a Ioco,\n                    Tegwen a Rhudo,\n                    Rhud-frech a Moel-frech,\n                    Pedair Lliain-frech;\n                    Lliain-frech ag Eli,\n                    A phedair Wen-ladi,\n                    Ladi a Chornwen,\n                    A phedair Wynebwen;\n                    Nepwen a Rhwynog,\n                    Tali Lieiniog;\n                    Brech yn y Glyn\n                    Dal yn dyn;\n                    Tair lygeityn,\n                    Tair gyffredm,\n                Tair Caseg du, draw yn yr eithin,\n                Deuwch i gyd i lys y Brenin;\n                    Bwla, bwla,\n                    Saif yn flaena',\n                Saf yn ol y wraig o'r Ty-fry,\n                Fyth nis godri ngwartheg i!\n\n\nThe last lines--slightly mended--may be rendered:\n\n\n                    Bull, bull!\n                    Stand thou foremost.\n                Back! thou wife of the House up Hill:\n                Never shalt thou milk my cows.\n\n\nThis seems to suggest that the quarrel was about another woman, and\nthat by the time when the fairy came to call her live stock into the\nlake she had been replaced by another woman who came from the Ty-fry,\nor the House up Hill [12]. In that case this version comes closer\nthan any other to the story of Undine supplanted by Bertalda as her\nknight's favourite.\n\nMr. Probert Evans having kindly given me the address of an aged farmer\nwho formerly lived in the valley, my friend, Mr. Llywarch Reynolds,\nwas good enough to visit him. Mr. Reynolds shall report the result\nin his own words, dated January 9, 1899, as follows:--\n\n'I was at Pentyrch this morning, and went to see Mr. David Evans,\nformerly of Cefn Colston.\n\n'The old man is a very fine specimen of the better class of Welsh\nfarmer; is in his eighty-third year; hale and hearty, intelligent,\nand in full possession of his faculties. He was born and bred in the\nRhonda Fechan Valley, and lived there until some forty years ago. He\nhad often heard the lake story from an old aunt of his who lived at\nthe Maerdy Farm (a short distance north of the lake), and who died\na good many years ago, at a very advanced age. He calls the lake\n\"Llyn Elferch,\" and the story, as known to him, has several points in\ncommon with the Llyn y Fan legend, which, however, he did not appear\nto know. He could not give me many details, but the following is the\nsubstance of the story as he knows it:--The young farmer, who lived\nwith his mother at the neighbouring farm, one day saw the lady on\nthe bank of the lake, combing her hair, which reached down to her\nfeet. He fell in love at first sight, and tried to approach her; but\nshe evaded him, and crying out, Dali di dim o fi, cr\u00e2s dy fara! (Thou\nwilt not catch me, thou of the crimped bread), she sank into the\nwater. He saw her on several subsequent occasions, and gave chase,\nbut always with the same result, until at length he got his mother\nto make him some bread which was not baked (or not baked so hard);\nand this he offered to the lady. She then agreed to become his wife,\nsubject to the condition that if he offended her, or disagreed with\nher three times (ar yr ammod, os byssa fa yn 'i chroesi hi dair gwaith)\nshe would leave him and return into the lake with all her belongings.\n\n'1. The first disagreement (croes) was at the funeral of a neighbour,\na man in years, at which the lady gave way to excessive weeping and\nlamentation. The husband expressed surprise and annoyance at this\nexcessive grief for the death of a person not related to them, and\nasked the reason for it; and she replied that she grieved for the\ndefunct on account of the eternal misery that was in store for him\nin the other world.\n\n'2. The second \"croes\" was at the death of an infant child of the\nlady herself, at which she laughed immoderately; and in reply to the\nhusband's remonstrance, she said she did so for joy at her child's\nescape from this wicked world and its passage into a world of bliss.\n\n'3. The third \"croes\" Mr. Evans was unable to call to mind, but\nequally with the other two it showed that the lady was possessed of\npreternatural knowledge; and it resulted in her leaving her husband\nand returning into the lake, taking the cattle, &c., with her. The\naccepted explanation of the name of the lake was Llyn El-ferch [13]\n(= Hela 'r ferch), \"because of the young man chasing the damsel\"\n(hela 'r ferch).\n\n'The following is the cattle-call, as given to me by Mr. Evans'\naged housekeeper, who migrated with the family from Rhonda Fechan\nto Pentyrch:\n\n\n                Prw i, prw e [14],\n                Prw 'ngwartheg sha [= tua] thre';\n                Mil a m\u00f4l a melyn gwtta;\n                Milfach a malfach;\n                Petar [= pedair] llearfach;\n                Llearfach ag aeli;\n                Petar a lafi;\n                Lafi a chornwan [= -w\u00e8n];\n                [...] 'nepwan [= -w\u00e8n],\n                'Nepwan drwynog;\n                Drotwan [= droedwen] litiog;\n                Tair Bryncethin;\n                Tair gyffretin;\n                Tair casag du\n                Draw yn yr ithin [= eithin],\n                Dewch i gyd i lys y brenin.\n\n\n'Mr. Evans told me that Dyffryn Safrwch was considered to be a\ncorruption of Dyffryn Safn yr Hwch, \"Valley of the Sow's Mouth\";\nso that the explanation was not due to a minister with whom I\nforegathered on my tramp near the lake the other day, and from whom\nI heard it first.'\n\nThe similarity between Mr. Evans' version of this legend and that of\nLlyn y Fan Fach, tends to add emphasis to certain points which I had\nbeen inclined to treat as merely accidental. In the Fan Fach legend\nthe young man's mother is a widow, and here he is represented living\nwith his mother. Here also something depends on the young man's bread,\nbut it is abruptly introduced, suggesting that a part of the story\nhas been forgotten. Both stories, however, give one the impression\nthat the bread of the fairies was regarded as always imperfectly\nbaked. In both stories the young man's mother comes to his help with\nher advice. Mr. Evans' version ascribes supernatural knowledge to the\nfairy, though his version fails to support it; and her moralizings\nread considerably later than those which the Fan legend ascribes\nto the fairy wife. Some of these points may be brought under the\nreader's notice later, when he has been familiarized with more facts\nillustrative of the belief in fairies.\n\n\n\n\nIII.\n\nOn returning from South Wales to Carnarvonshire in the summer of\n1881, I tried to discover similar legends connected with the lakes\nof North Wales, beginning with Geirionyd, the waters of which form a\nstream emptying itself into the Conwy, near Trefriw, a little below\nLlanrwst. I only succeeded, however, in finding an old man of the\nname of Pierce Williams, about seventy years of age, who was very\nanxious to talk about 'Bony's' wars, but not about lake ladies. I was\nobliged, in trying to make him understand what I wanted, to use the\nword morforwyn, that is to say in English, 'mermaid'; he then told\nme, that in his younger days he had heard people say that somebody\nhad seen such beings in the Trefriw river. But as my questions were\nleading ones, his evidence is not worth much; however, I feel pretty\nsure that one who knew the neighbourhood of Geirionyd better would\nbe able to find some fragments of interesting legends still existing\nin that wild district.\n\nI was more successful at Llanberis, though what I found, at first,\nwas not much; but it was genuine, and to the point. This is the\nsubstance of it:--An old woman, called Si\u00e2n [15] Dafyd, lived at\nHelfa Fawr, in the dingle called Cwm Brwynog, along the left side of\nwhich you ascend as you go to the top of Snowdon, from the village\nof lower Llanberis, or Coed y Dol, as it is there called. She was a\ncurious old person, who made nice distinctions between the virtues\nof the respective waters of the district: thus, no other would do\nfor her to cure her of the defaid gwylltion [16], or cancerous warts,\nwhich she fancied that she had in her mouth, than that of the spring\nof Tai Bach, near the lake called Llyn Ffynnon y Gwas, though she\nseldom found it out, when she was deceived by a servant who cherished\na convenient opinion of his own, that a drop from a nearer spring\nwould do just as well. Old Si\u00e2n has been dead over thirty-five years,\nbut I have it, on the testimony of two highly trustworthy brothers,\nwho are of her family, and now between sixty and seventy years of\nage, that she used to relate to them how a shepherd, once on a time,\nsaw a fairy maiden (un o'r Tylwyth Teg) on the surface of the tarn\ncalled Llyn Du'r Ardu, and how, from bantering and joking, their\nacquaintance ripened into courtship, when the father and mother of\nthe lake maiden appeared to give the union their sanction, and to\narrange the marriage settlement. This was to the effect that the\nhusband was never to strike his wife with iron, and that she was to\nbring her great wealth with her, consisting of stock of all kinds\nfor his mountain farm. All duly took place, and they lived happily\ntogether until one day, when trying to catch a pony, the husband threw\na bridle to his wife, and the iron in that struck her. It was then\nall over with him, as the wife hurried away with her property into\nthe lake, so that nothing more was seen or heard of her. Here I may\nas well explain that the Llanberis side of the steep, near the top of\nSnowdon, is called Clogwyn du'r Ardu, or the Black Cliff of the Ardu,\nat the bottom of which lies the tarn alluded to as the Black Lake of\nthe Ardu, and near it stands a huge boulder, called Maen du'r Ardu,\nall of which names are curious, as involving the word du, black. Ardu\nitself has much the same meaning, and refers to the whole precipitous\nside of the summit with its dark shadows, and there is a similar Ardu\nnear Nanmor on the Merionethshire side of Bedgelert.\n\nOne of the brothers, I ought to have said, doubts that the lake here\nmentioned was the one in old Si\u00e2n's tale; but he has forgotten which\nit was of the many in the neighbourhood. Both, however, remembered\nanother short story about fairies, which they had heard another old\nwoman relate, namely, Mari Domos Si\u00f4n, who died some thirty years ago:\nit was merely to the effect that a shepherd had once lost his way in\nthe mist on the mountain on the land of Caeau Gwynion, towards Cwellyn\n[17] Lake, and got into a ring where the Tylwyth Teg were dancing:\nit was only after a very hard struggle that he was able, at length,\nto get away from them.\n\nTo this I may add the testimony of a lady, for whose veracity I\ncan vouch, to the effect that, when she was a child in Cwm Brwynog,\nfrom thirty to forty years ago, she and her brothers and sisters used\nto be frequently warned by their mother not to go far away from the\nhouse when there happened to be thick mist on the ground, lest they\nshould come across the Tylwyth Teg dancing, and be carried away to\ntheir abode beneath the lake. They were always, she says, supposed\nto live in the lakes; and the one here alluded to was Llyn Dwythwch,\nwhich is one of those famous for its torgochiaid or chars. The mother\nis still living; but she seems to have long since, like others,\nlost her belief in the fairies.\n\nAfter writing the above, I heard that a brother to the foregoing\nbrothers, namely, Mr. Thomas Davies, of Mur Mawr, Llanberis, remembered\na similar tale. Mr. Davies is now sixty-four, and the persons from\nwhom he heard the tale were the same Si\u00e2n Dafyd of Helfa Fawr, and\nMari Domos Si\u00f4n of Tyn [18] Gadlas, Llanberis: the two women were\nabout seventy years of age when he as a child heard it from them. At\nmy request, a friend of mine, Mr. Hugh D. Jones, of Tyn Gadlas, also\na member of this family, which is one of the oldest perhaps in the\nplace, has taken down from Mr. Davies' mouth all he could remember,\nword for word, as follows:--\n\nYn perthyn i ffarm Bron y Fedw yr oed dyn ifanc wedi cael ei fagu,\nnis gwydent faint cyn eu hamser hwy. Arferai pan yn hogyn fynd i'r\nmynyd yn Cwm Drywenyd a Mynyd y Fedw ar ochr orllewinol y Wydfa i\nfugeilio, a bydai yn taro ar hogan yn y mynyd; ac wrth fynychu gweld\neu gilyd aethant yn ffrindiau mawr. Arferent gyfarfod eu gilyd mewn\nlle neillduol yn Cwm Drywenyd, lle'r oed yr hogan a'r teulu yn byw,\nlle y bydai pob danteithion, chwareuydiaethau a chanu dihafal; ond\nni fydai'r hogyn yn gwneyd i fyny a neb ohonynt ond yr hogan.\n\nDiwed y ffrindiaeth fu carwriaeth, a phan soniod yr hogyn am idi\nbriodi, ni wnai ond ar un amod, sef y bywiai hi hefo fo hyd nes y\ntarawai ef hi a haiarn.\n\nPriodwyd hwy, a buont byw gyda'u gilyd am nifer o flynydoed, a bu\nidynt blant; ac ar dyd marchnad yn Gaernarfon yr oed y gwr a'r wraig\nyn medwl mynd i'r farchnad ar gefn merlod, fel pob ffarmwr yr amser\nhwnnw. Awd i'r mynyd i dal merlyn bob un.\n\nAr waelod Mynyd y Fedw mae llyn o ryw dri-ugain neu gan llath o hyd ac\nugain neu deg llath ar hugain o led, ac y mae ar un ochr ido le t\u00eag,\nfford y bydai'r ceffylau yn rhedeg.\n\nDaliod y gwr ferlyn a rhoes ef i'r wraig i'w dal heb ffrwyn, tra bydai\nef yn dal merlyn arall. Ar ol rhoi ffrwyn yn mhen ei ferlyn ei hun,\ntaflod un arall i'r wraig i roi yn mhen ei merlyn hithau, ac wrth ei\nthaflu tarawod bit y ffrwyn hi yn ei llaw. Gollyngod y wraig y merlyn,\nac aeth ar ei phen i'r llyn, a dyna diwed y briodas.\n\n'To the farm of Bron y Fedw there belonged a son, who grew up to\nbe a young man, the women knew not how long before their time. He\nwas in the habit of going up the mountain to Cwm Drywenyd [19] and\nMynyd y Fedw, on the west side of Snowdon, to do the shepherding,\nand there he was wont to come across a lass on the mountain, so that\nas the result of frequently meeting one another, he and she became\ngreat friends. They usually met at a particular spot in Cwm Drywenyd,\nwhere the girl and her family lived, and where there were all kinds\nof nice things to eat, of amusements, and of incomparable music; but\nhe did not make up to anybody there except the girl. The friendship\nended in courtship; but when the boy mentioned that she should be\nmarried to him, she would only do so on one condition, namely, that\nshe would live with him until he should strike her with iron. They\nwere wedded, and they lived together for a number of years, and had\nchildren. Once on a time it happened to be market day at Carnarvon,\nwhither the husband and wife thought of riding on ponies, like all\nthe farmers of that time. So they went to the mountain to catch a\npony each. At the bottom of Mynyd y Fedw there is a pool some sixty\nor one hundred yards long by twenty or thirty broad, and on one side\nof it there is a level space along which the horses used to run. The\nhusband caught a pony, and gave it to the wife to hold fast without\na bridle, while he should catch another. When he had bridled his own\npony, he threw another bridle to his wife for her to secure hers;\nbut as he threw it, the bit of the bridle struck her on one of her\nhands. The wife let go the pony, and went headlong into the pool,\nand that was the end of their wedded life.'\n\nThe following is a later tale, which Mr. Thomas Davies heard from\nhis mother, who died in 1832: she would be ninety years of age had\nshe been still living:--\n\nPan oed hi'n hogan yn yr Hafod, Llanberis, yr oed hogan at ei hoed hi'n\ncael ei magu yn Cwmglas, Llanberis, ac arferai dweyd, pan yn hogan a\nthra y bu byw, y bydai yn cael arian gan y Tylwyth Teg yn Cwm Cwmglas.\n\nYr oed yn dweyd y bydai ar foreuau niwliog, tywyll, yn mynd i le\npenodol yn Cwm Cwmglas gyda dsygiad o lefrith o'r fuches a thywel\nglan, ac yn ei rodi ar garreg; ac yn mynd yno drachefn, ac yn cael\ny llestr yn wag, gyda darn deuswllt neu hanner coron ac weithiau fwy\nwrth ei ochr.\n\n'When she was a girl, living at Yr Hafod, Llanberis, there was a\ngirl of her age being brought up at Cwmglas in the same parish. The\nlatter was in the habit of saying, when she was a girl and so long\nas she lived, that she used to have money from the Tylwyth Teg, in\nthe Cwmglas Hollow. Her account was, that on dark, misty mornings she\nused to go to a particular spot in that Hollow with a jugful of sweet\nmilk from the milking place, and a clean towel, and then place them\non a stone. She would return, and find the jug empty, with a piece\nof money placed by its side: that is, two shillings or half a crown,\nor at times even more.'\n\nA daughter of that woman lives now at a farm, Mr. Davies observes,\ncalled Plas Pennant, in the parish of Llanfihangel yn Mhennant, in\nCarnarvonshire; and he adds, that it was a tale of a kind that was\ncommon enough when he was a boy; but many laughed at it, though the old\npeople believed it to be a fact. To this I may as well append another\ntale, which was brought to the memory of an old man who happened to be\npresent when Mr. Jones and Mr. Davies were busy with the foregoing. His\nname is John Roberts, and his age is seventy-five: his present home\nis at Capel S\u00efon, in the neighbouring parish of Llandeiniolen:--\n\nYr oed ef pan yn hogyn yn gweini yn Towyn Trewern, yn agos i Gaergybi,\ngyda hen wr o'r enw Owen Owens, oed yr adeg honno at ei oed ef yn\nbresennol.\n\nYr oedynt unwaith mewn hen adeilad ar y ffarm; a dywedod yr hen\nwr ei fod ef wedi cael llawer o arian yn y lle hwnnw pan yn hogyn,\na buasai wedi cael ychwaneg oni bai ei dad.\n\nYr oed wedi cudio yr arian yn y ty, ond daeth ei fam o hyd idynt,\na dywedod yr hanes wrth ei dad. Ofnai ei fod yn fachgen drwg, mai\neu lladrata yr oed. Dywedai ei dad y gwnai ido dweyd yn mha le yr\noed yn eu cael, neu y tynnai ei groen tros ei ben; ac aeth allan a\nthorod wialen bwrpasol at orchwyl o'r fath.\n\nYr oed y bachgen yn gwrando ar yr ymdidan rhwng ei dad a'i fam, ac\nyr oed yn benderfynol o gadw'r peth yn dirgelwch fel yr oed wedi ei\nrybudio gan y Tylwyth Teg.\n\nAeth i'r ty, a dechreuod y tad ei holi, ac yntau yn gwrthod ateb;\nymbiliai a'i dad, a dywedai eu bod yn berffaith onest ido ef, ac\ny cai ef ychwaneg os cadwai'r peth yn dirgelwch; ond os dywedai,\nnad oed dim ychwaneg i'w gael. Mod bynnag ni wrandawai y tad ar ei\nesgusion na'i resymau, a'r wialen a orfu; dywedod y bachgen mai gan\ny Tylwyth Teg yr oed yn eu cael, a hynny ar yr amod nad oed i dweyd\nwrth neb. Mawr oed edifeirwch yr hen bobl am lad yr wyd oed yn dodwy.\n\nAeth y bachgen i'r hen adeilad lawer gwaith ar ol hyn, ond ni chafod\nbyth ychwaneg o arian yno.\n\n'When a lad, he was a servant at Towyn Trewern, near Holyhead, to\nan old man about his own age at present. They were one day in an\nold building on the farm, and the old man told him that he had had\nmuch money in that place when he was a lad, and that he would have\nhad more had it not been for his father. He had hidden the money at\nhome, where his mother found it and told his father of the affair:\nshe feared he was a bad boy, and that it was by theft he got it. His\nfather said that he would make him say where he got it, or else that\nhe would strip him of the skin of his back, at the same time that he\nwent out and cut a rod fit for effecting a purpose of the kind. The\nboy heard all this talk between his father and his mother, and felt\ndetermined to keep the matter a secret, as he had been warned by the\nTylwyth Teg. He went into the house, and his father began to question\nhim, while he refused to answer. He supplicatingly protested that\nthe money was honestly got, and that he should get more if he kept\nit a secret, but that, if he did not, there would be no more to be\ngot. However, the father would give no ear to his excuses or his\nreasons, and the rod prevailed; so that the boy said that it was from\nthe Tylwyth Teg he used to get it, and that on condition of his not\ntelling anybody. Greatly did the old folks regret having killed the\ngoose that laid the eggs. The boy went many a time afterwards to the\nold building, but he never found any more money there.'\n\n\n\n\nIV.\n\nThrough the Rev. Daniel Lewis, incumbent of Bettws Garmon, I was\ndirected to Mr. Samuel Rhys Williams, of the Post Office of that place,\nwho has kindly given me the result of his inquiries when writing on\nthe subject of the antiquities of the neighbourhood for a competition\nat a literary meeting held there a few years ago. He tells me that he\ngot the following short tale from a native of Drws y Coed, whose name\nis Margaret Williams. She has been living at Bettws Garmon for many\nyears, and is now over eighty. He does not know whether the story is in\nprint or not, but he is certain that Margaret Williams never saw it,\neven if it be. He further thinks he has heard it from another person,\nto wit a man over seventy-seven years of age, who has always lived\nat Drws y Coed, in the parish of Bedgelert:--\n\nY mae hanes am fab i amaethwr a breswyliai yn yr Ystrad [20], Betws\nGarmon [21], pan yn dychwelyd adref o daith yn hwyr un noswaith,\ndarfod ido weled cwmni o'r Tylwyth Teg ynghanol eu hafiaeth a'u\nglodest. Syfrdanwyd y llanc yn y fan gan degwch anghymarol un o'r\nrhianod hyn, fel y beidiod neidio i ganol y cylch, a chymeryd ei eilun\ngydag ef. Wedi idi fod yn trigo gydag ef yn ei gartref am ysbaid,\ncafod gandi adaw bod yn wraig ido ar amodau neillduol. Un o'r amodau\nhyn ydoed, na bydai ido gyffwrd yndi ag un math o haiarn. Bu yn wraig\nido, a ganwyd idynt dau o blant. Un diwrnod yr oed y gwr yn y maes yn\nceisio dal y ceffyl; wrth ei weled yn ffaelu, aeth y wraig ato i'w\ngynorthwyo, a phan oed y march yn carlamu heibio gollyngod yntau y\nffrwyn o'i law, er mwyn ceisio ei atal heibio; a phwy a darawod ond\nei wraig, yr hon a diflannod yn y fan allan o'i olwg?\n\n'The story goes, that the son of a farmer, who lived at the Ystrad\nin Bettws Garmon, when returning home from a journey, late in the\nevening, beheld a company of fairies in the middle of their mirth and\njollity. The youth was at once bewildered by the incomparable beauty of\none of these ladies, so that he ventured to leap into the circle and\ntake his idol away with him. After she had tarried awhile with him at\nhis home, he prevailed on her, on special conditions, to become his\nwife. One of these conditions was that he should not touch her with\niron of any description. She became his wife, and two children were\nborn to them. One day the husband was in the field trying to catch\nthe horse; seeing him unsuccessful, the wife went to him to help him,\nand, when the horse was galloping past him, he let go the bridle at\nhim in order to prevent him from passing; but whom should he strike\nbut his wife, who vanished out of his sight on the spot.'\n\nJust as I was engaged in collecting these stories in 1881, a\ncorrespondent sent me a copy of the Ystrad tale as published by\nthe late bard and antiquary, the Rev. Owen Wyn Jones, better known\nin Wales by his bardic name of Glasynys [22], in the Brython [23]\nfor 1863, p. 193. I will not attempt to translate Glasynys' poetic\nprose with all its compound adjectives, but it comes to this in a\nfew words. One fine sunny morning, as the young heir of Ystrad was\nbusied with his sheep on the side of Moel Eilio, he met a very pretty\ngirl, and when he got home he told the folks there of it. A few\ndays afterwards he met her again, and this happened several times,\nwhen he mentioned it to his father, who advised him to seize her\nwhen he next met her. The next time he met her he proceeded to do\nso, but before he could take her away, a little fat old man came to\nthem and begged him to give her back to him, to which the youth would\nnot listen. The little man uttered terrible threats, but the heir of\nYstrad would not yield, so an agreement was made between them, that\nthe latter was to have the girl to wife until he touched her skin\nwith iron, and great was the joy both of the son and his parents in\nconsequence. They lived together for many years; but once on a time,\non the evening of the Bettws Fair, the wife's horse became restive,\nand somehow, as the husband was attending to the horse, the stirrup\ntouched the skin of her bare leg, and that very night she was taken\naway from him. She had three or four children, and more than one of\ntheir descendants, as Glasynys maintains, were known to him at the\ntime he wrote in 1863. Glasynys regards this as the same tale which\nis given by Williams of Llandegai, to whom we shall refer later;\nand he says that he heard it scores of times when he was a lad.\n\nLastly, I happened to mention these legends last summer among others to\nthe Rev. Owen Davies, curate of Llanberis, a man who is well versed\nin Welsh literature, and thoroughly in sympathy with everything\nWelsh. Mr. Davies told me that he knew a tale of the sort from his\nyouth, as current in the parishes of Llanllechid and Llandegai,\nnear Bangor. Not long afterwards he visited his mother at his native\nplace, in Llanllechid, in order to have his memory of it refreshed;\nand he also went to the Waen Fawr, on the other side of Carnarvon,\nwhere he had the same legend told him with the different localities\nspecified. The following is the Waen Fawr version, of which I give\nthe Welsh as I have had it from Mr. Davies, and as it was related,\naccording to him, some forty years ago in the valley of Nant y Bettws,\nnear Carnarvon:--\n\nAr brydnawngwaith hyfryd yn Hefin, aeth llanc ieuanc gwrol-dewr ac\nanturiaethus, sef etifed a pherchennog yr Ystrad, i lan afon Gwyrfai,\nheb fod yn nepell o'i chychwyniad o lyn Cawellyn, ac a ymgudiod yno\nmewn dyryslwyn, sef ger y fan y bydai poblach y cotiau cochion--y\nTylwyth Teg--yn arfer dawnsio. Yr ydoed yn noswaith hyfryd loergannog,\nheb un cwmwl i gau llygaid y Lloer, ac anian yn distaw dawedog,\nodigerth murmuriad lledf y Wyrfai, a swn yr awel ysgafndroed yn\nrhodio brigau deiliog y coed. Ni bu yn ei ymgudfa ond dros ychydig\namser, cyn cael difyrru o hono ei olygon a dawns y teulu dedwyd. Wrth\nsyllu ar gywreinrwyd y dawns, y chwim droadau cyflym, yr ymgyniweiriad\nysgafn-droediog, tarawod ei lygaid ar las lodes ieuanc, dlysaf, hardaf,\nlunieidiaf a welod er ei febyd. Yr oed ei chwim droadau a lledneisrwyd\nei hagwedion wedi tanio ei serch tu ag ati i'r fath radau, fel ag yr\noed yn barod i unrhyw anturiaeth er mwyn ei hennill yn gydymaith ido\nei hun. O'i ymgudfa dywyll, yr oed yn gwylio pob ysgogiad er mwyn\nei gyfleustra ei hun. Mewn mynud, yn disymwth digon, rhwng pryder\nac ofn, llamneidiod fel llew gwrol i ganol cylch y Tylwyth Teg, ac\nymafaelod a dwylaw cariad yn y fun luniaid a daniod ei serch, a hynny,\npan oed y Tylwyth dedwyd yn nghanol nwyfiant eu dawns. Cofleidiod hi\nyn dyner garedig yn ei fynwes wresog, ac aeth a hi i'w gartref--i'r\nYstrad. Ond diflannod ei chyd-dawnsydion fel anadl Gorphennaf, er\nei chroch dolefau am gael ei rhydhau, a'i hymegnion diflino i dianc\no afael yr hwn a'i hoffod. Mewn anwylder mawr, ymdygod y llanc yn\ndyner odiaethol tu ag at y fun deg, ac yr oed yn orawydus i'w chadw\nyn ei olwg ac yn ei fediant. Llwydod drwy ei dynerwch tu ag ati i\ngael gandi adaw dyfod yn forwyn ido yn yr Ystrad. A morwyn ragorol\noed hi. Godrai deirgwaith y swm arferol o laeth odiar bob buwch, ac\nyr oed yr ymenyn heb bwys arno. Ond er ei holl daerni, nis gallai\nmewn un mod gael gandi dyweud ei henw wrtho. Gwnaeth lawer cais,\nond yn gwbl ofer. Yn damweiniol ryw dro, wrth yrru\n\n\n        Brithen a'r Benwen i'r borfa,\n\n\na hi yn noswaith loergan, efe a aeth i'r man lle yr arferai y Tylwyth\nTeg fyned drwy eu campau yng ngoleuni'r Lloer wen. Y tro hwn eto, efe\na ymgudiod mewn dyryslwyn, a chlywod y Tylwyth Teg yn dywedyd y naill\nwrth y llall--'Pan oedym ni yn y lle hwn y tro diwedaf, dygwyd ein\nchwaer Penelope odiarnom gan un o'r marwolion.' Ar hynny, dychwelod\ny llencyn adref, a'i fynwes yn llawn o falchder cariad, o herwyd ido\ngael gwybod enw ei hoff forwyn, yr hon a synnod yn aruthr, pan glywod\nei meistr ieuanc yn ei galw wrth ei henw. Ac am ei bod yn odiaethol\ndlos, a lluniaid, yn fywiog-weithgar, a medrus ar bob gwaith, a bod\npopeth yn llwydo dan ei llaw, cynygiod ei hun idi yn wr--y celai fod yn\nfeistres yr Ystrad, yn lle bod yn forwyn. Ond ni chydsyniai hi a'i gais\nar un cyfrif; ond bod braid yn bendrist oherwyd ido wybod ei henw. Fod\nbynnag, gwedi maith amser, a thrwy ei daerineb diflino, cydsyniod,\nond yn amodol. Adawod dyfod yn wraig ido, ar yr amod canlynol, sef,\n'Pa bryd bynnag y tarawai ef hi \u00e2 haiarn, yr elai ymaith odi wrtho,\nac na dychwelai byth ato mwy.' Sicrhawyd yr amod o'i du yntau gyda\npharodrwyd cariad. Buont yn cyd-fyw a'u gilyd yn hapus a chysurus\nlawer o flynydoed, a ganwyd idynt fab a merch, y rhai oedynt dlysaf\na llunieidiaf yn yr holl froyd. Ac yn rhinwed ei medrusrwyd a'i\ndeheurwyd fel gwraig gall, rinwedol, aethant yn gyfoethog iawn--yn\ngyfoethocach na neb yn yr holl wlad. Heblaw ei etifediaeth ei hun--Yr\nYstrad, yr oed yn ffarmio holl ogled-barth Nant y Betws, ac odi yno\ni ben yr Wydfa, ynghyd a holl Gwm Brwynog, yn mhlwyf Llanberis. Ond,\nryw diwrnod, yn anffortunus digon aeth y dau i'r dol i dal y ceffyl,\na chan fod y ceffylyn braid yn wyllt ac an-nof, yn rhedeg odi arnynt,\ntaflod y gwr y ffrwyn mewn gwylltineb yn ei erbyn, er ei atal, ac ar\nbwy y disgynnod y ffrwyn, ond ar Penelope, y wraig! Diflannod Penelope\nyn y fan, ac ni welod byth mo honi. Ond ryw noswaith, a'r gwynt yn\nchwythu yn oer o'r gogled, daeth Penelope at ffenestr ei ystafell wely,\na dywedod wrtho am gymmeryd gofal o'r plant yn y geiriau hyn:\n\n\n        Rhag bod anwyd ar fy mab,\n        Yn rhod rhowch arno g\u00f3b ei dad;\n        Rhag bod anwyd ar liw'r can,\n        Rhodwch arni bais ei mham.\n\n\nAc yna ciliod, ac ni chlywyd na siw na miw byth yn ei chylch.\n\nFor the sake of an occasional reader who does not know Welsh, I add\na summary of it in English.\n\nOne fine evening in the month of June a brave, adventurous youth, the\nheir of Ystrad, went to the banks of the Gwyrfai, not far from where it\nleaves Cwellyn Lake, and hid himself in the bushes near the spot where\nthe folks of the Red Coats--the fairies--were wont to dance. The moon\nshone forth brightly without a cloud to intercept her light; all was\nquiet save where the Gwyrfai gently murmured on her bed, and it was\nnot long before the young man had the satisfaction of seeing the fair\nfamily dancing in full swing. As he gazed on the subtle course of the\ndance, his eyes rested on a damsel, the most shapely and beautiful he\nhad seen from his boyhood. Her agile movements and the charm of her\nlooks inflamed him with love for her, to such a degree that he felt\nready for any encounter in order to secure her to be his own. From his\nhiding place he watched every move for his opportunity; at last, with\nfeelings of anxiety and dread, he leaped suddenly into the middle of\nthe circle of the fairies. There, while their enjoyment of the dance\nwas at its height, he seized her in his arms and carried her away to\nhis home at Ystrad. But, as she screamed for help to free her from\nthe grasp of him who had fallen in love with her, the dancing party\ndisappeared like one's breath in July. He treated her with the utmost\nkindness, and was ever anxious to keep her within his sight and in\nhis possession. By dint of tenderness he succeeded so far as to get\nher to consent to be his servant at Ystrad. And such a servant she\nturned out to be! Why, she was wont to milk the cows thrice a day,\nand to have the usual quantity of milk each time, so that the butter\nwas so plentiful that nobody thought of weighing it. As to her name,\nin spite of all his endeavours to ascertain it, she would never tell\nit him. Accidentally, however, one moonlight night, when driving two\nof his cows to the spot where they should graze, he came to the place\nwhere the fairies were wont to enjoy their games in the light of the\nmoon. This time also he hid himself in a thicket, when he overheard one\nfairy saying to another, 'When we were last here our sister Penelope\nwas stolen from us by a man.' As soon as he heard this off he went\nhome, full of joy because he had discovered the name of the maid that\nwas so dear to him. She, on the other hand, was greatly astonished to\nhear him call her by her own name. As she was so charmingly pretty,\nso industrious, so skilled in every work, and so attended by luck in\neverything she put her hand to, he offered to make her his wife instead\nof being his servant. At first she would in no wise consent, but she\nrather gave way to grief at his having found her name out. However,\nhis importunity at length brought her to consent, but on the condition\nthat he should not strike her with iron; if that should happen, she\nwould quit him never to return. The agreement was made on his side\nwith the readiness of love, and after this they lived in happiness\nand comfort together for many years, and there were born to them a\nson and a daughter, who were the handsomest children in the whole\ncountry. Owing, also, to the skill and good qualities of the woman,\nas a shrewd and virtuous wife, they became very rich--richer, indeed,\nthan anybody else in the country around; for, besides the husband's own\ninheritance of Ystrad, he held all the northern part of Nant y Bettws,\nand all from there to the top of Snowdon, together with Cwm Brwynog\nin the parish of Llanberis. But one day, as bad luck would have it,\nthey went out together to catch a horse in the field, and, as the\nanimal was somewhat wild and untamed, they had no easy work before\nthem. In his rashness the man threw a bridle at him as he was rushing\npast him, but alas! on whom should the bridle fall but on the wife! No\nsooner had this happened than she disappeared, and nothing more was\never seen of her. But one cold night, when there was a chilling wind\nblowing from the north, she came near the window of his bedroom,\nand told him in these words to take care of the children:--\n\n\n        Lest my son should find it cold,\n        Place on him his father's coat:\n        Lest the fair one find it cold,\n        Place on her my petticoat.\n\n\nThen she withdrew, and nothing more was heard of her.\n\nIn reply to some queries of mine, Mr. O. Davies tells me that Penelope\nwas pronounced in three syllables, P\u00e9nel\u00f4p--so he heard it from his\ngrandfather: he goes on to say that the offspring of the Lake Lady\nis supposed to be represented by a family called Pellings, which was\nonce a highly respected name in those parts, and that there was a\nLady Bulkeley who was of this descent, not to mention that several\npeople of a lower rank, both in Anglesey and Arfon, claimed to be of\nthe same origin. I am not very clear as to how the name got into this\ntale, nor have I been able to learn anything about the Pellings; but,\nas the word appears to have been regarded as a corrupt derivative\nfrom Penelope, that is, perhaps, all the connexion, so that it may\nbe that it has really nothing whatever to do with the legend. This\nis a point, however, which the antiquaries of North Wales ought to\nbe able to clear up satisfactorily.\n\nIn reply to queries of mine, Mr. O. Davies gave me the following\nparticulars:--'I am now (June, 1881) over fifty-two years of age, and I\ncan assure you that I have heard the legend forty years ago. I do not\nremember my father, as he died when I was young, but my grandfather\nwas remarkable for his delight in tales and legends, and it was his\nfavourite pastime during the winter nights, after getting his short\nblack pipe ready, to relate stories about struggles with robbers, about\nbogies, and above all about the Tylwyth Teg; for they were his chief\ndelight. He has been dead twenty-six years, and he had almost reached\neighty years of age. His father before him, who was born about the\nyear 1740, was also famous for his stories, and my grandfather often\nmentioned him as his authority in the course of his narration of the\ntales. Both he and the rest of the family used to look at Corwrion,\nto be mentioned presently, as a sacred spot. When I was a lad and\nhappened to be reluctant to leave off playing at dusk, my mother or\ngrandfather had only to say that 'the Pellings were coming,' in order\nto induce me to come into the house at once: indeed, this announcement\nhad the same effect on persons of a much riper age than mine then was.'\n\nFurther, Mr. Davies kindly called my attention to a volume, entitled\nObservations on the Snowdon Mountains, by Mr. William Williams,\nof Llandegai, published in London in 1802. In that work this tale\nis given somewhat less fully than by Mr. Davies' informant, but the\nauthor makes the following remarks with regard to it, pp. 37, 40:--'A\nrace of people inhabiting the districts about the foot of Snowdon,\nwere formerly distinguished and known by the nickname of Pellings,\nwhich is not yet extinct. There are several persons and even families\nwho are reputed to be descended from these people.... These children\n[Penelope's] and their descendants, they say, were called Pellings,\na word corrupted from their mother's name, Penelope. The late Thomas\nRowlands, Esq., of Caerau, in Anglesey, the father of the late Lady\nBulkeley, was a descendant of this lady, if it be true that the name\nPellings came from her; and there are still living several opulent and\nrespectable people who are known to have sprung from the Pellings. The\nbest blood in my own veins is this fairy's.'\n\nLastly, it will be noticed that these last versions do not distinctly\nsuggest that the Lake Lady ran into the lake, that is into Cwellyn,\nbut rather that she disappeared in the same way as the dancing party\nby simply becoming invisible like one's breath in July. The fairies\nare called in Welsh, Y Tylwyth Teg, or the Fair Family; but the\npeople of Arfon have been so familiarized with the particular one I\nhave called the Lake Lady, that, according to one of my informants,\nthey have invented the term Y Dylwythes Deg, or even Y Dylwythen Deg,\nto denote her; but it is unknown to the others, so that the extent\nof its use is not very considerable.\n\nThis is, perhaps, the place to give another tale, according to which\nthe man goes to the Lake Maiden's country, instead of her settling\nwith him at his home. I owe it to the kindness of Mr. William Jones,\nof Regent Place, Llangollen, a native of Bedgelert. He heard it from\nan old man before he left Bedgelert, but when he sent a friend to\ninquire some time afterwards, the old man was gone. According to\nMr. Jones, the details of the tale are, for that reason, imperfect,\nas some of the incidents have faded from his memory; but such as he\ncan still remember the tale, it is here given in his own words:--\n\nRyw noson lawn lloer ac un o feibion Llwyn On yn Nant y Betws yn\nmyned i garu i Glogwyn y Gwin, efe a welod y Tylwyth yn ymlodestu a\ndawnsio ei hochr hi ar weirglod wrth lan Llyn Cawellyn. Efe a nesaod\ntuag atynt; ac o dipyn i beth fe'i llithiwyd gan bereiddra swynol eu\ncanu a hoender a bywiogrwyd eu chwareu, nes myned o hono tu fewn i'r\ncylch; ac yn fuan fe daeth rhyw hud drosto, fel y collod adnabydiaeth\no bobman; a chafod ei hun mewn gwlad hardaf a welod erioed, lle'r oed\npawb yn treulio eu hamser mewn afiaeth a gorfoled. Yr oed wedi bod yno\nam saith mlyned, ac eto nid oed dim ond megis breudwyd nos; ond daeth\nadgof i'w fedwl am ei neges, a hiraeth yndo am weled ei anwylyd. Felly\nefe a ofynod ganiatad i dychwelyd adref, yr hyn a rodwyd ynghyd a llu o\ngymdeithion i'w arwain tua'i wlad; ac yn disymwth cafod ei hun fel yn\ndeffro o freudwyd ar y dol, lle gwelod y Tylwyth Teg yn chwareu. Trod\nei wyneb tuag adref; ond wedi myned yno yr oed popeth wedi newid,\nei rieni wedi meirw, ei frodyr yn ffaelu ei adnabod, a'i gariad wedi\npriodi un arall.--Ar ol y fath gyfnewidiadau efe a dorod ei galon,\nac a fu farw mewn llai nag wythnos ar ol ei dychweliad.\n\n'One bright moonlight night, as one of the sons of the farmer who lived\nat Llwyn On in Nant y Bettws was going to pay his addresses to a girl\nat Clogwyn y Gwin, he beheld the Tylwyth Teg enjoying themselves in\nfull swing on a meadow close to Cwellyn Lake. He approached them, and\nlittle by little he was led on by the enchanting sweetness of their\nmusic and the liveliness of their playing until he had got within\ntheir circle. Soon some kind of spell passed over him, so that he lost\nhis knowledge of the place, and found himself in a country, the most\nbeautiful he had ever seen, where everybody spent his time in mirth\nand rejoicing. He had been there seven years, and yet it seemed to\nhim but a night's dream; but a faint recollection came to his mind of\nthe business on which he had left home, and he felt a longing to see\nhis beloved one. So he went and asked for permission to return home,\nwhich was granted him, together with a host of attendants to lead\nhim to his country; and, suddenly, he found himself, as if waking\nfrom a dream, on the bank where he had seen the fair family amusing\nthemselves. He turned towards home, but there he found everything\nchanged: his parents were dead, his brothers could not recognize him,\nand his sweetheart was married to another man. In consequence of such\nchanges he died broken-hearted in less than a week after coming back.'\n\n\n\n\nV.\n\nThe Rev. O. Davies regarded the Llanllechid legend as so very like\nthe one he got about Cwellyn Lake and the Waen Fawr, that he has not\nwritten the former out at length, but merely pointed out the following\ndifferences: (1) Instead of Cwellyn, the lake in the former is the\npool of Corwrion, in the parish of Llandegai, near Bangor. (2) What\nthe Lake Lady was struck with was not a bridle, but an iron fetter:\nthe word used is llyfether, which probably means a long fetter\nconnecting a fore-foot and a hind-foot of a horse together. In Arfon,\nthe word is applied also to a cord tying the two fore-feet together,\nbut in Cardiganshire this would be called a hual, the other word,\nthere pronounced llowethir, being confined to the long fetter. In\nbooks, the word is written llywethair, llefethair and llyffethair\nor llyffethar, which is possibly the pronunciation in parts of North\nWales, especially Arfon. This is an interesting word, as it is no other\nthan the English term 'long fetter,' borrowed into Welsh; as, in fact,\nit was also into Irish early enough to call for an article on it in\nCormac's Irish Glossary, where langfiter is described as an English\nword for a fetter between the fore and the hind legs: in Anglo-Manx it\nis become lanketer. (3) The field in which they were trying to catch\nthe horse is, in the Llanllechid version, specified as that called\nMaes Madog, at the foot of the Llefn. (4) When the fairy wife ran\naway, it was headlong into the pool of Corwrion, calling after her\nall her milch cows, and they followed her with the utmost readiness.\n\nBefore going on to mention bits of information I have received from\nothers about the Llanllechid legend, I think it best here to finish\nwith the items given me by Mr. O. Davies, whom I cannot too cordially\nthank for his readiness to answer my questions. Among other things,\nhe expresses himself to the following effect:-- 'It is to this day\na tradition--and I have heard it a hundred times--that the dairy of\nCorwrion excelled all other dairies in those parts, that the milk\nwas better and more plentiful, and that the cheese and butter were\nbetter there than in all the country round, the reason assigned being\nthat the cattle on the farm of Corwrion had mixed with the breed\nbelonging to the fairy, who had run away after being struck with the\niron fetter. However that may be, I remember perfectly well the high\nterms of praise in which the cows of Corwrion used to be spoken of\nas being remarkable for their milk and the profit they yielded; and,\nwhen I was a boy, I used to hear people talk of Tarw Penwyn Corwrion,\nor \"the White-headed Bull of Corwrion,\" as derived from the breed of\ncattle which had formed the fairy maiden's dowry.'\n\nMy next informant is Mr. Hugh Derfel Hughes, of Pendinas, Llandegai\n[24], who has been kind enough to give me the version, of which I here\ngive the substance in English, premising that Mr. Hughes says that\nhe has lived about thirty-four years within a mile of the pool and\nfarm house called Corwrion, and that he has refreshed his memory of\nthe legend by questioning separately no less than three old people,\nwho had been bred and born at or near that spot. He is a native of\nMerioneth, but has lived at Llandegai for the last thirty-seven years,\nhis age now being sixty-six. I may add that Mr. Hughes is a local\nantiquary of great industry and zeal; and that he published a book\non the antiquities of the district, under the title of Hynafiaethau\nLlandegai a Llanllechid, that is 'the Antiquities of Llandegai and\nLlanllechid' (Bethesda, 1866); but it is out of print, and I have\nhad some trouble to procure a copy:--\n\n'In old times, when the fairies showed themselves much oftener to\nmen than they do now, they made their home in the bottomless pool\nof Corwrion, in Upper Arllechwed, in that wild portion of Gwyned\ncalled Arfon. On fine mornings in the month of June these diminutive\nand nimble folk might be seen in a regular line vigorously engaged\nin mowing hay, with their cattle in herds busily grazing in the\nfields near Corwrion. This was a sight which often met the eyes\nof the people on the sides of the hills around, even on Sundays;\nbut when they hurried down to them they found the fields empty, with\nthe sham workmen and their cows gone, all gone. At other times they\nmight be heard hammering away like miners, shovelling rubbish aside,\nor emptying their carts of stones. At times they took to singing\nall the night long, greatly to the delight of the people about,\nwho dearly loved to hear them; and, besides singing so charmingly,\nthey sometimes formed into companies for dancing, and their movements\nwere marvellously graceful and attractive. But it was not safe to\ngo too near the lake late at night, for once a brave girl, who was\ntroubled with toothache, got up at midnight and went to the brink\nof the water in search of the root of a plant that grows there full\nof the power to kill all pain in the teeth. But, as she was plucking\nup a bit of it, there burst on her ear, from the depths of the lake,\nsuch a shriek as drove her back into the house breathless with fear\nand trembling; but whether this was not the doing of a stray fairy,\nwho had been frightened out of her wits at being suddenly overtaken by\na damsel in her nightdress, or the ordinary fairy way of curing the\ntoothache, tradition does not tell. For sometimes, at any rate, the\nfairies busied themselves in doing good to the men and women who were\ntheir neighbours, as when they tried to teach them to keep all promises\nand covenants to which they pledged themselves. A certain man and his\nwife, to whom they wished to teach this good habit, have never been\nforgotten. The husband had been behaving as he ought, until one day,\nas he held the plough, with the wife guiding his team, he broke his\ncovenant towards her by treating her harshly and unkindly. No sooner\nhad he done so, than he was snatched through the air and plunged in the\nlake. When the wife went to the brink of the water to ask for him back,\nthe reply she had was, that he was there, and that there he should be.\n\n'The fairies when engaged in dancing allowed themselves to be gazed\nat, a sight which was wont greatly to attract the young men of the\nneighbourhood, and once on a time the son and heir of the owner of\nCorwrion fell deeply in love with one of the graceful maidens who\ndanced in the fairy ring, for she was wondrously beautiful and pretty\nbeyond compare. His passion for her ere long resulted in courtship,\nand soon in their being married, which took place on the express\nunderstanding, that firstly the husband was not to know her name,\nthough he might give her any name he chose; and, secondly, that he\nmight now and then beat her with a rod, if she chanced to misbehave\ntowards him; but he was not to strike her with iron on pain of her\nleaving him at once. This covenant was kept for some years, so that\nthey lived happily together and had four children, of whom the two\nyoungest were a boy and a girl. But one day as they went to one of the\nfields of Bryn Twrw in the direction of Pennard Gron, to catch a pony,\nthe fairy wife, being so much nimbler than her husband, ran before\nhim and had her hand in the pony's mane in no time. She called out\nto her husband to throw her a halter, but instead of that he threw\ntowards her a bridle with an iron bit, which, as bad luck would have\nit, struck her. The wife at once flew through the air, and plunged\nheadlong into Corwrion Pool. The husband returned sighing and weeping\ntowards Bryn Twrw, \"Noise Hill,\" and when he had reached it, the twrw,\n\"noise,\" there was greater than had ever been heard before, namely that\nof weeping after \"Belen\u00eb\"; and it was then, after he had struck her\nwith iron, that he first learnt what his wife's name was. Belen\u00eb never\ncame back to her husband, but the feelings of a mother once brought her\nto the window of his bedroom, where she gave him the following order:--\n\n\n    Os byd anwyd ar fy mab,         If my son should feel it cold,\n    Rho'wch am dano gob ei dad;     Let him wear his father's coat;\n    Os anwydog a fyd can [25],      If the fair one feel the cold,\n    Rho'wch am dani bais ei mam.    Let her wear my petticoat.\n\n\n'As years and years rolled on a grandson of Belen\u00eb's fell in love with\na beautiful damsel who lived at a neighbouring farm house called Tai\nTeulwriaid, and against the will of his father and mother they married,\nbut they had nothing to stock their land with. So one morning what was\ntheir astonishment, when they got up, to see grazing quietly in the\nfield six black cows and a white-headed bull, which had come up out\nof the lake as stock for them from old grannie Belen\u00eb? They served\nthem well with milk and butter for many a long year, but on the day\nthe last of the family died, the six black cows and the white-headed\nbull disappeared into the lake, never more to be seen.'\n\nMr. Hughes referred to no less than three other versions, as\nfollows:--(1) According to one account, the husband was ploughing,\nwith the wife leading the team, when by chance he came across her\nand the accident happened. The wife then flew away like a wood-hen\n(iar goed) into the lake. (2) Another says that they were in a stable\ntrying to bridle one of the horses, when the misfortune took place\nthrough inadvertence. (3) A third specifies the field in front of the\nhouse at Corwrion as the place where the final accident took place,\nwhen they were busied with the cows and horses.\n\nTo these I would add the following traditions, which Mr. Hughes further\ngives. Sometimes the inhabitants, who seem to have been on the whole\non good terms with the fairies, used to heat water and leave it in a\nvessel on the hearth overnight for the fairies to wash their children\nin it. This they considered such a kindness that they always left\nbehind them on the hearth a handful of their money. Some pieces are\nsaid to have been sometimes found in the fields near Corwrion, and that\nthey consisted of coins which were smaller than our halfpennies, but\nbigger than farthings, and had a harp on one side. But the tradition\nis not very definite on these points.\n\nHere also I may as well refer to a similar tale which I got last year\nat Llanberis from a man who is a native of the Llanllechid side of the\nmountain, though he now lives at Llanberis. He is about fifty-five\nyears of age, and remembers hearing in his youth a tale connected\nwith a house called Hafoty'r Famaeth, in a very lonely situation on\nLlanllechid Mountain, and now represented only by some old ruined\nwalls. It was to the effect that one night, when the man who lived\nthere was away from home, his wife, who had a youngish baby, washed\nhim on the hearth, left the water there, and went to bed with her\nlittle one: she woke up in the night to find that the Tylwyth Teg\nwere in possession of the hearth, and busily engaged in washing their\nchildren. That is all I got of this tale of a well-known type.\n\nTo return to Mr. Hughes' communications, I would select from them\nsome remarks on the topography of the teeming home of the fairies. He\nestimated the lake or pool of Corwrion to be about 120 yards long,\nand adds that it is nearly round; but he thinks it was formerly\nconsiderably larger, as a cutting was made some eighty or a hundred\nyears ago to lead water from it to Penrhyn Castle; but even then\nits size would not approach that ascribed to it by popular belief,\naccording to which it was no less than three miles long. In fact\nit was believed that there was once a town of Corwrion which was\nswallowed up by the lake, a sort of idea which one meets with in\nmany parts of Wales, and some of the natives are said to be able to\ndiscern the houses under the water. This must have been near the end\nwhich is not bottomless, the latter being indicated by a spot which\nis said never to freeze even in hard winters. Old men remember it\nthe resort of herons, cormorants, and the water-hen (hobi wen). Near\nthe banks there grew, besides the water-lily, various kinds of rushes\nand sedges, which were formerly much used for making mats and other\nuseful articles. It was also once famous for eels of a large size,\nbut it is not supposed to have contained fish until Lord Penrhyn placed\nsome there in recent years. It teemed, however, with leeches of three\ndifferent kinds so recently that an old man still living describes to\nMr. Hughes his simple way of catching them when he was a boy, namely,\nby walking bare-legged in the water: in a few minutes he landed with\nnine or ten leeches sticking to his legs, some of which fetched a\nshilling each from the medical men of those days. Corwrion is now a\nfarm house occupied by Mr. William Griffiths, a grandson of the late\nbard Gutyn Peris. When Mr. Hughes called to make inquiries about the\nlegend, he found there the foundations of several old buildings, and\nseveral pieces of old querns about the place. He thinks that there\nbelonged to Corwrion in former times, a mill and a fuller's house,\nwhich he seems to infer from the names of two neighbouring houses\ncalled 'Y Felin Hen,' the Old Mill, and 'Pandy Tre Garth,' the Fulling\nMill of Tregarth, respectively. He also alludes to a gefail or smithy\nthere, in which one Rhys ab Robert used to work, not to mention that\na great quantity of ashes, such as come from a smithy, are found at\nthe end of the lake furthest from the farm house. The spot on which\nCorwrion stands is part of the ground between the Ogwen and another\nstream which bears the name of 'Afon Cegin Arthur,' or the River of\nArthur's Kitchen, and most of the houses and fields about have names\nwhich have suggested various notions to the people there: such are the\nfarms called 'Coed Howel,' whence the belief in the neighbourhood that\nHowel Da, King of Wales, lived here. About him Mr. Hughes has a great\ndeal to say: among other things, that he had boats on Corwrion lake,\nand that he was wont to present the citizens of Bangor yearly with 300\nfat geese reared on the waters of the same. I am referred by another\nman to a lecture delivered in the neighbourhood on these and similar\nthings by the late bard and antiquary the Rev. Robert Ellis (Cyndelw),\nbut I have never come across a copy. A field near Corwrion is called\n'Cae Stabal,' or the Field of the Stable, which contains the remains\nof a row of stables, as it is supposed, and of a number of mangers\nwhere Howel's horses were once fed. In a neighbouring wood, called\n'Parc y Gelli' or 'Hopiar y Gelli,' my informant goes on to say,\nthere are to be seen the foundations of seventeen or eighteen old\nhut-circles, and near them some think they see the site of an old\nchurch. About a mile to the south-east of Corwrion is Pendinas,\nwhich Mr. Hughes describes as an old triangular Welsh fortress,\non the bank of the Ogwen; and within two stone's-throws or so of\nCorwrion on the south side of it, and a little to the west of Bryn\nTwrw mentioned in the legend, is situated Penard Gron, a caer or\nfort, which he describes as being, before it was razed in his time,\nforty-two yards long by thirty-two wide, and defended by a sort of\nrampart of earth and stone several yards wide at the base. It used\nto be the resort of the country people for dancing, cock-fighting\n[26], and other amusements on Sundays. Near it was a cairn, which,\nwhen it was dug into, was found to cover a kistvaen, a pot, and a\nquern: a variety of tales attaching to it are told concerning ghosts,\ncaves, and hidden treasures. Altogether Mr. Hughes is strongly of\nopinion that Corwrion and its immediate surroundings represent a spot\nwhich at one time had great importance; and I see no reason wholly to\ndoubt the correctness of that conclusion, but it would be interesting\nto know whether Penrhyn used, as Mr. Hughes suggests, to be called\nPenrhyn Corwrion; there ought, perhaps, to be no great difficulty in\nascertaining this, as some of the Penrhyn estate appears to have been\nthe subject of litigation in times gone by.\n\nBefore leaving Mr. Hughes' notes, I must here give his too brief\naccount of another thing connected with Corwrion, though, perhaps,\nnot with the legends here in question. I allude to what he calls the\nLantern Ghost (Ysbryd y Lantar):--'There used to be formerly,' he says,\n'and there is still at Corwrion, a good-sized sour apple-tree, which\nduring the winter half of the year used to be lit up by fire. It\nbegan slowly and grew greater until the whole seemed to be in a\nblaze. He was told by an old woman that she formerly knew old people\nwho declared they had seen it. In the same way the trees in Hopiar y\nGelli appeared, according to them, to be also lit up with fire.' This\nreminds me of Mr. Fitzgerald's account of the Irish Bile-Tineadh in\nthe Revue Celtique, iv. 194.\n\nAfter communicating to me the notes of which the foregoing are\nabstracts, Mr. Hughes kindly got me a version of the legend from\nMr. David Thomas, of Pont y Wern, in the same neighbourhood, but as it\ncontains nothing which I have not already given from Mr. Hughes' own,\nI pass it by. Mr. Thomas, however, has heard that the number of the\nhouses making up the town of Corwrion some six or seven centuries ago\nwas about seventy-five; but they were exactly seventy-three according\nto my next informant, Mr. David Evan Davies, of Treflys, Bethesda,\nbetter known by his bardic name of Dewi Glan Ffrydlas. Both these\ngentlemen have also heard the tradition that there was a church at\nCorwrion, where there used to be every Sunday a single service, after\nwhich the people went to a spot not far off to amuse themselves, and\nat night to watch the fairies dancing, or to mix with them while they\ndanced in a ring around a glow-worm. According to Dewi Glan Ffrydlas,\nthe spot was the Pen y Bonc, already mentioned, which means, among\nother things, that they chose a rising ground. This is referred to\nin a modern rhyme, which runs thus:--\n\n\n                A'r Tylwyth Teg yn dawnsio'n sionc\n                O gylch mag\u00efen Pen y Bonc.\n\n                With the fairies nimbly dancing round\n                The glow-worm on the Rising Ground.\n\n\nDewi Glan Ffrydlas has kindly gone to the trouble of giving me a brief,\nbut complete, version of the legend as he has heard it. It will be\nnoticed that the discovering of the fairy's name is an idle incident\nin this version: it is brought in too late, and no use is made of it\nwhen introduced. This is the substance of his story in English:--'At\none of the dances at Pen y Bonc, the heir of Corwrion's eyes fell\non one of the damsels of the fair family, and he was filled with\nlove for her. Courtship and marriage in due time ensued, but he had\nto agree to two conditions, namely, that he was neither to know her\nname nor to strike her with iron. By-and-by they had children, and\nwhen the husband happened to go, during his wife's confinement, to a\nmerry-making at Pen y Bonc, the fairies talked together concerning\nhis wife, and in expressing their feelings of sympathy for her,\nthey inadvertently betrayed the mystery of her name by mentioning it\nwithin his hearing. Years rolled on, when the husband and wife went out\ntogether one day to catch a colt of theirs that had not been broken\nin, their object being to go to Conway Fair. Now, as she was swifter\nof foot than her husband, she got hold of the colt by the mane, and\ncalled out to him to throw her a halter, but instead of throwing her\nthe one she asked for, he threw another with iron in it, which struck\nher. Off she went into the lake. A grandson of this fairy many years\nafterwards married one of the girls of Corwrion. They had a large\npiece of land, but no means of stocking it, so that they felt rather\ndistressed in their minds. But lo and behold! one day a white-headed\nbull came out of the lake, bringing with him six black cows to their\nland. There never were the like of those cows for milk, and great\nwas the prosperity of their owners, as well as the envy it kindled\nin their neighbours' breasts. But when they both grew old and died,\nthe bull and the cows went back into the lake.'\n\nNow I add the other sayings about the Tylwyth Teg, which Dewi Glan\nFfrydlas has kindly collected for me, beginning with a blurred story\nabout changelings:--\n\n'Once on a time, in the fourteenth century, the wife of a man at\nCorwrion had twins, and she complained one day to a witch, who lived\nclose by, at Tydyn y Barcud, that the children were not getting on,\nbut that they were always crying day and night. \"Are you sure that\nthey are your children?\" asked the witch, adding that it did not\nseem to her that they were like hers. \"I have my doubts also,\" said\nthe mother. \"I wonder if somebody has exchanged children with you,\"\nsaid the witch. \"I do not know,\" said the mother. \"But why do you not\nseek to know?\" asked the other. \"But how am I to go about it?\" said the\nmother. The witch replied, \"Go and do something rather strange before\ntheir eyes and watch what they will say to one another.\" \"Well, I do\nnot know what I should do,\" said the mother. \"Well,\" said the other,\n\"take an egg-shell, and proceed to brew beer in it in a chamber\naside, and come here to tell me what the children will say about\nit.\" She went home and did as the witch had directed her, when the\ntwo children lifted their heads out of the cradle to find what she\nwas doing--to watch and to listen. Then one observed to the other,\n\"I remember seeing an oak having an acorn,\" to which the other replied,\n\"And I remember seeing a hen having an egg\"; and one of the two added,\n\"But I do not remember before seeing anybody brew beer in the shell\nof a hen's egg.\" The mother then went to the witch and told her what\nthe twins had said one to the other; and she directed her to go to a\nsmall wooden bridge, not far off, with one of the strange children\nunder each arm, and there to drop them from the bridge into the\nriver beneath. The mother went back home again and did as she had\nbeen directed. When she reached home this time, she found to her\nastonishment that her own children had been brought back.'\n\nNext comes a story about a midwife who lived at Corwrion. 'One of\nthe fairies called to ask her to come and attend on his wife. Off\nshe went with him, and she was astonished to be taken into a splendid\npalace. There she continued to go night and morning to dress the baby\nfor some time, until one day the husband asked her to rub her eyes\nwith a certain ointment he offered her. She did so, and found herself\nsitting on a tuft of rushes, and not in a palace. There was no baby:\nall had disappeared. Some time afterwards she happened to go to the\ntown, and whom should she there see busily buying various wares,\nbut the fairy on whose wife she had been attending. She addressed\nhim with the question, \"How are you to-day?\" Instead of answering\nher, he asked, \"How do you see me?\" \"With my eyes,\" was the prompt\nreply. \"Which eye?\" he asked. \"This one,\" said the woman, pointing to\nit; and instantly he disappeared, never more to be seen by her.' This\ntale, as will be seen on comparison later, is incomplete, and probably\nincorrect.\n\nHere is another from Mr. D. E. Davies:--'One day Guto, the farmer of\nCorwrion, complained to his wife that he lacked men to mow his hay,\nwhen she replied, \"Why fret about it? look yonder! There you have\na field full of them at it, and stripped to their shirt-sleeves\n(yn llewys eu crysau).\" When he went to the spot the sham workmen\nof the fairy family had disappeared. This same Guto--or somebody\nelse--happened another time to be ploughing, when he heard some\nperson he could not see, calling out to him, \"I have got the bins\n(that is the vice) of my plough broken.\" \"Bring it to me,\" said the\ndriver of Guto's team, \"that I may mend it.\" When they finished the\nfurrow, they found the broken vice, with a barrel of beer placed\nnear it. One of the men sat down and mended the vice. Then they\nmade another furrow, and when they returned to the spot they found\nthere a two-eared dish filled to the brim with bara a chwrw, or\n\"bread and beer.\" The word vice, I may observe, is an English term,\nwhich is applied in Carnarvonshire to a certain part of the plough:\nit is otherwise called bins, but neither does this seem to be a Welsh\nword, nor have I heard either used in South Wales.\n\nAt times one of the fairies was in the habit, as I was told by more\nthan one of my informants, of coming out of Llyn Corwrion with her\nspinning-wheel (troell bach) on fine summer days and betaking herself\nto spinning. While at that work she might be heard constantly singing\nor humming, in a sort of round tune, the words s\u00ecli ffrit. So that s\u00ecli\nffrit Leisa B\u00e8la may now be heard from the mouths of the children in\nthat neighbourhood. But I have not been successful in finding out what\nLiza Bella's 'silly frit' exactly means, though I am, on the whole,\nconvinced that the words are other than of Welsh origin. The last of\nthem, ffrit, is usually applied in Cardiganshire to anything worthless\nor insignificant, and the derivative, ffrityn, means one who has no go\nor perseverance in him: the feminine is ffriten. In Carnarvonshire my\nwife has heard ffrityn and ffritan applied to a small man and a small\nwoman respectively. Mr. Hughes says that in Merioneth and parts of\nPowys s\u00ecli ffrit is a term applied to a small woman or a female dwarf\nwho happens to be proud, vain, and fond of the attentions of the other\nsex (benyw fach neu goraches falch a hunanol a fydai hoff o garu);\nbut he thinks he has heard it made use of with regard to the gipsies,\nand possibly also to the Tylwyth Teg. The Rev. O. Davies thinks the\nwords s\u00ecli ffrit Leisa B\u00e8la to be very modern, and that they refer\nto a young woman who lived at a place in the neighbourhood, called\nBryn B\u00e8la or Brymb\u00e8la, 'Bella's Hill,' the point being that this Bella\nwas ahead, in her time, of all the girls in those parts in matters of\ntaste and fashion. This however does not seem to go far enough back,\nand it is possible still that in B\u00e8la, that is, in English spelling,\nBella, we have merely a shortening of some such a name as Isabella\nor Arabella, which were once much more popular in the Principality\nthan they are now: in fact, I do not feel sure that Leisa B\u00e8la is\nnot bodily a corruption of Isabella. As to s\u00ecli ffrit, one might at\nfirst have been inclined to render it by small fry, especially in\nthe sense of the French 'de la friture' as applied to young men and\nboys, and to connect it with the Welsh sil and silod, which mean small\nfish; but the pronunciation of silli or s\u00ecli being nearly that of the\nEnglish word silly, it appears, on the whole, to belong to the host of\nEnglish words to be found in colloquial Welsh, though they seldom find\ntheir way into books. Students of English ought to be able to tell us\nwhether frit had the meaning here suggested in any part of England,\nand how lately; also, whether there was such a phrase as 'silly frit'\nin use. After penning this, I received the following interesting\ncommunication from Mr. William Jones, of Llangollen:--The term s\u00ecli\nffrit was formerly in use at Bedgelert, and what was thereby meant\nwas a child of the Tylwyth Teg. It is still used for any creature\nthat is smaller than ordinary. 'Pooh, a silly frit like that!' (Pw,\nrhyw s\u00ecli ffrit fel yna!). 'Mrs. So-and-So has a fine child.' 'Ha,\ndo you call a silly frit like that a fine child?' (Mae gan hon a hon\nblentyn braf. Ho, a ydych chwi'n galw rhyw s\u00ecli ffrit fel hwnna'n\nbraf?) To return to Leisa B\u00e8la and Belen\u00eb, it may be that the same\nperson was meant by both these names, but I am in no hurry to identify\nthem, as none of my correspondents knows the latter of them except\nMr. Hughes, who gives it on the authority of the bard Gutyn Peris,\nand nothing further so far as I can understand, whereas B\u00e8la will\ncome before us in another story, as it is the same name, I presume,\nwhich Glasynys has spelled Bella in Cymru Fu.\n\nSo I wrote in 1881: since then I have ascertained from Professor\nJoseph Wright, who is busily engaged on his great English Dialect\nDictionary, that frit [27] is the same word, in the dialects of\nCheshire, Shropshire, and Pembrokeshire, as fright in literary\nEnglish; and that the corresponding verb to frighten is in them\nfritten, while a frittenin (= the book English frightening) means a\nghost or apparition. So s\u00ecli ffrit is simply the English silly frit,\nand means probably a silly sprite or silly ghost, and s\u00ecli ffrit Leisa\nB\u00e8la would mean the silly ghost of a woman called Liza Bella. But the\nsilly frit found spinning near Corwrion Pool will come under notice\nagain, for that fairy belongs to the Rumpelstiltzchen group of tales,\nand the fragment of a story about her will be seen to have treated\nSilly Frit as her proper name, which she had not intended to reach\nthe ears of the person of whom she was trying to get the better.\n\nThese tales are brought into connexion with the present day in more\nways than one, for besides the various accounts of the bwganod\nor bogies of Corwrion frightening people when out late at night,\nMr. D. E. Davies knows a man, who is still living, and who well\nremembers the time when the sound of working used to be heard in the\npool, and the voices of children crying somewhere in its depths,\nbut that when people rushed there to see what the matter was, all\nwas found profoundly quiet and still. Moreover, there is a family\nor two, now numerously represented in the parishes of Llandegai\nand Llanllechid, who used to be taunted with being the offspring of\nfairy ancestors. One of these families was nicknamed 'Simychiaid' or\n'Smychiaid'; and my informant, who is not yet quite forty, says that\nhe heard his mother repeat scores of times that the old people used to\nsay, that the Smychiaid, who were very numerous in the neighbourhood,\nwere descended from fairies, and that they came from Llyn Corwrion. At\nall this the Smychiaid were wont to grow mightily angry. Another\ntradition, he says, about them was that they were a wandering family\nthat arrived in the district from the direction of Conway, and that the\nfather's name was a Simwch, or rather that was his nickname, based on\nthe proper name Simwnt, which appears to have once been the prevalent\nname in Llandegai. The historical order of these words would in that\ncase have been Simwnt, Simwch, Simychiaid, Smychiaid. Now Simwnt seems\nto be merely the Welsh form given to some such English name as Simond,\njust as Edmund or Edmond becomes in North Wales Emwnt. The objection to\nthe nickname seems to lie in the fact, which one of my correspondents\npoints out to me, that Simwch is understood to mean a monkey, a point\non which I should like to have further information. Pughe gives simach,\nit is true, as having the meaning of the Latin simia. A branch of the\nsame family is said to be called 'y Cowperiaid' or the Coopers, from\nan ancestor who was either by name or by trade a cooper. Mr. Hughes'\naccount of the Smychiaid was, that they are the descendants of one\nSimonds, who came to be a bailiff at Bodysgallan, near Deganwy, and\nmoved from there to Coetmor in the neighbourhood of Corwrion. Simonds\nwas obnoxious to the bards, he goes on to say, and they described the\nSmychiaid as having arrived in the parish at the bottom of a cawell,\n'a creel or basket carried on the back,' when chance would have it that\nthe cawell cord snapped just in that neighbourhood, at a place called\nPont y Llan. That accident is described, according to Mr. Hughes,\nin the following doggerel, the origin of which I do not know--\n\n\n                E dorai 'r arwest, ede wan,\n                Brwnt y lle, ar Bont y Llan.\n\n                The cord would snap, feeble yarn,\n                At that nasty spot, Pont y Llan.\n\n\nCuriously enough, the same cawell story used to be said of a widely\nspread family in North Cardiganshire, whose surname was pronounced\nMassn and written Mason or Mazon: as my mother was of this family,\nI have often heard it. The cawell, if I remember rightly, was said,\nin this instance, to have come from Scotland, to which were traced\nthree men who settled in North Cardiganshire. One had no descendants,\nbut the other two, Mason and Peel--I think his name was Peel, but I am\nonly sure that it was not Welsh--had so many, that the Masons, at any\nrate, are exceedingly numerous there; but a great many of them, owing\nto some extent, probably, to the cawell story, have been silly enough\nto change their name into that of Jones, some of them in my time. The\nthree men came there probably for refuge in the course of troubles\nin Scotland, as a Frazer and a Francis did to Anglesey. At any rate,\nI have never heard it suggested that they were of aquatic origin, but,\ntaking the cawell into consideration, and the popular account of the\nSmychiaid, I should be inclined to think that the cawell originally\nreferred to some such a supposed descent. I only hope that somebody\nwill help us with another and a longer cawell tale, which will make\nup for the brevity of these allusions. We may, however, assume,\nI think, that there was a tendency at one time in Gwyned, if not in\nother parts of the Principality, to believe, or pretend to believe,\nthat the descendants of an Englishman or Scotsman, who settled among\nthe old inhabitants, were of fairy origin, and that their history was\nsomehow uncanny, which was all, of course, duly resented. This helps,\nto some extent, to explain how names of doubtful origin have got\ninto these tales, such as Smychiaid, Cowperiaid, Pellings, Penelope,\nLeisa B\u00e8la or Isabella, and the like. This association of the lake\nlegends with intruders from without is what has, perhaps, in a great\nmeasure served to rescue such legends from utter oblivion.\n\nAs to a church at Corwrion, the tradition does not seem to be an old\none, and it appears founded on one of the popular etymologies of the\nword Corwrion, which treats the first syllable as cor in the sense of\na choir; but the word has other meanings, including among them that\nof an ox-stall or enclosure for cattle. Taking this as coming near\nthe true explanation, it at once suggests itself, that Creuwyryon in\nthe Mabinogi of Math ab Mathonwy is the same place, for creu or crau\nalso meant an enclosure for animals, including swine. In Irish the\nword is cr\u00f3, an enclosure, a hut or hovel. The passage in the Mabinogi\n[28] relates to Gwydion returning with the swine he had got by dint of\nmagic and deceit from Pryderi, prince of Dyfed, and runs thus in Lady\nCharlotte Guest's translation: 'So they journeyed on to the highest\ntown of Arllechwed, and there they made a sty (creu) for the swine,\nand therefore was the name of Creuwyryon given to that town.' As to\nwyryon or wyrion, which we find made into wrion in Corwrion according\nto the modern habit, it would seem to be no other word than the usual\nplural of wyr, a grandson, formerly also any descendant in the direct\nline. If so, the name of an ancestor must have originally followed,\njust as one of the places called Bettws was once Betws Wyrion Idon,\n'the Bettws of Idon's Descendants'; but it is possible that wyrion\nin Creu- or Cor-wyrion was itself a man's name, though I have never\nmet with it. It is right to add that the name appears in the Record\nof Carnarvon (pp. 12, 25, 26) as Creweryon, which carries us back to\nthe first half of the fourteenth century. There it occurs as the name\nof a township containing eight gavels, and the particulars about it\nmight, in the hand of one familiar with the tenures of that time,\nperhaps give us valuable information as to what may have been its\nstatus at a still earlier date.\n\n\n\n\nVI.\n\nHere, for the sake of comparison with the Northwalian stories in\nwhich the fairy wife runs away from her husband in consequence of\nhis having unintentionally touched or hit her with the iron in the\nbridle, the fetter, or the stirrup, as on pp. 35, 40, 46, 50, 54,\n61. I wish to cite the oldest recorded version, namely from Walter\nMapes' curious miscellany of anecdotes and legends entitled De Nugis\nCurialium Distinctiones Quinque. Mapes flourished in the latter part\nof the twelfth century, and in Distinctio ii. 11 of Thomas Wright's\nedition, published in the year 1850, one reads the following story,\nwhich serves the purpose there of giving the origin of a certain\nTrinio, of whom Mapes had more to say:--\n\nAliud non miraculum sed portentum nobis Walenses referunt. Wastinum\nWastiniauc secus stagnum Brekeinauc [read Brecheinauc], quod in\ncircuitu duo miliaria tenet, mansisse aiunt et vidisse per tres\nclaras a luna noctes choreas f\u00e6minarum in campo aven\u00e6 su\u00e6, et\nsecutum eum eas fuisse donec in aqua stagni submergerentur, unam\ntamen quarta vice retinuisse. Narrabat etiam ille raptor illius quod\neas noctibus singulis post submersionem earum murmurantes audisset\nsub aqua et dicentes, 'Si hoc fecisset, unam de nobis cepisset,'\net se ab ipsis edoctum quomodo hanc adepta [read -us] sit, qu\u00e6\net consensit et nupsit ei, et prima verba sua h\u00e6c ad virum suum,\n'Libens tibi serviam, et tota obedienti\u00e6 devotione usque in diem illum\nprosilire volens ad clamores ultra Lenem [read Leueni] me freno tuo\npercusseris.' Est autem Leueni aqua vicina stagno. Quod et factum\nest; post plurim\u00e6 prolis susceptionem ab eo freno percussa est,\net in reditu suo inventam eam fugientem cum prole, insecutus est,\net vix unum ex filiis suis arripuit, nomine Triunem Uagelauc.\n\n'The Welsh relate to us another thing, not so much a miracle as a\nportent, as follows. They say that Gwestin of Gwestiniog dwelt beside\nBrecknock Mere, which has a circumference of two miles, and that on\nthree moonlight nights he saw in his field of oats women dancing,\nand that he followed them until they sank in the water of the mere;\nbut the fourth time they say that he seized hold of one of them. Her\ncaptor further used to relate that on each of these nights he had\nheard the women, after plunging into the mere, murmuring beneath the\nwater and saying, \"If he had done so and so, he would have caught\none of us,\" and that he had been instructed by their own words, as\nto the manner in which he caught her. She both yielded and became his\nwife, and her first words to her husband were these: \"Willingly will\nI serve thee, and with whole-hearted obedience, until that day when,\ndesirous of sallying forth in the direction of the cries beyond the\nLlyfni, thou shalt strike me with thy bridle\"--the Llyfni is a burn\nnear the mere. And this came to pass: after presenting him with a\nnumerous offspring she was struck by him with the bridle, and on\nhis returning home, he found her running away with her offspring,\nand he pursued her, but it was with difficulty that he got hold even\nof one of his sons, and he was named Trinio (?) Faglog.'\n\nThe story, as it proceeds, mentions Trinio engaged in battle with\nthe men of a prince who seems to have been no other than Brychan of\nBrycheiniog, supposed to have died about the middle of the fifth\ncentury. The battle was disastrous to Trinio and his friends, and\nTrinio was never seen afterwards; so Walter Mapes reports the fact\nthat people believed him to have been rescued by his mother, and that\nhe was with her living still in the lake. Giraldus calls it lacus\nille de Brecheniauc magnus et famosus, quem et Clamosum dicunt, 'that\ngreat and famous lake of Brecknock which they also call Clamosus,'\nsuggested by the Welsh Llyn Llefni, so called from the river Llefni,\nmisinterpreted as if derived from llef 'a cry.' With this lake he\nconnects the legend, that at the bidding of the rightful Prince of\nWales, the birds frequenting it would at once warble and sing. This\nhe asserts to have been proved in the case of Gruffud, son of Rhys,\nthough the Normans were at the time masters of his person and of his\nterritory [29]. After dwelling on the varying colours of the lake he\nadds the following statement:--Ad h\u00e6c etiam totus \u00e6dificiis consertus,\nculturis egregiis, hortis ornatus et pomeriis, ab accolis quandoque\nconspicitur, 'Now and then also it is seen by the neighbouring\ninhabitants to be covered with buildings, and adorned with excellent\nfarming, gardens, and orchards.' It is remarkable as one of the few\nlakes in Wales where the remains of a crannog have been discovered,\nand while Mapes gives it as only two miles round, it is now said to\nbe about five; so it has sometimes [30] been regarded as a stockaded\nisland rather than as an instance of pile dwellings.\n\nIn the Brython for 1863, pp. 114-15, is to be found what purports to be\na copy of a version of the Legend of Llyn Syfadon, as contained in a\nmanuscript of Hugh Thomas' in the British Museum. It is to the effect\nthat the people of the neighbourhood have a story that all the land\nnow covered by the lake belonged to a princess, who had an admirer\nto whom she would not be married unless he procured plenty of gold:\nshe did not care how. So he one day murdered and robbed a man who\nhad money, and the princess then accepted the murderer's suit, but\nshe felt uneasy on account of the reports as to the murdered man's\nghost haunting the place where his body had been buried. So she made\nher admirer go at night to interview the ghost and lay it. Whilst he\nwaited near the grave he heard a voice inquiring whether the innocent\nman was not to be avenged, and another replying that it would not be\navenged till the ninth generation. The princess and her lover felt\nsafe enough and were married: they multiplied and became numerous,\nwhile their town grew to be as it were another Sodom; and the original\npair lived on so astonishingly long that they saw their descendants\nof the ninth generation. They exulted in their prosperity, and one\nday held a great feast to celebrate it; and when their descendants\nwere banqueting with them, and the gaiety and mirth were at their\nzenith, ancestors and descendants were one and all drowned in a mighty\ncataclysm which produced the present lake.\n\nLastly may be briefly mentioned the belief still lingering in the\nneighbourhood, to the effect that there is a town beneath the waters\nof the lake, and that in rough weather the bells from the church\ntower of that town may be heard ringing, while in calm weather the\nspire of the church may be distinctly seen. My informant, writing in\n1892, added the remark: 'This story seems hardly creditable to us,\nbut many of the old people believe it.'\n\nI ought to have mentioned that the fifteenth-century poet Lewis Glyn\nCothi connects with Syfadon [31] Lake an afanc legend; but this will\nbe easier to understand in the light of the more complete one from\nthe banks of the river Conwy. So the reader will find Glyn Cothi's\nwords given in the next chapter.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nTHE FAIRIES' REVENGE\n\n                            In th'olde dayes of the king Arthour,\n                            Of which that Britons speken greet honour,\n                            Al was this land fulfild of fayerye.\n                            The elf-queen, with hir joly companye,\n                            Daunced ful ofte in many a grene mede;\n                            This was the olde opinion, as I rede.\n                            I speke of manye hundred yeres ago.\n\n                                                                Chaucer.\n\n\nI.\n\nThe best living authority I have found on the folklore of Bedgelert,\nDrws y Coed, and the surrounding district, is Mr. William Jones, of\nLlangollen. He has written a good deal on the subject in the Brython,\nand in essays intended for competition at various literary meetings in\nWales. I had the loan from him of one such essay, and I have referred\nto the Brython; and I have also had from Mr. Jones a number of letters,\nmost of which contain some additional information. In harmony,\nmoreover, with my usual practice, I have asked Mr. Jones to give\nme a little of his own history. This he has been kind enough to do;\nand, as I have so far followed no particular order in these jottings,\nI shall now give the reader the substance of his letters in English,\nas I am anxious that no item should be lost or left inaccessible to\nEnglish students of folklore. What is unintelligible to me may not be\nso to those who have made a serious study of the subject. Mr. Jones'\nwords are in substance to the following effect:--\n\n'I was bred and born in the parish of Bedgelert, one of the most\nrustic neighbourhoods and least subject to change in the whole\ncountry. Some of the old Welsh customs remained within my memory,\nin spite of the adverse influence of the Calvinistic Reformation,\nas it is termed, and I have myself witnessed several Knitting Nights\nand Nuptial Feasts (Neithiorau), which, be it noticed, are not to\nbe confounded with weddings, as they were feasts which followed the\nweddings, at the interval of a week. At these gatherings song and\nstory formed an element of prime importance in the entertainment at a\ntime when the Reformation alluded to had already blown the blast of\nextinction on the Merry Nights (Noswyliau Llawen) and Saints' F\u00eates\n[32] (Gwyliau Mabsant) before the days of my youth, though many of\nmy aged acquaintances remembered them well, and retained a vivid\nrecollection of scores of the amusing tales which used to be related\nfor the best at the last mentioned long-night meetings. I have heard\nnot a few of them reproduced by men of that generation. As an example\nof the old-fashioned habits of the people of Bedgelert in my early\ndays, I may mention the way in which wives and children used to be\nnamed. The custom was that the wife never took her husband's family\nname, but retained the one she had as a spinster. Thus my grandmother\non my mother's side was called Ellen Hughes, daughter to Hugh Williams,\nof Gwastad Annas. The name of her husband, my grandfather, was William\nPrichard [= W. ab Rhisiart, or Richard's son], son to Richard William,\nof the Efail Newyd. The name of their eldest son, my uncle (brother\nto my mother), was Hugh Hughes, and the second son's name was Richard\nWilliam. The mother had the privilege of naming her first-born after\nher own family in case it was a boy; but if it happened to be a girl,\nshe took her name from the father's family, for which reason my\nmother's maiden name was Catharine Williams. This remained her name\nto the day of her death: and the old people at Bedgelert persisted\nin calling me, so long as I was at home, William Prichard, after my\ngrandfather, as I was my mother's eldest child.\n\n'Most of the tales I have collected,' says Mr. Jones, 'relate to\nthe parishes of Bedgelert and Dolwydelen. My kindred have lived for\ngenerations in those two parishes, and they are very numerous: in\nfact, it used to be said that the people of Dolwydelen and Bedgelert\nwere all cousins. They were mostly small farmers, and jealous of\nall strangers, so that they married almost without exception from\nthe one parish into the other. This intermixture helped to carry\nthe tales of the one parish to the other, and to perpetuate them\non the hearths of their homes from generation to generation, until\nthey were swept away by another influence in this century. Many of my\nancestors seem to have been very fond of stories, poetry, and singing,\nand I have been told that some of them were very skilled in these\nthings. So also, in the case of my parents, the memory of the past\nhad a great charm for them on both sides; and when the relatives\nfrom Dolwydelen and Bedgelert met in either parish, there used to\nbe no end to the recounting of pedigrees and the repeating of tales\nfor the best. By listening to them, I had been filled with desire to\nbecome an adept in pedigrees and legends. My parents used to let me\ngo every evening to the house of my grandfather, William ab Rhisiart,\nthe clerk, to listen to tales, and to hear edifying books read. My\ngrandfather was a reader \"without his rival,\" and \"he used to beat\nthe parson hollow.\" Many people used to meet at Pen y Bont in the\nevenings to converse together, and the stories of some of them were\nnow and then exceedingly eloquent. Of course, I listened with eager\nears and open mouth, in order, if I heard anything new, to be able\nto repeat it to my mother. She, unwilling to let herself be beaten,\nwould probably relate another like it, which she had heard from her\nmother, her grandmother, or her old aunt of Gwastad Annas, who was\na fairly good verse-wright of the homely kind. Then my father, if\nhe did not happen to be busy with his music-book, would also give\nus a tale which he had heard from his grandmother or grandfather,\nthe old John Jones, of Tyn Llan Dolwydelen, or somebody else would\ndo so. That is one source from which I got my knowledge of folklore;\nbut this ceased when we moved from Bedgelert to Carnarvon in the year\n1841. My grandfather died in 1844, aged seventy-eight.\n\n'Besides those,' Mr. Jones goes on to say, 'who used to come to\nmy grandfather's house and to his workshop to relate stories, the\nblacksmith's shop used to be, especially on a rainy day, a capital\nplace for a story, and many a time did I lurk there instead of going\nto school, in order to hear old William Dafyd, the sawyer, who, peace\nbe to his ashes! drank many a hornful from the Big Quart without ever\nbreaking down, and old Ifan Owen, the fisherman, tearing away for\nthe best at their yarns, sometimes a tissue of lies and sometimes\ntruth. The former was funny, and a great wag, up to all kinds of\ntricks. He made everybody laugh, whereas the latter would preserve\nthe gravity of a saint, however lying might be the tale which he\nrelated. Ifan Owen's best stories were about the Water Spirit, or,\nas he called it, Llamhigyn y Dwr, \"the Water Leaper.\" He had not\nhimself seen the Llamhigyn, but his father had seen it \"hundreds of\ntimes.\" Many an evening it had prevented him from catching a single\nfish in Llyn Gwynan, and, when the fisherman got on this theme, his\neloquence was apt to become highly polysyllabic in its adjectives. Once\nin particular, when he had been angling for hours towards the close\nof the day, without catching anything, he found that something took\nthe fly clean off the hook each time he cast it. After moving from\none spot to another on the lake, he fished opposite the Benlan Wen,\nwhen something gave his line a frightful pull, \"and, by the gallows,\nI gave another pull,\" the fisherman used to say, \"with all the\nforce of my arm: out it came, and up it went off the hook, whilst\nI turned round to see, as it dashed so against the cliff of Benlan\nthat it blazed like a lightning.\" He used to add, \"If that was not\nthe Llamhigyn, it must have been the very devil himself.\" That cliff\nmust be two hundred yards at least from the shore. As to his father,\nhe had seen the Water Spirit many times, and he had also been fishing\nin the Llyn Gl\u00e2s or Ffynnon L\u00e2s, once upon a time, when he hooked a\nwonderful and fearful monster: it was not like a fish, but rather\nresembled a toad, except that it had a tail and wings instead of\nlegs. He pulled it easily enough towards the shore, but, as its head\nwas coming out of the water, it gave a terrible shriek that was enough\nto split the fisherman's bones to the marrow, and, had there not been\na friend standing by, he would have fallen headlong into the lake,\nand been possibly dragged like a sheep into the depth; for there is\na tradition that if a sheep got into the Llyn Gl\u00e2s, it could not be\ngot out again, as something would at once drag it to the bottom. This\nused to be the belief of the shepherds of Cwm Dyli, within my memory,\nand they acted on it in never letting their dogs go after the sheep\nin the neighbourhood of this lake. These two funny fellows, William\nDafyd and Ifan Owen, died long ago, without leaving any of their\ndescendants blessed with as much as the faintest gossamer thread of\nthe story-teller's mantle. The former, if he had been still living,\nwould now be no less than 129 years of age, and the latter about 120.'\n\nMr. Jones proceeds to say that he had stories from sources besides\nthose mentioned, namely, from Lowri Robart, wife of Rhisiart Edwart,\nthe 'Old Guide'; from his old aunt of Gwastad Annas; from William\nWmffra, husband to his grandmother's sister; from his grandmother, who\nwas a native of Dolwydelen, but had been brought up at Pwllgwernog,\nin Nanmor; from her sister; and from Gruffud Prisiart, of Nanmor,\nafterwards of Glan Colwyn, who gave him the legend of Owen Lawgoch of\nwhich I shall have something to say later, and the story of the bogie\nof Pen Pwll Coch, which I do not know. 'But the chief story-teller of\nhis time at Bedgelert,' Mr. Jones goes on to say, 'was Twm Ifan Siams\n(pronounced Siams or Shams), brother, I believe, to Dafyd Si\u00f4n Siams,\nof the Penrhyn, who was a bard and pedigree man. Twm lived at Nanmor,\nbut I know not what his vocation was; his relatives, however, were\nsmall farmers, carpenters, and masons. It is not improbable that he\nwas also an artisan, as he was conversant with numbers, magnitude, and\nletters, and left behind him a volume forming a pedigree book known\nat Nanmor as the Barcud Mawr, or \"Great Kite,\" as Gruffud Prisiart\ntold me. The latter had been reading it many a time in order to know\nthe origin of somebody or other. All I can remember of this character\nis that he was very old--over 90--and that he went from house to\nhouse in his old age to relate tales and recount pedigrees: great\nwas the welcome he had from everybody everywhere. I remember, also,\nthat he was small of stature, nimble, witty, exceedingly amusing,\nand always ready with his say on every subject. He was in the habit\nof calling on my grandfather in his rambles, and very cordial was the\nreception which my parents always gave him on account of his tales\nand his knowledge of pedigrees. The story of the afanc, as given in my\ncollection, is from his mouth. You will observe how little difference\nthere is between his version [33] and that known to Edward Llwyd in the\nyear 1695. I had related this story to a friend of mine at Portmadoc,\nwho was grandson or great-grandson to Dafyd Si\u00f4n Siams, of Penrhyn,\nin 1858, when he called my attention to the same story in the Cambrian\nJournal from the correspondence of Edward Llwyd. I was surprised at\nthe similarity between the two versions, and I went to Bedgelert to\nGruffud Rhisiart, who was related to Twm Si\u00f4n Siams. I read the story\nto him, and I found that he had heard it related by his uncle just as\nit was by me, and as given in the Cambrian Journal. Twm Ifan Siams\nhad funny stories about the tricks of Gwrach y Rhibyn, the Bodach\n[34] Glas, and the Bwbach Llwyd, which he localized in Nanmor and\nLlanfrothen; he had, also, a very eloquent tale about the courtship\nbetween a sailor from Moel y Gest, near Portmadoc, and a mermaid,\nof which I retain a fairly good recollection. I believe Twm died in\nthe year 1835-6, aged about ninety-five.'\n\nSo far, I have merely translated Mr. Jones' account of himself and\nhis authorities as given me in the letter I have already referred to,\ndated in June of last year, 1881. I would now add the substance of his\ngeneral remarks about the fairies, as he had heard them described, and\nas he expressed himself in his essay for the competition on folklore at\nthe Carnarvon Eistedfod of 1880:--The traditions, he says, respecting\nthe Tylwyth Teg vary according to the situation of the districts with\nwhich they are connected, and many more such traditions continue to\nbe remembered among the inhabitants of the mountains than by those of\nthe more level country. In some places the Tylwyth Teg are described\nas a small folk of a thieving nature, living in summer among the fern\nbushes in the mountains, and in winter in the heather and gorse. These\nwere wont to frequent the fairs and to steal money from the farmers'\npockets, where they placed in its stead their own fairy money,\nwhich looked like the coin of the realm, but when it was paid for\nanything bought it would vanish in the pockets of the seller. In other\ndistricts the fairies were described as a little bigger and stronger\nfolk; but these latter were also of a thieving disposition. They\nwould lurk around people's houses, looking for an opportunity to\nsteal butter and cheese from the dairies, and they skulked about\nthe cow-yards, in order to milk the cows and the goats, which they\ndid so thoroughly that many a morning there was not a drop of milk\nto be had. The principal mischief, however, which those used to do,\nwas to carry away unbaptized infants, and place in their stead their\nown wretched and peevish offspring. They were said to live in hidden\ncaves in the mountains, and he had heard one old man asserting his\nfirm belief that it was beneath Moel Eilio, also called Moel Eilian,\na mountain lying between Llanberis and Cwellyn, the Tylwyth Teg of\nNant y Bettws lived, whom he had seen many a time when he was a lad;\nand, if any one came across the mouth of their cave, he thought that he\nwould find there a wonderful amount of wealth, 'for they were thieves\nwithout their like.' There is still another species of Tylwyth Teg,\nvery unlike the foregoing ones in their nature and habits. Not only\nwas this last kind far more beautiful and comely than the others,\nbut they were honest and good towards mortals. Their whole nature was\nreplete with joy and fun, nor were they ever beheld hardly, except\nengaged in some merry-making or other. They might be seen on bright\nmoonlight nights at it, singing and carolling playfully on the fair\nmeadows and the green slopes, at other times dancing lightly on the\ntops of the rushes in the valleys. They were also wont to be seen\nhunting in full force on the backs of their grey horses; for this\nkind were rich, and kept horses and servants. Though it used to be\nsaid that they were spiritual and immortal beings, still they ate\nand drank like human beings: they married and had children. They were\nalso remarkable for their cleanliness, and they were wont to reward\nneat maid-servants and hospitable wives. So housewives used to exhort\ntheir maids to clean their houses thoroughly every night before going\nto bed, saying that if the Tylwyth Teg happened to enter, they would\nbe sure to leave money for them somewhere; but they were to tell no\none in case they found any, lest the Tylwyth should be offended and\ncome no more. The mistresses also used to order a tinful of water to\nbe placed at the foot of the stairs, a clean cloth on the table, with\nbread and its accompaniments (bara ac enllyn) placed on it, so that, if\nthe Tylwyth came in to eat, the maids should have their recompense on\nthe hob as well as unstinted praise for keeping the house clean, or, as\nMr. Jones has it in a couplet from Goronwy Owen's Cywyd y Cynghorfynt--\n\n\n            Cael eu rhent ar y pentan,\n            A llwyr glod o bai llawr gl\u00e2n.\n\n            Finding the fairies' pay on the hob,\n            With full credit for a clean floor.\n\n\nThus, whether the fairies came or not to pay a visit to them\nduring their sleep, the house would be clean by the morning, and\nthe table ready set for breakfast. It appears that the places most\nfrequently resorted to by this species were rushy combes surrounded\nby smooth hills with round tops, also the banks of rivers and the\nborders of lakes; but they were seldom seen at any time near rocks\nor cliffs. So more tales about them are found in districts of the\nformer description than anywhere else, and among them may be mentioned\nPenmachno, Dolwydelan, the sides of Moel Siabod, Llandeg\u00e1i Mountain,\nand from there to Llanberis, to Nantlle Lakes, to Moel Tryfan [35]\nand Nant y Bettws, the upper portion of the parish of Bedgelert from\nDrws y Coed to the Pennant, and the district beginning from there and\nincluding the level part of Eifion, on towards Celynnog Fawr. I have\nvery little doubt that there are many traditions about them in the\nneighbourhood of the Eifl and in Lleyn; I know but little, however,\nabout these last. This kind of fairies was said to live underground,\nand the way to their country lay under hollow banks that overhung\nthe deepest parts of the lakes, or the deepest pools in the rivers,\nso that mortals could not follow them further than the water, should\nthey try to go after them. They used to come out in broad daylight,\ntwo or three together, and now and then a shepherd, so the saying\nwent, used to talk and chat with them. Sometimes, moreover, he fell\nover head and ears in love with their damsels, but they did not\nreadily allow a mortal to touch them. The time they were to be seen\nin their greatest glee was at night when the moon was full, when\nthey celebrated a merry night (noswaith lawen). At midnight to the\nminute, they might be seen rising out of the ground in every combe\nand valley; then, joining hands, they would form into circles, and\nbegin to sing and dance with might and main until the cock crew, when\nthey would vanish. Many used to go to look at them on those nights,\nbut it was dangerous to go too near them, lest they should lure the\nspectator into their circle; for if that happened, they would throw\na charm over him, which would make him invisible to his companions,\nand he would be detained by the fairies as long as he lived. At times\nsome people went too near to them, and got snatched in; and at other\ntimes a love-inspired youth, fascinated by the charms of one of their\ndamsels, rushed in foolhardily to try to seize one of them, and became\ninstantly surrounded and concealed from sight. If he could be got\nout before the cock crew he would be no worse; but once the fairies\ndisappeared without his having been released, he would never more be\nseen in the land of the living. The way to get the captured man out\nwas to take a long stick of mountain ash (pren criafol), which two\nor more strong men had to hold with one of its ends in the middle of\nthe circle, so that when the man came round in his turn in the dance\nhe might take hold of it, for he is there bodily though not visible,\nso that he cannot go past without coming across the stick. Then the\nothers pull him out, for the fairies, no more than any other spirit,\ndare touch the mountain ash.\n\nWe now proceed to give some of Mr. Jones' legends. The first is\none which he published in the fourth volume of the Brython, p. 70,\nwhence the following free translation is made of it:--\n\n'In the north-west corner of the parish of Bedgelert there is a\nplace which used to be called by the old inhabitants the Land of the\nFairies, and it reaches from Cwm Hafod Ruffyd along the slope of the\nmountain of Drws y Coed as far as Llyn y Dywarchen. The old people\nof former times used to find much pleasure and amusement in this\ndistrict in listening every moonlight night to the charming music of\nthe fair family, and in looking at their dancing and their mirthful\nsports. Once on a time, a long while ago, there lived at upper Drws\ny Coed a youth, who was joyous and active, brave and determined of\nheart. This young man amused himself every night by looking on and\nlistening to them. One night they had come to a field near the house,\nnear the shore of Llyn y Dywarchen, to pass a merry night. He went,\nas usual, to look at them, when his glances at once fell on one of\nthe ladies, who possessed such beauty as he had never seen in a human\nbeing. Her appearance was like that of alabaster; her voice was as\nagreeable as the nightingale's, and as unruffled as the zephyr in a\nflower-garden at the noon of a long summer's day; and her gait was\npretty and aristocratic; her feet moved in the dance as lightly on\nthe grass as the rays of the sun had a few hours before on the lake\nhard by. He fell in love with her over head and ears, and in the\nstrength of that passion--for what is stronger than love!--he rushed,\nwhen the bustle was at its height, into the midst of the fair crowd,\nand snatched the graceful damsel in his arms, and ran instantly with\nher to the house. When the fair family saw the violence used by a\nmortal, they broke up the dance and ran after her towards the house;\nbut, when they arrived, the door had been bolted with iron, wherefore\nthey could not get near her or touch her in any way; and the damsel\nhad been placed securely in a chamber. The youth, having her now under\nhis roof, as is the saying, endeavoured, with all his talent, to win\nher affection and to induce her to wed. But at first she would on no\naccount hear of it; on seeing his persistence, however, and on finding\nthat he would not let her go to return to her people, she consented\nto be his servant if he could find out her name; but she would not be\nmarried to him. As he thought that was not impossible, he half agreed\nto the condition; but, after bothering his head with all the names\nknown in that neighbourhood, he found himself no nearer his point,\nthough he was not willing to give up the search hurriedly. One night,\nas he was going home from Carnarvon market, he saw a number of the\nfair folks in a turbary not far from his path. They seemed to him\nto be engaged in an important deliberation, and it struck him that\nthey were planning how to recover their abducted sister. He thought,\nmoreover, that if he could secretly get within hearing, he might\npossibly find her name out. On looking carefully around, he saw that\na ditch ran through the turbary and passed near the spot where they\nstood. So he made his way round to the ditch, and crept, on all fours,\nalong it until he was within hearing of the family. After listening\na little, he found that their deliberation was as to the fate of the\nlady he had carried away, and he heard one of them crying, piteously,\n\"O Penelop, O Penelop, my sister, why didst thou run away with a\nmortal!\" \"Penelop,\" said the young man to himself, \"that must be the\nname of my beloved: that is enough.\" At once he began to creep back\nquietly, and he returned home safely without having been seen by\nthe fairies. When he got into the house, he called out to the girl,\nsaying, \"Penelop, my beloved one, come here!\" and she came forward\nand asked, in astonishment, \"O mortal, who has betrayed my name\nto thee?\" Then, lifting up her tiny folded hands, she exclaimed,\n\"Alas, my fate, my fate!\" But she grew contented with her fate,\nand took to her work in earnest. Everything in the house and on the\nfarm prospered under her charge. There was no better or cleanlier\nhousewife in the neighbourhood around, or one that was more provident\nthan she. The young man, however, was not satisfied that she should be\na servant to him, and, after he had long and persistently sought it,\nshe consented to be married, on the one condition, that, if ever he\nshould touch her with iron, she would be free to leave him and return\nto her family. He agreed to that condition, since he believed that\nsuch a thing would never happen at his hands. So they were married,\nand lived several years happily and comfortably together. Two children\nwere born to them, a boy and a girl, the picture of their mother and\nthe idols of their father. But one morning, when the husband wanted\nto go to the fair at Carnarvon, he went out to catch a filly that was\ngrazing in the field by the house; but for the life of him he could\nnot catch her, and he called to his wife to come to assist him. She\ncame without delay, and they managed to drive the filly to a secure\ncorner, as they thought; but, as the man approached to catch her,\nshe rushed past him. In his excitement, he threw the bridle after her;\nbut, who should be running in the direction of it, but his wife! The\niron bit struck her on the cheek, and she vanished out of sight on the\nspot. Her husband never saw her any more; but one cold frosty night, a\nlong time after this event, he was awakened from his sleep by somebody\nrubbing the glass of his window, and, after he had given a response,\nhe recognized the gentle and tender voice of his wife saying to him:--\n\n\n            Lest my son should find it cold,\n            Place on him his father's coat;\n            Lest the fair one find it cold,\n            Place on her my petticoat.\n\n\nIt is said that the descendants of this family still continue in\nthese neighbourhoods, and that they are easy to be recognized by their\nlight and fair complexion. A similar story is related of the son of\nthe farmer of Braich y Dinas, in Llanfihangel y Pennant, and it used\nto be said that most of the inhabitants of that neighbourhood were\nformerly of a light complexion. I have often heard old people saying,\nthat it was only necessary, within their memory, to point out in\nthe fair at Penmorfa any one as being of the breed of the Tylwyth,\nto cause plenty of fighting that day at least.'\n\nThe reader may compare with this tale the following, for which I have\nto thank Mr. Samuel Rhys Williams, whose words I give, followed by\na translation:--\n\nYr oed gwr ieuanc o gymydogaeth Drws y Coed yn dychwelyd adref o\nBedgelert ar noswaith loergan lleuad; pan ar gyfer Llyn y Gader\ngwelai nifer o'r bonedigesau a elwir y Tylwyth Teg yn myned trwy eu\nchwareuon nosawl. Swynwyd y llanc yn y fan gan brydferthwch y rhianod\nhyn, ac yn neillduol un o honynt. Collod y llywodraeth arno ei hunan\ni'r fath radau fel y penderfynod neidio i'r cylch a dwyn yn ysbail\nido yr hon oed wedi myned a'i galon mor llwyr. Cyflawnod ei fwriad\na dygod y fonediges gydag ef adref. Bu yn wraig ido, a ganwyd plant\nidynt. Yn damweiniol, tra yn cyflawni rhyw orchwyl, digwydod ido ei\ntharo a haiarn ac ar amrantiad diflannod ei anwylyd o'i olwg ac nis\ngwelod hi mwyach, ond darfod idi dyfod at ffenestr ei ystafell wely\nun noswaith ar ol hyn a'i annog i fod yn dirion wrth y plant a'i bod\nhi yn aros gerllaw y ty yn Llyny Dywarchen. Y mae y tradodiad hefyd\nyn ein hysbysu darfod i'r gwr hwn symud i fyw o Drws y Coed i Ystrad\nBetws Garmon.\n\n'A young man, from the neighbourhood of Drws y Coed, was returning\nhome one bright moonlight night, from Bedgelert; when he came opposite\nthe lake called Llyn y Gader, he saw a number of the ladies known as\nthe Tylwyth Teg going through their nightly frolics. The youth was\ncharmed at once by the beauty of these ladies, and especially by one\nof them. He so far lost his control over himself, that he resolved to\nleap into the circle and carry away as his spoil the one who had so\ncompletely robbed him of his heart. He accomplished his intention, and\ncarried the lady home with him. She became his wife, and children were\nborn to them. Accidentally, while at some work or other, it happened\nto him to strike her with iron, and, in the twinkling of an eye, his\nbeloved one disappeared from his sight. He saw her no more, except that\nshe came to his bedroom window one night afterwards, and told him to\nbe tender to the children, and that she was staying, near the house,\nin the lake called Llyn y Dywarchen. The tradition also informs us that\nthis man moved from Drws y Coed to live at Ystrad near Bettws Garmon.'\n\nThe name Llyn y Dywarchen, I may add, means the Lake of the Sod or\nTurf: it is the one with the floating island, described thus by\nGiraldus, ii. 9 (p. 135):--Alter enim insulam habet erraticam,\nvi ventorum impellentium ad oppositas plerumque lacus partes\nerrabundam. Hic armenta pascentia nonnunquam pastores ad longinquas\nsubito partes translata mirantur. 'For one of the two lakes holds a\nwandering island, which strays mostly with the force of the winds\nimpelling it to the opposite parts of the lake. Sometimes cattle\ngrazing on it are, to the surprise of the shepherds, suddenly carried\nacross to the more distant parts.' Sheep are known to get on the\nfloating islet, and it is still believed to float them away from\nthe shore. Mr. S. Rhys Williams, it will be noticed, has given the\nsubstance of the legend rather than the story itself. I now proceed\nto translate the same tale as given in Welsh in Cymru Fu (pp. 474-7\nof the edition published by Messrs. Hughes and Son, Wrexham), in\na very different dress--it is from Glasynys' pen, and, as might be\nexpected, decked out with all the literary adornments in which he\ndelighted. The language he used was his own, but there is no reason\nto think that he invented any of the incidents:--'The farmer of Drws\ny Coed's son was one misty day engaged as a shepherd on the side of\nthe mountain, a little below Cwm Marchnad, and, as he crossed a rushy\nflat, he saw a wonderfully handsome little woman standing under a\nclump of rushes. Her yellow and curly hair hung down in ringed locks,\nand her eyes were as blue as the clear sky, while her forehead was as\nwhite as the wavy face of a snowdrift that has nestled on the side of\nSnowdon only a single night. Her two plump cheeks were each like a red\nrose, and her pretty-lipped mouth might make an angel eager to kiss\nher. The youth approached her, filled with love for her, and, with\ndelicacy and affection, asked her if he might converse with her. She\nsmiled kindly, and reaching out her hand, said to him, \"Idol of my\nhopes, thou hast come at last!\" They began to associate secretly,\nand to meet one another daily here and there on the moors around\nthe banks of Llyn y Gader; at last, their love had waxed so strong\nthat the young man could not be at peace either day or night, as he\nwas always thinking of Bella or humming to himself a verse of poetry\nabout her charms. The yellow-haired youth was now and then lost for\na long while, and nobody could divine his history. His acquaintances\nbelieved that he had been fascinated: at last the secret was found\nout. There were about Llyn y Dywarchen shady and concealing copses:\nit was there he was wont to go, and the she-elf would always be there\nawaiting him, and it was therefore that the place where they used to\nmeet got to be called Llwyn y Forwyn, the Maiden's Grove. After fondly\nloving for a long time, it was resolved to wed; but it was needful\nto get the leave of the damsel's father. One moonlight night it was\nagreed to meet in the wood, and the appointment was duly kept by the\nyoung man, but there was no sign of the subterranean folks coming,\nuntil the moon disappeared behind the Garn. Then the two arrived,\nand the old man at once proceeded to say to the suitor: \"Thou shalt\nhave my daughter on the condition that thou do not strike her with\niron. If thou ever touch her with iron, she will no longer be thine,\nbut shall return to her own.\" The man consented readily, and great\nwas his joy. They were betrothed, and seldom was a handsomer pair\nseen at the altar. It was rumoured that a vast sum of money as dowry\nhad arrived with the pretty lady at Drws y Coed on the evening of her\nnuptials. Soon after, the mountain shepherd of Cwm Marchnad passed\nfor a very rich and influential man. In the course of time they\nhad children, and no happier people ever lived together than their\nparents. Everything went on regularly and prosperously for a number\nof years: they became exceedingly wealthy, but the sweet is not to\nbe had without the bitter. One day they both went out on horseback,\nand they happened to go near Llyn y Gader, when the wife's horse got\ninto a bog and sank to his belly. After the husband had got Bella off\nhis back, he succeeded with much trouble in getting the horse out, and\nthen he let him go. Then he lifted her on the back of his own, but,\nunfortunately, in trying quickly to place her foot in the stirrup,\nthe iron part of the same slipped, and struck her--or, rather,\nit touched her at the knee-joint. Before they had made good half\ntheir way home, several of the diminutive Tylwyth began to appear\nto them, and the sound of sweet singing was heard on the side of the\nhill. Before the husband reached Drws y Coed his wife had left him,\nand it is supposed that she fled to Llwyn y Forwyn, and thence to the\nworld below to Faery. She left her dear little ones to the care of\nher beloved, and no more came near them. Some say, however, that she\nsometimes contrived to see her beloved one in the following manner. As\nthe law of her country did not permit her to frequent the earth with\nan earthly being, she and her mother invented a way of avoiding the\none thing and of securing the other. A great piece of sod was set\nto float on the surface of the lake, and on that she used to be for\nlong hours, freely conversing in tenderness with her consort on shore;\nby means of that plan they managed to live together until he breathed\nhis last. Their descendants owned Drws y Coed for many generations, and\nthey intermarried and mixed with the people of the district. Moreover,\nmany a fierce fight took place in later times at the Gwyl-fabsant at\nDolbenmaen or at Penmorfa, because the men of Eifionyd had a habit\nof annoying the people of Pennant by calling them Bellisians.'\n\nIn a note, Glasynys remarks that this tale is located in many\ndistricts without much variation, except in the names of the places;\nthis, however, could not apply to the latter part, which suits Llyn\ny Dywarchen alone. With this account of the fairy wife frequenting a\nlake island to converse with her husband on shore, compare the Irish\nstory of the Children of Lir, who, though transformed into swans,\nwere allowed to retain their power of reasoning and speaking, so that\nthey used to converse from the surface of the water with their friends\non the dry land: see Joyce's Old Celtic Romances, pp. x, 1-36. Now\nI return to another tale which was sent me by Mr. William Jones:\nunless I am mistaken it has not hitherto been published; so I give\nthe Welsh together with a free translation of it:--\n\nYr oed ystori am fab Braich y Dinas a adrodai y diwedar hybarch\nElis Owen o Gefn y Meusyd yn lled debyg i chwedl mab yr Ystrad gan\nGlasynys, sef ido hudo un o ferched y Tylwyth Teg i lawr o Foel\nHebog, a'i chipio i mewn i'r ty drwy orthrech; ac wedi hynny efe\na'i perswadiod i ymbriodi ag ef ar yr un telerau ag y gwnaeth mab yr\nYstrad. Ond clywais hen fonediges o'r enw Mrs. Roberts, un o ferched\nyr Isallt, oed lawer hyn na Mr. Owen, yn ei hadrod yn wahanol. Yr oed\nyr hen wreigan hon yn credu yn nilysrwyd y chwedl, oblegid yr oed hi\n'yn cofio rhai o'r teulu, waeth be' deudo neb.' Dirwynnai ei hedau yn\ndebyg i hyn:--Yn yr amser gynt--ond o ran hynny pan oed hi yn ferch\nifanc--yr oed llawer iawn o Dylwyth Teg yn trigo mewn rhyw ogofau yn y\nFoel o Gwm Ystradllyn hyd i flaen y Pennant. Yr oed y Tylwyth hwn yn\nllawer iawn hardach na dim a welid mewn un rhan arall o'r wlad. Yr\noedynt o ran maint yn fwy o lawer na'r rhai cyffredin, yn lan eu\npryd tu hwnt i bawb, eu gwallt yn oleu fel llin, eu llygaid yn loyw\nleision. Yr oedynt yn ymdangos mewn rhyw le neu gilyd yn chwareu,\ncanu ac ymdifyru bob nos deg a goleu; a bydai swn eu canu yn denu\ny llanciau a'r merched ifainc i fyned i'w gweled; ac os bydent yn\ndigwyd bod o bryd goleu hwy a ymgomient a hwynt, ond ni adawent i\nun person o liw tywyll dod yn agos atynt, eithr cilient ymaith o\nfford y cyfryw un. Yrwan yr oed mab Braich y Dinas yn llanc hard,\nheini, bywiog ac o bryd glan, goleu a serchiadol. Yr oed hwn yn hoff\niawn o edrych ar y Tylwyth, a bydai yn cael ymgom a rhai o honynt yn\naml, ond yn bennaf ag un o'r merched oed yn rhagori arnynt oll mewn\nglendid a synwyr; ac o fynych gyfarfod syrthiod y dau mewn cariad\na'u gilyd, eithr ni fynai hi ymbriodi ag ef, ond adawod fyned i'w\nwasanaeth, a chydunod i'w gyfarfod yn Mhant--nid wyf yn cofio yr enw\ni gyd--drannoeth, oblegid nid oed wiw idi geisio myned gydag ef yn\nngwyd y lleill. Felly drannoeth aeth i fynu i'r Foel, a chyfarfydod\ny rhian ef yn ol ei hadewid, ag aeth gydag ef adref, ac ymgymerod a'r\nswyd o laethwraig, a buan y dechreuod popeth lwydo o dan ei llaw: yr\noed yr ymenyn a'r caws yn cynhydu beunyd. Hir a thaer y bu'r llanc\nyn ceisio gandi briodi. A hi a adawod, os medrai ef gael allan ei\nhenw. Ni wydai Mrs. Roberts drwy ba ystryw y llwydod i gael hwnnw,\nond hynny a fu, a daeth ef i'r ty un noswaith a galwod ar 'Sibi,'\na phan glywod hi ei henw, hi a aeth i lewygfa; ond pan daeth ati ei\nhun, hi a ymfodlonod i briodi ar yr amod nad oed ef i gyffwrd a hi\na haiarn ac nad oed bollt haiarn i fod ar y drws na chlo ychwaith,\na hynny a fu: priodwyd hwynt, a buont fyw yn gysurus am lawer o\nflynydoed, a ganwyd idynt amryw blant. Y diwed a fu fel hyn: yr oed\nef wedi myned un diwrnod i dori baich o frwyn at doi, a tharawod\ny cryman yn y baich i fyned adref; fel yr oed yn nesu at y gadlas,\nrhedod Sibi i'w gyfarfod, a thaflod ynteu y baich brwyn yn direidus\ntu ag ati, a rhag ido dyfod ar ei thraws ceisiod ei atal a'i llaw,\nyr hon a gyffyrdod a'r cryman; a hi a diflannod o'r golwg yn y fan\nyn nghysgod y baich brwyn: ni welwyd ac ni chlywyd dim odiwrthi mwyach.\n\n'There was a story respecting the son of the farmer of Braich y Dinas,\nwhich used to be told by the late respected Mr. Ellis Owen, of Cefn\ny Meusyd, somewhat in the same way as that about the Ystrad youth,\nas told by Glasynys; that is to say, the young man enticed one of the\ndamsels of the fair family to come down from Moel Hebog, and then\nhe carried her by force into the house, and afterwards persuaded\nher to become his wife on the same conditions as the heir of Ystrad\ndid. But I have heard an old lady called Mrs. Roberts, who had been\nbrought up at Isallt, and who was older than Mr. Owen, relating it\ndifferently. This old woman believed in the truth of the story, as\n\"she remembered some of the family, whatever anybody may say.\" She\nused to spin her yarn somewhat as follows:--In old times--but, for\nthe matter of that, when she was a young woman--there were a great\nmany of the fair family living in certain caves in the Foel from Cwm\nStr\u00e1llyn [36] down to the upper part of Pennant. This Tylwyth was\nmuch handsomer than any seen in any other part of the country. In\npoint of stature they were much bigger than the ordinary ones, fair\nof complexion beyond everybody, with hair that was as light as flax,\nand eyes that were of a clear blue colour. They showed themselves\nin one spot or another, engaged in playing, singing, and jollity\nevery light night. The sound of their singing used to draw the lads\nand the young women to look at them; and, should they be of clear\ncomplexion, the fairies would chat with them; but they would let\nno person of a dark hue come near them: they moved away from such a\none. Now the young man of Braich y Dinas was a handsome, vigorous,\nand lively stripling of fair, clear, and attractive complexion. He\nwas very fond of looking at the fair family, and had a chat with some\nof them often, but chiefly with one of the damsels, who surpassed all\nthe rest in beauty and good sense. The result of frequently meeting\nwas that they fell in love with one another, but she would not marry\nhim. She promised, however, to go to service to him, and agreed to\nmeet him at Pant y--I have forgotten the rest of the name--the day\nafter, as it would not do for her to go with him while the others\nhappened to be looking on. So he went up the next day to the Foel,\nand the damsel met him according to her promise, and went with him\nhome, where she took to the duties of a dairymaid. Soon everything\nbegan to prosper under her hand; the butter and the cheese were daily\ngrowing in quantity. Long and importunately did the youth try to get\nher to marry him. She promised to do so provided he could find out\nher name. Mrs. Roberts did not know by what manoeuvre he succeeded\nin discovering it, but it was done, and he came into the house one\nnight and called to \"Sibi,\" and when she heard her name she fainted\naway. When, however, she recovered her consciousness, she consented\nto marry on the condition that he was not to touch her with iron,\nand that there was not to be a bolt of iron on the door, or a lock\neither. It was agreed, and they were married; they lived together\ncomfortably many years, and had children born to them. The end came\nthus: he had gone one day to cut a bundle of rushes for thatching,\nand planted the reaping-hook in the bundle to go home. As he drew\ntowards the haggard, Sibi ran out to meet him, and he wantonly threw\nthe bundle of rushes towards her, when she, to prevent its hitting her,\ntried to stop it with her hand, which touched the reaping-hook. She\nvanished on the spot out of sight behind the bundle of rushes, and\nnothing more was seen or heard of her.'\n\nMr. Ellis Owen, alluded to above, was a highly respected gentleman,\nwell known in North Wales for his literary and antiquarian tastes. He\nwas born in 1789 at Cefn y Meusyd near Tremadoc, where he continued\nto live till the day of his death, which was January 27, 1868. His\nliterary remains, preceded by a short biography, were published in\n1877 by Mr. Robert Isaac Jones of Tremadoc; but it contains no fairy\ntales so far as I have been able to find.\n\nA tale which partially reminds one of that given by Dewi Glan\nFfrydlas respecting the Corwrion midwife, referred to at p. 63 above,\nwas published by Mr. W. Jones in the fourth volume of the Brython,\np. 251: freely rendered into English, it runs thus:--\n\n'Once on a time, when a midwife from Nanhwynan had newly got to the\nHafodyd Brithion to pursue her calling, a gentleman came to the door\non a fine grey steed and bade her come with him at once. Such was the\nauthority with which he spoke, that the poor midwife durst not refuse\nto go, however much it was her duty to stay where she was. So she\nmounted behind him, and off they went, like the flight of a swallow,\nthrough Cwmllan, over the Bwlch, down Nant yr Aran, and over the\nGader to Cwm Hafod Ruffyd, before the poor woman had time even to say\nOh! When they reached there, she saw before her a magnificent mansion,\nsplendidly lit up with such lamps as she had never seen before. They\nentered the court, and a crowd of servants in expensive liveries came\nto meet them, and she was at once led through the great hall into a\nbed-chamber, the like of which she had never seen. There the mistress\nof the house, to whom she had been fetched, was awaiting her. The\nmidwife got through her duties successfully, and stayed there until\nthe lady had completely recovered, nor had she spent any part of her\nlife so merrily, for there nought but festivity went on day and night:\ndancing, singing, and endless rejoicing reigned there. But merry\nas it was, she found that she must go, and the nobleman gave her a\nlarge purse, with the order not to open it until she had got into her\nown house. Then he bade one of his servants escort her the same way\nthat she had come. When she reached home she opened the purse, and,\nto her great joy, it was full of money: she lived happily on those\nearnings to the end of her life.'\n\nWith this ending of the story one should contrast Dewi Glan Ffrydlas'\ntale to which I have already alluded; and I may here refer to\nMr. Sikes' British Goblins, pp. 86-8, for a tale differing from both\nDewi's and Jones', in that the fairies are there made to appear as\ndevils to the nurse, who had accidentally used a certain ointment which\nshe was not to place near her own eyes. Instead of being rewarded\nfor her services she was only too glad to be deposited anyhow near\nher home. 'But,' as the story goes on to relate, 'very many years\nafterwards, being at a fair, she saw a man stealing something from a\nstall, and, with one corner of her eye, beheld her old master pushing\nthe man's elbow. Unthinkingly she said, \"How are you, master? how\nare 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.' Such is the\nend of this tale given by Mr. Sikes.\n\n'But the fair family did not,' Mr. William Jones goes on to say,\n'always give mortals the means of good living: sometimes they made no\nlittle fun of them. Once on a time the Drws y Coed man was going home\nfrom Bedgelert Fair, rather merry than sad, along the old road over\nthe Gader, when he saw, on coming near the top of the Gader, a fine,\nhandsome house near the road, in which there was a rare merrymaking. He\nknew perfectly well that there was no such a building anywhere on his\nway, and it made him think that he had lost his way and gone astray;\nso he resolved to turn into the house to ask for lodgings, which were\ngiven him. At once, when he entered, he took it to be a nuptial feast\n(neithior) by reason of the jollity, the singing, and the dancing. The\nhouse was full of young men, young women, and children, all merry,\nand exerting themselves to the utmost. The company began to disappear\none by one, and he asked if he might go to bed, whereupon he was led\nto a splendid chamber, where there was a bed of the softest down\nwith snow-white clothes on it. He stripped at once, went into it,\nand slept quietly enough till the morning. The first thing to come\nto his mind when he lay half asleep, half awake, was the jollity of\nthe night before, and the fact of his sleeping in a splendid chamber\nin the strange house. He opened his eyes to survey his bedroom, but\nit was too wide: he was sleeping on the bare swamp, with a clump of\nrushes as his pillow, and the blue sky as his coverlet.'\n\nMr. Jones mentions that, within his memory, there were still people\nin his neighbourhood who believed that the fairies stole unbaptized\nchildren and placed their own in their stead: he gives the following\nstory about the farmer's wife of Dyffryn Mymbyr, near Capel Curig,\nand her infant:--\n\nYr oed y wraig hon wedi rhodi genedigaeth i blentyn iach a heinif\nyn nechreu y cynheuaf ryw haf blin a thymhestlog: ac o herwyd fod y\ntydyn getyn o fford odiwrth lan na chapel, a'r hin mor hynod o lawiog,\nesgeuluswyd bedydio y plentyn yn yr amser arferol, sef cyn ei fod yn\nwyth niwrnod oed. Ryw diwrnod teg yn nghanol y cynheuaf blin aeth y\nwraig allan i'r maes gyda'r rhelyw o'r teulu i geisio achub y cynheuaf,\na gadawod y baban yn cysgu yn ei gryd o dan ofal ei nain, yr hon oed\nhen a methiantus, ac yn analluog i fyned lawer o gwmpas. Syrthiod yr\nhen wreigan i gysgu, a thra yr oed hi felly, daeth y Tylwyth i fewn,\na chymerasant y baban o'r cryd, a dodasant un arall yn ei le. Yn mhen\nennyd dechreuod hwn erain a chwyno nes deffro y nain, ac aeth at y\ncryd, lle y gwelod gleiriach hen eidil crebachlyd yn ymstwyrian yn\nflin. 'O'r wchw!' ebai hi, 'y mae yr hen Dylwyth wedi bod yma;' ac yn\ndioed chwythod yn y corn i alw y fam, yr hon a daeth yno yn diatreg;\na phan glywod y crio yn y cryd, rhedod ato, a chodod y bychan i fynu\nheb sylwi arno, a hi a'i cofleidiod, a'i suod ac a'i swcrod at ei\nbronnau, ond nid oed dim yn tycio, parhau i nadu yn didor yr oed nes\nbron a hollti ei chalon; ac ni wydai pa beth i wneud i'w distewi. O'r\ndiwed hi a edrychod arno, a gwelod nad oed yn debyg i'w mhebyn hi,\nac aeth yn loes i'w chalon: edrychod arno drachefn, ond po fwyaf yr\nedrychai arno, hyllaf yn y byd oed hi yn ei weled; anfonod am ei gwr\no'r cae, a gyrrod ef i ymholi am wr cyfarwyd yn rhywle er mwyn cael ei\ngynghor; ac ar ol hir holi dywedod rhywun wrtho fod person Trawsfynyd\nyn gyfarwyd yn nghyfrinion yr ysprydion; ac efe a aeth ato, ac archod\nhwnnw ido gymeryd rhaw a'i gorchudio a halen, a thori llun croes yn\nyr halen; yna ei chymeryd i'r ystafell lle yr oed mab y Tylwyth, ac\nar ol agor y ffenestr, ei rhodi ar y tan hyd nes y llosgai yr halen;\na hwy a wnaethant felly, a phan aeth yr halen yn eiriasboeth fe aeth\nyr erthyl croes ymaith yn anweledig idynt hwy, ac ar drothwy y drws\nhwy a gawsant y baban arall yn iach a dianaf.\n\n'This woman had given birth to a healthy and vigorous child at the\nbeginning of the harvest, one wretched and inclement summer. As the\nhomestead was a considerable distance from church or chapel, and the\nweather so very rainy, it was neglected to baptize the child at the\nusual [37] time, that is to say, before it was eight days old. One\nfine day, in the middle of this wretched harvest, the mother went\nto the field with the rest of the family to try to save the harvest,\nand left her baby sleeping in its cradle in its grandmother's charge,\nwho was so aged and decrepit as to be unable to go much about. The\nold woman fell asleep, and, while she was in that state, the Tylwyth\nTeg came in and took away the baby, placing another in its stead. Very\nshortly the latter began to whine and groan, so that the grandmother\nawoke: she went to the cradle, where she saw a slender, wizened old\nman moving restlessly and peevishly about. \"Alas! alas!\" said she,\n\"the old Tylwyth have been here\"; and she at once blew in the horn\nto call the mother home, who came without delay. As she heard the\ncrying in the cradle, she ran towards it, and lifted the little one\nwithout looking at him; she hugged him, put him to her breast, and\nsang lullaby to him, but nothing was of any avail, as he continued,\nwithout stopping, to scream enough to break her heart; and she knew\nnot what to do to calm him. At last she looked at him: she saw that\nhe was not like her dear little boy, and her heart was pierced with\nagony. She looked at him again, and the more she examined him the\nuglier he seemed to her. She sent for her husband home from the\nfield, and told him to search for a skilled man somewhere or other;\nand, after a long search, he was told by somebody that the parson\nof Trawsfynyd was skilled in the secrets of the spirits; so he went\nto him. The latter bade him take a shovel and cover it with salt,\nand make the figure of the cross in the salt; then to take it to\nthe chamber where the fairy child was, and, after taking care to\nopen the window, to place the shovel on the fire until the salt\nwas burnt. This was done, and when the salt had got white hot, the\npeevish abortion went away, seen of no one, and they found the other\nbaby whole and unscathed at the doorstep.' Fire was also made use of\nin Scotland in order to detect a changeling and force him to quit: see\nthe British Association's Report, 1896, p. 650, where Mr. Gomme refers\nto Mr. Gregor's Folk-lore of the North-east of Scotland, pp. 8-9.\n\nIn answer to a question of mine with regard to gossamer, which is\ncalled in North Wales edafed gwawn, 'gwawn yarn,' Mr. Jones told me\nin a letter, dated April, 1881, that it used to be called Rhaffau'r\nTylwyth Teg, that is to say, the Ropes of the Fair Family, which\nwere associated with the diminutive, mischievous, and wanton kind\nof fairies who dwelt in marshy and rushy places, or among the fern\nand the heather. It used to be said that, if a man should lie down\nand fall asleep in any such a spot, the fairies would come and bind\nhim with their ropes so that he could not move, and that they would\nthen cover him with a sheet made of their ropes, which would make\nhim invisible. This was illustrated by him by the following tale he\nhad heard from his mother:--\n\nClywais fy mam yn adrod chwedl am fab y Ffrid, yr hwn wrth dychwelyd\nadref o ffair Bedgelert yn rhywle odeutu Pen Cae'r Gors a welod beth\nafrifed o'r Tylwyth Bach yn neidio a phrancio ar bennau y grug. Efe\na eistedod i lawr i edrych arnynt, a daeth hun drosto; ymollyngod i\nlawr a chysgod yn drwm. A phan oed felly, ymosodod yr holl lu arno\na rhwymasant ef mor dyn fel na allasai symud; yna hwy a'i cudiasant\nef a'r tuded gwawn fel na allai neb ei weled os digwydai ido lefain\nam help. Yr oed ei deulu yn ei disgwyl adref yn gynnar y nos honno,\nac wrth ei weled yn oedi yn hwyr, aethant yn anesmwyth am dano ac\naethpwyd i'w gyfarfod, eithr ni welent dim odiwrtho, ac aed gan\nbelled a'r pentref, lle en hyspyswyd ei fod wedi myned tuag adref\nyn gynnar gyda gwr Hafod Ruffyd. Felly aed tua'r Hafod i edrych a\noed yno; ond dywedod gwr yr Hafod eu bod wedi ymwahanu ar Bont Glan\ny Gors, pawb tua'i fan ei hun. Yna chwiliwyd yn fanwl bob ochr i'r\nfford odiyno i'r Ffrid heb weled dim odiwrtho. Buwyd yn chwilio yr\nholl ardal drwy y dyd drannoeth ond yn ofer. Fod bynnag odeutu yr\nun amser nos drannoeth daeth y Tylwyth ac a'i rhydhasant, ac yn fuan\nefe a deffr\u00f4d wedi cysgu o hono drwy y nos a'r dyd blaenorol. Ar ol\nido deffro ni wydai amcan daear yn mha le yr oed, a chrwydro y bu hyd\nochrau y Gader a'r Gors Fawr hyd nes y canod y ceiliog, pryd yr adnabu\nyn mha le yr oed, sef o fewn llai na chwarter milltir i'w gartref.\n\n'I have heard my mother relating a tale about the son of the farmer\nof the Ffrid, who, while on his way home from Bedgelert Fair, saw,\nsomewhere near Pen Cae'r Gors, an endless number of the diminutive\nfamily leaping and capering on the heather tops. He sat him down\nto look at them, and sleep came over him; he let himself down on the\nground, and slept heavily. When he was so, the whole host attacked him,\nand they bound him so tightly that he could not have stirred; then\nthey covered him with the gossamer sheet, so that nobody could see him\nin case he called for help. His people expected him home early that\nevening, and, as they found him delaying till late, they got uneasy\nabout him. They went to meet him, but no trace of him was seen, and\nthey went as far as the village, where they were informed that he had\nstarted home in good time with the farmer of Hafod Ruffyd. So they\nwent to the Hafod to see if he was there; but the farmer told them\nthat they had parted on Glan y Gors Bridge to go to their respective\nhomes. A minute search was then made on both sides of the road from\nthere to the Ffrid, but without finding any trace of him. They kept\nsearching the whole neighbourhood during the whole of the next day,\nbut in vain. However, about the same time the following night the\nTylwyth came and liberated him, and he shortly woke up, after sleeping\nthrough the previous night and day. When he woke he had no idea where\non earth he was; so he wandered about on the slopes of the Gader and\nnear the Gors Fawr until the cock crew, when he found where he was,\nnamely, less than a quarter of a mile from his home.'\n\nThe late Mr. Owen, of Cefn Meusyd, has already been alluded to. I\nhave not been able to get at much of the folklore with which he was\nfamiliar, but, in reply to some questions of mine, Mr. Robert Isaac\nJones of Tremadoc, his biographer, and the publisher of the Brython,\nso long as it existed, has kindly ransacked his memory. He writes to\nme in Welsh to the following effect:--\n\n'I will tell you what I heard from Mr. Owen and my mother when I\nwas a lad, about fifty-seven years ago. The former used to say that\nthe people of Pennant in Eifionyd had a nickname, to wit, that of\nBelsiaid y Pennant, \"the Bellisians of the Pennant\"; that, when he was\na boy, if anybody called out Belsiaid y Pennant at the Penmorfa Fair,\nevery man jack of them would come out, and fighting always ensued. The\nantiquary used to explain it thus. Some two or three hundred years ago,\nSir Robert of the Nant, one of Sir Richard Bulkeley's ancestors, had a\nson and heir who was extravagant and wild. He married a gipsy, and they\nhad children born to them; but, as the family regarded this marriage\nas a disgrace to their ancient stem, it is said that the father, the\nnext time the vagabonds came round, gave a large sum of money to the\nfather of the girl for taking her away with him. This having been done,\nthe rumour was spread abroad that it was one of the fairies the youth\nhad married, and that she had gone with him to catch a pony, when he\nthrew the bridle at the beast to prevent it passing, and the iron\nof the bridle touched the wife; then that she at once disappeared,\nas the fairies always do so when touched with iron. However, the two\nchildren were put out to nurse, and the one of them, who was a girl,\nwas brought up at Plas y Pennant, and her name was Pelisha [38]; her\ndescendants remain to this day in the Nant, and are called Bellis,\nwho are believed there, to this day, to be derived from the Tylwyth\nTeg. Nothing offends them more than to be reminded of this.'\n\nMr. R. I. Jones goes on to relate another tale as follows:--\n\nDywedir fod lle a elwir yr Hafod Rugog mewn cwm anial yn y mynyd lle\ny bydai y Tylwyth Teg yn arferol a mynychu; ac y bydent yn trwblio'r\nhen wraig am fenthyg rhywbeth neu gilyd. Dywedod hithau, 'Cewch os\ncaniatewch dau beth cyntaf--i'r peth cyntaf y cyffyrdaf ag ef wrth y\ndrws dorri, a'r peth cyntaf y rhof fy llaw arno yn y ty estyn hanner\nllath.' Yr oed carreg afael, fel ei gelwir, yn y mur wrth y drws ar\nei fford, ac yr oed gandi defnyd syrcyn gwlanen yn rhy fyr o hanner\nllath. Ond yn anffodus wrth dod a'i chawellad mawn i'r ty bu agos idi\na syrthio: rhoes ei llaw ar ben ei chlun i ymarbed a thorod honno,\na chan faint y boen cyffyrdod yny ty a'i thrwyn yr hwn a estynnod\nhanner llath.\n\n'It is said that there was a place called Hafod Rugog in a wild\nhollow among the mountains, where the fair family were in the habit of\nresorting, and that they used to trouble the old woman of Hafod for\nthe loan of one thing and another. So she said, one day, \"You shall\nhave the loan if you will grant me two first things--that the first\nthing I touch at the door break, and that the first thing I put my\nhand on in the house be lengthened half a yard.\" There was a grip\nstone (carreg afael), as it is called, in the wall near the door,\nwhich was in her way, and she had in the house a piece of flannel\nfor a jerkin which was half a yard too short. But, unfortunately,\nas she came, with her kreel full of turf on her back, to the house,\nshe nearly fell down: she put her hand, in order to save herself,\nto her knee-joint, which then broke; and, owing to the pain, when she\nhad got into the house, she touched her nose with her hand, when her\nnose grew half a yard longer.'\n\nMr. Jones went on to notice how the old folks used to believe that the\nfairies were wont to appear in the marshes near Cwellyn Lake, not far\nfrom Rhyd-Du, to sing and dance, and that it was considered dangerous\nto approach them on those occasions lest one should be fascinated. As\nto the above-mentioned flannel and stone a folklorist asks me, why\nthe old woman did not definitely mention them and say exactly what\nshe wanted. The question is worth asking: I cannot answer it, but I\nmention it in the hope that somebody else will.\n\n\n\n\nII.\n\nEarly in the year 1899 [39] I had a small group of stories communicated\nto me by the Rev. W. Evans Jones, rector of Dolbenmaen, who tells me\nthat the neighbourhood of the Garn abounds in fairy tales. The scene\nof one of these is located near the source of Afon fach Blaen y Cae,\na tributary of the Dwyfach. 'There a shepherd while looking after\nhis flock came across a ring of rushes which he accidentally kicked,\nas the little people were coming out to dance. They detained him,\nand he married one of their number. He was told that he would live\nhappily with them as long as he would not touch any instrument of\niron. For years nothing happened to mar the peace and happiness of\nthe family. One day, however, he unknowingly touched iron, with the\nconsequence that both the wife and the children disappeared.' This\ndiffers remarkably from stories such as have been already mentioned\nat pp. 32, 35; but until it is countenanced by stories from other\nsources, I can only treat it as a blurred version of a story of the\nmore usual type, such as the next one which Mr. Evans Jones has sent\nme as follows:--\n\n'A son of the farmer of Blaen Pennant married a fairy and they\nlived together happily for years, until one day he took a bridle\nto catch a horse, which proved to be rather an obstreperous animal,\nand in trying to prevent the horse passing, he threw the bridle at\nhim, which, however, missed the animal and hit the wife so that the\nbit touched her, and she at once disappeared. The tradition goes,\nthat their descendants are to this day living in the Pennant Valley;\nand if there is any unpleasantness between them and their neighbours\nthey are taunted with being of the Tylwyth Teg family.' These are,\nI presume, the people nicknamed Belsiaid, to which reference has\nalready been made.\n\nThe next story is about an old woman from Garn Dolbenmaen who was\ncrossing y Graig Goch, 'the Red Rock,' 'when suddenly she came across a\nfairy sitting down with a very large number of gold coins by her. The\nold woman ventured to remark how wealthy she was: the fairy replied,\nWele dacw, \"Lo there!\" and immediately disappeared.' This looks as\nif it ought to be a part of a longer story which Mr. Evans Jones has\nnot heard.\n\nThe last bit of folklore which he has communicated is equally short,\nbut of a rarer description: 'A fairy was in the habit of attending\na certain family in the Pennant Valley every evening to put the\nchildren to bed; and as the fairy was poorly clad, the mistress of\nthe house gave her a gown, which was found in the morning torn into\nshreds.' The displeasure of the fairy at being offered the gown is\nparalleled by that of the fenodyree or the Manx brownie, described in\nchapter iv. As for the kind of service here ascribed to the Pennant\nfairy, I know nothing exactly parallel.\n\n\n\n\nIII.\n\nThe next four stories are to be found in Cymru Fu at pp. 175-9, whence\nI have taken the liberty of translating them into English. They were\ncontributed by Glasynys, whose name has already occurred so often in\nconnexion with these Welsh legends, that the reader ought to know more\nabout him; but I have been disappointed in my attempt to get a short\naccount of his life to insert here. All I can say is, that I made\nhis acquaintance in 1865 in Anglesey: at that time he had a curacy\nnear Holyhead, and he was in the prime of life. He impressed me as an\nenthusiast for Welsh antiquities: he was born and bred, I believe,\nin the neighbourhood of Snowdon, and his death took place about ten\nyears ago. It would be a convenience to the student of Welsh folklore\nto have a brief biography of Glasynys, but as yet nothing of the kind\nseems to have been written.\n\n(1) 'When the people of the Gors Goch one evening had just gone to bed,\nthey heard a great row and disturbance around the house. One could\nnot comprehend at all what it was that made a noise at that time\nof night. Both the husband and the wife had waked up, quite unable\nto make out what it might be. The children also woke, but no one\ncould utter a word: their tongues had all stuck to the roof of their\nmouths. The husband, however, at last managed to move, and to ask,\n\"Who is there? What do you want?\" Then he was answered from without by\na small silvery voice, \"It is room we want to dress our children.\" The\ndoor was opened: a dozen small beings came in, and began to search\nfor an earthen pitcher with water; there they remained for some hours,\nwashing and titivating themselves. As the day was breaking, they went\naway, leaving behind them a fine present for the kindness they had\nreceived. Often afterwards did the Gors Goch folks have the company\nof this family. But once there happened to be there a fine plump and\npretty baby in his cradle. The fair family came, and, as the baby\nhad not been baptized, they took the liberty of changing him for one\nof their own. They left behind in his stead an abominable creature\nthat would do nothing but cry and scream every day of the week. The\nmother was nearly breaking her heart on account of the misfortune,\nand greatly afraid of telling anybody about it. But everybody got to\nsee that there was something wrong at the Gors Goch, which was proved\nbefore long by the mother dying of longing for her child. The other\nchildren died broken-hearted after their mother, and the husband was\nleft alone with the little elf without any one to comfort them. But\nshortly after, one began to resort again to the hearth of the Gors\nGoch to dress children, and the gift, which had formerly been silver\nmoney, became henceforth pure gold. In the course of a few years the\nelf became the heir of a large farm in North Wales, and that is why\nthe old people used to say, \"Shoe the elf with gold and he will grow\"\n(Fe daw gwidon yn fawr ond ei bedoli ag aur). That is the legend of\nthe Gors Goch.'\n\n(2) 'Once when William Ellis, of the Gilwern, was fishing on the bank\nof Cwm Silin Lake on a dark misty day, he had seen no living Christian\nfrom the time when he left Nantlle. But as he was in a happy mood,\nthrowing his line, he beheld over against him in a clump of rushes a\nlarge crowd of people, or things in the shape of people about a foot\nin stature: they were engaged in leaping and dancing. He looked on\nfor hours, and he never heard, as he said, such music in his life\nbefore. But William went too near them, when they threw a kind of\ndust into his eyes, and, while he was wiping it away, the little\nfamily took the opportunity of betaking themselves somewhere out of\nhis sight, so that he neither saw nor heard anything more of them.'\n\n(3) 'There is a similar story respecting a place called Llyn y\nFfynhonnau. There was no end of jollity there, of dancing, harping, and\nfiddling, with the servant man of Gelli Ffrydau and his two dogs in the\nmidst of the crowd, leaping and capering as nimbly as anybody else. At\nit they were for three days and three nights, without stopping; and\nhad it not been for a skilled man, who lived not far off, and came to\nknow how things were going on, the poor fellow would, without doubt,\nhave danced himself to death. But he was rescued that time.'\n\n(4) The fourth story is one, of which he says, that he heard it from\nhis mother; but he has elaborated it in his usual fashion, and the\nproper names are undoubtedly his own:--'Once on a time, a shepherd\nboy had gone up the mountain. That day, like many a day before and\nafter, was exceedingly misty. Now, though he was well acquainted\nwith the place, he lost his way, and walked backwards and forwards\nfor many a long hour. At last he got into a low rushy spot, where he\nsaw before him many circular rings. He at once recalled the place,\nand began to fear the worst. He had heard, many hundreds of times,\nof the bitter experiences, in those rings, of many a shepherd who had\nhappened to chance on the dancing place or the circles of the fair\nfamily. He hastened away as fast as ever he could, lest he should be\nruined like the rest; but, though he exerted himself to the point of\nperspiring and losing his breath, there he was, and there he continued\nto be, a long time. At last he was met by an old fat little man, with\nmerry blue eyes, who asked him what he was doing. He answered that\nhe was trying to find his way home. \"Oh,\" said he, \"come after me,\nand do not utter a word until I bid thee.\" This he did, following him\non and on until they came to an oval stone; and the old fat little\nman lifted it, after tapping the middle of it three times with his\nwalking-stick. There was there a narrow path with stairs visible here\nand there; and a sort of whitish light, inclining to grey and blue,\nwas to be seen radiating from the stones. \"Follow me fearlessly,\"\nsaid the fat man; \"no harm will be done thee.\" So on the poor youth\nwent, as reluctantly as a dog to be hanged. But presently a fine,\nwooded, fertile country spread itself out before them, with well\narranged mansions dotting it all over, while every kind of apparent\nmagnificence met the eye and seemed to smile in the landscape; the\nbright waters of the rivers meandered in twisted streams, and the\nhills were covered with the luxuriant verdure of their grassy growth,\nand the mountains with a glossy fleece of smooth pasture. By the time\nthey had reached the stout gentleman's mansion, the young man's senses\nhad been bewildered by the sweet cadence of the music which the birds\npoured forth from the groves: then there was gold dazzling his eyes,\nand silver flashing on his sight. He saw there all kinds of musical\ninstruments and all sorts of things for playing; but he could discern\nno inhabitant in the whole place; and, when he sat down to eat, the\ndishes on the table came to their places of themselves, and disappeared\nwhen one had done with them. This puzzled him beyond measure; moreover,\nhe heard people talking together around him, but for the life of him\nhe could see no one but his old friend. At length the fat man said\nto him: \"Thou canst now talk as much as it may please thee;\" but,\nwhen he attempted to move his tongue, it would no more stir than if it\nhad been a lump of ice, which greatly frightened him. At this point,\na fine old lady, with health and benevolence beaming in her face, came\nto them and slightly smiled at the shepherd: the mother was followed\nby her three daughters, who were remarkably beautiful. They gazed with\nsomewhat playful looks at him, and at length began to talk to him;\nbut his tongue would not wag. Then one of the girls came to him, and,\nplaying with his yellow and curly locks, gave him a smart kiss on his\nruddy lips. This loosened the string that bound his tongue, and he\nbegan to talk freely and eloquently. There he was, under the charm of\nthat kiss, in the bliss of happiness; and there he remained a year and\na day without knowing that he had passed more than a day among them;\nfor he had got into a country where there was no reckoning of time. But\nby-and-by he began to feel somewhat of a longing to visit his old home,\nand asked the stout man if he might go. \"Stay a little yet,\" said he,\n\"and thou shalt go for awhile.\" That passed: he stayed on, but Olwen,\nfor that was the name of the damsel that had kissed him, was very\nunwilling that he should depart. She looked sad every time he talked\nof going away; nor was he himself without feeling a sort of a cold\nthrill passing through him at the thought of leaving her. On condition,\nhowever, of returning, he obtained leave to go, provided with plenty\nof gold and silver, of trinkets and gems. When he reached home, nobody\nknew who he was: it had been the belief that he had been killed by\nanother shepherd, who found it necessary to betake himself hastily far\naway to America, lest he should be hanged without delay. But here is\nEinion L\u00e2s at home, and everybody wonders especially to see that the\nshepherd had got to look like a wealthy man: his manners, his dress,\nhis language, and the treasure he had with him, all conspired to give\nhim the air of a gentleman. He went back one Thursday night, the first\nof the moon of that month, as suddenly as he had left the first time,\nand nobody knew whither. There was great joy in the country below when\nEinion returned thither, and nobody was more rejoiced at it than Olwen\nhis beloved. The two were right impatient to get married; but it was\nnecessary to do that quietly, for the family below hated nothing more\nthan fuss and noise; so, in a sort of a half-secret fashion, they\nwere wedded. Einion was very desirous to go once more among his own\npeople, accompanied, to be sure, by his wife. After he had been long\nentreating the old man for leave, they set out on two white ponies,\nthat were, in fact, more like snow than anything else in point of\ncolour. So he arrived with his consort in his old home, and it was\nthe opinion of all that Einion's wife was the handsomest person they\nhad anywhere seen. Whilst at home, a son was born to them, to whom\nthey gave the name of Taliessin. Einion was now in the enjoyment\nof high repute, and his wife received due respect. Their wealth was\nimmense, and soon they acquired a large estate; but it was not long\ntill people began to inquire after the pedigree of Einion's wife: the\ncountry was of opinion that it was not the right thing to be without\na pedigree. Einion was questioned about it, but without giving any\nsatisfactory answer, and one came to the conclusion that she was one\nof the fair family (Tylwyth Teg). \"Certainly,\" replied Einion, \"there\ncan be no doubt that she comes from a very fair family; for she has\ntwo sisters who are as fair as she, and, if you saw them together,\nyou would admit that name to be a most fitting one.\" This, then,\nis the reason why the remarkable family in the Land of Enchantment\nand Glamour (Hud a Lledrith) is called the fair family.'\n\nThe two next tales of Glasynys' appear in Cymru Fu, at pp. 478-9;\nthe first of them is to be compared with one already related (pp. 99,\n100), while the other is unlike anything that I can now recall:--\n\n(5) 'Cwmllan was the principal resort of the fair family, and the\nshepherds of Hafod Llan used to see them daily in the ages of faith\ngone by. Once, on a misty afternoon, one of them had been searching\nfor sheep towards Nant y Bettws. When he had crossed Bwlch Cwmllan,\nand was hastening laboriously down, he saw an endless number of little\nfolks singing and dancing in a lively and light-footed fashion, while\nthe handsomest girls he had ever seen anywhere were at it preparing\na banquet. He went to them and had a share of their dainties, and it\nseemed to him that he had never in his life tasted anything approaching\ntheir dishes. When the twilight came, they spread their tents, and\nthe man never before saw such beauty and ingenuity. They gave him\na soft bed of yielding down, with sheets of the finest linen, and\nhe went to rest as proud as if he had been a prince. But, alas! next\nmorning, after all the jollity and sham splendour, the poor man, when\nhe opened his eyes, found that his bed was but a bush of bulrushes,\nand his pillow a clump of moss. Nevertheless, he found silver money\nin his shoes, and afterwards he continued for a long time to find,\nevery week, a piece of coined money between two stones near the spot\nwhere he had slept. One day, however, he told a friend of his the\nsecret respecting the money, and he never found any more.'\n\n(6) 'Another of these shepherds was one day urging his dog at the\nsheep in Cwmllan, when he heard a kind of low noise in the cleft\nof a rock. He turned to look, when he found there some kind of a\ncreature weeping plenteously. He approached, and drew out a wee lass;\nvery shortly afterwards two middle-aged men came to him to thank him\nfor his kindness, and, when about to part, one of them gave him a\nwalking-stick, as a souvenir of his good deed. The year after this,\nevery sheep in his possession had two ewe-lambs; and so his sheep\ncontinued to breed for some years. But he had stayed one evening in\nthe village until it was rather late, and there hardly ever was a\nmore tempestuous night than that: the wind howled, and the clouds\nshed their contents in sheets of rain, while the darkness was such\nthat next to nothing could be seen. As he was crossing the river that\ncomes down from Cwmllan, where its flood was sweeping all before it\nin a terrible current, he somehow let go the walking-stick from his\nhand; and when one went next morning up the Cwm, it was found that\nnearly all the sheep had been swept away by the flood, and that the\nfarmer's wealth had gone almost as it came--with the walking-stick.'\n\nThe shorter versions given by Glasynys are probably more nearly given\nas he heard them, than the longer ones, which may be suspected of\nhaving been a good deal spun out by him; but there is probably very\nlittle in any of them of his own invention, though the question whence\nhe got his materials in each instance may be difficult to answer. In\none this is quite clear, though he does not state it, namely the\nstory of the sojourn of Elfod the Shepherd in Fairyland, as given\nin Cymru Fu, p. 477: it is no other than a second or third-hand\nreproduction of that recorded by Giraldus concerning a certain\nEliodorus, a twelfth-century cleric in the diocese of St. David's\n[40]. But the longest tale published by Glasynys is the one about\na mermaid: see Cymru Fu, pp. 434-44. Where he got this from I have\nnot been able to find out, but it has probably been pieced together\nfrom various sources. I feel sure that some of the materials at least\nwere Welsh, besides the characters known to Welsh mythology as Nefyd\nNaf Neifion, Gwyn ab Nud, Gwydion ab D\u00f4n, Dylan, and Ceridwen, who\nhave been recklessly introduced into it. He locates it, apparently,\nsomewhere on the coast of Carnarvonshire, the chief scene being\ncalled Ogof Deio or David's Cave, which so far as I know is not an\nactual name, but one suggested by 'David Jones' locker' as sailors'\nslang for the sea. In hopes that somebody will communicate to me any\nbits of this tale that happen to be still current on the Welsh coast,\nI give an abstract of it here:--\n\n'Once upon a time, a poor fisherman made the acquaintance of a mermaid\nin a cave on the sea-coast; at first she screeched wildly, but, when\nshe got a little calmer, she told him to go off out of the way of\nher brother, and to return betimes the day after. In getting away,\nhe was tossed into the sea, and tossed out on the land with a rope,\nwhich had got wound about his waist; and on pulling at this he got\nashore a coffer full of treasure, which he spent the night in carrying\nhome. He was somewhat late in revisiting the cave the next day, and\nsaw no mermaid come there to meet him according to her promise. But\nthe following night he was roused out of his sleep by a visit from her\nat his home, when she told him to come in time next day. On his way\nthither, he learnt from some fishermen that they had been labouring in\nvain during the night, as a great big mermaid had opened their nets\nin order to pick the best fish, while she let the rest escape. When\nhe reached the cave he found the mermaid there combing her hair:\nshe surprised him by telling him that she had come to live among the\ninhabitants of the land, though she was, according to her own account,\na king's daughter. She was no longer stark naked, but dressed like a\nlady: in one hand she held a diadem of pure gold, and in the other a\ncap of wonderful workmanship, the former of which she placed on her\nhead, while she handed the latter to Ifan Morgan, with the order that\nhe should keep it. Then she related to him how she had noticed him\nwhen he was a ruddy boy, out fishing in his father's white boat, and\nheard him sing a song which made her love him, and how she had tried\nto repeat this song at her father's court, where everybody wanted\nto get it. Many a time, she said, she had been anxiously listening\nif she might hear it again, but all in vain. So she had obtained\npermission from her family to come with her treasures and see if he\nwould not teach it her; but she soon saw that she would not succeed\nwithout appearing in the form in which she now was. After saying\nthat her name was Nefyn, daughter of Nefyd Naf Neifion, and niece\nto Gwyn son of Nud, and Gwydion son of D\u00f4n, she calmed his feelings\non the subject of the humble cottage in which he lived. Presently he\nasked her to be his wife, and she consented on the condition that he\nshould always keep the cap she had given him out of her sight and\nteach her the song. They were married and lived happily together,\nand had children born them five times, a son and a daughter each time;\nthey frequently went to the cave, and no one knew what treasures they\nhad there; but once on a time they went out in a boat pleasuring, as\nwas their wont, with six or seven of the children accompanying them,\nand when they were far from the land a great storm arose; besides\nthe usual accompaniments of a storm at sea, most unearthly screeches\nand noises were heard, which frightened the children and made their\nmother look uncomfortable; but presently she bent her head over the\nside of the boat, and whispered something they did not catch: to their\nsurprise the sea was instantly calm. They got home comfortably, but\nthe elder children were puzzled greatly by their mother's influence\nover the sea, and it was not long after this till they so teased\nsome ill-natured old women, that the latter told them all about the\nuncanny origin of their mother. The eldest boy was vexed at this,\nand remembered how his mother had spoken to somebody near the boat\nat sea, and that he was never allowed to go with his parents to\nOgof Deio. He recalled, also, his mother's account of the strange\ncountries she had seen. Once there came also to Ifan Morgan's home,\nwhich was now a mansion, a visitor whom the children were not even\nallowed to see; and one night, when the young moon had sunk behind\nthe western horizon, Ifan and his wife went quietly out of the house,\ntelling a servant that they would not return for three weeks or a\nmonth: this was overheard by the eldest son. So he followed them very\nquietly until he saw them on the strand, where he beheld his mother\ncasting a sort of leather mantle round herself and his father, and\nboth of them threw themselves into the hollow of a billow that came\nto fetch them. The son went home, broke his heart, and died in nine\ndays at finding out that his mother was a mermaid; and, on seeing her\nbrother dead, his twin sister went and threw herself into the sea;\nbut, instead of being drowned, she was taken up on his steed by a\nfine looking knight, who then galloped away over the waves as if they\nhad been dry and level land. The servants were in doubt what to do,\nnow that Nefyd Morgan was dead and Eilonwy had thrown herself into\nthe sea; but Tegid, the second son, who feared nothing, said that\nNefyd's body should be taken to the strand, as somebody was likely to\ncome to fetch it for burial among his mother's family. At midnight a\nknight arrived, who said the funeral was to be at three that morning,\nand told them that their brother would come back to them, as Gwydion\nab D\u00f4n was going to give him a heart that no weight could break,\nthat Eilonwy was soon to be wedded to one of the finest and bravest\nof the knights of Gwerdonau Llion, and that their parents were with\nGwyn ab Nud in the Gwaelodion. The body was accordingly taken to the\nbeach, and, as soon as the wave touched it, out of his coffin leaped\nNefyd like a porpoise. He was seen then to walk away arm in arm with\nGwydion ab D\u00f4n to a ship that was in waiting, and most enchanting\nmusic was heard by those on shore; but soon the ship sailed away,\nhardly touching the tops of the billows. After a year and a day had\nelapsed Ifan Morgan, the father, came home, looking much better and\nmore gentlemanly than he had ever done before; he had never spoken of\nNefyn, his wife, until Tegid one day asked him what about his mother;\nshe had gone, he said, in search of Eilonwy, who had run away from her\nhusband in Gwerdonau Llion, with Glanfryd ab Gloywfraint. She would\nbe back soon, he thought, and describe to them all the wonders they\nhad seen. Ifan Morgan went to bed that night, and was found dead in\nit in the morning; it was thought that his death had been caused by\na Black Knight, who had been seen haunting the place at midnight for\nsome time, and always disappearing, when pursued, into a well that\nbubbled forth in a dark recess near at hand. The day of Ifan Morgan's\nfuneral, Nefyn, his wife, returned, and bewailed him with many tears;\nshe was never more seen on the dry land. Tegid had now the charge of\nthe family, and he conducted himself in all things as behoved a man\nand a gentleman of high principles and great generosity. He was very\nwealthy, but often grieved by the thought of his father's murder. One\nday, when he and two of his brothers were out in a boat fishing in the\nneighbouring bay, they were driven by the wind to the most wonderful\nspot they had ever seen. The sea there was as smooth as glass, and\nas bright as the clearest light, while beneath it, and not far from\nthem, they saw a most splendid country with fertile fields and dales\ncovered with pastures, with flowery hedges, groves clad in their green\nfoliage, and forests gently waving their leafy luxuriance, with rivers\nlazily contemplating their own tortuous courses, and with mansions\nhere and there of the most beautiful and ingenious description; and\npresently they saw that the inhabitants amused themselves with all\nkinds of merriment and frolicking, and that here and there they had\nmusic and engaged themselves in the most energetic dancing; in fact,\nthe rippling waves seemed to have absorbed their fill of the music,\nso that the faint echo of it, as gently given forth by the waves,\nnever ceased to charm their ears until they reached the shore. That\nnight the three brothers had the same dream, namely that the Black\nKnight who had throttled their father was in hiding in a cave on the\ncoast: so they made for the cave in the morning, but the Black Knight\nfled from them and galloped off on the waves as if he had been riding\nfor amusement over a meadow. That day their sisters, on returning home\nfrom school, had to cross a piece of sea, when a tempest arose and sunk\nthe vessel, drowning all on board, and the brothers ascribed this to\nthe Black Knight. About this time there was great consternation among\nthe fishermen on account of a sea-serpent that twined itself about\nthe rocks near the caves, and nothing would do but that Tegid and his\nbrothers should go forth to kill it; but when one day they came near\nthe spot frequented by it, they heard a deep voice saying to them,\n\"Do not kill your sister,\" so they wondered greatly and suddenly went\nhome. But that night Tegid returned there alone, and called his sister\nby her name, and after waiting a long while she crept towards him in\nthe shape of a sea-serpent, and said that she must remain some time in\nthat form on account of her having run away with one who was not her\nhusband; she went on to say that she had seen their sisters walking\nwith their mother, and their father would soon be in the cave. But all\nof a sudden there came the Black Knight, who unsheathed a sword that\nlooked like a flame of fire, and began to cut the sea-serpent into a\nthousand bits, which united, however, as fast as he cut it, and became\nas whole as before. The end was that the monster twisted itself in\na coil round his throat and bit him terribly in his breast. At this\npoint a White Knight comes and runs him through with his spear, so\nthat he fell instantly, while the White Knight went off hurriedly\nwith the sea-serpent in a coil round his neck. Tegid ran away for\nhis life, but not before a monster more terrible than anything he\nhad ever seen had begun to attack him. It haunted him in all kinds of\nways: sometimes it would be like a sea, but Tegid was able to swim:\nsometimes it would be a mountain of ice, but Tegid was able to climb\nit: and sometimes it was like a furnace of intense fire, but the heat\nhad no effect on him. But it appeared mostly as a combination of the\nbeast of prey and the venomous reptile. Suddenly, however, a young\nman appeared, taking hold of Tegid's arm and encouraging him, when\nthe monster fled away screeching, and a host of knights in splendid\narray and on proudly prancing horses came to him: among them he found\nhis brothers, and he went with them to his mother's country. He was\nespecially welcome there, and he found all happy and present save\nhis father only, whom he thought of fetching from the world above,\nhaving in fact got leave to do so from his grandfather. His mother\nand his brothers went with him to search for his father's body, and\nwith him came Gwydion ab D\u00f4n and Gwyn ab Nud, but he would not be\nwakened. So Tegid, who loved his father greatly, asked leave to remain\non his father's grave, where he remains to this day. His mother is\nwont to come there to soothe him, and his brothers send him gifts,\nwhile he sends his gifts to Nefyd Naf Neifion, his grandfather;\nit is also said that his twin-sister, Ceridwen, has long since come\nto live near him, to make the glad gladder and the pretty prettier,\nand to maintain her dignity and honour in peace and tranquillity.'\n\nThe latter part of this tale, the mention of Ceridwen, invoked by\nthe bards as the genius presiding over their profession, and of\nTegid remaining on his father's grave, is evidently a reference\nto Llyn Tegid, or Bala Lake, and to the legend of Taliessin in the\nso-called Hanes or history of Taliessin, published at the end of the\nthird volume of Lady Charlotte Guest's Mabinogion. So the story has\nundoubtedly been pieced together, but not all invented, as is proved\nby the reference to the curious cap which the husband was to keep\nout of the sight of his mermaid wife. In Irish legends this cap has\nparticular importance attached to it, of which Glasynys cannot have\nbeen aware, for he knew of no use to make of it. The teaching of\nthe song to the wife is not mentioned after the marriage; and the\nintroduction of it at all is remarkable: at any rate I have never\nnoticed anything parallel to it in other tales. The incident of the\ntempest, when the mermaid spoke to somebody by the side of the boat,\nreminds one of Undine during the trip on the Danube. It is, perhaps,\nuseless to go into details till one has ascertained how much of the\nstory has been based on genuine Welsh folklore. But, while I am on\nthis point, I venture to append here an Irish tale, which will serve\nto explain the meaning of the mermaid's cap, as necessary to her\ncomfort in the water world. I am indebted for it to the kindness of\nDr. Norman Moore, of St. Bartholomew's Hospital, who tells me, in a\nletter dated March 7, 1882, that he and the Miss Raynells of Killynon\nheard it from an old woman named Mrs. Dolan, who lived on the property\nof the late Mr. Cooke of Cookesborough, in Westmeath. The following\nwas her tale:--'There was a man named Mahon had a farm on the edge of\nLoch Owel. He noticed that his corn was trampled, and he sat up all\nnight to watch it. He saw horses, colts and fillies rather, come up\nout of the lake and trample it. He chased them, and they fled into the\nlake. The next night he saw them again, and among them a beautiful girl\nwith a cap of salmon skin on her head, and it shone in the moonlight;\nand he caught her and embraced her, and carried her off to his house\nand married her, and she was a very good housewife, as all those\nlake people are, and kept his house beautifully; and one day in the\nharvest, when the men were in the fields, she went into the house,\nand there she looked on the hurdle for some lard to make colcannon\n[41] for the men, and she saw her old cap of fish skin, and she put\nit on her head and ran straight down into the lake and was never seen\nany more, and Mahon he was terribly grieved, and he died soon after\nof a decline. She had had three children, and I often saw them in\nthe Mullingar market. They were farmers, too, on Loch Owel.'\n\n\n\n\nIV.\n\nLet me now return to the fresh-water fairies of Snowdon and give\na reference to Pennant's Tours in Wales: in the edition published\nat Carnarvon in 1883 we are told, ii. 326, how Mr. Pennant learned\n'that, in fairy days, those diminutive gentry kept their revels' on the\nmargins of the Snowdon lake, called Llyn Coch. There is no legend now\nextant, so far as I can ascertain, about the Llyn Coch fairies. So\nI proceed to append a legend differing considerably from all the\nforegoing: I owe it to the kindness of my friend Mr. Howell Thomas,\nof the Local Government Board. It was written out by Mr. G. B. Gattie,\nand I take the liberty of prefixing to it his letter to Mr. Thomas,\ndated Walham Grove, London, S.W., April 27, 1882. The letter runs\nas follows:--\n\n'I had quite forgotten the enclosed, which I had jotted down during\nmy recent illness, and ought to have sent you long ago. Of course, the\nwording is very rough, as no care has been taken on that point. It is\ninteresting, as being another version of a very pretty old legend which\nmy mother used to repeat. She was descended from a very old north Welsh\nfamily; indeed, I believe my esteemed grandfather went so far as to\ntrace his descent from the great patriot, Owen Glendower himself! My\nmother delighted not only in the ancient folklore legends and fairy\ntales of the Principality, with which she was perfectly familiar,\nbut especially in the lovely national melodies, all of which she\nknew by heart; and, being highly accomplished, would never tire of\nplaying or singing them. You will see the legend is, in the main,\nmuch as related by Professor Rhys, though differing somewhat in the\nsingular terms of the marriage contract. The scene of the legend,\nas related by my late mother, was, of course, a lake, the Welsh name\nof which I have, unfortunately, forgotten, but it was somewhere,\nI think, near Llanberis, and the hero a stalwart young farmer.'\n\nThe legend itself reads as follows:--\n\n'One hot day, the farmer, riding by the lake, took his horse into the\nwater to drink, and, whilst looking straight down over his horse's\nears into the smooth surface, he became aware of a most lovely face,\njust beneath the tide, looking up archly at him. Quite bewildered,\nhe earnestly beckoned, and by degrees the head and shoulders which\nbelonged to the face emerged from the water. Overcome with emotion,\nand nearly maddened by the blaze of beauty so suddenly put before\nhim, he leaped from his horse and rushed wildly into the lake to try\nto clasp the lovely vision to his heart. As this was a clear case\nof \"love at first sight,\" the poor young man was not, of course,\nanswerable for his actions. But the vision had vanished beneath the\nwaves, to instantly reappear, however, a yard or two off, with the most\nprovoking of smiles, and holding out her beautiful white hands towards\nher admirer, but slipping off into deep water the moment he approached.\n\n'For many days the young farmer frequented the lake, but without\nagain seeing the beautiful Naiad, until one day he sat down by the\nmargin hoping that she would appear, and yet dreading her appearance,\nfor this latter to him simply meant loss of all peace. Yet he rushed\non his fate, like the love-sick shepherd in the old Italian romance,\nwho watched the sleeping beauty, yet dreaded her awakening:--Io\nperder\u00f2 la pace, quando si sveglier\u00e0!\n\n'The young man had brought the remains of his frugal dinner with\nhim, and was quietly munching, by way of dessert, an apple of rare\nand delicious quality, from a tree which grew upon a neighbouring\nestate. Suddenly the lady appeared in all her rare beauty almost\nclose to him, and begged him to \"throw\" her one of his apples. This\nwas altogether too much, and he replied by holding out the tempting\nmorsel, exhibiting its beautiful red and green sides, saying that,\nif she really wanted it, she must fetch it herself. Upon this she\ncame up quite close, and, as she took the apple from his left hand,\nhe dexterously seized tight hold of her with his right, and held\nher fast. She, however, nothing daunted, bawled lustily, at the top\nof her voice, for help, and made such an outrageous noise, that at\nlength a most respectable looking old gentleman appeared suddenly\nout of the midst of the lake. He had a superb white beard, and was\nsimply and classically attired merely in a single wreath of beautiful\nwater-lilies wound round his loins, which was possibly his summer\ncostume, the weather being hot. He politely requested to know what was\nthe matter, and what the young farmer wanted with his daughter. The\ncase was thereupon explained, but not without the usual amount of\nnervous trepidation which usually happens to love-sick swains when\ncalled into the awful presence of \"Papa\" to \"explain their intentions!\"\n\n'After a long parley the lady, at length, agreed to become the young\nman's wife on two conditions, which he was to solemnly promise to\nkeep. These conditions were that he was never to strike her with\nsteel or clay (earth), conditions to which the young man very readily\nassented. As these were primitive days, when people were happy and\nhonest, there were no lawyers to encumber the Holy Estate with lengthy\nsettlements, and to fill their own pockets with heavy fees; matters\nwere therefore soon settled, and the lady married to the young farmer\non the spot by the very respectable old lake deity, her papa.\n\n'The story goes on to say that the union was followed by two sons and\ntwo daughters. The eldest son became a great physician, and all his\ndescendants after him were celebrated for their great proficiency\nin the noble healing art. The second son was a mighty craftsman\nin all works appertaining to the manufacture and use of iron and\nmetals. Indeed it has been hinted that, his little corracle of bull's\nhide having become old and unsafe, he conceived the brilliant idea of\nmaking one of thin iron. This he actually accomplished, and, to the\nintense amazement of the wondering populace, he constantly used it\nfor fishing, or other purposes, on the lake, where he paddled about in\nperfect security. This important fact ought to be more generally known,\nas it gives him a fair claim to the introduction of iron ship-building,\npace the shades of Beaufort and Brunel.\n\n'Of the two daughters, one is said to have invented the small\nten-stringed harp, and the other the spinning-wheel. Thus were\nintroduced the arts of medicine, manufactures, music, and woollen work.\n\n'As the old ballad says, applying the quotation to the father and\nmother:--\n\n\n            They lived for more than forty year\n              Right long and happilie!\n\n\n'One day it happened that the wife expressed a great wish for some\nof those same delicious apples of which she was so fond, and of\nwhich their neighbour often sent them a supply. Off went the farmer,\nlike a good husband that he was, and brought back, not only some\napples, but a beautiful young sapling, seven or eight feet high,\nbearing the same apple, as a present from their friend. This they\nat once proceeded to set, he digging and she holding; but the hole\nnot being quite deep enough he again set to work, with increased\nenergy, with his spade, and stooping very low threw out the last\nshovelful over his shoulder--alas! without looking--full into the\nbreast of his wife. She dropped the sapling and solemnly warned him\nthat one of the two conditions of their marriage contract had been\nbroken. Accident was pleaded, but in vain; there was the unfortunate\nfact--he had struck her with clay! Looking upon the sapling as the\ncause of this great trouble he determined to return it forthwith to\nhis kind neighbour. Taking a bridle in his hand he proceeded to the\nfield to catch his horse, his wife kindly helping him. They both\nran up, one on each side, and, as the unruly steed showed no signs\nof stopping, the husband attempted to throw the bridle over his\nhead. Not having visited Mexico in his travels, and thereby learned\nthe use of the lasso, he missed his horse's head and--misfortune\nof misfortunes--struck his wife in the face with the iron bit, thus\nbreaking the second condition. He had struck her with steel. She no\nsooner received the blow than--like Esau--she \"cried with a great\nand exceeding bitter cry,\" and bidding her husband a last farewell,\nfled down the hill with lightning speed, dashed into the lake, and\ndisappeared beneath the smooth and glassy waters! Thus, it may be\nsaid that, if an apple--indirectly--occasioned the beginning of her\nmarried life, so an apple brought about its sad termination.'\n\nSuch is Mr. Gattie's tale, and to him probably is to be traced its\nliterary trimming; but even when it is stripped of that accessory,\nit leaves us with difficulties of somewhat the same order as those\nattaching to some of the stories which have passed through the hands\nof Glasynys. However, the substance of it seems to be genuine, and\nto prove that there has been a Northwalian tradition which traced the\nmedical art to a lake lady like the Egeria of the Physicians of Mydfai.\n\n\n\n\nV.\n\nAllusion has already been made to the afanc story, and it is convenient\nto give it before proceeding any further. The Cambrian Journal for\n1859, pp. 142-6, gives it in a letter of Edward Llwyd's dated 1693,\nand contributed to that periodical by the late Canon Robert Williams,\nof Rhyd y Croesau, who copied it from the original letter in his\npossession [42], and here follows a translation into English of the\npart of it which concerns Llyn yr Afanc [43], a pool on the river\nConwy, above Bettws y Coed and opposite Capel Garmon:--\n\n'I suppose it very probable that you have heard speak of Llyn yr Afanc,\n\"the Afanc's Pool,\" and that I therefore need not trouble to inform\nyou where it stands. I think, also, that you know, if one may trust\nwhat the country people say, that it was a girl that enticed the\nafanc to come out of his abode, namely the pool, so as to be bound\nwith iron chains, whilst he slumbered with his head on her knees,\nand with the grip of one hand on her breast. When he woke from his\nnap and perceived what had been done to him, he got up suddenly\nand hurried to his old refuge, taking with him in his claw the\nbreast of his sweetheart. It was then seen that it was well the\nchain was long enough to be fastened to oxen that pulled him out of\nthe pool. Thereupon a considerable dispute arose among some of the\npeople, each asserting that he had taken a great weight on himself and\npulled far harder than anybody else. \"No,\" said another, \"it was I,\"\n&c. And whilst they were wrangling in this way, the report goes that\nthe afanc answered them, and silenced their discontent by saying--\n\n\n            Oni bae y dai ag a dyn\n            Ni dactha'r afanc byth o'r llyn.\n\n            Had it not been for the oxen pulling,\n            The afanc had never left the pool.\n\n\n'You must understand that some take the afanc to be a corporeal\ndemon; but I am sufficiently satisfied that there is an animal of the\nsame name, which is called in English a bever, seeing that the term\nceillie'r afanc signifies bever stones. I know not what kind of oxen\nthose in question were, but it is related that they were twins; nor\ndo I know why they were called Ychain Mannog or Ychain Bannog. But\nperadventure they were called Ychain Bannog in reference to their\nhaving had many a fattening, or fattening on fattening (having been\nfor many a year fattened). Yet the word bannog is not a good, suitable\nword to signify fattened, as bannog is nought else than what has been\nmade exceeding thick by beating [or fulling], as one says of a thick\nblanket made of coarse yarn (y gwrthban tew-bannog), the thick bannog\n[44] blanket. Whilst I was dawdling behind talking about this, the oxen\nhad proceeded very far, and I did not find their footmarks as they came\nthrough portions of the parish of Dolyd-Elan (Luedog) until I reached\na pass called ever since Bwlch Rhiw'r Ychen, \"the Pass of the Slope\nof the Oxen,\" between the upper parts of Dolydelan and the upper part\nof Nanhwynen. In coming over this pass one of the oxen dropped one\nof its eyes on an open spot, which for that reason is called Gwaun\nLygad Ych, \"the Moor of the Ox's Eye.\" The place where the eye fell\nhas become a pool, which is by this time known as Pwll Llygad Ych,\n\"the Pool of the Ox's Eye,\" which is at no time dry, though no water\nrises in it or flows into it except when rain falls; nor is there any\nflowing out of it during dry weather. It is always of the same depth;\nthat is, it reaches about one's knee-joint, according to those who\nhave paid attention to that for a considerable number of years. There\nis a harp melody, which not all musicians know: it is known as the\nYchain Mannog air, and it has a piteous effect on the ear, being as\nplaintive as were the groanings of these Ychain under the weight of\nthe afanc, especially when one of the pair lost an eye. They pulled\nhim up to Llyn Cwm Ffynnon Las, \"the Lake of the Dingle of the Green\nWell,\" to which he was consigned, for the reason, peradventure, that\nsome believed that there were in that lake uncanny things already in\nstore. In fact, it was but fitting that he should be permitted to\ngo to his kind. But whether there were uncanny things in it before\nor not, many think that there is nothing good in it now, as you will\nunderstand from what follows. There is much talk of Llyn Cwm Ffynnon\nLas besides the fact that it is always free from ice, except in one\ncorner where the peat water of clear pools comes into it, and that it\nhas also a variety of dismal hues. The cause of this is, as I suppose,\nto be sought in the various hues of the rocks surrounding it; and the\nfact that a whirlwind makes its water mixed, which is enough to give\nany lake a disagreeable colour. Nothing swims on it without danger,\nand I am not sure that it would be very safe for a bird to fly across\nit or not. Throw a rag into its water and it will go to the bottom,\nand I have with my own ears heard a man saying that he saw a goat\ntaking to this lake in order to avoid being caught, and that as soon\nas the animal went into the water, it turned round and round, as if\nit had been a top, until it was drowned.... Some mention that, as\nsome great man was hunting in the Snowdon district (Eryri), a stag,\nto avoid the hounds when they were pressing on him, and as is the\nhabit of stags to defend themselves, made his escape into this lake:\nthe hunters had hardly time to turn round before they saw the stag's\nantlers (mwnglws) coming to the surface, but nothing more have they\never seen.... A young woman has been seen to come out of this lake\nto wash clothes, and when she had done she folded the clothes, and\ntaking them under her arm went back into the lake. One man, whose\nbrother is still alive and well, beheld in a canoe, on this same lake\nstill, an angler with a red cap on his head; but the man died within\na few days, having not been in his right mind during that time. Most\npeople regard this as the real truth, and, as for myself, I cannot\nrefuse to believe that such a vision might not cause a man to become\nso bewildered as to force on a disease ending with his death....'\n\nThe name Llyn Cwm Ffynnon Las would have led one to suppose that\nthe pool meant is the one given in the ordnance maps as Llyn y\nCwm Ffynnon, and situated in the mountains between Pen y Gwryd and\nthe upper valley of Llanberis; but from the writer on the parish of\nBedgelert in the Brython for 1861, pp. 371-2, it appears that this is\nnot so, and that the tarn meant was in the upper reach of Cwm Dyli,\nand was known as Llyn y Ffynnon Las, 'Lake of the Green Well,' about\nwhich he has a good deal to say in the same strain as that of Llwyd in\nthe letter already cited. Among other things he remarks that it is a\nvery deep tarn, and that its bottom has been ascertained to be lower\nthan the surface of Llyn Llydaw, which lies 300 feet lower. And as\nto the afanc, he remarks that the inhabitants of Nant Conwy and the\nlower portions of the parish of Dolwydelan, having frequent troubles\nand losses inflicted on them by a huge monster in the river Conwy,\nnear Bettws y Coed, tried to kill it but in vain, as no harpoon, no\narrow or spear made any impression whatsoever on the brute's hide;\nso it was resolved to drag it away as in the Llwyd story. I learn from\nMr. Pierce (Elis o'r Nant), of Dolwydelan, that the lake is variously\nknown as Llyn (Cwm) Ffynnon Las, and Llyn Glas or Glaslyn: this last\nis the form which I find in the maps. It is to be noticed that the\nNant Conwy people, by dragging the afanc there, got him beyond their\nown watershed, so that he could no more cause floods in the Conwy.\n\nHere, as promised at p. 74, I append Lewis Glyn Cothi's words as to\nthe afanc in Llyn Syfadon. The bard is dilating in the poem, where\nthey occur, on his affection for his friend Llywelyn ab Gwilym ab\nThomas Vaughan, of Bryn Hafod in the Vale of Towy, and averring that\nit would be as hard to induce him to quit his friend's hospitable home,\nas it was to get the afanc away from the Lake of Syfadon, as follows:--\n\n\n            Yr avanc er ei ovyn\n            Wyv yn llech ar vin y llyn;\n            O d\u00f2n Llyn Syfadon vo\n            Ni thynwyd ban aeth yno:\n            Ni'm tyn m\u00e8n nag ychain gwaith,\n            Odiyma hedyw ymaith. [45]\n\n            The afanc am I, who, sought for, bides\n            In hiding on the edge of the lake;\n            Out of the waters of Syfadon Mere\n            Was he not drawn, once he got there.\n            So with me: nor wain nor oxen wont to toil\n            Me to-day will draw from here forth.\n\n\nFrom this passage it would seem that the Syfadon story contemplated\nthe afanc being taken away from the lake in a cart or waggon drawn by\noxen; but whether driven by Hu, or by whom, one is not told. However,\nthe story must have represented the undertaking as a failure, and\nthe afanc as remaining in his lake: had it been otherwise it would\nbe hard to see the point of the comparison.\n\n\n\n\nVI.\n\nThe parish of Llanfachreth and its traditions have been the subject\nof some contributions to the first volume of the Taliesin published\nat Ruthin in 1859-60, pp. 132-7, by a writer who calls himself\nCofiadur. It was Glasynys, I believe, for the style seems to be his:\nhe pretends to copy from an old manuscript of Hugh Bifan's--both the\nmanuscript and its owner were fictions of Glasynys' as I am told. These\njottings contain two or three items about the fairies which seem to\nbe genuine:--\n\n'The bottom of Llyn Cynnwch, on the Nannau estate, is level with the\nhearth-stone of the house of D\u00f4l y Clochyd. Its depth was found out\nowing to the sweetheart of one of Siwsi's girls having lost his way\nto her from Nannau, where he was a servant. The poor man had fallen\ninto the lake, and gone down and down, when he found it becoming\nclearer the lower he got, until at last he alighted on a level spot\nwhere everybody and everything looked much as he had observed on\nthe dry land. When he had reached the bottom of the lake, a short\nfat old gentleman came to him and asked his business, when he told\nhim how it happened that he had come. He met with great welcome,\nand he stayed there a month without knowing that he had been there\nthree days, and when he was going to leave, he was led out to his\nbeloved by the inhabitants of the lake bottom. He asserted that the\nwhole way was level except in one place, where they descended about\na fathom into the ground; but, he added, it was necessary to ascend\nabout as much to reach the hearth-stone of D\u00f4l y Clochyd. The most\nwonderful thing, however, was that the stone lifted itself as he came\nup from the subterranean road towards it. It was thus the sweetheart\narrived there one evening, when the girl was by the fire weeping for\nhim. Siwsi had been out some days before, and she knew all about it\nthough she said nothing to anybody. This, then, was the way in which\nthe depth of Llyn Cynnwch came to be known.'\n\nThen he has a few sentences about an old house called\nCeimarch:--'Ceimarch was an old mansion of considerable repute,\nand in old times it was considered next to Nannau in point of\nimportance in the whole district. There was a deep ditch round it,\nwhich was always kept full of water, with the view of keeping off\nvagabonds and thieves, as well as other lawless folks, that they\nmight not take the inmates by surprise. But, in distant ages, this\nplace was very noted for the frequent visits paid it by the fair\nfamily. They used to come to the ditch to wash themselves, and to\ncross the water in boats made of the bark of the rowan-tree [46],\nor else birch, and they came into the house to pay their rent for\ntrampling the ground around the place. They always placed a piece\nof money under a pitcher, and the result was that the family living\nthere became remarkably rich. But somehow, after the lapse of many\nyears, the owner of the place offended them, by showing disrespect\nfor their diminutive family: soon the world began to go against him,\nand it was not long before he got low in life. Everything turned\nagainst him, and in times past everybody believed that he incurred\nall this because he had earned the displeasure of the fair family.'\n\nIn the Brython for the year 1862, p. 456, in the course of an essay\non the history of the Lordship of Mawdwy in Merioneth, considered the\nbest in a competition at an Eistedfod held at Dinas Mawdwy, August\n2, 1855, Glasynys gives the following bit about the fairies of that\nneighbourhood:--'The side of Aran Fawdwy is a great place for the fair\nfamily: they are ever at it playing their games on the hillsides about\nthis spot. It is said that they are numberless likewise about Bwlch y\nGroes. Once a boy crossed over near the approach of night, one summer\neve, from the Gadfa to Mawdwy, and on his return he saw near Aber\nRhiwlech a swarm of the little family dancing away full pelt. The boy\nbegan to run, with two of the maidens in pursuit of him, entreating\nhim to stay; but Robin, for that was his name, kept running, and the\ntwo elves failed altogether to catch him, otherwise he would have been\ntaken a prisoner of love. There are plenty of their dancing-rings to\nbe seen on the hillsides between Aber Rhiwlech and Bwlch y Groes.'\n\nHere I would introduce two other Merionethshire tales, which I have\nreceived from Mr. E. S. Roberts, master of the Llandysilio School,\nnear Llangollen. He has learnt them from one Abel Evans, who lives\nat present in the parish of Llandysilio: he is a native of the parish\nof Llandrillo on the slopes of the Berwyn, and of a glen in the same,\nknown as Cwm Pennant, so called from its being drained by the Pennant\non its way to join the Dee. Now Cwm Pennant was the resort of fairies,\nor of a certain family of them, and the occurrence, related in the\nfollowing tale, must have taken place no less than seventy years ago:\nit was well known to the late Mrs. Ellen Edwards of Llandrillo:--\n\nRyw diwrnod aeth dau gyfaill i hela dwfrgwn ar hyd lannau afon Pennant,\na thra yn cyfeirio eu camrau tuagat yr afon gwelsant ryw greadur\nbychan lliwgoch yn rhedeg yn gyflym iawn ar draws un o'r dolyd yn\nnghyfeiriad yr afon. Ymaeth a nhw ar ei ol. Gwelsant ei fod wedi myned\noditan wraid coeden yn ochr yr afon i ymgudio. Yr oed y dau dyn yn\nmedwl mae dwfrgi ydoed, ond ar yr un pryd yn methu a deall paham yr\nymdanghosai i'w llygaid yn lliwgoch. Yr oedynt yn dymuno ei dal yn\nfyw, ac ymaith yr aeth un o honynt i ffarmdy gerllaw i ofyn am sach,\nyr hon a gafwyd, er mwyn rhoi y creadur yndi. Yr oed yno dau dwll\no tan wraid y pren, a thra daliai un y sach yn agored ar un twll\nyr oed y llall yn hwthio ffon i'r twll arall, ac yn y man aeth y\ncreadur i'r sach. Yr oed y dau dyn yn medwl eu bod wedi dal dwfrgi,\nyr hyn a ystyrient yn orchest nid bychan. Cychwynasant gartref yn\nllawen ond cyn eu myned hyd lled cae, llefarod lletywr y sach mewn\nton drist gan dywedyd--'Y mae fy mam yn galw am danaf, O, mae fy mam\nyn galw am danaf,' yr hyn a rodod fraw mawr i'r dau heliwr, ac yn\ny man taflasant y sach i lawr, a mawr oed eu rhyfedod a'u dychryn\npan welsant dyn bach mewn gwisg goch yn rhedeg o'r sach tuagat yr\nafon. Fe a diflannod o'i golwg yn mysg y drysni ar fin yr afon. Yr\noed y dau wedi eu brawychu yn dirfawr ac yn teimlo mae doethach oed\nmyned gartref yn hytrach nag ymyrraeth yn mhellach a'r Tylwyth Teg.\n\n'One day, two friends went to hunt otters on the banks of the\nPennant, and when they were directing their steps towards the river,\nthey beheld some small creature of a red colour running fast across\nthe meadows in the direction of the river. Off they ran after it,\nand saw that it went beneath the roots of a tree on the brink of\nthe river to hide itself. The two men thought it was an otter, but,\nat the same time, they could not understand why it seemed to them\nto be of a red colour. They wished to take it alive, and off one of\nthem went to a farm house that was not far away to ask for a sack,\nwhich he got, to put the creature into it. Now there were two holes\nunder the roots of the tree, and while one held the sack with its mouth\nopen over one of them, the other pushed his stick into the other hole,\nand presently the creature went into the sack. The two men thought they\nhad caught an otter, which they looked upon as no small feat. They set\nout for home, but before they had proceeded the width of one field,\nthe inmate of the sack spoke to them in a sad voice, and said, \"My\nmother is calling for me; oh, my mother is calling for me!\" This gave\nthe two hunters a great fright, so that they at once threw down the\nsack; and great was their surprise to see a little man in a red dress\nrunning out of the sack towards the river. He disappeared from their\nsight in the bushes by the river. The two men were greatly terrified,\nand felt that it was more prudent to go home than meddle any further\nwith the fair family.' So far as I know, this story stands alone in\nWelsh folklore; but it has an exact parallel in Lancashire [47].\n\nThe other story, which I now reproduce, was obtained by Mr. Roberts\nfrom the same Abel Evans. He learnt it from Mrs. Ellen Edwards, and\nit refers to a point in her lifetime, which Abel Evans fixes at ninety\nyears ago. Mr. Roberts has not succeeded in recovering the name of the\ncottager of whom it speaks; but he lived on the side of the Berwyn,\nabove Cwm Pennant, where till lately a cottage used to stand, near\nwhich the fairies had one of their resorts:--\n\nYr oed perchen y bwthyn wedi amaethu rhyw ran fychan o'r mynyd ger llaw\ny ty er mwyn plannu pytatws yndo. Felly y gwnaeth. Mewn coeden yn agos\ni'r fan canfydod nyth bran. Fe fedyliod mae doeth fuasai ido dryllio y\nnyth cyn amlhau o'r brain. Fe a esgynnod y goeden ac a drylliod y nyth,\nac wedi disgyn i lawr canfydod gylch glas (fairy ring) odiamgylch y\npren, ac ar y cylch fe welod hanner coron er ei fawr lawenyd. Wrth\nfyned heibio yr un fan y boreu canlynol fe gafod hanner coron yn\nyr un man ag y cafod y dyd o'r blaen. Hynna fu am amryw dydiau. Un\ndiwrnod dywedod wrth gyfaill am ei hap da a dangosod y fan a'r lle\ny cawsai yr hanner coron bob boreu. Wel y boreu canlynol nid oed yno\nna hanner coron na dim arall ido, oherwyd yr oed wedi torri rheolau\ny Tylwythion trwy wneud eu haelioni yn hysbys. Y mae y Tylwythion\no'r farn na dylai y llaw aswy wybod yr hyn a wna y llaw dehau.\n\n'The occupier of the cottage had tilled a small portion of the\nmountain side near his home in order to plant potatoes, which he\ndid. He observed that there was a rook's nest on a tree which was\nnot far from this spot, and it struck him that it would be prudent\nto break the nest before the rooks multiplied. So he climbed the tree\nand broke the nest, and, after coming down, he noticed a green circle\n(a fairy ring) round the tree, and on this circle he espied, to his\ngreat joy, half a crown. As he went by the same spot the following\nmorning, he found another half a crown in the same place as before. So\nit happened for several days; but one day he told a friend of his\ngood luck, and showed him the spot where he found half a crown every\nmorning. Now the next morning there was for him neither half a crown\nnor anything else, because he had broken the rule of the fair folks\nby making their liberality known, they being of opinion that the left\nhand should not know what the right hand does.'\n\nSo runs this short tale, which the old lady, Mrs. Edwards, and the\npeople of the neighbourhood explained as an instance of the gratitude\nof the fairies to a man who had rendered them a service, which in this\ncase was supposed to have consisted in ridding them of the rooks,\nthat disturbed their merry-makings in the green ring beneath the\nbranches of the tree.\n\n\n\n\nVII.\n\nIt would be unpardonable to pass away from Merioneth without alluding\nto the stray cow of Llyn Barfog. The story appears in Welsh in\nthe Brython for 1860, pp. 183-4, but the contributor, who closely\nimitates Glasynys' style, says that he got his materials from a paper\nby the late Mr. Pughe of Aberdovey, by which he seems to have meant\nan article contributed by the latter to the Arch\u00e6ologia Cambrensis,\nand published in the volume for 1853, pp. 201-5. Mr. Pughe dwells in\nthat article a good deal on the scenery of the corner of Merioneth\nin the rear of Aberdovey; but the chief thing in his paper is the\nlegend connected with Llyn Barfog, which he renders into English\nas the Bearded Lake [48]. It is described as a mountain lake in a\nsecluded spot in the upland country behind Aberdovey; but I shall\nlet Mr. Pughe speak for himself:--\n\n'The lovers of Cambrian lore are aware that the Triads in their record\nof the deluge affirm that it was occasioned by a mystic Afanc y Llyn,\ncrocodile [49] of the lake, breaking the banks of Llyn Llion, the\nlake of waters; and the recurrence of that catastrophe was prevented\nonly by Hu Gadarn, the bold man of power, dragging away the afanc\nby aid of his Ychain Banawg, or large horned oxen. Many a lakelet\nin our land has put forward its claim to the location of Llyn Llion;\namongst the rest, this lake. Be that as it may, King Arthur and his\nwar-horse have the credit amongst the mountaineers here of ridding\nthem of the monster, in place of Hu the Mighty, in proof of which is\nshown an impression on a neighbouring rock bearing a resemblance to\nthose made by the shoe or hoof of a horse, as having been left there by\nhis charger when our British Hercules was engaged in this redoubtable\nact of prowess, and this impression has been given the name of Carn\nMarch Arthur, the hoof of Arthur's horse, which it retains to this\nday. It is believed to be very perilous to let the waters out of\nthe lake, and recently an aged inhabitant of the district informed\nthe writer that she recollected this being done during a period of\nlong drought, in order to procure motive power for Llyn Pair Mill,\nand that long-continued heavy rains followed. No wonder our bold but\nsuperstitious progenitors, awe-struck by the solitude of the spot--the\ndark sepial tint of its waters, unrelieved by the flitting apparition\nof a single fish, and seldom visited by the tenants of the air--should\nhave established it as a canon in their creed of terror that the lake\nformed one of the many communications between this outward world of\nours and the inner or lower one of Annwn--the unknown world [50]--the\ndominion of Gwyn ap Nud, the mythic king of the fabled realm, peopled\nby those children of mystery, Plant Annwn; and the belief is still\ncurrent amongst the inhabitants of our mountains in the occasional\nvisitations of the Gwraged Annwn, or dames of Elfin land, to this upper\nworld of ours. A shrewd old hill farmer (Thomas Abergraes by name),\nwell skilled in the folk-lore of the district, informed me that, in\nyears gone by, though when, exactly, he was too young to remember,\nthose dames were wont to make their appearance, arrayed in green, in\nthe neighbourhood of Llyn Barfog, chiefly at eventide, accompanied by\ntheir kine and hounds, and that on quiet summer nights in particular,\nthese ban-hounds were often to be heard in full cry pursuing their\nprey--the souls of doomed men dying without baptism and penance--along\nthe upland township of Cefnrhosucha. Many a farmer had a sight of\ntheir comely milk-white kine; many a swain had his soul turned to\nromance and poesy by a sudden vision of themselves in the guise of\ndamsels arrayed in green, and radiant in beauty and grace; and many a\nsportsman had his path crossed by their white hounds of supernatural\nfleetness and comeliness, the Cwn Annwn; but never had any one been\nfavoured with more than a passing view of either, till an old farmer\nresiding at Dyssyrnant, in the adjoining valley of Dyffryn Gwyn,\nbecame at last the lucky captor of one of their milk-white kine. The\nacquaintance which the Gwartheg y Llyn, the kine of the lake, had\nformed with the farmer's cattle, like the loves of the angels for\nthe daughters of men, became the means of capture; and the farmer\nwas thereby enabled to add the mystic cow to his own herd, an event\nin all cases believed to be most conducive to the worldly prosperity\nof him who should make so fortunate an acquisition. Never was there\nsuch a cow, never such calves, never such milk and butter, or cheese,\nand the fame of the Fuwch Gyfeiliorn, the stray cow, was soon spread\nabroad through that central part of Wales known as the district of\nRhwng y dwy Afon, from the banks of the Mawdach to those of the Dofwy\n[51]--from Aberdiswnwy [52] to Abercorris. The farmer, from a small\nbeginning, rapidly became, like Job, a man of substance, possessed of\nthriving herds of cattle--a very patriarch among the mountains. But,\nalas! wanting Job's restraining grace, his wealth made him proud, his\npride made him forget his obligation to the Elfin cow, and fearing\nshe might soon become too old to be profitable, he fattened her for\nthe butcher, and then even she did not fail to distinguish herself,\nfor a more monstrously fat beast was never seen. At last the day of\nslaughter came--an eventful day in the annals of a mountain farm--the\nkilling of a fat cow, and such a monster of obesity! No wonder all\nthe neighbours were gathered together to see the sight. The old farmer\nlooked upon the preparations in self-pleased importance--the butcher\nfelt he was about no common feat of his craft, and, baring his arms,\nhe struck the blow--not now fatal, for before even a hair had been\ninjured, his arm was paralysed--the knife dropped from his hand, and\nthe whole company was electrified by a piercing cry that awakened\necho in a dozen hills, and made the welkin ring again; and lo and\nbehold! the whole assemblage saw a female figure clad in green, with\nuplifted arms, standing on one of the craigs overhanging Llyn Barfog,\nand heard her calling with a voice loud as thunder:--\n\n\n                Dere di velen Einion,\n                Cyrn Cyveiliorn--braith y Llyn,\n                A'r voel 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 [53].\n\n\nAnd no sooner were these words of power uttered than the original lake\ncow and all her progeny, to the third and fourth generations, were\nin full flight towards the heights of Llyn Barfog, as if pursued by\nthe evil one. Self-interest quickly roused the farmer, who followed in\npursuit, till breathless and panting he gained an eminence overlooking\nthe lake, but with no better success than to behold the green attired\ndame leisurely descending mid-lake, accompanied by the fugitive cows\nand their calves formed in a circle around her, they tossing their\ntails, she waving her hands in scorn as much as to say, \"You may\ncatch us, my friend, if you can,\" as they disappeared beneath the\ndark waters of the lake, leaving only the yellow water-lily to mark\nthe spot where they vanished, and to perpetuate the memory of this\nstrange event. Meanwhile the farmer looked with rueful countenance upon\nthe spot where the Elfin herd disappeared, and had ample leisure to\ndeplore the effects of his greediness, as with them also departed the\nprosperity which had hitherto attended him, and he became impoverished\nto a degree below his original circumstances; and, in his altered\ncircumstances, few felt pity for one who in the noontide flow of\nprosperity had shown himself so far forgetful of favours received,\nas to purpose slaying his benefactor.'\n\nMr. Pughe did a very good thing in saving this legend from oblivion,\nbut it would be very interesting to know how much of it is still\ncurrent among the inhabitants of the retired district around Llyn\nBarfog, and how the story would look when stripped of the florid\nlanguage in which Mr. Pughe thought proper to clothe it. Lastly,\nlet me add a reference to the Iolo Manuscripts, pp. 85, 475, where\na short story is given concerning a certain Milkwhite Sweet-milk Cow\n(y Fuwch Laethwen Lefrith) whose milk was so abundant and possessed\nof such virtues as almost to rival the Holy Grail. Like the Holy\nGrail also this cow wandered everywhere spreading plenty, until she\nchanced to come to the Vale of Towy, where the foolish inhabitants\nwished to kill and eat her: the result was that she vanished in their\nhands and has never since been heard of.\n\n\n\n\nVIII.\n\nHere I wish to add some further stories connected with Merionethshire\nwhich have come under my notice lately. I give them chiefly on the\nauthority of Mr. Owen M. Edwards of Lincoln College, who is a native of\nLlanuwchllyn, and still spends a considerable part of his time there;\nand partly on that of Hywel's essay on the folklore of the county,\nwhich was awarded the prize at the National Eistedfod of 1898 [54]. A\nstory current at Llanuwchllyn, concerning a midwife who attends on a\nfairy mother, resembles the others of the same group: for one of them\nsee p. 63 above. In the former, however, one misses the ointment,\nand finds instead of it that the midwife was not to touch her eyes\nwith the water with which she washed the fairy baby. But as might be\nexpected one of her eyes happened to itch, and she touched it with\nher fingers straight from the water. It appears that thenceforth\nshe was able to see the fairies with that eye; at any rate she\nis represented some time afterwards recognizing the father of the\nfairy baby at a fair at Bala, and inquiring of him kindly about his\nfamily. The fairy asked with which eye she saw him, and when he had\nascertained this, he at once blinded it, so that she never could see\nwith it afterwards. Hywel also has it that the Tylwyth Teg formerly\nused to frequent the markets at Bala, and that they used to swell\nthe noise in the market-place without anybody being able to see them:\nthis was a sign that prices were going to rise.\n\nThe shepherds of Ardudwy are familiar, according to Hywel, with a\nvariant of the story in which a man married a fairy on condition\nthat he did not touch her with iron. They lived on the Moelfre and\ndwelt happily together for years, until one fine summer day, when\nthe husband was engaged in shearing his sheep, he put the gwelle,\n'shears,' in his wife's hand: she then instantly disappeared. The\nearlier portions of this story are unknown to me, but they are not\nhard to guess.\n\nConcerning Llyn Irdyn, between the western slopes of the Llawllech,\nHywel has a story the like of which I am not acquainted with: walking\nnear that lake you shun the shore and keep to the grass in order to\navoid the fairies, for if you take hold of the grass no fairy can\ntouch you, or dare under any circumstances injure a blade of grass.\n\nLastly, Hywel speaks of several caves containing treasure, as for\ninstance a telyn aur, or golden harp, hidden away in a cave beneath\nCastell Carn Dochan in the parish of Llanuwchllyn. Lewis Morris,\nin his Celtic Remains, p. 100, calls it Castell Corndochen, and\ndescribes it as seated on the top of a steep rock at the bottom of\na deep valley: it appears to have consisted of a wall surrounding\nthree turrets, and the mortar seems composed of cockle-shells: see\nalso the Arch\u00e6ologia Cambrensis for 1850, p. 204. Hywel speaks also\nof a cave beneath Castell Dinas Br\u00e2n, near Llangollen, as containing\nmuch treasure, which will only be disclosed to a boy followed by a\nwhite dog with llygaid arian, 'silver eyes,' explained to mean light\neyes: every such dog is said to see the wind. So runs this story,\nbut it requires more exegesis than I can supply. One may compare it\nat a distance with Myrdin's arrangement that the treasure buried by\nhim at Dinas Emrys should only be found by a youth with yellow hair\nand blue eyes, and with the belief that the cave treasures of the\nSnowdon district belong to the Gwydyl or Goidels, and that Goidels\nwill eventually find them: see chapter viii.\n\nThe next three stories are from Mr. Owen Edwards' Cymru for 1897,\npp. 188-9, where he has published them from a collection made for a\nliterary competition or local Eistedfod by his friend J. H. Roberts,\nwho died in early manhood. The first is a blurred version of the\nstory of the Lake Lady and her dowry of cattle, but enough of the\nstory remains to show that, had we got it in its original form,\nit would be found to differ somewhat on several points from all the\nother versions extant. I summarize the Welsh as follows:--In ages gone\nby, as the shepherd of Hafod y Garreg was looking after his sheep on\nthe shores of the Arennig Lake, he came across a young calf, plump,\nsleek, and strong, in the rushes. He could not guess whence the beast\ncould have come, as no cattle were allowed to approach the lake at\nthat time of the year. He took it home, however, and it was reared\nuntil it was a bull, remarkable for his fine appearance. In time\nhis offspring were the only cattle on the farm, and never before had\nthere been such beasts at Hafod y Garreg. They were the wonder and\nadmiration of the whole country. But one summer afternoon in June,\nthe shepherd saw a little fat old man playing on a pipe, and then he\nheard him call the cows by their names--\n\n\n                Mulican, Molican, Malen, Mair,\n                Dowch adre'r awrhon ar fy ngair.\n\n                Mulican, Molican, Malen and Mair,\n                Come now home at my word.\n\n\nHe then beheld the whole herd running to the little man and going\ninto the lake. Nothing more was heard of them, and it was everybody's\nopinion that they were the Tylwyth Teg's cattle.\n\nThe next is a quasi fairy tale, the outcome of which recalls the\nadventure of the farmer of Drws y Coed on his return from Bedgelert\nFair, p. 99 above. It is told of a young harpist who was making his\nway across country from his home at Yspyty Ifan to the neighbourhood\nof Bala, that while crossing the mountain he happened in the mist\nto lose his road and fall into the Gors Fawr, 'the big bog.' There\nhe wallowed for hours, quite unable to extricate himself in spite\nof all his efforts. But when he was going to give up in despair,\nhe beheld close to him, reaching him her hand, a little woman who\nwas wondrous fair beyond all his conception of beauty, and with her\nhelp he got out of the Gors. The damsel gave him a jolly sweet kiss\nthat flashed electricity through his whole nature: he was at once over\nhead and ears in love. She led him to the hut of her father and mother:\nthere he had every welcome, and he spent the night singing and dancing\nwith Olwen, for that was her name. Now, though the harpist was a mere\nstripling, he thought of wedding at once--he was never before in such\na heaven of delight. But next morning he was waked, not by a kiss\nfrom Olwen, but by the Plas Drain shepherd's dog licking his lips:\nhe found himself sleeping against the wall of a sheepfold (corlan),\nwith his harp in a clump of rushes at his feet, without any trace to\nbe found of the family with whom he had spent such a happy night.\n\nThe next story recalls Glasynys' Einion Las, as given at pp. 111-5\nabove: its peculiarity is the part played by the well introduced. The\nscene was a turbary near the river called Afon Mynach, so named from\nCwm Tir Mynach, behind the hills immediately north of Bala:--Ages\nago, as a number of people were cutting turf in a place which was\nthen moorland, and which is now enclosed ground forming part of a\nfarm called Nant Hir, one of them happened to wash his face in a\nwell belonging to the fairies. At dinner-time in the middle of the\nday they sat down in a circle, while the youth who had washed his\nface went to fetch the food, but suddenly both he and the box of\nfood were lost. They knew not what to do, they suspected that it was\nthe doing of the fairies; but the wise man (gwr hyspys) came to the\nneighbourhood and told them, that, if they would only go to the spot on\nthe night of full moon in June, they would behold him dancing with the\nfairies. They did as they were told, and found the moor covered with\nthousands of little agile creatures who sang and danced with all their\nmight, and they saw the missing man among them. They rushed at him,\nand with a great deal of trouble they got him out. But oftentimes was\nEinion missed again, until at the time of full moon in another June he\nreturned home with a wondrously fair wife, whose history or pedigree\nno one knew. Everybody believed her to be one of the Tylwyth Teg.\n\n\n\n\nIX.\n\nThere is a kind of fairy tale of which I think I have hitherto not\ngiven the reader a specimen: a good instance is given in the third\nvolume of the Brython, at p. 459, by a contributor who calls himself\nIdnerth ab Gwgan, who, I learn from the Rev. Chancellor Silvan Evans,\nthe editor, was no other than the Rev. Benjamin Williams, best known\nto Welsh antiquaries by his bardic name of Gwynionyd. The preface\nto the tale is also interesting, so I am tempted to render the whole\ninto English, as follows:--\n\n'The fair family were wonderful creatures in the imaginary world:\nthey encamped, they walked, and they capered a great deal in former\nages in our country, according to what we learn from some of our old\npeople. It may be supposed that they were very little folks like the\nchildren of Rhys Dwfn; for the old people used to imagine that they\nwere wont to visit their hearths in great numbers in ages gone by. The\ngirls at the farm houses used to make the hearths clean after supper,\nand to place a cauldron full of water near the fire; and so they\nthought that the fair family came there to play at night, bringing\nsweethearts for the young women, and leaving pieces of money on the\nhob for them in the morning. Sometimes they might be seen as splendid\nhosts exercising themselves on our hills. They were very fond of the\nmountains of Dyfed; travellers between Lampeter and Cardigan used to\nsee them on the hill of Llanwenog, but by the time they had reached\nthere the fairies would be far away on the hills of Llandyssul, and\nwhen one had reached the place where one expected to see the family\ntogether in tidy array, they would be seen very busily engaged on the\ntops of Crug y Balog; when one went there they would be on Blaen Pant\nar Fi, moving on and on to Bryn Bwa, and, finally, to some place or\nother in the lower part of Dyfed. Like the soldiers of our earthly\nworld, they were possessed of terribly fascinating music; and in\nthe autumnal season they had their rings, still named from them,\nin which they sang and danced. The young man of Llech y Derwyd [55]\nwas his father's only son, as well as heir to the farm; so he was\nvery dear to his father and his mother, indeed he was the light of\ntheir eyes. Now, the head servant and the son were bosom friends:\nthey were like brothers together, or rather twin brothers. As the\nson and the servant were such friends, the farmer's wife used to get\nexactly the same kind of clothes prepared for the servant as for her\nson. The two fell in love with two handsome young women of very good\nreputation in the neighbourhood. The two couples were soon joined in\nhonest wedlock, and great was the merry-making on the occasion. The\nservant had a suitable place to live in on the farm of Llech y Derwyd;\nbut about half a year after the son's marriage, he and his friend went\nout for sport, when the servant withdrew to a wild and retired corner\nto look for game. He returned presently for his friend, but when he\ngot there he could not see him anywhere: he kept looking around for\nsome time for him, shouting and whistling, but there was no sign of his\nfriend. By-and-by, he went home to Llech y Derwyd expecting to see him,\nbut no one knew anything about him. Great was the sorrow of his family\nthrough the night; and next day the anxiety was still greater. They\nwent to see the place where his friend had seen him last: it was hard\nto tell whether his mother or his wife wept the more bitterly; but\nthe father was a little better, though he also looked as if he were\nhalf mad with grief. The spot was examined, and, to their surprise,\nthey saw a fairy ring close by, and the servant recollected that\nhe had heard the sound of very fascinating music somewhere or other\nabout the time in question. It was at once agreed that the man had\nbeen unfortunate enough to have got into the ring of the Tylwyth,\nand to have been carried away by them, nobody knew whither. Weeks and\nmonths passed away, and a son was born to the heir of Llech y Derwyd,\nbut the young father was not there to see his child, which the old\npeople thought very hard. However, the little one grew up the very\npicture of his father, and great was his influence over his grandfather\nand grandmother; in fact he was everything to them. He grew up to be a\nman, and he married a good-looking girl in that neighbourhood; but her\nfamily did not enjoy the reputation of being kind-hearted people. The\nold folks died, and their daughter-in-law also. One windy afternoon\nin the month of October, the family of Llech y Derwyd beheld a tall\nthin old man, with his beard and hair white as snow, coming towards\nthe house, and they thought he was a Jew. The servant maids stared\nat him, and their mistress laughed at the \"old Jew,\" at the same time\nthat she lifted the children up one after another to see him. He came\nto the door and entered boldly enough, asking about his parents. The\nmistress answered him in an unusually surly and contemptuous tone,\nwondering why the \"drunken old Jew had come there,\" because it was\nthought he had been drinking, and that he would otherwise not have\nspoken so. The old man cast wondering and anxious looks around on\neverything in the house, feeling as he did greatly surprised; but it\nwas the little children about the floor that drew his attention most:\nhis looks were full of disappointment and sorrow. He related the\nwhole of his account, saying that he had been out the day before and\nthat he was now returning. The mistress of the house told him that\nshe had heard a tale about her husband's father, that he had been\nlost years before her birth while out sporting, whilst her father\nmaintained that it was not true, but that he had been killed. She\nbecame angry, and quite lost her temper at seeing \"the old Jew\"\nnot going away. The old man was roused, saying that he was the owner\nof the house, and that he must have his rights. He then went out to\nsee his possessions, and presently went to the house of the servant,\nwhere, to his surprise, things had greatly changed; after conversing\nwith an aged man, who sat by the fire, the one began to scrutinize\nthe other more and more. The aged man by the fire told him what had\nbeen the fate of his old friend, the heir of Llech y Derwyd. They\ntalked deliberately of the events of their youth, but it all seemed\nlike a dream; in short, the old man in the corner concluded that his\nvisitor was his old friend, the heir of Llech y Derwyd, returning\nfrom the land of the Tylwyth Teg after spending half a hundred years\nthere. The other old man, with the snow-white beard, believed in his\nhistory, and much did they talk together and question one another for\nmany hours. The old man by the fire said that the master of Llech y\nDerwyd was away from home that day, and he induced his aged visitor\nto eat some food, but, to the horror of all, the eater fell down dead\non the spot [56]. There is no record that an inquest was held over\nhim, but the tale relates that the cause of it was, that he ate food\nafter having been so long in the world of the fair family. His old\nfriend insisted on seeing him buried by the side of his ancestors;\nbut the rudeness of the mistress of Llech y Derwyd to her father-in-law\nbrought a curse on the family that clung to it to distant generations,\nand until the place had been sold nine times.'\n\nA tale like this is to be found related of Idwal of Nantclwyd, in\nCymru Fu, p. 85. I said 'a tale like this,' but, on reconsidering\nthe matter, I should think it is the very same tale passed through\nthe hands of Glasynys or some one of his imitators. Another of this\nkind will be found in the Brython, ii. 170, and several similar\nones also in Wirt Sikes' book, pp. 65-90, either given at length,\nor merely referred to. There is one kind of variant which deserves\nspecial notice, as making the music to which the sojourner in Faery\nlistens for scores of years to be that of a bird singing on a tree. A\nstory of the sort is located by Howells, in his Cambrian Superstitions,\npp. 127-8, at Pant Shon Shencin, near Pencader, in Cardiganshire. This\nlatter kind of story leads easily up to another development, namely,\nto substituting for the bird's warble the song and felicity of heaven,\nand for the simple shepherd a pious monk. In this form it is located at\na place called Llwyn y Nef, or 'Heaven's Grove,' near Celynnog Fawr,\nin Carnarvonshire. It is given by Glasynys in Cymru Fu, pp. 183-4,\nwhere it was copied from the Brython, iii. 111, in which he had\npreviously published it. Several versions of it in rhyme came down\nfrom the eighteenth century, and Silvan Evans has brought together\ntwenty-six stanzas in point in St. David's College Magazine for 1881,\npp. 191-200, where he has put into a few paragraphs all that is known\nabout the song of the Hen Wr o'r Coed, or the Old Man of the Wood,\nin his usually clear and lucid style.\n\nA tale from the other end of the tract of country once occupied\nby a sprinkling, perhaps, of Celts among a population of Picts,\nmakes the man, and not the fairies, supply the music. I owe it to\nthe kindness of the Rev. Andrew Clark, Fellow of Lincoln College,\nOxford, who heard it from the late sexton of the parish of Dollar,\nin the county of Clackmannan. The sexton died some twelve years ago,\naged seventy: he had learnt the tale from his father. The following\nare Mr. Clark's words:--\n\n'Glendevon is a parish and village in the Ochils in County Perth,\nabout five miles from Dollar as you come up Glen Queich and down by\nGloomhill. Glen Queich is a narrowish glen between two grassy hills--at\nthe top of the glen is a round hill of no great height, but very neat\nshape, the grass of which is always short and trim, and the ferns on\nthe shoulder of a very marked green. This, as you come up the glen,\nseems entirely to block the way. It is called the \"Maiden Castle.\" Only\nwhen you come quite close do you see the path winding round the foot\nof it. A little further on is a fine spring bordered with flat stones,\nin the middle of a neat, turfy spot, called the \"Maiden's Well.\" This\nroad, till the new toll-road was made on the other side of the hills,\nwas the thoroughfare between Dollar and Glendevon.'\n\nThe following is the legend, as told by the 'Bethrel':--'A piper,\ncarrying his pipes, was coming from Glendevon to Dollar in the grey\nof the evening. He crossed the Garchel (a little stream running into\nthe Queich burn), and looked at the \"Maiden Castle,\" and saw only the\ngrey hillside and heard only the wind soughing through the bent. He had\ngot beyond it when he heard a burst of lively music: he turned round,\nand instead of the dark knoll saw a great castle, with lights blazing\nfrom the windows, and heard the noise of dancing issuing from the open\ndoor. He went back incautiously, and a procession issuing forth at that\nmoment, he was caught and taken into a great hall ablaze with lights,\nand people dancing on the floor. He had to pipe to them for a day or\ntwo, but he got anxious, because he knew his people would be wondering\nwhy he did not come back in the morning as he had promised. The fairies\nseemed to sympathize with his anxiety, and promised to let him go\nif he played a favourite tune of his, which they seemed fond of,\nto their satisfaction. He played his very best, the dance went fast\nand furious, and at its close he was greeted with loud applause. On\nhis release he found himself alone, in the grey of the evening, beside\nthe dark hillock, and no sound was heard save the purr of the burn and\nthe soughing of the wind through the bent. Instead of completing his\njourney to Dollar, he walked hastily back to Glendevon to relieve his\nfolk's anxiety. He entered his father's house and found no kent face\nthere. On his protesting that he had gone only a day or two before,\nand waxing loud in his bewildered talk, a grey old man was roused from\na doze behind the fire; and told how he had heard when a boy from\nhis father that a piper had gone away to Dollar on a quiet evening,\nand had never been heard or seen since, nor any trace of him found. He\nhad been in the \"castle\" for a hundred years.'\n\nThe term Plant Rhys Dwfn has already been brought before the reader:\nit means 'the Children of Rhys Dwfn,' and Rhys Dwfn means literally\nRhys the Deep, but the adjective in Welsh connotes depth of character\nin the sense of shrewdness or cunning. Nay, even the English deep is\noften borrowed for use in the same sense, as when one colloquially says\nun d\u00eep iawn yw e, 'he is a very calculating or cunning fellow.' The\nfollowing account of Rhys and his progeny is given by Gwynionyd\nin the first volume of the Brython, p. 130, which deserves being\ncited at length:--'There is a tale current in Dyfed, that there is,\nor rather that there has been, a country between Cemmes, the northern\nHundred of Pembrokeshire, and Aberdaron in Lleyn. The chief patriarch\nof the inhabitants was Rhys Dwfn, and his descendants used to be\ncalled after him the Children of Rhys Dwfn. They were, it is said,\na handsome race enough, but remarkably small in size. It is stated\nthat certain herbs of a strange nature grew in their land, so that\nthey were able to keep their country from being seen by even the most\nsharp sighted of invaders. There is no account that these remarkable\nherbs grew in any other part of the world excepting on a small spot,\nabout a square yard in area, in a certain part of Cemmes. If it chanced\nthat a man stood alone on it, he beheld the whole of the territory\nof Plant Rhys Dwfn; but the moment he moved he would lose sight of\nit altogether, and it would have been utterly vain for him to look\nfor his footprints. In another story, as will be seen presently,\nthe requisite platform was a turf from St. David's churchyard. The\nRhysians had not much land--they lived in towns. So they were wont in\nformer times to come to market to Cardigan, and to raise the prices\nof things terribly. They were seen of no one coming or going, but only\nseen there in the market. When prices happened to be high, and the corn\nall sold, however much there might have been there in the morning,\nthe poor used to say to one another on the way home, \"Oh! they were\nthere to-day,\" meaning Plant Rhys Dwfn. So they were dear friends in\nthe estimation of Si\u00f4n Phil Hywel, the farmer; but not so high in the\nopinion of Dafyd, the labourer. It is said, however, that they were\nvery honest and resolute men. A certain Gruffyd ab Einon was wont to\nsell them more corn than anybody else, and so he was a great friend\nof theirs. He was honoured by them beyond all his contemporaries by\nbeing led on a visit to their home. As they were great traders like\nthe Phoenicians of old, they had treasures from all countries under\nthe sun. Gruffyd, after feasting his eyes to satiety on their wonders,\nwas led back by them loaded with presents. But before taking leave\nof them, he asked them how they succeeded in keeping themselves safe\nfrom invaders, as one of their number might become unfaithful, and go\nbeyond the virtue of the herbs that formed their safety. \"Oh!\" replied\nthe little old man of shrewd looks, \"just as Ireland has been blessed\nwith a soil on which venomous reptiles cannot live, so with our land:\nno traitor can live here. Look at the sand on the sea-shore: perfect\nunity prevails there, and so among us. Rhys, the father of our race,\nbade us, even to the most distant descendant, honour our parents\nand ancestors; love our own wives without looking at those of our\nneighbours; and do our best for our children and grandchildren. And\nhe said that if we did so, no one of us would ever prove unfaithful\nto another, or become what you call a traitor. The latter is a wholly\nimaginary character among us; strange pictures are drawn of him with\nhis feet like those of an ass, with a nest of snakes in his bosom,\nwith a head like the devil's, with hands somewhat like a man's, while\none of them holds a large knife, and the family lies dead around the\nfigure. Good-bye!\" When Gruffyd looked about him he lost sight of the\ncountry of Plant Rhys, and found himself near his home. He became very\nwealthy after this, and continued to be a great friend of Plant Rhys\nas long as he lived. After Gruffyd's death they came to market again,\nbut such was the greed of the farmers, like Gruffyd before them,\nfor riches, and so unreasonable were the prices they asked for their\ncorn, that the Rhysians took offence and came no more to Cardigan to\nmarket. The old people used to think that they now went to Fishguard\nmarket, as very strange people were wont to be seen there.' On the\nother hand, some Fishguard people were lately of opinion that it was\nat Haverfordwest the fairies did their marketing: I refer to a letter\nof Mr. Ferrar Fenton's, in the Pembroke County Guardian of October 31,\n1896, in which he mentions a conversation he had with a Fishguard woman\nas to the existence of fairies: 'There are fairies,' she asserted,\n'for they came to Ha'rfordwest market to buy things, so there must be.'\n\nWith this should be compared pp. 9-10 of Wirt Sikes' British Goblins,\nwhere mention is made of sailors on the coast of Pembrokeshire and\nCarmarthenshire, 'who still talk of the green meadows of enchantment\nlying in the Irish Channel to the west of Pembrokeshire,' and of\nmen who had landed on them, or seen them suddenly vanishing. The\nauthor then proceeds to abstract from Howells' Cambrian Superstitions,\np. 119, the following paragraph:--'The fairies inhabiting these islands\nare said to have regularly attended the markets at Milford Haven and\nLaugharne. They made their purchases without speaking, laid down their\nmoney and departed, always leaving the exact sum required, which they\nseemed to know without asking the price of anything. Sometimes they\nwere invisible; but they were often seen by sharp-eyed persons. There\nwas always one special butcher at Milford Haven upon whom the fairies\nbestowed their patronage instead of distributing their favours\nindiscriminately. The Milford Haven folk could see the green Fairy\nIslands distinctly, lying out a short distance from land; and the\ngeneral belief was that they were densely peopled with fairies. It\nwas also said that the latter went to and fro between the islands and\nthe shore, through a subterranean gallery under the bottom of the sea.'\n\nAnother tale given in the Brython, ii. 20, by a writer who gives\nhis name as B. Davies [57], will serve to show, short though it be,\nthat the term Plant Rhys Dwfn was not confined to those honestly\ndealing fairies, but was used in a sense wholly synonymous with that\nof Tylwyth Teg, as understood in other parts of Wales. The story\nruns as follows, and should be compared with the Dyffryn Mymbyr one\ngiven above, pp. 100-3:--'One calm hot day, when the sun of heaven was\nbrilliantly shining, and the hay in the dales was being busily made by\nlads and lasses, and by grown-up people of both sexes, a woman in the\nneighbourhood of Emlyn placed her one-year-old infant in the gader,\nor chair, as the cradle is called in these parts, and out she went\nto the field for a while, intending to return, when her neighbour,\nan old woman overtaken by the decrepitude of eighty summers, should\ncall to her that her darling was crying. It was not long before she\nheard the old woman calling to her; she ran hurriedly, and as soon as\nshe set foot on the kitchen floor she took her little one in her arms\nas usual, saying to him, \"O my little one! thy mother's delight art\nthou! I would not take the world for thee, &c.\" But to her surprise\nhe had a very old look about him, and the more the tender-hearted\nmother gazed at his face, the stranger it seemed to her, so that at\nlast she placed him in the cradle and told her trouble and sorrow to\nher relatives and acquaintances. And after this one and the other had\ngiven his opinion, it was agreed at last that it was one of Rhys Dwfn's\nchildren that was in the cradle, and not her dearly loved baby. In this\ndistress there was nothing to do but to fetch a sorcerer, as fast as\nthe fastest horse could gallop. He said, when he saw the child, that\nhe had seen his like before, and that it would be a hard job to get\nrid of him, though not such a very hard job this time. The shovel was\nmade red hot in the fire by one of the Cefnarth [58] boys, and held\nbefore the child's face; and in an instant the short little old man\ntook to his heels, and neither he nor his like was seen afterwards\nfrom Aber Cuch to Aber Bargoed at any rate. The mother, it is said,\nfound her darling unscathed the next moment. I remember also hearing\nthat the strange child was as old as the grandfather of the one that\nhad been lost.'\n\nAs I see no reason to make any profound distinction between lake\nmaidens and sea maidens, I now give Gwynionyd's account of the mermaid\nwho was found by a fisherman from Llandydoch or St. Dogmael's [59],\nnear Cardigan: see the Brython, i. 82:--\n\n'One fine afternoon in September, in the beginning of the last century,\na fisherman, whose name was Pergrin [60], went to a recess in the\nrock near Pen Cemmes, where he found a sea maiden doing her hair,\nand he took the water lady prisoner to his boat.... We know not\nwhat language is used by sea maidens ... but this one, this time at\nany rate, talked, it is said, very good Welsh; for when she was in\ndespair in Pergrin's custody, weeping copiously, and with her tresses\nall dishevelled, she called out: 'Pergrin, if thou wilt let me go,\nI will give thee three shouts in the time of thy greatest need.' So,\nin wonder and fear, he let her go to walk the streets of the deep,\nand visit her sweethearts there. Days and weeks passed without\nPergrin seeing her after this; but one hot afternoon, when the sea\nwas pretty calm, and the fishermen had no thought of danger, behold\nhis old acquaintance showing her head and locks, and shouting out in a\nloud voice: 'Pergrin! Pergrin! Pergrin! take up thy nets, take up thy\nnets, take up thy nets!' Pergrin and his companion instantly obeyed\nthe message, and drew their nets in with great haste. In they went,\npast the bar, and by the time they had reached the Pwll Cam the most\nterrible storm had overspread the sea, while he and his companion were\nsafe on land. Twice nine others had gone out with them, but they were\nall drowned without having the chance of obeying the warning of the\nwater lady.' Perhaps it is not quite irrelevant to mention here the\narmorial bearings which Drayton ascribes to the neighbouring county\nof Cardigan in the following couplet in his Battaile of Agincourt\n(London, 1631), p. 23:--\n\n\n            As Cardigan the next to them that went,\n            Came with a Mermayd sitting on a Rock.\n\n\nA writer in the Brython, iv. 194, states that the people of Nefyn\nin Lleyn claim the story of the fisher and the mermaid as belonging\nto them, which proves that a similar legend has been current there:\nadd to this the fact mentioned in the Brython, iii. 133, that a red\nmermaid with yellow hair, on a white field, figures in the coat of\narms of the family resident at Glasfryn in the parish of Llangybi,\nin Eifionyd or the southern portion of Carnarvonshire; and we have\nalready suggested that Glasynys' story (pp. 117-25) was made up, to a\ncertain extent, of materials found on the coasts of Carnarvonshire. A\nsmall batch of stories about South Wales mermaids is given by a writer\nwho calls himself Ab Nadol [61], in the Brython, iv. 310, as follows:--\n\n'A few rockmen are said to have been working, about eighty years\nago, in a quarry near Porth y Rhaw, when the day was calm and clear,\nwith nature, as it were, feasting, the flowers shedding sweet scent\naround, and the hot sunshine beaming into the jagged rocks. Though an\noccasional wave rose to strike the romantic cliffs, the sea was like\na placid lake, with its light coverlet of blue attractive enough to\nentice one of the ladies of Rhys Dwfn forth from the town seen by\nDaniel Huws off Trefin as he was journeying between Fishguard and\nSt. David's in the year 1858, to make her way to the top of a stone\nand to sit on it to disentangle her flowing silvery hair. Whilst\nshe was cleaning herself, the rockmen went down, and when they got\nnear her they perceived that, from her waist upwards, she was like\nthe lasses of Wales, but that, from her waist downwards, she had the\nbody of a fish. And, when they began to talk to her, they found she\nspoke Welsh, though she only uttered the following few words to them:\n\"Reaping in Pembrokeshire and weeding in Carmarthenshire.\" Off she\nthen went to walk in the depth of the sea towards her home. Another\ntale is repeated about a mermaid, said to have been caught by men\nbelow the land of Llanwnda, near the spot, if not on the spot, where\nthe French made their landing afterwards, and three miles to the west\nof Fishguard. It then goes on to say that they carried her to their\nhome, and kept her in a secure place for some time; before long, she\nbegged to be allowed to return to the brine land, and gave the people\nof the house three bits of advice; but I only remember one of them,'\nhe writes, 'and this is it: \"Skim the surface of the pottage before\nadding sweet milk to it: it will be whiter and sweeter, and less of\nit will do.\" I was told that this family follow the three advices to\nthis day.' A somewhat similar advice to that about the pottage is\nsaid to have been given by a mermaid, under similar circumstances,\nto a Manxman.\n\nAfter putting the foregoing bits together, I was favoured by\nMr. Benjamin Williams with notes on the tales and on the persons from\nwhom he heard them: they form the contents of two or three letters,\nmostly answers to queries of mine, and the following is the substance\nof them:--Mr. Williams is a native of the valley of Troed yr Aur\n[62], in the Cardiganshire parish of that name. He spent a part of\nhis youth at Verwig, in the angle between the northern bank of the\nTeifi and Cardigan Bay. He heard of Rhys Dwfn's Children first from\na distant relative of his father's, a Catherine Thomas, who came to\nvisit her daughter, who lived not far from his father's house: that\nwould now be from forty-eight to fifty years ago. He was very young\nat the time, and of Rhys Dwfn's progeny he formed a wonderful idea,\nwhich was partly due also to the talk of one James Davies or Si\u00e0ms\nMocyn, who was very well up in folklore, and was one of his father's\nnext-door neighbours. He was an old man, and nephew to the musician,\nDavid Jenkin Morgan. The only spot near Mr. Williams' home, that\nused to be frequented by the fairies, was Cefn y Ceirw, 'the Stag's\nRidge,' a large farm, so called from having been kept as a park for\ntheir deer by the Lewises of Aber Nant Bychan. He adds that the late\nMr. Philipps, of Aberglasney, was very fond of talking of things\nin his native neighbourhood, and of mentioning the fairies at Cefn\ny Ceirw. It was after moving to Verwig that Mr. Williams began to\nput the tales he heard on paper: then he came in contact with three\nbrothers, whose names were John, Owen, and Thomas Evans. They were\nwell-to-do and respectable bachelors, living together on the large\nfarm of Hafod Ruffyd. Thomas was a man of very strong common sense,\nand worth consulting on any subject: he was a good arithmetician,\nand a constant reader of the Baptist periodical, Seren Gomer, from\nits first appearance. He thoroughly understood the bardic metres,\nand had a fair knowledge of music. He was well versed in Scripture,\nand filled the office of deacon at the Baptist Chapel. His death took\nplace in the year 1864. Now, the eldest of the three brothers, the\none named John, or Si\u00f4n, was then about seventy-five years of age,\nand he thoroughly believed in the tales about the fairies, as will\nbe seen from the following short dialogue:--\n\nSi\u00f4n: Williams bach, ma'n rhaid i bod nhw'i g\u00e2l: yr w i'n cofio yn\namser Bone fod marchnad Aberteifi yn llawn o lafir yn y bore--digon\nyno am fis--ond cin pen hanner awr yr \u00f4d y cwbwl wedi darfod. Nid \u00f4d\npossib i gweld nhwi: m\u00e2 gida nhwi faint a fynnon nhwi o arian.\n\nWilliams: Siwt na fyse dynion yn i gweld nhwi ynte, Si\u00f4n?\n\nSi\u00f4n: O m\u00e2 gida nhwi dynion fel ninne yn pryni drostyn nhwi; ag y m\u00e2\nnhwi fel yr hen si\u00f3wmin yna yn gelli gneid pob tric.\n\nJohn: 'My dear Williams, it must be that they exist: I remember\nCardigan market, in the time of Bonaparte, full of corn in the\nmorning--enough for a month--but in less than half an hour it was\nall gone. It was impossible to see them: they have as much money as\nthey like.'\n\nWilliams: 'How is it, then, that men did not see them, John?'\n\nJohn: 'Oh, they have men like us to do the buying for them; and they\ncan, like those old showmen, do every kind of trick.'\n\nAt this kind of display of simplicity on the part of his brother,\nThomas used to smile and say: 'My brother John believes such things\nas those;' for he had no belief in them himself. Still it is from\nhis mouth that Mr. Williams published the tales in the Brython, which\nhave been reproduced here, that of 'Pergrin and the Mermaid,' and all\nabout the 'Heir of Llech y Derwyd,' not to mention the ethical element\nin the account of Rhys Dwfn's country and its people, the product\nprobably of his mind. Thomas Evans, or as he was really called,\nTommos Ifan, was given rather to grappling with the question of\nthe origin of such beliefs; so one day he called Mr. Williams out,\nand led him to a spot about four hundred yards from Bol y Fron,\nwhere the latter then lived: he pointed to the setting sun, and\nasked Mr. Williams what he thought of the glorious sunset before\nthem. 'It is all produced,' he then observed, 'by the reflection\nof the sun's rays on the mist: one might think,' he went on to say,\n'that there was there a paradise of a country full of fields, forests,\nand everything that is desirable.' And before they had moved away the\ngrand scene had disappeared, when Thomas suggested that the idea of\nthe existence of the country of Rhys Dwfn's Children arose from the\ncontemplation of that phenomenon. One may say that Thomas Evans was\nprobably far ahead of the Welsh historians who try to extract history\nfrom the story of Cantre'r Gwaelod, 'the Bottom Hundred,' beneath the\nwaves of Cardigan Bay; but what was seen was probably an instance of\nthe mirage to be mentioned presently. Lastly, besides Mr. Williams'\ncontributions to the Brython, and a small volume of poetry, entitled\nBriallen glan Ceri, some tales of his were published by Llallawg\nin Bygones some years ago, and he had the prize at the Cardigan\nEistedfod of 1866 for the best collection in Welsh of the folklore\nof Dyfed: his recollection was that it contained in all thirty-six\ntales of all kinds; but since the manuscript, as the property of the\nCommittee of that Eistedfod, was sold, he could not now consult it:\nin fact he is not certain as to who the owner of it may now be,\nthough he has an idea that it is either the Rev. Rees Williams,\nvicar of Whitchurch, near Solva, Pembrokeshire, or R. D. Jenkins,\nEsq., of Cilbronnau, Cardiganshire. Whoever the owner may be, he\nwould probably be only too glad to have it published, and I mention\nthis merely to call attention to it. The Eistedfod is to be commended\nfor encouraging local research, and sometimes even for burying the\nresults in obscurity, but not always.\n\n\n\n\nX.\n\nBefore leaving Dyfed I wish to revert to the extract from Mr. Sikes,\np. 161 above. He had been helped partly by the article on Gavran,\nin the Cambrian Biography, by William Owen, better known since as\nWilliam Owen Pughe and Dr. Pughe, and partly by a note of Southey's\non the following words in his Madoc (London, 1815), i. III:--\n\n\n        Where are the sons of Gavran? where his tribe,\n        The faithful? following their beloved Chief,\n        They the Green Islands of the Ocean sought;\n        Nor human tongue hath told, nor human ear,\n        Since from the silver shores they went their way,\n        Hath heard their fortunes.\n\n\nThe Gavran story, I may premise, is based on one of the Welsh\nTriads--i. 34, ii. 41, iii. 80--and Southey cites the article in the\nCambrian Biography; but he goes on to give the following statements\nwithout indicating on what sources he was drawing--the reader has,\nhowever, been made acquainted already with the virtue of a blade of\ngrass, by the brief mention of Llyn Irdyn above, p. 148:--\n\n'Of these Islands, or Green Spots of the Floods, there are some\nsingular superstitions. They are the abode of the Tylwyth Teg, or\nthe fair family, the souls of the virtuous Druids, who, not having\nbeen Christians, cannot enter the Christian heaven, but enjoy this\nheaven of their own. They however discover a love of mischief, neither\nbecoming happy spirits, nor consistent with their original character;\nfor they love to visit the earth, and, seizing a man, inquire whether\nhe will travel above wind, mid wind, or below wind; above wind is\na giddy and terrible passage, below wind is through bush and brake,\nthe middle is a safe course. But the spell of security is, to catch\nhold of the grass, for these Beings have not power to destroy a blade\nof grass. In their better moods they come over and carry the Welsh in\ntheir boats. He who visits these Islands imagines on his return that\nhe has been absent only a few hours, when, in truth, whole centuries\nhave passed away. If you take a turf from St. David's churchyard,\nand stand upon it on the sea shore, you behold these Islands. A man\nonce, who thus obtained sight of them, immediately put to sea to find\nthem; but they disappeared, and his search was in vain. He returned,\nlooked at them again from the enchanted turf, again set sail, and\nfailed again. The third time he took the turf into his vessel, and\nstood upon it till he reached them.'\n\nA correspondent signing himself 'the Antient Mariner,' and writing,\nin the Pembroke County Guardian, from Newport, Pembrokeshire, Oct. 26,\n1896, cites Southey's notes, and adds to them the statement, that\nsome fifty years ago there was a tradition amongst the inhabitants of\nTrevine (Trefin) in his county, that these Islands could be seen from\nLlan Non, or Eglwys Non, in that neighbourhood. To return to Madoc,\nSouthey adds to the note already quoted a reference to the inhabitants\nof Arran More, on the coast of Galway, to the effect that they think\nthat they can on a clear day see Hy-Breasail, the Enchanted Island\nsupposed to be the Paradise of the Pagan Irish: compare the Phantom\nCity seen in the same sea from the coast of Clare. Then he asks a\nquestion suggestive of the explanation, that all this is due to 'that\nvery extraordinary phenomenon, known in Sicily by the name of Morgaine\nle Fay's works.' In connexion with this question of mirage I venture\nto quote again from the Pembroke County Guardian. Mr. Ferrar Fenton,\nalready mentioned, writes in the issue of Nov. 1, 1896, giving a report\nwhich he had received one summer morning from Captain John Evans,\nsince deceased. It is to the effect 'that once when trending up the\nChannel, and passing Grasholm Island, in what he had always known\nas deep water, he was surprised to see to windward of him a large\ntract of land covered with a beautiful green meadow. It was not,\nhowever, above water, but just a few feet below, say two or three,\nso that the grass waved and swam about as the ripple flowed over it,\nin a most delightful way to the eye, so that as watched it made one\nfeel quite drowsy. You know, he continued, I have heard old people\nsay there is a floating island off there, that sometimes rises to the\nsurface, or nearly, and then sinks down again fathoms deep, so that\nno one sees it for years, and when nobody expects it comes up again\nfor a while. How it may be, I do not know, but that is what they say.'\n\nLastly, Mr. E. Perkins, of Penysgwarne, near Fishguard, wrote on\nNov. 2, 1896, as follows, of a changing view to be had from the top\nof the Garn, which means the Garn Fawr, one of the most interesting\nprehistoric sites in the county, and one I have had the pleasure of\nvisiting more than once in the company of Henry Owen and Edward Laws,\nthe historians of Pembrokeshire:--\n\n'May not the fairy islands referred to by Professor Rhys have\noriginated from mirages? During the glorious weather we enjoyed\nlast summer, I went up one particularly fine evening to the top of\nthe Garn behind Penysgwarne to view the sunset. It would have been\nworth a thousand miles' travel to go to see such a scene as I saw\nthat evening. It was about half an hour before sunset--the bay was\ncalm and smooth as the finest mirror. The rays of the sun made\n\n\n            A golden path across the sea,\n\n\nand a picture indescribable. As the sun neared the horizon the rays\nbroadened until the sheen resembled a gigantic golden plate prepared\nto hold the brighter sun. No sooner had the sun set than I saw a\nstriking mirage. To the right I saw a stretch of country similar\nto a landscape in this country. A farmhouse and out-buildings were\nseen, I will not say quite as distinct as I can see the upper part\nof St. David's parish from this Garn, but much more detailed. We\ncould see fences, roads, and gateways leading to the farmyard, but\nin the haze it looked more like a panoramic view than a veritable\nlandscape. Similar mirages may possibly have caused our old tadau to\nthink these were the abode of the fairies.'\n\nTo return to Mr. Sikes, the rest of his account of the Pembrokeshire\nfairies and their green islands, of their Milford butcher, and\nof the subterranean gallery leading into their home, comes, as\nalready indicated, for the most part from Howells. But it does not\nappear on what authority Southey himself made departed druids of\nthe fairies. One would be glad to be reassured on this last point,\nas such a hypothesis would fit in well enough with what we are told\nof the sacrosanct character of the inhabitants of the isles on the\ncoast of Britain in ancient times. Take, for instance, the brief\naccount given by Plutarch of one of the isles explored by a certain\nDemetrius in the service of the Emperor of Rome: see chapter viii.\n\n\n\n\nXI.\n\nMr. Craigfryn Hughes, the author of a Welsh novelette [63] with its\nscene laid in Glamorgan, having induced me to take a copy, I read it\nand found it full of local colouring. Then I ventured to sound the\nauthor on the question of fairy tales, and the reader will be able\nto judge how hearty the response has been. Before reproducing the\ntale which Mr. Hughes has sent me, I will briefly put into English\nhis account of himself and his authorities. Mr. Hughes lives at the\nQuakers' Yard in the neighbourhood of Pontyprid, in Glamorganshire. His\nfather was not a believer [64] in tales about fairies or the like,\nand he learned all he knows of the traditions about them in his\nfather's absence, from his grandmother and other old people. The old\nlady's name was Rachel Hughes. She was born at Pandy Pont y Cymmer,\nnear Pontypool, or Pont ap Hywel as Mr. Hughes analyses the name,\nin the year 1773, and she had a vivid recollection of Edmund Jones of\nthe Tranch, of whom more anon, coming from time to time to preach to\nthe Independents there. She came, however, to live in the parish of\nLlanfabon, near the Quakers' Yard, when she was only twelve years\nof age; and there she continued to live to the day of her death,\nwhich took place in 1864, so that she was about ninety-one years of\nage at the time. Mr. Hughes adds that he remembers many of the old\ninhabitants besides his grandmother, who were perfectly familiar with\nthe story he has put on record; but only two of them were alive when\nhe wrote to me in 1881, and these were both over ninety years old,\nwith their minds overtaken by the childishness of age; but it was\nonly a short time since the death of another, who was, as he says,\na walking library of tales about corpse candles, ghosts, and Bendith\ny Mamau [65], or 'The Mothers' Blessing,' as the fairies are usually\ncalled in Glamorgan. Mr. Hughes' father tried to prevent his children\nbeing taught any tales about ghosts, corpse candles, or fairies;\nbut the grandmother found opportunities of telling them plenty, and\nMr. Hughes vividly describes the effect on his mind when he was a\nboy, how frightened he used to feel, how he pulled the clothes over\nhis head in bed, and how he half suffocated himself thereby under\nthe effects of the fear with which the tales used to fill him. Then,\nas to the locality, he makes the following remarks:--'There are few\npeople who have not heard something or other about the old graveyard\nof the Quakers, which was made by Lydia Phil, a lady who lived at a\nneighbouring farm house, called Cefn y Fforest. This old graveyard lies\nin the eastern corner of the parish of Merthyr Tydfil, on land called\nPantannas, as to the meaning of which there is much controversy. Some\nwill have it that it is properly Pant yr Aros, or the Hollow of the\nStaying, because travellers were sometimes stopped there overnight\nby the swelling of the neighbouring river; others treat it as Pant\nyr Hanes, the Hollow of the Legend, in allusion to the following\nstory. But before the graveyard was made, the spot was called\nRhyd y Grug, or the Ford of the Heather, which grows thereabouts in\nabundance. In front of the old graveyard towards the south the rivers\nTaff and Bargoed, which some would make into Byrgoed or Short-Wood,\nmeet with each other, and thence rush in one over terrible cliffs of\nrock, in the recesses of which lie huge cerwyni or cauldron-like pools,\ncalled respectively the Gerwyn Fach, the Gerwyn Fawr, and the Gerwyn\nGanol, where many a drowning has taken place. As one walks up over\nTarren y Crynwyr, \"the Quakers' Rift,\" until Pantannas is reached,\nand proceeds northwards for about a mile and a half, one arrives at a\nfarm house called Pen Craig Daf [66], \"the Top of the Taff Rock.\" The\npath between the two houses leads through fertile fields, in which\nmay be seen, if one has eyes to observe, small rings which are greener\nthan the rest of the ground. They are, in fact, green even as compared\nwith the greenness around them--these are the rings in which Bendith\ny Mamau used to meet to sing and dance all night. If a man happened\nto get inside one of these circles when the fairies were there, he\ncould not be got out in a hurry, as they would charm him and lead\nhim into some of their caves, where they would keep him for ages,\nunawares to him, listening to their music. The rings vary greatly in\nsize, but in point of form they are all round or oval. I have heard\nmy grandmother,' says Mr. Hughes, 'reciting and singing several of the\nsongs which the fairies sang in these rings. One of them began thus:--\n\n\n                Canu, canu, drwy y nos,\n                Dawnsio, dawnsio, ar Waen y Rhos\n                Y' ngoleuni'r lleuad dlos:\n                        Hapus ydym ni!\n\n                Pawb ohonom syd yn llon\n                Heb un gofid dan ei fron:\n                Canu, dawnsio, ar y ton [67]--\n                        Dedwyd ydym ni!\n\n\n                Singing, singing, through the night,\n                Dancing, dancing with our might,\n                Where the moon the moor doth light,\n                        Happy ever we!\n\n                One and all of merry mien,\n                Without sorrow are we seen,\n                Singing, dancing on the green,\n                        Gladsome ever we!\n\n\nHere follows, in Mr. Hughes' own Welsh, a remarkable story of revenge\nexacted by the fairies:--\n\nYn un o'r canrifoed a aethant heibio, preswyliai amaethwr yn nhydyn\nPantannas, a'r amser hwnnw yr oed bendith y mamau yn ymwelwyr aml ag\namryw gaeau perthynol ido ef, a theimlai yntau gryn gasineb yn ei\nfynwes at yr 'atras fwstrog, leisiog, a chynllwynig,' fel y galwai\nhwynt, a mynych yr hiraethai am allu dyfod o hyd i ryw lwybr er cael\neu gwared odiyno. O'r diwed hysbyswyd ef gan hen reibwraig, fod y\nfford i gael eu gwared yn digon hawd, ac ond ido ef rodi godro un\nhwyr a boreu idi hi, yr hysbysai y fford ido gyrraed yr hyn a fawr\ndymunai. Bodlonod i'w thelerau a derbyniod yntau y cyfarwydyd, yr\nhyn ydoed fel y canlyn:--Ei fod i aredig yr holl gaeau i ba rai yr\noed eu hoff ymgyrchfan, ac ond idynt hwy unwaith golli y ton glas,\ny digient, ac na deuent byth mwy i'w boeni drwy eu hymweliadau a'r lle.\n\nDilynod yr amaethwr ei chyfarwydyd i'r llythyren, a choronwyd ei waith\na llwydiant. Nid oed yr un o honynt i'w weled odeutu y caeau yn awr;\nac yn lle sain eu caniadau soniarus, a glywid bob amser yn dyrchu\no Waen y Rhos, nid oed dim ond y distawrwyd trylwyraf yn teyrnasu o\ngylch eu hen a'u hoff ymgyrchfan.\n\nHauod yr amaethwr wenith, &c., yn y caeau, ac yr oed y gwanwyn gwyrdlas\nwedi gwthio y gauaf odiar ei sed, ac ymdangosai y maesyd yn arderchog\nyn eu llifrai gwyrdleision a gwanwynol.\n\nOnd un prydnawn, ar ol i'r haul ymgilio i yst felloed y gorllewin,\ntra yr oed amaethwr Pantannas yn dychwelyd tua ei gartref cyfarfydwyd\nag ef gan fod bychan ar ffurf dyn, yn gwisgo hugan goch; a phan daeth\ngyferbyn ag ef dadweiniod ei gled bychan, gan gyfeirio ei flaen at\nyr amaethwr, a dywedyd,\n\n\n            Dial a daw,\n            Y mae gerllaw.\n\n\nCeisiod yr amaethwr chwerthin, ond yr oed rhywbeth yn edrychiad sarrug\na llym y gwr bychan ag a barod ido deimlo yn hynod o annymunol.\n\nYchydig o nosweithiau yn diwedarach, pan oed y teulu ar ymneillduo i'w\ngorphwysleoed, dychrynwyd hwy yn fawr iawn gan drwst, fel pe bydai y\nty yn syrthio i lawr bendramwnwgl, ac yn union ar ol i'r twrf beidio,\nclywent y geiriau bygythiol a ganlyn--a dim yn rhagor--yn cael eu\nparablu yn uchel,\n\n\n            Daw dial.\n\n\nPan oed yr yd wedi cael ei fedi ac yn barod i gael ei gywain i'r\nysgubor, yn sydyn ryw noswaith llosgwyd ef fel nad oed yr un dywysen\nna gwelltyn i'w gael yn un man o'r caeau, ac nis gallasai neb fod\nwedi gosod yr yd ar dan ond Bendith y Mamau.\n\nFel ag y mae yn naturiol i ni fedwl teimlod yr amaethwr yn fawr\noherwyd y tro, ac edifarhaod yn ei galon darfod ido erioed wrando\na gwneuthur yn ol cyfarwydyd yr hen reibwraig, ac felly dwyn arno\ndigofaint a chasineb Bendith y Mamau.\n\nDrannoeth i'r noswaith y llosgwyd yr yd fel yr oed yn arolygu y difrod\nachoswyd gan y tan, wele'r gwr bychan ag ydoed wedi ei gyfarfod\nychydig o diwrnodau yn flaenorol yn ei gyfarfod eilwaith a chyda\nthrem herfeidiol pwyntiod ei gledyf ato gan dywedyd,\n\n\n            Nid yw ond dechreu.\n\n\nTrod gwyneb yr amaethwr cyn wynned a'r marmor, a safod gan alw y gwr\nbychan yn ol, ond bu y c\u00f2r yn hynod o wydn ac anewyllysgar i droi ato,\nond ar ol hir erfyn arno trod yn ei ol gan ofyn yn sarrug beth yr oed\nyr amaethwr yn ei geisio, yr hwn a hysbysod ido ei fod yn berffaith\nfodlon i adael y caeau lle yr oed eu hoff ymgyrchfan i dyfu yn don\neilwaith, a rhodi caniatad idynt i dyfod idynt pryd y dewisent,\nond yn unig idynt beidio dial eu llid yn mhellach arno ef.\n\n'Na,' oed yr atebiad penderfynol, 'y mae gair y brenin wedi ei roi\ny byd ido ymdial arnat hyd eithaf ei allu ac nid oes dim un gallu ar\nwyneb y greadigaeth a bair ido gael ei dynnu yn ol.'\n\nDechreuod yr amaethwr wylo ar hyn, ond yn mhen ychydig hysbysod y gwr\nbychan y bydai ido ef siarad a'i bennaeth ar y mater, ac y cawsai\nefe wybod y canlyniad ond ido dyfod i'w gyfarfod ef yn y fan honno\namser machludiad haul drennyd.\n\nAdawod yr amaethwr dyfod i'w gyfarfod, a phan daeth yr amser\napwyntiedig o amgylch ido i gyfarfod a'r bychan cafod ef yno yn\nei aros, ac hysbysod ido fod y pennaeth wedi ystyried ei gais yn\ndifrifol, ond gan fod ei air bob amser yn anghyfnewidiol y buasai y\ndialed bygythiedig yn rhwym o gymeryd lle ar y teulu, ond ar gyfrif\nei edifeirwch ef na chawsai digwyd yn ei amser ef nac eido ei blant.\n\nLlonydod hynny gryn lawer ar fedwl terfysglyd yr amaethwr, a dechreuod\nBendith y Mamau dalu eu hymweliadau a'r lle eilwaith a mynych y clywid\nsain eu cerdoriaeth felusber yn codi o'r caeau amgylchynol yn ystod\ny nos.\n\n\n\nPasiod canrif heibio heb i'r dialed bygythiedig gael ei gyflawni,\nac er fod teulu Pantannas yn cael eu hadgofio yn awr ac eilwaith,\ny buasai yn sicr o digwyd hwyr neu hwyrach, eto wrth hir glywed y waed,\n\n\n            Daw dial,\n\n\nymgynefinasant a hi nes eu bod yn barod i gredu na fuasai dim yn\ndyfod o'r bygythiad byth.\n\nYr oed etifed Pantannas yn caru a merch i dirfediannyd cymydogaethol\na breswyliai mewn tydyn o'r enw Pen Craig Daf. Yr oed priodas y\npar dedwyd i gymeryd lle yn mhen ychydig wythnosau ac ymdangosai\nrhieni y cwpl ieuanc yn hynod o fodlon i'r ymuniad teuluol ag oed ar\ngymeryd lle.\n\nYr oed yn amser y Nadolig--a thalod y darpar wraig ieuanc ymweliad a\ntheulu ei darpar wr, ac yr oed yno wled o wyd rostiedig yn baratoedig\ngogyfer a'r achlysur.\n\nEistedai y cwmni odeutu y tan i adrod rhyw chwedlau difyrrus er mwyn\npasio yr amser, pryd y cawsant eu dychrynu yn fawr gan lais treidgar\nyn dyrchafu megis o wely yr afon yn gwaedi\n\n\n            Daeth amser ymd\u00efal.\n\n\nAethant oll allan i wrando a glywent y lleferyd eilwaith, ond nid oed\ndim i'w glywed ond brochus drwst y dwfr wrth raiadru dros glogwyni\naruthrol y cerwyni. Ond ni chawsant aros i wrando yn hir iawn cyn\nidynt glywed yr un lleferyd eilwaith yn dyrchafu i fyny yn uwch na\nswn y dwfr pan yn bwrlymu dros ysgwydau y graig, ac yn gwaedi,\n\n\n            Daeth yr amser.\n\n\nNis gallent dyfalu beth yr oed yn ei arwydo, a chymaint ydoed eu\nbraw a'u syndod fel nad allent lefaru yr un gair a'u gilyd. Yn mhen\nennyd dychwelasant i'r ty a chyn idynt eisted credent yn dios fod yr\nadeilad yn cael ei ysgwyd id ei sylfeini gan ryw dwrf y tu allan. Pan\nyr oed yr oll wedi cael eu parlysio gan fraw, wele fenyw fechan yn\ngwneuthur ei hymdangosiad ar y bwrd o'u blaen, yr hwn oed yn sefyll\nyn agos i'r ffenestr.\n\n'Beth yr wyt yn ei geisio yma, y peth bychan hagr?' holai un o'r\ngwydfodolion.\n\n'Nid oes gennyf unrhyw neges a thi, y gwr hir dafod,' oed atebiad y\nfenyw fechan. 'Ond yr wyf wedi cael fy anfon yma i adrod rhyw bethau\nag syd ar digwyd i'r teulu hwn, a theulu arall o'r gymydogaeth ag a\ndichon fod o dydordeb idynt, ond gan i mi derbyn y fath sarhad odiar\nlaw y gwr du ag syd yn eisted yn y cornel, ni fyd i mi godi y llen\nag oed yn cudio y dyfodol allan o'u golwg.'\n\n'Atolwg os oes yn dy fediant ryw wybodaeth parth dyfodol rhai o\nhonom ag a fydai yn dydorol i ni gael ei glywed, dwg hi allan,'\nebai un arall o'r gwydfodolion.\n\n'Na wnaf, ond yn unig hysbysu, fod calon gwyryf fel llong ar y traeth\nyn methu cyrraed y porthlad oherwyd digalondid y pilot.'\n\nA chyda ei bod yn llefaru y gair diwedaf diflannod o'u gwyd, na wydai\nneb i ba le na pha fod!\n\nDrwy ystod ci hymweliad hi, peidiod y waed a godasai o'r afon, ond\nyn fuan ar ol idi diflannu, dechreuod eilwaith a chyhoedi\n\n\n            Daeth amser dial,\n\n\nac ni pheidiod am hir amser. Yr oed y cynulliad wedi cael eu mediannu\na gormod o fraw i fedru llefaru yr un gair, ac yr oed llen o brudder\nyn daenedig dros wyneb pob un o honynt. Daeth amser idynt i ymwahanu,\nac aeth Rhyderch y mab i hebrwng Gwerfyl ei gariadferch tua Phen\nCraig Daf, o ba siwrnai ni dychwelod byth.\n\nCyn ymadael a'i fun dywedir idynt dyngu bythol ffydlondeb i'w gilyd,\npe heb weled y naill y llall byth ond hynny, ac nad oed dim a allai\nberi idynt anghofio eu gilyd.\n\nMae yn debygol i'r llanc Rhyderch pan yn dychwelyd gartref gael ei\nhun odifewn i un o gylchoed Bendith y Mamau, ac yna idynt ei hud-denu\ni mewn i un o'u hogofau yn Nharren y Cigfrain, ac yno y bu.\n\n\n\nY mae yn llawn bryd i ni droi ein gwynebau yn ol tua Phantannas a Phen\nCraig Daf. Yr oed rhieni y bachgen anffodus yn mron gwallgofi. Nid\noed gandynt yr un drychfedwl i ba le i fyned i chwilio am dano, ac\ner chwilio yn mhob man a phob lle methwyd yn glir a dyfod o hyd ido,\nna chael gair o'i hanes.\n\nYchydig i fyny yn y cwm mewn ogof dandaearol trigfannai hen feudwy\noedrannus, yr hwn hefyd a ystyrrid yn dewin, o'r enw Gweiryd. Aethant\nyn mhen ychydig wythnosau i ofyn ido ef, a fedrai rodi idynt ryw\nwybodaeth parthed i'w mab colledig--ond i ychydig bwrpas. Ni wnaeth\nyr hyn a adrodod hwnnw wrthynt ond dyfnhau y clwyf a rhoi golwg fwy\nanobeithiol fyth ar yr amgylchiad. Ar ol idynt ei hysbysu ynghylch\nymdangosiad y fenyw fechan ynghyd a'r llais wylofus a glywsent\nyn dyrchafu o'r afon y nos yr aeth ar goll, hysbysod efe idynt\nmai y farn fygythiedig ar y teulu gan Fendith y Mamau oed wedi\ngodiwedid y llanc, ac nad oed o un diben idynt fedwl cael ei weled\nbyth mwyach! Ond feallai y gwnelai ei ymdangosiad yn mhen oesau,\nond dim yn eu hamser hwy.\n\nPasiai yr amser heibio, a chwydod yr wythnosau i fisoed, a'r misoed\ni flynydoed, a chasglwyd tad a mam Rhyderch at eu tadau. Yr oed y\nlle o hyd yn parhau yr un, ond y preswylwyr yn newid yn barhaus,\nac yr oed yr adgofion am ei golledigaeth yn darfod yn gyflym, ond\ner hynny yr oed un yn disgwyl ei dychweliad yn ol yn barhaus, ac\nyn gobeithio megis yn erbyn gobaith am gael ei weled eilwaith. Bob\nboreu gyda bod dorau y wawr yn ymagor dros gaerog fynydoed y dwyrain\ngwelid hi bob tywyd yn rhedeg i ben bryn bychan, a chyda llygaid yn\norlawn o dagrau hiraethlon syllai i bob cyfeiriad i edrych a ganfydai\nryw argoel fod ei hanwylyd yn dychwelyd; ond i dim pwrpas. Canol dyd\ngwelid hi eilwaith yn yr un man, a phan ymgollai yr haul fel pelen\neiriasgoch o d\u00e2n dros y terfyngylch, yr oed hi yno.\n\nEdrychai nes yn agos bod yn dall, ac wylai ei henaid allan o dyd i\ndyd ar ol anwyldyn ei chalon. O'r diwed aeth y rhai syd yn edrych\ndrwy y ffenestri i omed eu gwasanaeth idi, ac yr oed y pren almon\nyn coroni ei phen a'i flagur gwyryfol, ond parhai hi i edrych, ond\nnid oed neb yn dod. Yn llawn o dydiau ac yn aedfed i'r bed rhodwyd\nterfyn ar ei holl obeithion a'i disgwyliadau gan angeu, a chludwyd\nei gwedillion marwol i fynwent hen Gapel y Fan.\n\nPasiai blynydoed heibio fel mwg, ac oesau fel cysgodion y boreu, ac\nnid oed neb yn fyw ag oed yn cofio Rhyderch, ond adrodid ei golliad\ndisymwyth yn aml. Dylasem fynegu na welwyd yr un o Fendith y Mamau\nodeutu y gymydogaeth wedi ei golliad, a pheidiod sain eu cerdoriaeth\no'r nos honno allan.\n\nYr oed Rhyderch wedi cael ei hud-denu i fyned gyda Bendith y Mamau--ac\naethant ag ef i ffwrd i'w hogof. Ar ol ido aros yno dros ychydig o\ndiwrnodau fel y tybiai, gofynnod am ganiatad i dychwelyd, yr hyn a rwyd\nganiatawyd ido gan y brenin. Daeth allan o'r ogof, ac yr oed yn ganol\ndyd braf, a'r haul yn llewyrchu odiar fynwes ffurfafen digwmwl. Cerdod\nyn mlaen o Darren y Cigfrain hyd nes ido dyfod i olwg Capel y Fan,\nond gymaint oed ei syndod pan y gwelod nad oed yr un capel yno! Pa\nle yr oed wedi bod, a pha faint o amser? Gyda theimladau cymysgedig\ncyfeiriod ei gamrau tua Phen Craig Daf, cartref-le ei anwylyd, ond\nnid oed hi yno, ac nid oed yn adwaen yr un dyn ag oed yno chwaith. Ni\nfedrai gael gair o hanes ei gariad a chymerod y rhai a breswylient\nyno mai gwallgofdyn ydoed.\n\nPrysurod eilwaith tua Phantannas, ac yr oed ei syndod yn fwy fyth\nyno! Nid oed yn adwaen yr un o honynt, ac ni wydent hwythau dim am dano\nyntau. O'r diwed daeth gwr y ty i fewn, ac yr oed hwnnw yn cofio clywed\nei dad cu yn adrod am lanc ag oed wedi myned yn disymwyth i goll er ys\npeth cannoed o flynydoed yn ol, ond na wydai neb i ba le. Rywfod neu\ngilyd tarawod gwr y ty ei ffon yn erbyn Rhyderch, pa un a diflannod\nmewn cawod o lwch, ac ni chlywyd air o son beth daeth o hono mwyach.\n\n'In one of the centuries gone by, there lived a husbandman on the farm\nof Pantannas; and at that time the fairies used to pay frequent visits\nto several of the fields which belonged to him. He cherished in his\nbosom a considerable hatred for the \"noisy, boisterous, and pernicious\ntribe,\" as he called them, and often did he long to be able to discover\nsome way to rid the place of them. At last he was told by an old witch\nthat the way to get rid of them was easy enough, and that she would\ntell him how to attain what he so greatly wished, if he gave her one\nevening's milking [68] on his farm, and one morning's. He agreed to her\nconditions, and from her he received advice, which was to the effect\nthat he was to plough all the fields where they had their favourite\nresorts, and that, if they found the green sward gone, they would take\noffence, and never return to trouble him with their visits to the spot.\n\n'The husbandman followed the advice to the letter, and his work was\ncrowned with success. Not a single one of them was now to be seen\nabout the fields, and, instead of the sound of their sweet music,\nwhich used to be always heard rising from the Coarse Meadow Land,\nthe most complete silence now reigned over their favourite resort.\n\n'He sowed his land with wheat and other grain; the verdant spring had\nnow thrust winter off its throne, and the fields appeared splendid\nin their vernal and green livery.\n\n'But one evening, when the sun had retired to the chambers of the west,\nand when the farmer of Pantannas was returning home, he was met by\na diminutive being in the shape of a man, with a red coat on. When\nhe had come right up to him, he unsheathed his little sword, and,\ndirecting the point towards the farmer, he said:--\n\n\n            Vengeance cometh,\n            Fast it approacheth.\n\n\n'The farmer tried to laugh, but there was something in the surly\nand stern looks of the little fellow which made him feel exceedingly\nuncomfortable.\n\n'A few nights afterwards, as the family were retiring to rest, they\nwere very greatly frightened by a noise, as though the house was\nfalling to pieces; and, immediately after the noise, they heard a\nvoice uttering loudly the threatening words--and nothing more:--\n\n\n            Vengeance cometh.\n\n\n'When, however, the corn was reaped and ready to be carried to the\nbarn, it was, all of a sudden, burnt up one night, so that neither\nan ear nor a straw of it could be found anywhere in the fields;\nand now nobody could have set the corn on fire but the fairies.\n\n'As one may naturally suppose, the farmer felt very much on account\nof this event, and he regretted in his heart having done according\nto the witch's direction, and having thereby brought upon him the\nanger and hatred of the fairies.\n\n'The day after the night of the burning of the corn, as he was\nsurveying the destruction caused by the fire, behold the little\nfellow, who had met him a few days before, met him again, and, with\na challenging glance, he pointed his sword towards him, saying:--\n\n\n            It but beginneth.\n\n\nThe farmer's face turned as white as marble, and he stood calling the\nlittle fellow to come back; but the dwarf proved very unyielding and\nreluctant to turn to him; but, after long entreaty, he turned back,\nasking the farmer, in a surly tone, what he wanted, when he was told\nby the latter that he was quite willing to allow the fields, in which\ntheir favourite resorts had been, to grow again into a green sward,\nand to let them frequent them as often as they wished, provided they\nwould no further wreak their anger on him.\n\n'\"No,\" was the determined reply, \"the word of the king has been given,\nthat he will avenge himself on thee to the utmost of his power;\nand there is no power on the face of creation that will cause it to\nbe withdrawn.\"\n\n'The farmer began to weep at this, and, after a while, the little\nfellow said that he would speak to his lord on the matter, and that\nhe would let him know the result, if he would come there to meet him\nat the hour of sunset on the third day after.\n\n'The farmer promised to meet him; and, when the time appointed for\nmeeting the little man came, he found him awaiting him, and he was told\nby him that his lord had seriously considered his request, but that,\nas the king's word was ever immutable, the threatened vengeance was\nto take effect on the family. On account, however, of his repentance,\nit would not be allowed to happen in his time or that of his children.\n\n'That calmed the disturbed mind of the farmer a good deal. The fairies\nbegan again to pay frequent visits to the place, and their melodious\nsinging was again heard at night in the fields around.\n\n\n\n'A century passed by without seeing the threatened vengeance carried\ninto effect; and, though the Pantannas family were reminded now and\nagain that it was certain sooner or later to come, nevertheless,\nby long hearing the voice that said--\n\n\n            Vengeance cometh,\n\n\nthey became so accustomed to it, that they were ready to believe that\nnothing would ever come of the threat.\n\n'The heir of Pantannas was paying his addresses to the daughter of a\nneighbouring landowner who lived at the farm house called Pen Craig\nDaf, and the wedding of the happy pair was to take place in a few\nweeks, and the parents on both sides appeared exceedingly content\nwith the union that was about to take place between the two families.\n\n'It was Christmas time, and the intended wife paid a visit to the\nfamily of her would-be husband. There they had a feast of roast goose\nprepared for the occasion.\n\n'The company sat round the fire to relate amusing tales to pass the\ntime, when they were greatly frightened by a piercing voice, rising,\nas it were, from the bed of the river [69], and shrieking:--\n\n\n            The time for revenge is come.\n\n\n'They all went out to listen if they could hear the voice a second\ntime, but nothing was to be heard save the angry noise of the water as\nit cascaded over the dread cliffs of the kerwyni; they had not long,\nhowever, to wait till they heard again the same voice rising above the\nnoise of the waters, as they boiled over the shoulders of the rock,\nand crying:--\n\n\n            The time is come.\n\n\n'They could not guess what it meant, and so great was their fright\nand astonishment, that no one could utter a word to another. Shortly\nthey returned to the house, when they believed that beyond doubt\nthe building was being shaken to its foundations by some noise\noutside. When all were thus paralysed by fear, behold a little woman\nmade her appearance on the table, which stood near the window.\n\n'\"What dost thou, ugly little thing, want here?\" asked one of those\npresent.\n\n'\"I have nothing to do with thee, O man of the meddling tongue,\" said\nthe little woman, \"but I have been sent here to recount some things\nthat are about to happen to this family and another family in the\nneighbourhood, things that might be of interest to them; but, as I have\nreceived such an insult from the black fellow that sits in the corner,\nthe veil that hides them from their sight shall not be lifted by me.\"\n\n'\"Pray,\" said another of those present, \"if thou hast in thy possession\nany knowledge with regard to the future of any one of us that would\ninterest us to hear, bring it forth.\"\n\n'\"No, I will but merely tell you that a certain maiden's heart is\nlike a ship on the coast, unable to reach the harbour because the\npilot has lost heart.\"\n\n'As soon as she had cried out the last word, she vanished, no one\nknew whither or how.\n\n'During her visit, the cry rising from the river had stopped, but\nsoon afterwards it began again to proclaim:--\n\n\n            The time of vengeance is come;\n\n\nnor did it cease for a long while. The company had been possessed by\ntoo much terror for one to be able to address another, and a sheet\nof gloom had, as it were, been spread over the face of each. The\ntime for parting came, and Rhyderch the heir went to escort Gwerfyl,\nhis lady-love, home towards Pen Craig Daf, a journey from which he\nnever returned.\n\n'Before bidding one another \"Good-bye,\" they are said to have sworn\nto each other eternal fidelity, even though they should never see one\nanother from that moment forth, and that nothing should make the one\nforget the other.\n\n'It is thought probable that the young man Rhyderch, on his way back\ntowards home, got into one of the rings of the fairies, that they\nallured him into one of their caves in the Ravens' Rift, and that\nthere he remained.\n\n\n\n'It is high time for us now to turn back towards Pantannas and\nPen Craig Daf. The parents of the unlucky youth were almost beside\nthemselves: they had no idea where to go to look for him, and, though\nthey searched every spot in the place, they failed completely to find\nhim or any clue to his history.\n\n'A little higher up the country, there dwelt, in a cave underground, an\naged hermit called Gweiryd, who was regarded also as a sorcerer. They\nwent a few weeks afterwards to ask him whether he could give them any\ninformation about their lost son; but it was of little avail. What that\nman told them did but deepen the wound and give the event a still more\nhopeless aspect. When they had told him of the appearance of the little\nwoman, and the doleful cry heard rising from the river on the night\nwhen their son was lost, he informed them that it was the judgement\nthreatened to the family by the fairies that had overtaken the youth,\nand that it was useless for them to think of ever seeing him again:\npossibly he might make his appearance after generations had gone by,\nbut not in their lifetime.\n\n'Time rolled on, weeks grew into months, and months into years, until\nRhyderch's father and mother were gathered to their ancestors. The\nplace continued the same, but the inhabitants constantly changed,\nso that the memory of Rhyderch's disappearance was fast dying\naway. Nevertheless there was one who expected his return all the while,\nand hoped, as it were against hope, to see him once more. Every morn,\nas the gates of the dawn opened beyond the castellated heights of the\neast, she might be seen, in all weathers, hastening to the top of a\nsmall hill, and, with eyes full of the tears of longing, gazing in\nevery direction to see if she could behold any sign of her beloved's\nreturn; but in vain. At noon, she might be seen on the same spot again;\nshe was also there at the hour when the sun was wont to hide himself,\nlike a red-hot ball of fire, below the horizon. She gazed until she\nwas nearly blind, and she wept forth her soul from day to day for\nthe darling of her heart. At last they that looked out at the windows\nbegan to refuse their service, and the almond tree commenced to crown\nher head with its virgin bloom. She continued to gaze, but he came\nnot. Full of days, and ripe for the grave, death put an end to all\nher hopes and all her expectations. Her mortal remains were buried\nin the graveyard of the old Chapel of the Fan [70].\n\n'Years passed away like smoke, and generations like the shadows of\nthe morning, and there was no longer anybody alive who remembered\nRhyderch, but the tale of his sudden missing was frequently in\npeople's mouths. And we ought to have said that after the event no\none of the fairies was seen about the neighbourhood, and the sound\nof their music ceased from that night.\n\n'Rhyderch had been allured by them, and they took him away into their\ncave. When he had stayed there only a few days, as he thought, he asked\nfor permission to return, which was readily granted him by the king. He\nissued from the cave when it was a fine noon, with the sun beaming\nfrom the bosom of a cloudless firmament. He walked on from the Ravens'\nRift until he came near the site of the Fan Chapel; but what was his\nastonishment to find no chapel there! Where, he wondered, had he been,\nand how long away? So with mixed feelings he directed his steps towards\nPen Craig Daf, the home of his beloved one, but she was not there nor\nany one whom he knew either. He could get no word of the history of\nhis sweetheart, and those who dwelt in the place took him for a madman.\n\n'He hastened then to Pantannas, where his astonishment was still\ngreater. He knew nobody there, and nobody knew anything about him. At\nlast the man of the house came in, and he remembered hearing his\ngrandfather relating how a youth had suddenly disappeared, nobody\nknew whither, some hundreds of years previously. Somehow or other the\nman of the house chanced to knock his walking-stick against Rhyderch,\nwhen the latter vanished in a shower of dust. Nothing more was ever\nheard of him.'\n\nBefore leaving Glamorgan, I may add that Mr. Sikes associates fairy\nladies with Crymlyn Lake, between Briton Ferry and Swansea; but,\nas frequently happens with him, he does not deign to tell us whence\nhe got the legend. 'It is also believed,' he says at p. 35, 'that a\nlarge town lies swallowed up there, and that the Gwraged Annwn have\nturned the submerged walls to use as the superstructure of their fairy\npalaces. Some claim to have seen the towers of beautiful castles\nlifting their battlements beneath the surface of the dark waters,\nand fairy bells are at times heard ringing from those towers.' So\nmuch by the way: we shall return to Crymlyn in chapter vii.\n\n\n\n\nXII.\n\nThe other day, as I was going to Gwent, I chanced to be in the Golden\nValley in Herefordshire, where the names in the churchyards seem\nlargely to imply a Welsh population, though the Welsh language has\nnot been heard there for ages. Among others I noticed Joneses and\nWilliamses in abundance at Abbey Dore, Evanses and Bevans, Morgans,\nProssers and Prices, not to mention Sayces--that is to say, Welshmen of\nEnglish extraction or education--a name which may also be met with in\nLittle England in Pembrokeshire, and probably on other English-Welsh\nborders. Happening to have to wait for a train at the Abbey Dore\nstation, I got into conversation with the tenants of a cottage hard\nby, and introduced the subject of the fairies. The old man knew\nnothing about them, but his wife, Elizabeth Williams, had been a\nservant girl at a place called Pen P\u00f4ch, which she pronounced with\nthe Welsh guttural ch: she said that it is near Llandeilo Cressenny\nin Monmouthshire. It was about forty years ago when she served at\nPen P\u00f4ch, and her mistress' name was Evans, who was then about fifty\nyears of age. Now Mrs. Evans was in the habit of impressing on her\nservant girls' minds, that, unless they made the house tidy before\ngoing to bed, and put everything in its place overnight, the little\npeople--the fairies, she thinks she called them--would leave them\nno rest in bed at night, but would come and 'pinch them like.' If\nthey put everything in its place, and left the house 'tidy like,' it\nwould be all right, and 'nobody would do anything to them like.' That\nis all I could get from her without prompting her, which I did at\nlength by suggesting to her that the fairies might leave the tidy\nservants presents, a shilling 'on the hearth or the hob like.' Yes,\nshe thought there was something of that sort, and her way of answering\nme suggested that this was not the first time she had heard of the\nshilling. She had never been lucky enough to have had one herself,\nnor did she know of anybody else that 'had got it like.'\n\nDuring a brief but very pleasant sojourn at Llanover in May, 1883,\nI made some inquiries about the fairies, and obtained the following\naccount from William Williams, who now, in his seventieth year, works\nin Lady Llanover's garden:--'I know of a family living a little way\nfrom here at ----, or as they would now call it in English ----,\nwhose ancestors, four generations ago, used to be kind to Bendith\ny Mamau, and always welcomed their visits by leaving at night a\nbasinful of bread and milk for them near the fire. It always used to\nbe eaten up before the family got up in the morning. But one night\na naughty servant man gave them instead of milk a bowlful of urine\n[71]. They, on finding it out, threw it about the house and went\naway disgusted. But the servant watched in the house the following\nnight. They found him out, and told him that he had made fools of\nthem, and that in punishment for his crime there would always be a\nfool, i.e. an idiot, in his family. As a matter of fact, there was\none among his children afterwards, and there is one in the family\nnow. They have always been in a bad way ever since, and they never\nprosper. The name of the man who originally offended the fairies\nwas ----; and the name of the present fool among his descendants is\n----.' For evident reasons it is not desirable to publish the names.\n\nWilliams spoke also of a sister to his mother, who acted as servant\nto his parents. There were, he said, ten stepping stones between his\nfather's house and the well, and on every one of these stones his\naunt used to find a penny every morning, until she made it known to\nothers, when, of course, the pennies ceased coming. He did not know\nwhy the fairies gave money to her, unless it was because she was a\nmost tidy servant.\n\nAnother Llanover gardener remembered that the fairies used to\nchange children, and that a certain woman called Nani Fach in that\nneighbourhood was one of their offspring; and he had been told that\nthere were fairy rings in certain fields not far away in Llanover\nparish.\n\nA third gardener, who is sixty-eight years of age, and is likewise in\nLady Llanover's employ, had heard it said that servant girls about\nhis home were wont to sweep the floor clean at night, and to throw\ncrumbs of bread about on it before going to bed.\n\nLastly, Mrs. Gardner of Ty Uchaf Llanover, who is ninety years of age,\nremembers having a field close to Capel Newyd near Blaen Afon, in\nLlanover Uchaf, pointed out to her as containing fairy rings; and she\nrecollects hearing, when she was a child, that a man had got into one\nof them. He remained away from home, as they always did, she said, a\nwhole year and a day; but she has forgotten how he was recovered. Then\nshe went on to say that her father had often got up in the night to\nsee that his horses were not taken out and ridden about the fields\nby Bendith y Mamau; for they were wont to ride people's horses late\nat night round the four corners of the fields, and thereby they often\nbroke the horses' wind. This, she gave me to understand, was believed\nin the parish of Llanover and that part of the country generally. So\nhere we have an instance probably of confounding fairies with witches.\n\nI have not the means at my command of going at length into the folklore\nof Gwent, so I will merely mention where the reader may find a good\ndeal about it. I have already introduced the name of the credulous\nold Christian, Edmund Jones of the Tranch: he published at Trefecca\nin the year 1779 a small volume entitled, A Geographical, Historical,\nand Religious Account of the Parish of Aberystruth in the County of\nMonmouth, to which are added Memoirs of several Persons of Note who\nlived in the said Parish. In 1813, by which time he seems to have left\nthis world for another, where he expected to understand all about the\nfairies and their mysterious life, a small volume of his was published\nat Newport, bearing the title, A Relation of Apparitions of Spirits\nin the County of Monmouth and the Principality of Wales, with other\nnotable Relations from England, together with Observations about\nthem, and Instructions from them, designed to confute and to prevent\nthe Infidelity of denying the Being and Apparition of Spirits, which\ntends to Irreligion and Atheism. By the late Rev. Edmund Jones, of the\nTranch. Naturally those volumes have been laid under contribution by\nMr. Sikes, though the tales about apparitions in them are frequently\nof a ghastly nature, and sometimes loathsome: on the whole, they\nremind me more than anything else I have ever read of certain Breton\ntales which breathe fire and brimstone: all such begin to be now out\nof fashion in Protestant countries. I shall at present only quote a\npassage of quite a different nature from the earlier volume, p. 72--it\nis an interesting one, and it runs thus:--'It was the general opinion\nin times past, when these things were very frequent, that the fairies\nknew whatever was spoken in the air without the houses, not so much\nwhat was spoken in the houses. I suppose they chiefly knew what\nwas spoken in the air at night. It was also said that they rather\nappeared to an uneven number of persons, to one, three, five, &c.;\nand oftener to men than to women. Thomas William Edmund, of Havodavel,\nan honest pious man, who often saw them, declared that they appeared\nwith one bigger than the rest going before them in the company.' With\nthe notion that the fairies heard everything uttered out of doors\nmay be compared the faculty attributed to the great magician king,\nMath ab Mathonwy, of hearing any whisper whatsoever that met the wind:\nsee the Oxford Mabinogion, p. 60, and Guest's Mabinogion, iii. 219; see\nalso respectively pp. 94, 96, and pp. 308, 310, as to the same faculty\nbelonging to the fairy people of the Corannians, and the strange\nprecautions taken against them by the brothers Ll\u00fbd and Llevelys.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nFAIRY WAYS AND WORDS\n\n                            Heavens defend me from that Welsh fairy!\n\n                                                            Shakespeare.\n\n\nIn the previous chapters, the fairy lore of the Principality was\nhastily skimmed without any method; and I fear that, now I have to\nreproduce some of the things which I gleaned somewhat later, there\nwill be, if possible, still less method. The general reader, in case\nhe chances on these pages, will doubtless feel that, as soon as he\nhas read a few of the tales, the rest seem to be familiar to him,\nand exceedingly tiresome. It may be, however, presumed that all men\nanxious to arrive at an idea as to the origin among us of the belief\nin fairies, will agree that we should have as large and exhaustive a\ncollection as possible of facts on which to work. If we can supply\nthe data without stint, the student of anthropology may be trusted\nin time to discover their value for his inductions, and their place\nin the history of the human race.\n\n\n\n\nI.\n\nIn the course of the summer of 1882 [72] I was a good deal in Wales,\nespecially Carnarvonshire, and I made notes of a great many scraps\nof legends about the fairies, and other bits of folklore. I will now\nstring some of them together as I found them. I began at Trefriw [73],\nin Nant Conwy, where I came across an old man, born and bred there,\ncalled Morris Hughes. He appears to be about seventy years of age:\nhe formerly worked as a slater, but now he lives at Llanrwst, and\ntries to earn a livelihood by angling. He told me that fairies came a\nlong while ago to Cowlyd Farm, near Cowlyd Lake, with a baby to dress,\nand asked to be admitted into the house, saying that they would pay\nwell for it. Their request was granted, and they used to leave money\nbehind them. One day the servant girl accidentally found they had\nalso left some stuff they were in the habit of using in washing their\nchildren. She examined it, and, one of her eyes happening to itch, she\nrubbed it with the finger that had touched the stuff; so when she went\nto Llanrwst Fair she saw the same fairy folks there stealing cakes from\na standing, and asked them why they did that. They inquired with what\neye she saw them: she put her hand to the eye, and one of the fairies\nquickly rubbed it, so that she never saw any more of them. They were\nalso very fond of bringing their children to be dressed in the houses\nbetween Trefriw and Llanrwst; and on the flat land bordering on the\nConwy they used to dance, frolic, and sing every moonlight night. Evan\nThomas of Sgubor Gerrig used to have money from them. He has been dead,\nMorris Hughes said, over sixty years: he had on his land a sort of\ncowhouse where the fairies had shelter, and hence the pay.\n\nMorris, when a boy, used to be warned by his parents to take care\nlest he should be stolen by the fairies. He knew Thomas Williams\nof Bryn Syllty, or, as he was commonly called, Twm Bryn Syllty, who\nwas a changeling. He was a sharp, small man, afraid of nothing. He\nmet his death some years ago by drowning near Eglwys Fach, when he\nwas about sixty-three years of age. There are relatives of his about\nLlanrwst still: that is, relatives of his mother, if indeed she was\nhis mother (os oed hi'n fam ido fo, ynt\u00e9). Lastly, Morris had a tale\nabout a mermaid cast ashore by a storm near Conway. She entreated\nthe fishermen who found her to help her back into her native element;\nand on their refusing to comply she prayed them to place her tail at\nleast in the water. A very crude rhyme describes her dying of exposure\nto the cold, thus:--\n\n\n            Y forforwyn ar y traeth,\n            Crio gwaedu'n arw wnaeth,\n            Ofn y deuai drycin drannoeth:\n            Yr hin yn oer a rhewi wnaeth.\n\n            The stranded mermaid on the beach\n            Did sorely cry and sorely screech,\n            Afraid to bide the morrow's breeze:\n            The cold it came, and she did freeze.\n\n\nBut before expiring, the mermaid cursed the people of Conway to be\nalways poor, and Conway has ever since, so goes the tale, laboured\nunder the curse; so that when a stranger happens to bring a sovereign\nthere, the Conway folk, if silver is required, have to send across\nthe water to Llansanffraid for change.\n\nMy next informant was John Duncan Maclaren, who was born in 1812,\nand lives at Trefriw. His father was a Scotsman, but Maclaren is in\nall other respects a Welshman. He also knew the Sgubor Gerrig people,\nand that Evan Thomas and Lowri his wife had exceeding great trouble to\nprevent their son Roger from being carried away by the fairies. For\nthe fairy maids were always trying to allure him away, and he was\nconstantly finding fairy money. The fairy dance, and the playing\nand singing that accompanied it, used to take place in a field in\nfront of his father's house; but Lowri would never let her son go\nout after the sun had gone to his battlements (ar ol i'r haul fyn'd\ni lawr i gaera). The most dangerous nights were those when the moon\nshone brightly, and pretty wreaths of mist adorned the meadows by the\nriver. Maclaren had heard of a man, whom he called Si\u00f4n Catrin of Tyn\nTwll, finding a penny every day at the pistyll or water-spout near\nthe house, when he went there to fetch water. The flat land between\nTrefriw and Llanrwst had on it a great many fairy rings, and some of\nthem are, according to Maclaren, still to be seen. There the fairies\nused to dance, and when a young man got into one of the rings the\nfairy damsels took him away; but he could be got out unharmed at the\nend of a year and a day, when he would be found dancing with them in\nthe same ring: he must then be dexterously touched by some one of his\nfriends with a piece of iron and dragged out at once. This is the\nway in which a young man whom my notes connect with a place called\nBryn Glas was recovered. He had gone out with a friend, who lost him,\nand he wandered into a fairy ring. He had new shoes on at the time,\nand his friends brought him out at the end of the interval of a year\nand a day; but he could not be made to understand that he had been away\nmore than five minutes, until he was asked to look at his new shoes,\nwhich were by that time in pieces. Maclaren had also something to\nsay concerning the history and habitat of the fairies. Those of Nant\nConwy dress in green; and his mother, who died about sixty-two years\nago, aged forty-seven, had told him that they lived seven years on\nthe earth, seven years in the air, and seven years underground. He\nalso had a mermaid tale, like that of Pergrin from Dyfed, p. 163. A\nfisherman from Llandrillo yn Rhos, between Colwyn and Llandudno,\nhad caught a mermaid in his net. She asked to be set free, promising\nthat she would, in case he complied, do him a kindness. He consented,\nand one fine day, a long while afterwards, she suddenly peeped out\nof the water near him, and shouted: Si\u00f4n Ifan, cwyd dy rwyda' a thyn\ntua'r lan, 'John Evans, take up thy nets and make for the shore.' He\nobeyed, and almost immediately there was a terrible storm, in which\nmany fishermen lost their lives. The river Conwy is the chief haunt of\nthe mysterious afanc, already mentioned, p. 130, and Maclaren stated\nthat its name used to be employed within his memory to frighten girls\nand children: so much was it still dreaded. Perhaps I ought to have\nstated that Maclaren is very fond of music, and that he told me of\na gentleman at Conway who had taken down in writing a supposed fairy\ntune. I have made inquiries of the latter's son, Mr. Hennessy Hughes\nof Conway; but his father's papers seem to have been lost, so that\nhe cannot find the tune in question, though he has heard of it.\n\nWhilst on this question of music let me quote from the Llwyd letter\nin the Cambrian Journal for 1859, pp. 145-6, on which I have already\ndrawn, pp. 130-3, above. The passage in point is to the following\neffect:--\n\n'I will leave these tales aside whilst I go as far as the Ogo Du,\n\"the Black Cave,\" which is in the immediate vicinity of Crigcieth [74],\nand into which the musicians entered so far that they lost their way\nback. One of them was heard to play on his pipe, and another on his\nhorn, about two miles from where they went in; and the place where\nthe piper was heard is called Braich y Bib, and where the man with\nthe horn was heard is called Braich y Cornor. I do not believe that\neven a single man doubts but that this is all true, and I know not\nhow the airs called Ffarwel Dic y Pibyd, \"Dick the Piper's Farewell,\"\nand Ffarwel Dwm Bach, \"Little Tom's Farewell,\" had those names, unless\nit was from the musicians above mentioned. Nor do I know that Ned Puw\nmay not have been the third, and that the air called Ffarwel Ned Puw,\n\"Ned Pugh's Farewell,\" may not have been the last he played before\ngoing into the cave. I cannot warrant this to be true, as I have only\nheard it said by one man, and he merely held it as a supposition,\nwhich had been suggested by this air of Ffarwel Dic y Pibyd.'\n\nA story, however, mentioned by Cyndelw in the Brython for 1860, p. 57,\nmakes Ned Pugh enter the cave of Tal y Clegyr, which the writer in\nhis article identifies with Ness Cliff, near Shrewsbury. In that\ncave, which was regarded as a wonderful one, he says the musician\ndisappeared, while the air he was playing, Ffarwel Ned Puw, \"Ned Pugh's\nFarewell,\" was retained in memory of him. Some account of the departure\nof Ned Pugh and of the interminable cave into which he entered, will be\nfound given in a rambling fashion in the Cambrian Quarterly Magazine\n(London, 1829), vol. i, pp. 40-5, where the minstrel's Welsh name\nis given as Iolo ap Huw. There we are told that he was last seen in\nthe twilight of a misty Halloween, and the notes of the tune he was\nlast heard to play are duly given. One of the surmises as to Iolo's\nultimate fate is also recorded, namely, that in the other world he has\nexchanged his fiddle for a bugle, and become huntsman-in-chief to Gwyn\nab N\u00fbd, so that every Halloween he may be found cheering Cwn Annwn,\n'the Hounds of the Other World,' over Cader Idris [75].\n\nThe same summer I fell in with Mr. Morris Evans, of Cerrig M\u00e2n, near\nAmlwch. He is a mining agent on the Gwydir Estate in the Vale of Conwy,\nbut he is a native of the neighbourhood of Parys Mountain, in Anglesey,\nwhere he acquired his knowledge of mining. He had heard fairy tales\nfrom his grandmother, Grace Jones, of Llwyn Ysgaw near Mynyd Mechell,\nbetween Amlwch and Holyhead. She died, nearly ninety years of age,\nover twenty years ago. She used to relate how she and others of her\nown age were wont in their youth to go out on bright moonlight nights\nto a spot near Llyn y Bwch. They seldom had to wait there long before\nthey would hear exquisite music and behold a grand palace standing\non the ground. The diminutive folks of fairyland would then come\nforth to dance and frolic. The next morning the palace would be found\ngone, but the grandmother used to pick up fairy money on the spot,\nand this went on regularly so long as she did not tell others of her\nluck. My informant, who is himself a man somewhat over fifty-two,\ntells me that at a place not far from Llyn y Bwch there were plenty\nof fairy rings to be seen in the grass; and it is in them the fairies\nwere supposed to dance [76].\n\nFrom Llanrwst I went up to see the bard and antiquary, Mr. Gethin\nJones. His house was prettily situated on the hillside on the left\nof the road as you approach the village of Penmachno. I was sorry to\nfind that his memory had been considerably impaired by a paralytic\nstroke from which he had suffered not long before. However, from his\nroom he pointed out to me a spot on the other side of the Machno,\ncalled Y Werdon, which means 'The Green Land,' or more literally,\n'The Greenery,' so to say. It was well known for its green, grassy\nfairy rings, formerly frequented by the Tylwyth Teg; and he said he\ncould distinguish some of the rings even then from where he stood. The\nWerdon is on the Bennar, and the Bennar is the high ground between\nPenmachno and Dolwydelan. The spot in question is on the part nearest\nto the Conwy Falls. This name, Y Werdon, is liable to be confounded\nwith Iwerdon, 'Ireland,' which is commonly treated as if it began with\nthe definite article, so that it is made into Y Werdon and Werdon. The\nfairy Werdon, in the radical form Gwerdon, not only recalls to my mind\nthe Green Isles called Gwerdonau Ll\u00efon, but also the saying, common\nin North Wales, that a person in great anxiety 'sees Y Werdon.' Thus,\nfor instance, a man who fails to return to his family at the hour\nexpected, and believes his people to be in great anxiety about him,\nexpresses himself by saying that they will have 'seen the Werdon on my\naccount' (mi fydan' wedi gwel'd y Werdon am dana'i). Is that Ireland,\nor is it the land of the fairies, the other world, in fact? If the\nlatter, it might simply mean they will have died of anxiety; but I\nconfess I have not so far been able to decide. I am not aware that\nthe term occurs in any other form of expression than the one I have\ngiven; if it had, and if the Werdon were spoken of in some other way,\nthat might possibly clear up the difficulty. If it refers to Ireland,\nit must imply that sighting Ireland is equivalent to going astray at\nsea, meaning in this sort of instance, getting out of one's senses;\nbut the Welsh are not very much given to nautical expressions. It\nreminds me somewhat of Gerald Griffin's allusion to the Phantom City,\nand the penalty paid by those who catch a glimpse of its turrets as\nthe dividing waves expose them for a moment to view on the western\ncoast of Ireland:--\n\n\n        Soon close the white waters to screen it,\n        And the bodement, they say, of the wonderful sight,\n        Is death to the eyes that have seen it.\n\n\nThe Fairy Glen above Bettws y Coed is called in Welsh Ffos 'Nodyn,\n'the Sink of the Abyss'; but Mr. Gethin Jones told me that it was\nalso called Glyn y Tylwyth Teg, which is very probable, as some\nsuch a designation is required to account for the English name, 'the\nFairy Glen.' People on the Capel Garmon side used to see the Tylwyth\nplaying there, and descending into the Ffos or Glen gently and lightly\nwithout occasioning themselves the least harm. The Fairy Glen was,\ndoubtless, supposed to contain an entrance to the world below. This\nreminds one of the name of the pretty hollow running inland from the\nrailway station at Bangor. Why should it be called Nant Uffern, or\n'The Hollow of Hell'? Can it be that there was a supposed entrance\nto the fairy world somewhere there? In any case, I am quite certain\nthat Welsh place-names involve allusions to the fairies much oftener\nthan has been hitherto supposed; and I should be inclined to cite, as\na further example, Moel Eilio [77] or Moel Eilian, from the personal\nname Eilian, to be mentioned presently. Moel Eilian is a mountain under\nwhich the fairies were supposed to have great stores of treasure. But\nto return to Mr. Gethin Jones, I had almost forgotten that I have\nanother instance of his in point. He showed me a passage in a paper\nwhich he wrote in Welsh some time ago on the antiquities of Yspyty\nIfan. He says that where the Serw joins the Conwy there is a cave,\nto which tradition asserts that a harpist was once allured by the\nTylwyth Teg. He was, of course, not seen afterwards, but the echo of\nthe music made by him and them on their harps is still to be heard\na little lower down, under the field called to this day Gweirglod y\nTelynorion, 'The Harpers' Meadow': compare the extract from Edward\nLlwyd's correspondence at p. 202 above.\n\nMr. Gethin Jones also spoke to me of the lake called Llyn Pencraig,\nwhich was drained in hopes of finding lead underneath it, an\nexpectation not altogether doomed to disappointment, and he informed\nme that its old name was Llyn Llifon; so the moor around it was called\nGwaen Llifon. It appears to have been a large lake, but only in wet\nweather, and to have no deep bed. The names connected with the spot\nare now Nant Gwaen Llifon and the Gwaith (or Mine) of Gwaen Llifon:\nthey are, I understand, within the township of Trefriw. The name Llyn\nLlifon is of great interest when taken in connexion with the Triadic\naccount of the cataclysm called the Bursting of Llyn Llifon. Mr. Gethin\nJones, however, believed himself that Llyn Ll\u00efon was no other than\nBala Lake, through which the Dee makes her way.\n\n\n\n\nII.\n\nOne day in August of the same year, I arrived at Dinas Station, and\nwalked down to Llandwrog in order to see Dinas Dinlle, and to ascertain\nwhat traditions still existed there respecting Caer Arianrhod,\nLlew Llawgyffes, Dylan Eilton, and other names that figure in the\nMabinogi of Math ab Mathonwy. I called first on the schoolmaster,\nand he kindly took me to the clerk, Hugh Evans, a native of the\nneighbourhood of Llangefni, in Anglesey. He had often heard people\ntalk of some women having once on a time come from Tregar Anthreg\nto Cae'r 'Loda', a place near the shore, to fetch food or water, and\nthat when they looked back they beheld the town overflowed by the sea:\nthe walls can still be seen at low water. Gwennan was the name of one\nof the women, and she was buried at the place now called Bed Gwennan,\nor Gwennan's Grave. He had also heard the fairy tales of Waen Fawr\nand Nant y Bettws, narrated by the antiquary, Owen Williams of the\nformer place. For instance, he had related to him the tale of the man\nwho slept on a clump of rushes, and thought he was all the while in\na magnificent mansion; see p. 100, above. Now I should explain that\nTregar Anthreg is to be seen at low water from Dinas Dinlle as a\nrock not far from the shore. The Caranthreg which it implies is one\nof the modern forms to which Caer Arianrhod has been reduced; and to\nthis has been prefixed a synonym of caer, namely, tref, reduced to\ntre', just as Carmarthen is frequently called Tre' Gaerfyrdin. Cae'r\n'Loda' is explained as Cae'r Aelodau', 'The Field of the Limbs'; but\nI am sorry to say that I forgot to note the story explanatory of the\nname. It is given, I think, to a farm, and so is Bed Gwennan likewise\nthe name of a farm house. The tenant of the latter, William Roberts,\nwas at home when I visited the spot. He told me the same story,\nbut with a variation: three sisters had come from Tregan Anrheg to\nfetch provisions, when their city was overflowed. Gwen fled to the\nspot now called Bed Gwennan, Elan to Tydyn Elan, or Elan's Holding,\nand Maelan to Rhos Maelan, or Maelan's Moor; all three are names of\nplaces in the immediate neighbourhood.\n\nFrom Dinas Dinlle I was directed across Lord Newborough's grounds at\nGlynllifon to Pen y Groes Station; but on my way I had an opportunity\nof questioning several of the men employed at Glynllifon. One of\nthese was called William Thomas Solomon, an intelligent middle-aged\nman, who works in the garden there. He said that the three women\nwho escaped from the submerged city were sisters, and that he had\nlearned in his infancy to call them Gwennan bi D\u00f4n, Elan bi D\u00f4n,\nand Maelan bi D\u00f4n. Lastly, the name of the city, according to him,\nwas Tregan Anthrod. I had the following forms of the name that\nday:--Tregar Anrheg, Tregar Anthreg, Tregan Anrheg, Tregan Anthreg,\nand Tregan Anthrod. All these are attempts to reproduce what might\nbe written Tre'-Gaer-Arianrhod. The modification of nrh into nthr\nis very common in North Wales, and Tregar Anrheg seems to have been\nfashioned on the supposition that the name had something to do with\nanrheg, 'a gift.' Tregan Anthrod is undoubtedly the Caer Arianrhod,\nor 'fortress of Arianrhod,' in the Mabinogi, and it is duly marked\nas such in a map of Speede's at the spot where it should be. Now the\nArianrhod of the Mabinogi of Math could hardly be called a lady of\nrude virtue, and it is the idea in the neighbourhood that the place\nwas inundated on account of the wickedness of the inhabitants. So\nit would appear that Gwennan, Elan, and Maelan, Arianrhod's sisters,\nwere the just ones allowed to escape. Arianrhod was probably drowned as\nthe principal sinner in possession; but I did not find, as I expected,\nthat the crime which called for such an expiation was in this instance\nthat of playing cards on Sunday. In fact, this part of the legend\ndoes not seem to have been duly elaborated as yet.\n\nI must now come back to Solomon's bi D\u00f4n, which puzzles me not\na little. Arianrhod was daughter of D\u00f4n, and so several other\ncharacters in the same Mabinogi were children of D\u00f4n. But what is bi\nD\u00f4n? I have noticed that all the Welsh antiquaries who take Don out\nof books invariably call that personage D\u00f2n or Donn with a short o,\nwhich is wrong, and this has saved me from being deceived once or\ntwice: so I take it that bi D\u00f4n is, as Solomon asserted, a local\nexpression of which he did not know the meaning. I can only add,\nin default of a better explanation, that bi D\u00f4n recalled to my mind\nwhat I had shortly before heard on my trip from Aberdaron to Bardsey\nIsland. My wife and I, together with two friends, engaged, after much\neloquent haggling, a boat at the former place, but one of the men who\nwere to row us insinuated a boy of his, aged four, into the boat, an\naddition which did not exactly add to the pleasures of that somewhat\nperilous trip amidst incomprehensible currents. But the Aberdaron\nboatmen always called that child bi Donn, which I took to have been\na sort of imitation of an infantile pronunciation of 'baby John,' for\nhis name was John, which Welsh infants as a rule first pronounce Donn:\nI can well remember the time when I did. This, applied to Gwennan bi\nD\u00f4n, would imply that Solomon heard it as a piece of nursery lore when\nhe was a child, and that it meant simply--Gwennan, baby or child of\nD\u00f4n. Lastly, the only trace of Dylan I could find was in the name of\na small promontory, called variously by the Glynllifon men Pwynt Maen\nTylen, which was Solomon's pronunciation, and Pwynt Maen Dulan. It is\nalso known, as I was given to understand, as Pwynt y Wig: I believe\nI have seen it given in maps as Maen Dylan Point.\n\nSolomon told me the following fairy tale, and he was afterwards kind\nenough to have it written out for me. I give it in his own words,\nas it is peculiar in some respects:--\n\nMi'r oed gwr a gwraig yn byw yn y Garth Dorwen [78] ryw gyfnod maith yn\nol, ag aethant i Gaer'narfon i gyflogi morwyn ar dyd ffair G'langaeaf,\nag yr oed yn arferiad gan feibion a merched y pryd hynny i'r rhai oed\nyn sefyll allan am lefyd aros yn top y maes presennol wrth boncan las\noed yn y fan y lle saif y Post-office presennol; aeth yr hen wr a'r\nhen wraig at y fan yma a gwelent eneth lan a gwallt melyn yn sefyll\n'chydig o'r neilldu i bawb arall; aeth yr hen wraig ati a gofynnod i'r\neneth oed arni eisiau lle. Atebod fod, ag felly cyflogwyd yr eneth\nyn dioed a daeth i'w lle i'r amser penodedig. Mi fydai yn arferiad\nyr adeg hynny o nydu ar ol swper yn hirnos y gauaf, ag fe fydai y\nforwyn yn myn'd i'r weirglod i nydu wrth oleu y lloer; ag fe fydai\ntylwyth teg yn dwad ati hi i'r weirglod i ganu a dawnsio. A ryw bryd\nyn y gwanwyn pan esdynnod y dyd diangod Eilian gyd a'r tylwythion teg\ni ffwrd, ag ni welwyd 'mo'ni mwyach. Mae y cae y gwelwyd hi diwethaf\nyn cael ei alw hyd y dyd hedyw yn Gae Eilian a'r weirglod yn Weirglod\ny Forwyn. Mi'r oed hen wraig y Garth Dorwen yn arfer rhoi gwraged yn\neu gwl\u00e2u, a bydai pawb yn cyrchu am dani o bob cyfeiriad; a rhyw bryd\ndyma wr bonedig ar ei geffyl at y drws ar noswaith loergan lleuad,\na hithau yn glawio 'chydig ag yn niwl braid, i 'nol yr hen wreigan at\nei wraig; ag felly aeth yn sgil y gwr d\u00efarth ar gefn y march i Ros y\nCowrt. Ar ganol y Rhos pryd hynny 'r oed poncan lled uchel yn debyg i\nhen amdiffynfa a llawer o gerrig mawrion ar ei phen a charned fawr o\ngerrig yn yr ochor ogledol idi, ag mae hi i'w gwel'd hyd y dyd hedyw\ndan yr enw Bryn y Pibion. Pan gyrhaedasan' y lle aethan' i ogo' fawr\nag aethan' i 'stafell lle'r oed y wraig yn ei gwely, a'r lle crandia'\na welod yr hen wraig yrioed. Ag fe roth y wraig yn ei gwely ag aeth at\ny tan i drin y babi; ag ar ol idi orphen dyna y gwr yn dod a photel\ni'r hen wraig i hiro llygaid y babi ag erfyn arni beidio a'i gyffwr'\na'i llygaid ei hun. Ond ryw fod ar ol rhoi y botel heibio fe daeth\ncosfa ar lygaid yr hen wraig a rhwbiod ei llygaid \u00e2'r un bys ag oed\nwedi bod yn rhwbio llygaid y baban a gwelod hefo 'r llygad hwnnw\ny wraig yn gorfed ar docyn o frwyn a rhedyn crinion mewn ogo' fawr\no gerrig mawr o bob tu idi a 'chydig bach o dan mewn rhiw gornel,\na gwelod mai Eilian oed hi, ei hen forwyn, ag hefo'r llygad arall yn\ngwel'd y lle crandia' a welod yrioed. Ag yn mhen ychydig ar ol hynny\naeth i'r farchnad i Gaer'narfon a gwelod y gwr a gofynnod ido--'Pa\nsud mae Eilian?' 'O y mae hi yn bur da,' medai wrth yr hen wraig: 'a\npha lygad yr ydych yn fy ngwel'd?' 'Hefo hwn,' medai hithau. Cymerod\nbabwyren ag a'i tynod allan ar unwaith.\n\n'An old man and his wife lived at the Garth Dorwen in some period\na long while ago. They went to Carnarvon to hire a servant maid at\nthe Allhallows' [79] fair; and it was the custom then for young men\nand women who stood out for places to station themselves at the top\nof the present Maes, by a little green eminence which was where the\npresent Post-office stands. The old man and his wife went to that\nspot, and saw there a lass with yellow hair, standing a little apart\nfrom all the others; the old woman went to her and asked her if she\nwanted a place. She replied that she did, and so she hired herself at\nonce and came to her place at the time fixed. In those times it was\ncustomary during the long winter nights that spinning should be done\nafter supper. Now the maid servant would go to the meadow to spin by\nthe light of the moon, and the Tylwyth Teg used to come to her to sing\nand dance. But some time in the spring, when the days had grown longer,\nEilian escaped with the Tylwyth Teg, so that she was seen no more. The\nfield where she was last seen is to this day called Eilian's Field,\nand the meadow is known as the Maid's Meadow. The old woman of Garth\nDorwen was in the habit of putting women to bed, and she was in great\nrequest far and wide. Some time after Eilian's escape there came a\ngentleman on horseback to the door one night when the moon was full,\nwhile there was a slight rain and just a little mist, to fetch the\nold woman to his wife. So she rode off behind the stranger on his\nhorse, and came to Rhos y Cowrt. Now there was at that time, in the\ncentre of the rhos, somewhat of a rising ground that looked like an\nold fortification, with many big stones on the top, and a large cairn\nof stones on the northern side: it is to be seen there to this day,\nand it goes by the name of Bryn y Pibion, but I have never visited the\nspot. When they reached the spot, they entered a large cave, and they\nwent into a room where the wife lay in her bed; it was the finest place\nthe old woman had seen in her life. When she had successfully brought\nthe wife to bed, she went near the fire to dress the baby; and when she\nhad done, the husband came to the old woman with a bottle of ointment\n[80] that she might anoint the baby's eyes; but he entreated her not\nto touch her own eyes with it. Somehow after putting the bottle by,\none of the old woman's eyes happened to itch, and she rubbed it with\nthe same finger that she had used to rub the baby's eyes. Then she\nsaw with that eye how the wife lay on a bundle of rushes and withered\nferns in a large cave, with big stones all round her, and with a little\nfire in one corner; and she saw also that the lady was only Eilian,\nher former servant girl, whilst, with the other eye, she beheld the\nfinest place she had ever seen. Not long afterwards the old midwife\nwent to Carnarvon to market, when she saw the husband, and said to\nhim, \"How is Eilian?\" \"She is pretty well,\" said he to the old woman,\n\"but with what eye do you see me?\" \"With this one,\" was the reply;\nand he took a bulrush and put her eye out at once.'\n\nThat is exactly the tale, my informant tells me, as he heard it from\nhis mother, who heard it from an old woman who lived at Garth Dorwen\nwhen his mother was a girl, about eighty-four years ago, as he guessed\nit to have been; but in his written version he has omitted one thing\nwhich he told me at Glynllifon, namely, that, when the servant girl\nwent out to the fairies to spin, an enormous amount of spinning used to\nbe done. I mention this as it reminds me of the tales of other nations,\nwhere the girl who cannot spin straw into gold is assisted by a fairy,\non certain conditions which are afterwards found very inconvenient. It\nmay be guessed that in the case of Eilian the conditions involved her\nbecoming a fairy's wife, and that she kept to them. Lastly, I should\nlike the arch\u00e6ologists of Carnarvonshire to direct their attention to\nBryn y Pibion; for they might be expected to come across the remains\nthere of a barrow or of a fort.\n\n\n\n\nIII.\n\nThe same summer I happened to meet the Rev. Robert Hughes, of Uwchlaw'r\nFfynnon, near Llanaelhaearn, a village on which Tre'r Ceiri, or the\nTown of the Keiri, looks down in its primitive grimness from the\ntop of one of the three heights of the Eifl, or Rivals as English\npeople call them. The district is remarkable for the longevity of its\ninhabitants, and Mr. Hughes counted fifteen farmers in his immediate\nneighbourhood whose average age was eighty-three; and four years\npreviously the average age of eighteen of them was no less than\neighty-five. He himself was, when I met him, seventy-one years of\nage, and he considered that he represented the traditions of more\nthan a century and a half, as he was a boy of twelve when one of his\ngrandfathers died at the age of ninety-two: the age reached by one\nof his grandmothers was all but equal, while his father died only a\nfew years ago, after nearly reaching his ninety-fifth birthday.\n\nStory-telling was kept alive in the parish of Llanaelhaearn by the\ninstitution known there as the pilnos, or peeling night, when the\nneighbours met in one another's houses to spend the long winter\nevenings dressing hemp and carding wool, though I guess that a\npilnos was originally the night when people met to peel rushes for\nrushlights. When they left these merry meetings they were ready, as\nMr. Hughes says, to see anything. In fact, he gives an instance of some\npeople coming from a pilnos across the mountain from Nant Gwrtheyrn\nto Llithfaen, and finding the fairies singing and dancing with all\ntheir might: they were drawn in among them and found themselves left\nalone in the morning on the heather. Indeed, Mr. Hughes has seen the\nfairies himself: it was on the Pwllheli road, as he was returning in\nthe grey of the morning from the house of his fianc\u00e9e when he was\ntwenty-seven. The fairies he saw came along riding on wee horses:\nhis recollection is that he now and then mastered his eyes and\nfound the road quite clear, but the next moment the vision would\nreturn, and he thought he saw the diminutive cavalcade as plainly\nas possible. Similarly, a man of the name of Solomon Evans, when,\nthirty years ago, making his way home late at night through Glynllifon\nPark, found himself followed by quite a crowd of little creatures,\nwhich he described as being of the size of guinea pigs and covered\nwith red and white spots. He was an ignorant man, who knew no better\nthan to believe to the day of his death, some eight or nine years\nago, that they were demons. This is probably a blurred version of\na story concerning Cwn Annwn, 'Hell hounds,' such as the following,\npublished by Mr. O. M. Edwards in his Cymru for 1897, p. 190, from\nMr. J. H. Roberts' essay mentioned above at p. 148:--'Ages ago as\na man who had been engaged on business, not the most creditable in\nthe world, was returning in the depth of night across Cefn Creini,\nand thinking in a downcast frame of mind over what he had been\ndoing, he heard in the distance a low and fear-inspiring bark; then\nanother bark, and another, and then half a dozen and more. Ere long\nhe became aware that he was being pursued by dogs, and that they were\nCwn Annwn. He beheld them coming: he tried to flee, but he felt quite\npowerless and could not escape. Nearer and nearer they came, and he\nsaw the shepherd with them: his face was black and he had horns on\nhis head. They had come round him and stood in a semicircle ready to\nrush upon him, when he had a remarkable deliverance: he remembered\nthat he had in his pocket a small cross, which he showed them. They\nfled in the greatest terror in all directions, and this accounts for\nthe proverb, Mwy na'r cythraul at y groes (Any more than the devil\nto the cross).' That is Mr. Roberts' story; but several allusions\nhave already been made to Cwn Annwn. It would be right probably to\nidentify them in the first instance with the pack with which Arawn,\nking of Annwn, is found hunting by Pwyll, king of Dyfed, when the\nlatter happens to meet him in Glyn Cuch in his own realm. Then in a\npoem in the Black Book of Carmarthen we find Gwyn ab N\u00fbd with a pack\nled by Dormarth, a hound with a red snout which he kept close to the\nground when engaged in the chase; similarly in the story of Iolo ab\nHuw the dogs are treated as belonging to Gwyn. But on the whole the\nlater idea has more usually been, that the devil is the huntsman,\nthat his dogs give chase in the air, that their quarry consists of\nthe souls of the departed, and that their bark forebodes a death,\nsince they watch for the souls of men about to die. This, however,\nmight be objected to as pagan; so I have heard the finishing touch\ngiven to it in the neighbourhood of Ystrad Meurig, by one who, like\nMr. Pughe, explained that it is the souls only of notoriously wicked\nmen and well-known evil livers. With this limitation the pack [81]\nseems in no immediate danger of being regarded as poaching.\n\nTo return to Llanaelhaearn, it is right to say that good spirits too,\nwho attend on good Calvinists, are there believed in. Morris Hughes,\nof Cwm Corryn, was the first Calvinistic Methodist at Llanaelhaearn;\nhe was great-grandfather to Robert Hughes' wife; and he used to be\nfollowed by two pretty little yellow birds. He would call to them,\n'Wryd, Wryd!' and they would come and feed out of his hand, and\nwhen he was dying they came and flapped their wings against his\nwindow. This was testified to by John Thomas, of Moelfre Bach, who\nwas present at the time. Thomas died some twenty-five years ago, at\nthe age of eighty-seven. I have heard this story from other people,\nbut I do not know what to make of it, though I may add that the little\nbirds are believed to have been angels. In Mr. Rees' Welsh Saints,\npp. 305-6, Gwryd is given as the name of a friar who lived about the\nend of the twelfth century, and has been commemorated on November 1;\nand the author adds a note referring to the Cambrian Register for\n1800, vol. iii. p. 221, where it is said that Gwryd relieved the bard\nEinion ab Gwalchmai of some oppression, probably mental, which had\nafflicted him for seven years. Is one to suppose that Gwryd sent two\nangels in the form of little birds to protect the first Llanaelhaearn\nMethodist? The call 'Wryd, Wryd,' would seem to indicate that the\nname was not originally Gwryd, but Wryd, to be identified possibly\nwith the Pictish name Uoret in an inscription at St. Vigean's,\nnear Arbroath, and to be distinguished from the Welsh word gwryd,\n'valour,' and from the Welsh name Gwriad, representing what in its\nGaulish form was Viriatus. We possibly have the name Wryd in Hafod\nWryd, a place in the Machno Valley above Bettws y Coed; otherwise one\nwould have expected Hafod y Gwryd, making colloquially, Hafod Gwryd.\n\nMr. Hughes told me a variety of things about Nant Gwrtheyrn, one of the\nspots where the Vortigern story is localized. The Nant is a sort of a\ncul de sac hollow opening to the sea at the foot of the Eifl. There is\na rock there called Y Farches, and the angle of the sea next to the\nold castle, which seems to be merely a mound, is called Y Llynclyn,\nor 'The Whirlpool'; and this is perhaps an important item in the\nlocalizing of Vortigern's city there. I was informed by Mr. Hughes\nthat the grave of Olfyn is in this Nant, with a razed church close by:\nboth are otherwise quite unknown to me. Coming away from this weird\nspot to the neighbourhood of Celynnog, one finds that the Pennard\nof the Mabinogi of Math is now called Pennarth, and has on it a\nwell-known cromlech. Of course, I did not leave Mr. Hughes without\nasking him about Caer Arianrhod, and I found that he called it Tre'\nGaer Anrheg: he described it as a stony patch in the sea, and it can,\nhe says, be reached on foot when the ebb is at its lowest in spring\nand autumn. The story he had heard about it when he was a boy at school\nwith David Thomas, better known by his bardic name of Dafyd Du Eryri,\nwas the following:--\n\n'Tregaer Anrheg was inhabited by a family of robbers, and among\nother things they killed and robbed a man at Glyn Iwrch, near the\nfurther wall of Glynnllifon Park: this completed the measure of\ntheir lawlessness. There was one woman, however, living with them at\nTregaer Anrheg, who was not related to them, and as she went out one\nevening with her pitcher to fetch water, she heard a voice crying out,\nDos i ben y bryn i wel'd rhyfedod, that is, Go up the hill to see a\nwonder. She obeyed, and as soon as she got to the top of the hill,\nwhereby was meant Dinas Dinlle, she beheld Tregaer Anrheg sinking in\nthe sea.'\n\nAs I have wandered away from the fairies I may add the following\ncurious bit of legend which Mr. Hughes gave me:--'When St. Beuno\nlived at Celynnog, he used to go regularly to preach at Llandwyn on\nthe opposite side of the water, which he always crossed on foot. But\none Sunday he accidentally dropped his book of sermons into the water,\nand when he had failed to recover it a gylfin-hir, or curlew, came\nby, picked it up, and placed it on a stone out of the reach of the\ntide. The saint prayed for the protection and favour of the Creator\nfor the gylfin-hir: it was granted, and so nobody ever knows where\nthat bird makes its nest.'\n\n\n\n\nIV.\n\nOne day in August of the same summer I went to have another look\nat the old inscribed stone at Gesail Gyfarch [82], near Tremadoc,\nand, instead of returning the same way, I walked across to Criccieth\nStation; but on my way I was directed to call at a farm house called\nLlwyn y Mafon Uchaf, where I was to see Mr. Edward Llewelyn, a bachelor\nthen seventy-six years of age. He is a native of the neighbourhood,\nand has always lived in it; moreover, he has now been for some time\nblind. He had heard a good many fairy tales. Among others he mentioned\nJohn Roberts, a slater from the Garn, that is Carn Dolbenmaen, as\nhaving one day, when there was a little mist and a drizzling rain,\nheard a crowd of fairies talking together in great confusion, near\na sheepfold on Llwytmor Mountain; but he was too much afraid to look\nat them. He also told me of a man at Ystum Cegid, a farm not far off,\nhaving married a fairy wife on condition that he was not to touch her\nwith any kind of iron on pain of her leaving him for ever. Then came\nthe usual accident in catching a horse in order to go to a fair at\nCarnarvon, and the immediate disappearance of the wife. At this point\nMr. Llewelyn's sister interposed to the effect that the wife did once\nreturn and address her husband in the rhyme, Os byd anwyd ar fy mab,\n&c.: see pp. 44, 55 above. Then Mr. Llewelyn enumerated several people\nwho are of this family, among others a girl, who is, according to him,\nexactly like the fairies. This made me ask what the fairies are like,\nand he answered that they are small unprepossessing creatures, with\nyellow skin and black hair. Some of the men, however, whom he traced\nto a fairy origin are by no means of this description. The term there\nfor men of fairy descent is Belsiaid, and they live mostly in the\nneighbouring parish of Pennant, where it would never do for me to\ngo and collect fairy tales, as I am told; and Mr. Llewelyn remembers\nthe fighting that used to take place at the fairs at Penmorfa if the\nterm Belsiaid once began to be heard. Mr. Llewelyn was also acquainted\nwith the tale of the midwife that went to a fairy family, and how the\nthieving husband had deprived her of the use of one eye. He also spoke\nof the fairies changing children, and how one of these changelings,\nsupposed to be a baby, expressed himself to the effect that he had\nseen the acorn before the oak, and the egg before the chick, but\nnever anybody who brewed ale in an egg-shell: see p. 62 above. As to\nmodes of getting rid of the changelings, a friend of Mr. Llewelyn's\nmentioned the story that one was once dropped into the Glaslyn river,\nnear Bedgelert. The sort of children the fairies liked were those\nthat were unlike their own; that is, bairns whose hair was white, or\ninclined to yellow, and whose skin was fair. He had a great deal to say\nof a certain Elis Bach of Nant Gwrtheyrn, who used to be considered\na changeling. With the exception of this changing of children the\nfairies seemed to have been on fairly good terms with the inhabitants,\nand to have been in the habit of borrowing from farm houses a padell\nand gradell for baking. The gradell is a sort of round flat iron,\non which the dough is put, and the padell is the patella or pan put\nover it: they are still commonly used for baking in North Wales. Well,\nthe fairies used to borrow these two articles, and by way of payment\nto leave money on the hob at night. All over Lleyn the Tylwyth are\nrepresented as borrowing padell a gradell. They seem to have never\nbeen very strong in household furniture, especially articles made of\niron. Mr. Llewelyn had heard that the reason why people do not see\nfairies nowadays is that they have been exorcised (wedi eu hoffrymu)\nfor hundreds of years to come.\n\nAbout the same time I was advised to try the memory of Miss Jane\nWilliams, who lives at the Graig, Tremadoc: she was then, as I was\ntold, seventy-five, very quick-witted, but by no means communicative\nto idlers. The most important information she had for me was to the\neffect that the Tylwyth Teg had been exorcised away (wedi 'ffrymu)\nand would not be back in our day. When she was about twelve she served\nat the Gelli between Tremadoc and Pont Aberglaslyn. Her master's\nname was Si\u00f4n Ifan, and his wife was a native of the neighbourhood\nof Carnarvon; she had many tales to tell them about the Tylwyth,\nhow they changed children, how they allured men to the fairy rings,\nand how their dupes returned after a time in a wretched state, with\nhardly any flesh on their bones. She heard her relate the tale of\na man who married a fairy, and how she left him; but before going\naway from her husband and children she asked the latter by name which\nthey would like to have, a dirty cow-yard (buches fudur) or a clean\ncow-yard (buches l\u00e2n). Some gave the right answer, a dirty cow-yard,\nbut some said a clean cow-yard: the lot of the latter was poverty,\nfor they were to have no stock of cattle. The same question is asked in\na story recorded by the late Rev. Elias Owen, in his Welsh Folk-lore,\np. 82 [83]: his instance belongs to the neighbourhood of Pentrevoelas,\nin Denbighshire.\n\n\n\n\nV.\n\nWhen I was staying at Pwllheli the same summer, I went out to the\nneighbouring village of Four Crosses, and found a native of the place,\nwho had heard a great many curious things from his mother. His name\nwas Lewis Jones: he was at the time over eighty, and he had formerly\nbeen a saddler. Among other things, his mother often told him that her\ngrandmother had frequently been with the fairies, when the latter was\na child. She lived at Pl\u00e2s Du, and once she happened to be up near Carn\nBentyrch when she saw them. She found them resembling little children,\nand playing in a brook that she had to cross. She was so delighted with\nthem, and stayed so long with them, that a search was made for her,\nwhen she was found in the company of the fairies. Another time, they\nmet her as she was going on an errand across a large bog on a misty\nday, when there was a sort of a drizzle, which one might call either\ndew or rain, as it was not decidedly either, but something between the\ntwo, such as the Welsh would call gwlithlaw, 'dew-rain.' She loitered\nin their company until a search was made for her again. Lewis Jones\nrelated to me the story of the midwife--he pronounced it in Welsh\n'midwaith'--who attended on a fairy. As in the other versions,\nshe lost the sight of one eye in consequence of her discovering\nthe gentleman fairy thieving; but the fair at which this happened\nwas held in this instance at Nefyn. He related also how a farmer at\nPennant had wedded a fairy called Bella. This tale proceeded like the\nother versions, and did not even omit the fighting at Penmorfa: see\npp. 89, 93, 220. He had likewise the tale about the two youths who had\ngone out to fetch some cattle, and came, while returning about dusk,\nacross a party of fairies dancing. The one was drawn into the circle,\nand the other was suspected at length of having murdered him, until,\nat the suggestion of a wizard, he went to the same place at the end\nof a year and a day: then he found him dancing, and managed to get\nhim out. He had been reduced to a mere skeleton, but he inquired at\nonce if the cattle he was driving were far ahead. Jones had heard of\na child changed by the fairies when its mother had placed it in some\nhay while she worked at the harvest. She discovered he was not her\nown by brewing in an egg-shell, as usual. Then she refused to take any\nnotice of him, and she soon found her own baby returned; but the latter\nlooked much the worse for its sojourn in the land of the Tylwyth Teg.\n\nMy informant described to me Elis Bach of Nant Gwrtheyrn, already\nmentioned, p. 221, who died somewhat more than forty years ago. His\nfather was a farmer there, and his children, both boys and girls,\nwere like ordinary folks, excepting Elis, who was deformed, his legs\nbeing so short that his body seemed only a few inches from the ground\nwhen he walked. His voice was also small and squeaky. However, he was\nvery sharp, and could find his way among the rocks pretty well when\nhe went in quest of his father's sheep and goats, of which there used\nto be plenty there formerly. Everybody believed Elis to have been a\nchangeling, and one saying of his is still remembered in that part of\nthe country. When strangers visited Nant Gwrtheyrn, a thing which did\nnot frequently happen, and when his parents asked them to their table,\nand pressed them to eat, he would squeak out drily, Buta 'nynna buta'r\ncwbwl, that is to say, 'Eating that means eating all we have.'\n\nHe told me further that the servant girls used formerly to take care\nto bring a supply of water indoors at the approach of night, that the\nfairies might find plenty in which to bathe their children, for fear\nthat they might use the milk instead, if water was wanting. Moreover,\nwhen they had been baking, they took care to leave the fairies both\npadell and gradell, that they might do their baking in the night. The\nlatter used to pay for this kindness by leaving behind them a cake of\nfairy bread and sometimes money on the hob. I have, however, not been\nable to learn anything about the quality or taste of this fairy food.\n\nHe had also a great deal to say about the making of bonfires about the\nbeginning of winter. A bonfire was always kindled on the farm called\nCromlech on the eve of the Winter Calends or Nos Galan Gaeaf, as it\nis termed in Welsh; and the like were to be seen in abundance towards\nLlithfaen, Carnguwch, and Llanaelhaearn, as well as on the Merioneth\nside of the bay. Besides fuel, each person present used to throw into\nthe fire a small stone, with a mark whereby he should know it again. If\nhe succeeded in finding the stone on the morrow, the year would be a\nlucky one for him, but the contrary if he failed to recover it. Those\nwho assisted at the making of the bonfire watched until the flames were\nout, and then somebody would raise the usual cry, when each ran away\nfor his life, lest he should be found last. This cry, which is a sort\nof equivalent, well known over Carnarvonshire, of the English saying,\n'The devil take the hindmost,' was in the Welsh of that county--\n\n\n            Yr hwch du gwta [84] A gipio'r ola';\n\n\nthat is to say, 'May the black sow without a tail seize the hindmost.'\n\nThe cutty black sow is often alluded to nowadays to frighten children\nin Arfon, and it is clearly the same creature that is described in\nsome parts of North Wales as follows:--\n\n\n        Hwch du gwta                A cutty black sow\n        Ar bob camfa                On every stile,\n        Yn nydu a chardio           Spinning and carding\n        Bob nos G'langaea'.         Every Allhallows' Eve.\n\n\nIn Cardiganshire this is reduced to the words:--\n\n\n        Nos Galan Gaea',            On Allhallows' Eve\n        Bwbach ar bob camfa.        A bogie on every stile.\n\n\nWelsh people speak of only three Calends--Calan-mai, or the first of\nMay; Calan-gaeaf, the Calends of Winter, or Allhallows; and Y Calan,\nor The Calends par excellence, that is to say, the first day of\nJanuary, which last is probably not Celtic but Roman. The other two\nmost certainly are, and it is one of their peculiarities that all\nuncanny spirits and bogies are at liberty the night preceding each\nof them. The Hwch du gwta is at large on Allhallows' Eve, and the\nScottish Gaels have the name 'Samhanach' for any Allhallows' demon,\nformed from the word Samhain, Allhallows. The eve of the first of May\nmay be supposed to have been the same, as may be gathered from the\nstory of Rhiannon's baby and of Teyrnon's colt, both of which were\nstolen by undescribed demons that night--I allude to the Mabinogi of\nPwyll, Prince of Dyfed.\n\n\n\n\nVI.\n\nAt Nefyn, in Lleyn [85], I had some stories about the Tylwyth Teg from\nLowri Hughes, the widow of John Hughes, who lives in a cottage at Pen\nIsa'r Dref, and is over seventy-four years of age. An aunt of hers,\nwho knew a great many tales, had died about six years before my visit,\nat the advanced age of ninety-six. She used to relate to Lowri how the\nTylwyth were in the habit of visiting Singrug, a house now in ruins\non the land of Pen Isa'r Dref, and how they had a habit of borrowing\na padell and gradell for baking: they paid for the loan of them by\ngiving their owners a loaf. Her grandmother, who died not long ago\nat a very advanced age, remembered a time when she was milking in a\ncorner of the land of Carn Bod\u00fcan, and how a little dog came to her\nand received a blow from her that sent it rolling away. Presently,\nshe added, the dog reappeared with a lame man playing on a fiddle;\nbut she gave them no milk. If she had done so, there was no knowing,\nshe said, how much money she might have got. But, as it was, such\nsinging and dancing were indulged in by the Tylwyth around the lame\nfiddler that she ran away as fast as her feet could carry her. Lowri's\nhusband had also seen the Tylwyth at the break of day, near Madrun\nMill, where they seem to have been holding a sort of conversazione;\nbut presently one of them observed that he had heard the voice of the\nhen's husband, and off they went instantly then. The fairies were in\nthe habit also of dancing and singing on the headland across which lie\nthe old earthworks called Dinllaen. When they had played and enjoyed\nthemselves enough, they used to lift a certain bit of sod and descend\nto their own land. My informant had also heard the midwife story,\nand she was aware that the fairies changed people's children; in\nfact, she mentioned to me a farm house not far off where there was a\ndaughter of this origin then, not to mention that she knew all about\nElis Bach. Another woman whom I met near Porth Dinllaen said, that the\nDinllaen fairies were only seen when the weather was a little misty.\n\nAt Nefyn, Mr. John Williams (Alaw Lleyn) got from his mother the\ntale of the midwife. It stated that the latter lost the sight of her\nright eye at Nefyn Fair, owing to the fairy she there recognized,\npricking her eye with a green rush. During my visit to Aberdaron,\nmy wife and I went to the top of Mynyd Anelog, and on the way up\nwe passed a cottage, where a very illiterate woman told us that the\nTylwyth Teg formerly frequented the mountain when there was mist on\nit; that they changed people's children if they were left alone on the\nground; and that the way to get the right child back was to leave the\nfairy urchin without being touched or fed. She also said that, after\nbaking, people left the gradell for the fairies to do their baking:\nthey would then leave a cake behind them as pay. As for the fairies\njust now, they have been exorcised (wedi'ffrymu) for some length of\ntime. Mrs. Williams, of Pwll Defaid, told me that the rock opposite,\ncalled Clip y Gylfinir, on Bodwydog mountain, a part of Mynyd y Rhiw,\nwas the resort of the Tylwyth Teg, and that they revelled there\nwhen it was covered with mist; she added that a neighbouring farm,\ncalled Bodermud Isa', was well known at one time as a place where\nthe fairies came to do their baking. But the most remarkable tale I\nhad in the neighbourhood of Aberdaron was from Evan Williams, a smith\nwho lives at Yr Ard Las, on Rhos Hirwaen. If I remember rightly, he\nis a native of Llaniestin, and what he told me relates to a farmer's\nwife who lived at the Nant, in that parish. Now this old lady was\nfrequently visited by a fairy who used to borrow padell a gradell from\nher. These she used to get, and she returned them with a loaf borne\non her head in acknowledgement. But one day she came to ask for the\nloan of her troell bach, or wheel for spinning flax. When handing her\nthis, the farmer's wife wished to know her name, as she came so often,\nbut she refused to tell her. However, she was watched at her spinning,\nand overheard singing to the whir of the wheel:--\n\n\n        Bychan a wyda' hi           Little did she know\n        Mai S\u00ecli go Dwt             That Silly go Dwt\n        Yw f'enw i.                 Is my name.\n\n\nThis explains to some extent the s\u00ecli ffrit sung by a Corwrion fairy\nwhen she came out of the lake to spin: see p. 64 above. At first I\nhad in vain tried to make out the meaning of that bit of legend; but\nsince then I have also found the Llaniestin rhyme a little varied\nat Llanberis: it was picked up there, I do not exactly know how,\nby my little girls this summer. The words as they have them run thus:--\n\n\n                        Bychan a wyda' hi\n                        Mai Trwtyn-Tratyn\n                        Yw f'enw i.\n\n\nHere, instead of S\u00ecli go Dwt or S\u00ecli ffrit, the name is Trwtyn-Tratyn,\nand these doggerels at once remind one of the tale of Rumpelstiltzchen;\nbut it is clear that we have as yet only the merest fragments of the\nwhole, though I have been thus far unable to get any more. So one\ncannot quite say how far it resembled the tale of Rumpelstiltzchen:\nthere is certainly one difference, which is at once patent, namely,\nthat while the German Rumpelstiltzchen was a male fairy, our Welsh S\u00ecli\nffrit or S\u00ecli go Dwt is of the other sex. Probably, in the Llaniestin\ntale, the borrowing for baking had nothing to do with the spinning,\nfor all fairies in Lleyn borrow a padell and a gradell, while they\ndo not usually appear to spin. Then may we suppose that the spinning\nwas in this instance done for the farmer's wife on conditions which\nshe was able to evade by discovering the fairy helper's name? At\nany rate one expects a story representing the farmer's wife laid\nunder obligation by the fairy, and not the reverse. I shall have an\nopportunity of returning to this kind of tale in chapter x.\n\nThe smith told me another short tale, about a farmer who lived not long\nago at Deunant, close to Aberdaron. The latter used, as is the wont\nof country people, to go out a few steps in front of his house every\nnight to ---- before going to bed; but once on a time, while he was\nstanding there, a stranger stood by him and spoke to him, saying that\nhe had no idea how he and his family were annoyed by him. The farmer\nasked how that could be, to which the stranger replied that his house\nwas just below where they stood, and if he would only stand on his\nfoot he would see that what he said was true. The farmer complying,\nput his foot on the other's foot, and then he could clearly see that\nall the slops from his house went down the chimney of the other's\nhouse, which stood far below in a street he had never seen before. The\nfairy then advised him to have his door in the other side of his house,\nand that if he did so his cattle would never suffer from the clwy' byr\n[86]. The result was that the farmer obeyed, and had his door walled\nup and another made in the other side of the house: ever after he was\na most prosperous man, and nobody was so successful as he in rearing\nstock in all that part of the country. To place the whole thing beyond\nthe possibility of doubt, Evan Williams assured me that he had often\nseen the farmer's house with the front door in the back. I mention this\nstrange story in order to compare it, in the matter of standing on the\nfairy's foot, with that of standing with one's foot just inside a fairy\nring. Compare also standing on a particular sod in Dyfed in order to\nbehold the delectable realm of Rhys Dwfn's Children: see p. 158 above.\n\n\n\n\nVII.\n\nSoon afterwards I went to the neighbourhood of Aber Soch and Llanengan,\nwhere I was lucky enough to find Professor Owen of St. David's College,\nLampeter, since appointed Bishop of St. David's, on a visit to his\nnative place. He took me round to those of the inhabitants who were\nthought most likely to have tales to tell; but I found nothing about\nthe fairies except the usual story of their borrowing padell a gradell,\nand of their changing children. However, one version I heard of the\nprocess of recovering the stolen child differs from all others known\nto me: it was given us by Margaret Edwards, of Pentre Bach, whose\nage was then eighty-seven. It was to the effect that the mother,\nwho had been given a fairy infant, was to place it on the floor,\nand that all those present in the house should throw a piece of iron\nat it. This she thought was done with the view of convincing the\nTylwyth Teg of the intention to kill the changeling, and in order to\ninduce them to bring the right child back. The plan was, we are told,\nalways successful, and it illustrates, to my thinking, the supposed\nefficacy of iron against the fairies.\n\nOn the way to Aber Soch I passed by an old-fashioned house which\nhas all the appearance of having once been a place of considerable\nimportance; and on being told that its name is Castellmarch, I began\nthinking of March ab Meirchion mentioned in the Triads. He, I had long\nbeen convinced, ought to be the Welsh reflex of Labhraidh Lorc, or the\nIrish king with horse's ears; and the corresponding Greek character\nof Midas with ass's ears is so well known that I need not dwell on\nit. So I undertook to question various people in the neighbourhood\nabout the meaning of the name of Castellmarch. Most of them analysed\nit into Castell y March, the 'Castle of the Steed,' and explained\nthat the knight of the shire or some other respectable obscurity kept\nhis horses there. This treatment of the word is not very decidedly\ncountenanced by the pronunciation, which makes the name into one word\nstrongly accented on the middle syllable. It was further related to me\nhow Castellmarch was once upon a time inhabited by a very wicked and\ncruel man, one of whose servants, after being very unkindly treated\nby him, ran away and went on board a man-of-war. Some time afterwards\nthe man-of-war happened to be in Cardigan Bay, and the runaway servant\npersuaded the captain of the vessel to come and anchor in the Tudwal\nRoads. Furthermore he induced him to shell his old master's mansion;\nand the story is regarded as proved by the old bullets now and then\nfound at Castellmarch. It has since been suggested to me that the\nbullets are evidence of an attack on the place during the Civil War,\nwhich is not improbable. But having got so far as to find that there\nwas a wicked, cruel man associated with Castellmarch, I thought I\nshould at once hear the item of tradition which I was fishing for;\nbut not so: it was not to be wormed out in a hurry. However, after\ntiring a very old blacksmith, whose memory was far gone, with my\nquestions, and after he had in his turn tired me with answers of the\nkind I have already described, I ventured to put it to him at last\nwhether he had never heard some very silly tale about the lord of\nCastellmarch, to the effect that he was not quite like other men. He\nat once admitted that he had heard it said that he had horse's ears,\nbut that he would never have thought of repeating such nonsense to\nme. This is not a bad instance of the difficulty which one has in\neliciting this sort of tradition from the people. It is true that, as\nfar as regards Castellmarch, nothing, as it happens, would have been\nlost if I had failed at Aber Soch, for I got the same information later\nat Sarn Fyllteyrn; not to mention that after coming back to my books,\nand once more turning over the leaves of the Brython, I was delighted\nto find the tale there. It occurs at p. 431 of the volume for 1860. It\nis given with several other interesting bits of antiquity, and at the\nend the editor has put 'Edward Llwyd, 1693'; so I suppose the whole\ncomes from letters emanating from the great Lhwyd, for so, or rather\nLhuyd, he preferred to write his name. It is to the following effect:--\n\nOne of Arthur's warriors, whose name was March (or Parch) Amheirchion\n[87], was lord of Castellmarch in Lleyn. This man had horse's ears\n(resembling Midas), and lest anybody should know it, he used to kill\nevery man he sought to shave his beard, for fear lest he should not\nbe able to keep the secret; and on the spot where he was wont to\nbury the bodies there grew reeds, one of which somebody cut to make\na pipe. The pipe would give no other sound than 'March Amheirchion\nhas horse's ears.' When the warrior heard this, he would probably\nhave killed the innocent man on that account, if he had not himself\nfailed to make the pipe produce any other sound. But after hearing\nwhere the reed had grown, he made no further effort to conceal either\nthe murders or his ears. This story of Edward Llwyd's clearly goes\nback to a time when some kind of a pipe was the favourite musical\ninstrument in North Wales, and not the harp.\n\n\n\n\nVIII.\n\nSome time ago I was favoured with a short but interesting tale\nby Mr. Evan Lloyd Jones, of Dinorwig, near Llanberis. Mr. Lloyd\nJones, I may here mention, published not long ago, in Llais y Wlad\n(Bangor, North Wales), and in the Drych (Utica, United States of\nNorth America), a series of articles entitled Llen y Werin yn Sir\nGaernarfon, or the Folklore of Carnarvonshire. I happened to see\nit at a friend's house, and I found at once that the writer was\npassionately fond of antiquities, and in the habit of making use\nof the frequent opportunities he has in the Dinorwig quarries for\ngathering information as to what used to be believed by the people of\nArfon and Anglesey. The tale about to be given relates to a lake called\nMarchlyn Mawr, or the Great Horse-lake, for there are two lakes called\nMarchlyn: they lie near one another, between the Fronllwyd, in the\nparish of Llandegai, and the Elidyr, in the parishes of Llandeiniolen\nand Llanberis. Mr. Lloyd Jones shall tell his tale in his own words:--\n\nAmgylchynir y Marchlyn Mawr gan greigiau erchyll yr olwg arnynt;\na dywed tradodiad darfod i un o feibion y Rhiwen [88] unwaith tra yn\ncynorthwyo dafad oed wedi syrthio i'r creigiau i dod odiyno, darganfod\nogof anferth: aeth i fewn idi a gwelod ei bod yn llawn o drysorau ac\narfau gwerthfawr; ond gan ei bod yn dechreu tywyllu, a dringo i fynu yn\norchwyl anhawd hyd yn nod yn ngoleu'r dyd, aeth adref y noswaith honno,\na boreu drannoeth ar lasiad y dyd cychwynnod eilwaith i'r ogof, ac heb\nlawer o drafferth daeth o hyd idi: aeth i fewn, a dechreuod edrych o'i\namgylch ar y trysorau oed yno:--Ar ganol yr ogof yr oed bwrd enfawr\no aur pur, ac ar y bwrd goron o aur a pherlau: deallod yn y fan mai\ncoron a thrysorau Arthur oedynt--nesaod at y bwrd, a phan oed yn estyn\nei law i gymeryd gafael yn y goron dychrynwyd ef gan drwst erchyll,\ntrwst megys mil o daranau yn ymrwygo uwch ei ben ac aeth yr holl le\ncan dywylled a'r afagdu. Ceisiod ymbalfalu odiyno gynted ag y gallai;\npan lwydod i gyrraed i ganol y creigiau taflod ei olwg ar y llyn,\nyr hwn oed wedi ei gynhyrfu drwydo a'i donnau brigwynion yn cael eu\nlluchio trwy daned ysgythrog y creigiau hyd y man yr oed efe yn sefyll\narno; ond tra yr oed yn parhau i syllu ar ganol y llyn gwelai gwrwgl\na thair o'r benywod prydferthaf y disgynod llygad unrhyw dyn arnynt\nerioed yndo yn cael ei rwyfo yn brysur tuag at enau yr ogof. Ond\noch! yr oed golwg ofnadwy yr hwn oed yn rhwyfo yn digon i beri iasau\no fraw trwy y dyn cryfaf. Gallod y llanc rywfod dianc adref ond ni\nfu iechyd yn ei gyfansodiad ar ol hynny, a bydai hyd yn nod crybwyll\nenw y Marchlyn yn ei glywedigaeth yn digon i'w yrru yn wallgof.\n\n'The Marchlyn Mawr is surrounded by rocks terrible to look at, and\ntradition relates how one of the sons of the farmer of Rhiwen, once\non a time, when helping a sheep that had fallen among the rocks to\nget away, discovered a tremendous cave there; he entered, and saw\nthat it was full of treasures and arms of great value; but, as it\nwas beginning to grow dark, and as clambering back was a difficult\nmatter even in the light of day, he went home that evening, and next\nmorning with the grey dawn he set out again for the cave, when he\nfound it without much trouble. He entered, and began to look about\nhim at the treasures that were there. In the centre of the cave stood\na huge table of pure gold, and on the table lay a crown of gold and\npearls. He understood at once that they were the crown and treasures\nof Arthur. He approached the table, and as he stretched forth his\nhand to take hold of the crown he was frightened by an awful noise,\nthe noise, as it were, of a thousand thunders bursting over his head,\nand the whole place became as dark as Tartarus. He tried to grope\nand feel his way out as fast as he could. When he had succeeded in\nreaching to the middle of the rocks, he cast his eye on the lake,\nwhich had been stirred all through, while its white-crested waves\ndashed through the jagged teeth of the rocks up to the spot on which\nhe stood. But as he continued looking at the middle of the lake he\nbeheld a coracle containing three women, the fairest that the eye of\nman ever fell on. They were being quickly rowed to the mouth of the\ncave; but the dread aspect of him who rowed was enough to send thrills\nof horror through the strongest of men. The youth was able somehow to\nescape home, but no health remained in his constitution after that,\nand even the mere mention of the Marchlyn in his hearing used to be\nenough to make him insane.'\n\nMr. Lloyd Jones appends to the tale a note to the following\neffect:--There is a small eminence on the shore of the Marchlyn\nMawr, in the parish of Llandegai, called Bryn Cwrwgl, or the 'Hill\nof the Coracle'; and Ogof y Marchlyn, or the 'Marchlyn Cave,' is a\nname familiar enough to everybody in these neighbourhoods. There\nwere some--unless he ought to say that there still are some--who\nbelieved that there was abundance of treasure in the cave. Several\nyoung men from the quarries, both of the Cae and of Dinorwig, have\nbeen in the midst of the Marchlyn rocks, searching for the cave,\nand they succeeded in making their way into a cave. They came away,\nhowever, without the treasures. One old man, Robert Edwards (Iorwerth\nSardis), used to tell him that he and several others had brought\nropes from the quarry to go into the cave, but that they found no\ntreasure. So far, I have given the substance of Mr. Jones' words,\nto which I would add the following statement, which I have from a\nnative of Dinorwig:--About seventy years ago, when the gentry were\nrobbing the poor of these districts of their houses and of the lands\nwhich the latter had enclosed out of the commons, an old woman called\nSi\u00e2n William of the Garned was obliged to flee from her house with\nher baby--the latter was known later in life as the Rev. Robert Ellis,\nof Ysgoldy--in her arms. It was in one of the Marchlyn caves that she\nfound refuge for a day and night. Another kind of tale connected with\nthe Marchlyn Mawr is recorded in the Powys-land Club's Collections,\nHist. and Arch., vol. xv. p. 137, by the Rev. Elias Owen, to the effect\nthat 'a man who was fishing in the lake found himself enveloped in the\nclouds that had descended from the hills to the water. A sudden gust\nof wind cleared a road through the mist that hung over the lake, and\nrevealed to his sight a man busily engaged in thatching a stack. The\nman, or rather the fairy, stood on a ladder. The stack and ladder\nrested on the surface of the lake.'\n\n\n\n\nIX.\n\nMr. E. S. Roberts, of Llandysilio School, near Llangollen (p. 138),\nhas sent me more bits of legends about the fairies. He heard the\nfollowing from Mr. Thomas Parry, of Tan y Coed Farm, who had heard\nit from his father, the late Evan Parry, and the latter from Thomas\nMorris, of Eglwyseg, who related it to him more than once:--Thomas\nMorris happened to be returning home from Llangollen very late on one\nSaturday night in the middle of the summer, and by the time he reached\nnear home the day had dawned, when he saw a number of the Tylwyth\nTeg with a dog walking about hither and thither on the declivity of\nthe Eglwyseg Rocks, which hung threateningly overhead. When he had\nlooked at them for some minutes, he directed his steps towards them;\nbut as they saw him approaching they hid themselves, as he thought,\nbehind a large stone. On reaching the spot, he found under the stone\na hole by which they had made their way into their subterranean\nhome. So ends the tale as related to Mr. Roberts. It is remarkable\nas representing the fairies looking rather like poachers; but there\nare not wanting others which speak of their possessing horses and\ngreyhounds, as all gentlemen were supposed to.\n\nOne of Mr. Roberts' tales is in point: he had it from Mr. Hugh\nFrancis [89], of Holyhead House, Ruthin, and the latter heard it\nfrom Robert Roberts, of Amlwch, who has now been dead about thirty\nyears:--About 105 years ago there lived in the parish of Llandyfrydog,\nnear Llannerch y Med, in Anglesey, a man named Ifan Gruffyd, whose cow\nhappened to disappear one day. Ifan Gruffyd was greatly distressed,\nand he and his daughter walked up and down the whole neighbourhood\nin search of her. As they were coming back in the evening from their\nunsuccessful quest, they crossed the field called after the Dyfrydog\nthief, Cae Lleidr Dyfrydog, where they saw a great number of little\nmen on ponies quickly galloping in a ring. They both drew nigh to\nlook on; but Ifan Gruffyd's daughter, in her eagerness to behold the\nlittle knights more closely, got unawares within the circle in which\ntheir ponies galloped, and did not return to her father. The latter\nnow forgot all about the loss of the cow, and spent some hours in\nsearching for his daughter; but at last he had to go home without her,\nin the deepest sadness. A few days afterwards he went to Mynadwyn to\nconsult John Roberts, who was a magician of no mean reputation. That\n'wise man' told Ifan Gruffyd to be no longer sad, since he could get\nhis daughter back at the very hour of the night of the anniversary of\nthe time when he lost her. He would, in fact, then see her riding round\nin the company of the Tylwyth Teg whom he had seen on that memorable\nnight. The father was to go there accompanied by four stalwart men,\nwho were to aid him in the rescue of his daughter. He was to tie a\nstrong rope round his waist, and by means of this his friends were to\npull him out of the circle when he entered to seize his daughter. He\nwent to the spot, and in due time he beheld his daughter riding round\nin great state. In he rushed and snatched her, and, thanks to his\nfriends, he got her out of the fairy ring before the little men had\ntime to think of it. The first thing Ifan's daughter asked him was,\nif he had found the cow, for she had not the slightest reckoning of\nthe time she had spent with the fairies.\n\nWhilst I am about it, I may as well go through Mr. Roberts'\ncontributions. The next is also a tale related to him by Mr. Hugh\nFrancis, and, like the last, it comes from Anglesey. Mr. Francis'\ngreat-grandfather was called Robert Francis, and he had a mill at\nAberffraw about 100 years ago; and the substance of the following tale\nwas often repeated in the hearing of Mr. Roberts' informant by his\nfather and his grandfather:--In winter Robert Francis used to remain\nvery late at work drying corn in his kiln. As it was needful to keep\na steady fire going, he used to go backwards and forwards from the\nhouse, looking after it not unfrequently until it was two o'clock\nin the morning. Once on a time he happened to leave a cauldron full\nof water on the floor of the kiln, and great was his astonishment on\nreturning to find two little people washing themselves in the water. He\nabstained from entering to disturb them, and went back to the house to\ntell his wife of it. 'Oh,' said she, 'they are fairies.' He presently\nwent back to the kiln and found that they were gone. He fancied they\nwere man and wife. However, they had left the place very clean, and\nto crown all, he found a sum of money left by them to pay him, as he\nsupposed, for the water and the use of the kiln. The ensuing night many\nmore fairies came to the kiln, for the visitors of the previous night\nhad brought their children with them; and the miller found them busy\nbathing them and looking very comfortable in the warm room where they\nwere. The pay that night was also more considerable than the night\nbefore, as the visitors were more numerous. After this the miller\nnever failed to leave a vessel full of water in the kiln every night,\nand the fairies availed themselves of it for years, until, in fact,\nthey took offence at the miller telling the neighbours of the presents\nof money which had been left him in the kiln. Thenceforth no fairies\nwere known to frequent the kiln belonging to the Aberffraw mill.\n\nThe last tale communicated to me by Mr. Roberts is the following,\nwhich he elicited from Margaret Davies, his housekeeper, by reading\nto her some of the fairy legends published in the Cymmrodor a short\nwhile ago--probably the Corwrion series, one of which bears great\nresemblance to hers. Mrs. Davies, who is sixty-one years of age, says\nthat when her parents, Edward and Ann Williams, lived at Rhoslydan,\nnear Bryneglwys, in Yale, some seventy-five years ago, the servant\nman happened one day in the spring to be ploughing in a field near\nthe house. As he was turning his team back at one end of the field,\nhe heard some one calling out from the other end, Y mae eisieu hoelen\nyn y p\u00ecl, or 'The peel wants a nail'; for p\u00ecl is the English peel,\na name given to a sort of shovel provided with a long handle for\nplacing loaves in an oven, and for getting them out again. When at\nlength the ploughman had reached the end of the field whence he guessed\nthe call to have proceeded, he there saw a small peel, together with\na hammer and a nail, under the hedge. He saw that the peel required\na nail to keep it together, and as everything necessary for mending\nit were there ready to hand, he did as it had been suggested. Then\nhe followed at the plough-tail until he came round again to the same\nplace, and there he this time saw a cake placed for him on the spot\nwhere he had previously found the peel and the other things, which\nhad now disappeared. When the servant related this to his master, he\ntold him at once that it was one of the Tylwyth Teg of that locality\nthat had called out to him. With this should be compared the story\nof the man who mended a fairy's plough vice: see p. 64 above.\n\n\n\n\nX.\n\nEarly this year I had occasion to visit the well-known Hengwrt Library\nat Peniarth, and during my stay there Mr. Wynne very kindly took\nme to see such of the Llanegryn people as were most likely to have\nsomewhat to say about the fairies. Many of the inhabitants had heard\nof them, but they had no long tales about them. One man, however,\ntold me of a William Pritchard, of Pentre Bach, near Llwyngwryl,\nwho died at sixty, over eighty years ago, and of a Rhys Williams, the\nclerk of Llangelynin, how they were going home late at night from a\ncock-fight at Llanegryn, and how they came across the fairies singing\nand dancing on a plot of ground known as Gwastad Meirionyd, 'the Plain\nof Merioneth,' on the way from Llwyngwryl to Llanegryn. It consists,\nI am told by Mr. Robert Roberts of Llanegryn, of no more than some\ntwenty square yards, outside which one has a good view of Cardigan\nBay and the heights of Merioneth and Carnarvonshire, while from the\nGwastad itself neither sea nor mountain is visible. On this spot,\nthen, the belated cockfighters were surrounded by the fairies. They\nswore at the fairies and took to their heels, but they were pursued\nas far as Clawd Du. Also I was told that Elen Egryn, the authoress,\nsome sixty years ago, of some poetry called Telyn Egryn, had also seen\nfairies in her youth, when she used to go up the hills to look after\nher father's sheep. This happened near a little brook, from which she\ncould see the sea when the sun was in the act of sinking in it; then\nmany fairies would come out dancing and singing, and also crossing\nand re-crossing the little brook. It was on the side of Rhiwfelen,\nand she thought the little folks came out of the brook somewhere. She\nhad been scolded for talking about the fairies, but she firmly believed\nin them to the end of her life. This was told me by Mr. W. Williams,\nthe tailor, who is about sixty years of age; and also by Mr. Rowlands,\nthe ex-bailiff of Peniarth, who is about seventy-five. I was moreover\nmuch interested to discover at Llanegryn a scrap of kelpie story,\nwhich runs as follows, concerning Llyn Gwernen, situated close to\nthe old road between Dolgelley and Llanegryn:--\n\nAs a man from the village of Llanegryn was returning in the dusk of\nthe evening across the mountain from Dolgelley, he heard, when hard\nby Llyn Gwernen, a voice crying out from the water:--\n\n\n            Daeth yr awr ond ni daeth y dyn!\n\n            The hour is come but the man is not!\n\n\nAs the villager went on his way a little distance, what should meet\nhim but a man of insane appearance, and with nothing on but his\nshirt. As he saw the man making full pelt for the waters of the lake,\nhe rushed at him to prevent him from proceeding any further. But as\nto the sequel there is some doubt: one version makes the villager\nconduct the man back about a mile from the lake to a farm house\ncalled Dyffrydan, which was on the former's way home. Others seem to\nthink that the man in his shirt rushed irresistibly into the lake,\nand this I have no doubt comes nearer the end of the story in its\noriginal form. Lately I have heard a part of a similar story about\nLlyn Cynnwch, which has already been mentioned, p. 135, above. My\ninformant is Miss Lucy Griffith, of Glynmalden, near Dolgelley,\na lady deeply interested in Welsh folklore and Welsh antiquities\ngenerally. She obtained her information from a Dolgelley ostler,\nformerly engaged at the Ship Hotel, to the effect that on Gwyl Galan,\n'the eve of New Year's Day,' a person is seen walking backwards and\nforwards on the strand of Cynnwch Lake, crying out:--\n\n\n            Mae'r awr wedi dyfod a'r dyn heb dyfod!\n\n            The hour is come while the man is not!\n\n\nThe ostler stated also that lights are to be seen on Cader Idris\non the eve of New Year's Day, whatever that statement may mean. The\ntwo lake stories seem to suggest that the Lake Spirit was entitled\nto a victim once a year, whether the sacrifice was regarded as the\nresult of accident or design. By way of comparison, one may mention\nthe notion, not yet extinct, that certain rivers in various parts\nof the kingdom regularly claim so many victims: for some instances\nat random see an article by Mr. J. M. Mackinlay, on Traces of River\nWorship in Scottish Folklore, a paper published in the Proceedings\nof the Society of Antiquaries of Scotland, 1895-6, pp. 69-76. Take\nfor example the following rhyme:--\n\n\n                Blood-thirsty Dee\n                Each year needs three;\n\n                But bonny Don\n                She needs none.\n\n\nOr this:--\n\n\n                Tweed said to Till\n                'What gars ye rin sae still?'\n                Till said to Tweed\n                'Though ye rin wi' speed\n\n                An' I rin slaw,\n                Yet whar ye droon ae man\n                I droon twa.'\n\n\n\n\nXI.\n\nIn the neighbourhood of Ystrad Meurig, between the Teifi and the\nYstwyth basins, almost everybody can relate tales about the fairies,\nbut not much that is out of the ordinary run of such stories\nelsewhere. Among others, Isaac Davies, the smith living at Ystrad\nMeurig, had heard a great deal about fairies, and he said that there\nwere rings belonging to them in certain fields at Tan y Graig and\nat Llanafan. Where the rings were, there the fairies danced until\nthe ground became red and bare of grass. The fairies were, according\nto him, all women, and they dressed like foreigners, in short cotton\ndresses reaching only to the knee-joint. This description is somewhat\npeculiar, as the idea prevalent in the country around is, that the\nfairy ladies had very long trains, and that they were very elegantly\ndressed; so that it is a common saying there, that girls who dress\nin a better or more showy fashion than ordinary look like Tylwyth\nTeg, and the smith confessed he had often heard that said. Similarly\nHowells, pp. 113, 121-2, finds the dresses of the fairies dancing\non the Freni, in the north-east of Pembrokeshire, represented as\nindescribably elegant and varying in colour; and those who, in the\nmonth of May, used to frequent the prehistoric encampment of Moedin\n[90] or Moydin--from which a whole cantred takes its name in Central\nCardiganshire--as fond of appearing in green; while blue petticoats\nare said, he says, to have prevailed in the fairy dances in North Wales\n[91].\n\nAnother showed me a spot on the other side of the Teifi, where the\nTylwyth Teg had a favourite spot for dancing; and at the neighbouring\nvillage of Swyd Ffynnon, another meadow was pointed out as their resort\non the farm of D\u00f4l Bydy\u00eb. According to one account I had there, the\nfairies dressed themselves in very long clothes, and when they danced\nthey took hold of one another's enormous trains. Besides the usual\ntales concerning men enticed into the ring and retained in Faery for a\nyear and a day, and concerning the fairies' dread of pren cerdingen or\nmountain ash, I had the midwife tale in two or three forms, differing\nmore or less from the versions current in North Wales. For the most\ncomplete of them I am indebted to one of the young men studying at\nthe Grammar School, Mr. D. Lledrodian Davies. It used to be related\nby an old woman who died some thirty years ago at the advanced age of\nabout 100. She was P\u00e0li, mother of old Rachel Evans, who died seven or\neight years ago, when she was about eighty. The latter was a curious\ncharacter, who sometimes sang maswed, or rhymes of doubtful propriety,\nand used to take the children of the village to see fairy rings. She\nalso used to see the Tylwyth, and had many tales to tell of them. But\nher mother, P\u00e0li, had actually been called to attend at the confinement\nof one of them. The beginning of the tale is not very explicit; but,\nanyhow, P\u00e0li one evening found herself face to face with the fairy\nlady she was to attend upon. She appeared to be the wife of one of\nthe princes of the country. She was held in great esteem, and lived\nin a very grand palace. Everything there had been arranged in the\nmost beautiful and charming fashion. The wife was in her bed with\nnothing about her but white, and she fared sumptuously. In due time,\nwhen the baby had been born, the midwife had all the care connected\nwith dressing it and serving its mother. P\u00e0li could see or hear nobody\nin the whole place but the mother and the baby. She had no idea who\nattended on them, or who prepared all the things they required, for\nit was all done noiselessly and secretly. The mother was a charming\nperson, of an excellent temper and easy to manage. Morning and evening,\nas she finished washing the baby, P\u00e0li had a certain ointment given\nher to rub the baby with. She was charged not to touch it but with\nher hand, and especially not to put any near her eyes. This was\ncarried out for some time, but one day, as she was dressing the baby,\nher eyes happened to itch, and she rubbed them with her hand. Then\nat once she saw a great many wonders she had not before perceived;\nand the whole place assumed a new aspect to her. She said nothing,\nand in the course of the day she saw a great deal more. Among other\nthings, she observed small men and small women going in and out,\nfollowing a variety of occupations. But their movements were as light\nas the morning breeze. To move about was no trouble to them, and they\nbrought things into the room with the greatest quickness. They prepared\ndainty food for the confined lady with the utmost order and skill,\nand the air of kindness and affection with which they served her\nwas truly remarkable. In the evening, as she was dressing the baby,\nthe midwife said to the lady, 'You have had a great many visitors\nto-day.' To this she replied, 'How do you know that? Have you been\nputting the ointment to your eyes?' Thereupon she jumped out of bed,\nand blew into her eyes, saying, 'Now you will see no more.' She never\nafterwards could see the fairies, however much she tried, nor was\nthe ointment entrusted to her after that day. According, however,\nto another version which I heard, she was told, on being found out,\nnot to apply the ointment to her eyes any more. She promised she\nwould not; but the narrator thought she broke that promise, as she\ncontinued to see the fairies as long as she lived.\n\nMr. D. Ll. Davies has also a version like the North Wales ones. He\nobtained it from a woman of seventy-eight at Bronnant, near\nAberystwyth, who had heard it from one of her ancestors. According to\nher, the midwife went to the fair called Ffair Rhos, which was held\nbetween Ystrad Meurig and Pont Rhyd Fendigaid [92]. There she saw a\ngreat many of the Tylwyth very busily engaged, and among others the\nlady she had been attending upon. That being so, she walked up to\nher and saluted her. The fairy lady angrily asked how she saw her,\nand spat in her face, which had the result of putting an end for ever\nto her power of seeing her or anybody of her race.\n\nThe same aged woman at Bronnant has communicated to Mr. D. Ll. Davies\nanother tale which differs from all those of the same kind that I\nhappen to know of. On a certain day in spring the farmer living at ----\n(Mr. Davies does not remember the name of the farm) lost his calves;\nand the servant man and the servant girl went out to look for them,\nbut as they were both crossing a marshy flat, the man suddenly missed\nthe girl. He looked for her, and as he could not see her he concluded\nthat she was playing a trick on him. However, after much shouting and\nsearching about the place, he began to think that she must have found\nher way home, so he turned back and asked if the girl had come in,\nwhen he found to his surprise that nobody had seen her come back. The\nnews of her being lost caused great excitement in the country around,\nsince many suspected that he had for some reason put an end to her\nlife: some accounted for it in this way, and some in another. But as\nnothing could be found out about her, the servant man was taken into\ncustody on the charge of having murdered her. He protested with all\nhis heart, and no evidence could be produced that he had killed the\ngirl. Now, as some had an idea that she had gone to the fairies, it\nwas resolved to send to 'the wise man' (Y dyn hysbys). This was done,\nand he found out that the missing girl was with the fairies: the trial\nwas delayed, and he gave the servant man directions of the usual kind\nas to how to get her out. She was watched at the end of the period of\ntwelve months and a day coming round in the dance in the fairy ring\nat the place where she was lost, and she was successfully drawn out\nof the ring; but the servant man had to be there in the same clothes\nas he had on when she left him. As soon as she was released and saw\nthe servant she asked about the calves. On the way home she told her\nmaster, the servant man, and the others, that she would stay with them\nuntil her master should strike her with iron, but they went their way\nhome in great joy at having found her. One day, however, when her\nmaster was about to start from home, and whilst he was getting the\nhorse and cart ready, he asked the girl to assist him, which she did\nwillingly; but as he was bridling the horse, the bit touched the girl\nand she disappeared instantly, and was never seen from that day forth.\n\nI cannot explain this story, unless we regard it as made up of pieces\nof two different stories which had originally nothing to do with\none another; consistency, however, is not to be expected in such\nmatters. Mr. D. Ll. Davies has kindly given me two more tales like\nthe first part of the one I have last summarized, also one in which\nthe missing person, a little boy sent by his mother to fetch some barm\nfor her, comes home of himself after being away a year or more playing\nwith the Tylwyth Teg, whom he found to be very nice, pleasant people;\nthey had been exceedingly kind to him, and they even allowed him to\ntake the bottle with the barm home at the last. This was somewhere\nbetween Swyd Ffynnon and Carmarthen.\n\nMr. D. Ll. Davies finds, what I have not found anywhere else,\nthat it was a common idea among the old people in Cardiganshire,\nthat once you came across one of the fairies you could not easily be\nrid of him; since the fairies were little beings of a very devoted\nnature. Once a man had become friendly with one of them, the latter\nwould be present with him almost everywhere he went, until it became\na burden to him. However, popular belief did not adopt this item of\nfaith without another to neutralize it if necessary: so if one was\ndetermined to get rid of the fairy companion, one had in the last\nresort only to throw a piece of rusty iron at him to be quit of him\nfor ever. Nothing was a greater insult to the fairies. But though they\nwere not difficult to make friends of, they never forgave those who\noffended them: forgiveness was not an element in their nature. The\ngeneral account my informant gives of the outward appearance of the\nfairies as he finds them in the popular belief, is that they were\na small handsome race, and that their women dressed gorgeously in\nwhite, while the men were content with garments of a dark grey colour,\nusually including knee-breeches. As might be expected, the descriptions\ndiffer very much in different neighbourhoods, and even in different\ntales from the same neighbourhood: this will surprise no one. It was\nin the night they came out, generally near water, to sing and dance,\nand also to steal whatever took their fancy; for thieving was always\nnatural to them; but no one ever complained of it, as it was supposed\nto bring good luck.\n\n\n\n\nXII.\n\nMr. Richard L. Davies, teacher of the Board School at Ystalyfera, in\nthe Taw\u00eb Valley, has been kind enough to write out for me a budget of\nideas about the Cwm Taw\u00eb Fairies, as retailed to him by a native who\ntook great delight in the traditions of his neighbourhood, John Davies\n(Sh\u00f4n o'r Bont), who was a storekeeper at Ystalyfera. He died an old\nman about three years ago. I give his stories as transmitted to me by\nMr. Davies, but the reader will find them a little hazy now and then,\nas when the fairies are made into ordinary conjurer's devils:--\n\nRhywbeth rhyfed yw yr hen Gastell yna (gan olygu Craig Ynys Geinon):\nyr wyf yn cofio yr amser pan y bydai yn dychryn gan bobl fyned yn\nagos ato--yn enwedig y nos: yr oed yn dra pheryglus rhag i dyn gael\nei gymeryd at Bendith eu Mamau. Fe dywedir fod wmred o'r rheiny yna,\ner na wn i pa le y maent yn cadw. 'R oed yr hen bobl yn arferol o\ndweyd fod pwll yn rhywle bron canol y Castell, tua llathen o led,\nac yn bump neu chwech llath o dyfnder, a charreg tua thair tynnell o\nbwysau ar ei wyneb e', a bod fford dan y daear gandynt o'r pwll hynny\nbob cam i ogof Tan yr Ogof, bron blaen y Cwm (yn agos i balas Adelina\nPatti, sef Castell Craig y Nos), mai yno y maent yn treulio eu hamser\nyn y dyd, ac yn dyfod lawr yma i chwareu eu pranciau yn y nos.\n\nMae gandynt, mede nhw, ysgol aur, o un neu dwy ar hugain o ffyn; ar\nhyd honno y maent yn tramwy i fyny ac i lawr. Mae gandynt air bach,\na dim ond i'r blaenaf ar yr ysgol dywedyd y gair hynny, mae y garreg\nyn codi o honi ei hunan; a gair arall, ond i'r olaf wrth fyned i lawr\nei dywedyd, mae yn cauad ar eu hol.\n\nDywedir i was un o'r ffermyd cyfagos wrth chwilio am wningod yn y\ngraig, dygwyd dyweyd y gair pan ar bwys y garreg, idi agor, ac ido\nyntau fyned i lawr yr ysgol, ond am na wydai y gair i gauad ar ei ol,\nfe adnabu y Tylwyth wrth y draught yn diffod y canwyllau fod rhywbeth o\nle, daethant am ei draws, cymerasant ef atynt, a bu gyda hwynt yn byw\nac yn bod am saith mlyned; ymhen y saith mlyned fe diangod a llon'd\nei het o guineas gando.\n\nYr oed efe erbyn hyn wedi dysgu y dau air, ac yn gwybod llawer am eu\ncwtches nhw. Fe dywedod hwn y cwbl wrth ffarmwr o'r gymdogaeth, fe\naeth hwnnw drachefn i lawr, ac yr oed rhai yn dyweyd ido dyfod a thri\nllon'd cawnen halen o guineas, hanner guineas, a darnau saith-a-chwech,\nodiyno yr un diwrnod. Ond fe aeth yn rhy drachwantus, ac fel llawer\nun trachwantus o'i flaen, bu ei bechod yn angeu ido.\n\nCanys fe aeth i lawr y bedwared waith yngwyll y nos, ond fe daeth y\nTylwyth am ei ben, ac ni welwyd byth o hono. Dywedir fod ei bedwar\ncwarter e' yn hongian mewn ystafell o dan y Castell, ond pwy fu yno\ni'w gwel'd nhw, wn i dim.\n\nMae yn wir ei wala i'r ffarmwr crybwylledig fyned ar goll, ac na\nchlybuwyd byth am dano, ac mor wir a hynny i'w dylwyth dyfod yn abl\niawn, bron ar unwaith yr amser hynny. A chi wydoch gystal a finnau,\neu bod nhw yn dywedyd fod ffyrd tandaearol gandynt i ogofau Ystrad\nFellte, yn agos i Benderyn. A dyna y Garn Goch ar y Drum (Onllwyn yn\nawr) maent yn dweyd fod canoed o dynelli o aur yn st\u00f4r gandynt yno;\na chi glywsoch am y stori am un o'r Gethings yn myned yno i glodio yn\ny Garn, ac ido gael ei drawsffurfio gan y Tylwyth i olwyn o d\u00e2n, ac ido\nfethu cael llonyd gandynt, hyd nes ido eu danfon i wneyd rhaff o sand!\n\nFe fu gynt hen fenyw yn byw mewn ty bychan gerllaw i Ynys Geinon,\nac yr oed hi yn gallu rheibo, mede nhw, ac yr oed s\u00f4n ei bod yn\ntreulio saith diwrnod, saith awr, a saith mynyd gyda y Tylwyth Teg\nbob blwydyn yn Ogof y Castell. Yr oed y gred yn lled gyffredinol\nei bod hi yn cael hyn a hyn o aur am bob plentyn a allai hi ladrata\nidynt hwy, a dodi un o'i hen grithod hwy yn ei le: 'doed hwnnw byth\nyn cynydu. Y fford y bydai hi yn gwneyd oed myned i'r ty dan yr esgus\no ofyn cardod, a hen glogyn llwyd-du mawr ar ei chefn, ac o dan hwn,\nun o blant Bendith y Mamau; a bob amser os bydai plentyn bach gwraig\ny ty yn y cawell, hi gymerai y swyd o siglo y cawell, a dim ond i'r\nfam droi ei chefn am fynyd neu dwy, hi daflai y lledrith i'r cawell,\nai ymaith a'r plentyn yn gyntaf byth y gallai hi. Fe fu plentyn gan dyn\no'r gym'dogaeth yn lingran am flynydau heb gynydu dim, a barn pawb oed\nmai wedi cael ei newid gan yr hen wraig yr oed; fe aeth tad y plentyn\ni fygwth y gwr hysbys arni: fe daeth yr hen wraig yno am saith niwrnod\ni esgus bado y bachgen bach mewn dwfr oer, a'r seithfed bore cyn ei\nbod yn oleu, hi a gas genad i fyned ag ef dan rhyw bistyll, mede hi,\nond medai'r cym'dogion, myned ag ef i newid a wnaeth. Ond, beth bynag,\nfe wellod y plentyn fel cyw yr wyd o hynny i maes. Ond gorfu i fam e'\nwneyd cystal a llw wrth yr hen wraig, y gwnai ei dwco mewn dwfr oer\nbob bore dros gwarter blwydyn, ac yn mhen y chwarter hynny 'doed dim\nbrafach plentyn yn y Cwm.\n\n'That is a wonderful thing, that old castle there, he would say,\npointing to the Ynys Geinon Rock. I remember a time when people would\nbe terrified to go near it, especially at night. There was considerable\ndanger that one might be taken to Bendith eu Mamau. It is said that\nthere are a great many of them there, though I know not where they\nabide. The old folks used to say that there was a pit somewhere about\nthe middle of the Castle, about a yard wide and some five or six yards\ndeep, with a stone about three tons in weight over the mouth of it,\nand that they had a passage underground from that pit all the way\nto the cave of Tan yr Ogof, near the top of the Cwm, that is, near\nAdelina Patti's residence at Craig y Nos Castle: there, it was said,\nthey spent their time during the day, while they came down here to\nplay their tricks at night. They have, they say, a gold ladder of\none or two and twenty rungs, and it is along that they pass up and\ndown. They have a little word; and it suffices if the foremost on\nthe ladder merely utters that word, for the stone to rise of itself;\nwhile there is another word, which it suffices the hindmost in going\ndown to utter so that the stone shuts behind him. It is said that a\nservant from one of the neighbouring farms, when looking for rabbits\nin the rock, happened to say the word as he stood near the stone,\nthat it opened for him, and that he went down the ladder; but that\nbecause he was ignorant of the word to make it shut behind him,\nthe fairies discovered by the draught putting out their candles that\nthere was something wrong. So they found him out and took him with\nthem. He remained living with them for seven years, but at the end\nof the seven years he escaped with his hat full of guineas. He had by\nthis time learnt the two words, and got to know a good deal about the\nhiding places of their treasures. He told everything to a farmer in\nthe neighbourhood, so the latter likewise went down, and some used to\nsay that he brought thence thrice the fill of a salt-chest of guineas,\nhalf-guineas, and seven-and-sixpenny pieces in one day. But he got too\ngreedy, and like many a greedy one before him his crime proved his\ndeath; for he went down the fourth time in the dusk of the evening,\nwhen the fairies came upon him, and he was never seen any more. It\nis said that his four quarters hang in a room under the Castle;\nbut who has been there to see them I know not. It is true enough\nthat the above-mentioned farmer got lost, and that nothing was heard\nrespecting him; and it is equally true that his family became very\nwell to do almost at once at that time. You know as well as I do that\nthey say, that the fairies have underground passages to the caves of\nYstradfellte, near Penderyn. There is the Garn Goch also on the Drum\n(now called Onllwyn); they say there are hundreds of tons of gold\naccumulated by them there, and you have heard the story about one of\nthe Gethings going thither to dig in the Garn, and how he [sic] was\ntransformed by the fairies into a wheel of fire, and that he could\nget no quiet from them until he sent them to manufacture a rope of\nsand!'--A more intelligible version of this story has been given at\npp. 19-20 above.\n\n'There was formerly an old woman living in a small house near Ynys\nGeinon; and she had the power of bewitching, people used to say:\nthere was a rumour that she spent seven days, seven hours, and seven\nminutes with the fairies every year in the cave at the Castle. It\nwas a pretty general belief that she got such and such a quantity of\ngold for every child she could steal for them, and that she put one\nof those old urchins of theirs in its place: the latter never grew\nat all. The way she used to do it was to enter people's houses with\nthe excuse of asking for alms, having a large dark-grey old cloak on\nher back, and the cloak concealed one of the children of Bendith eu\nMamau. Whenever she found the little child of the good woman of the\nhouse in its cradle, she would take upon herself to rock the cradle,\nso that if the mother only turned her back for a minute or two, she\nwould throw the sham child into the cradle and hurry away as fast\nas she could with the baby. A man in the neighbourhood had a child\nlingering for years without growing at all, and it was the opinion of\nall that it had been changed by the old woman. The father at length\nthreatened to call in the aid of \"the wise man,\" when the old woman\ncame there for seven days, pretending that it was in order to bathe the\nlittle boy in cold water; and on the seventh day she got permission\nto take him, before it was light, under a certain spout of water: so\nshe said, but the neighbours said it was to change him. However that\nwas, the boy from that time forth got on as fast as a gosling. But\nthe mother had all but to take an oath to the old woman, that she\nwould duck him in cold water every morning for three months, and by\nthe end of that time there was no finer infant in the Cwm.'\n\nMr. Davies has given me some account also of the annual pilgrimage\nto the Fan mountains to see the Lake Lady: these are his words on\nthe subject--they recall pp. 15-16 above:--\n\n'It has been the yearly custom (for generations, as far as I can find)\nfor young as well as many people further advanced in years to make a\ngeneral excursion in carts, gambos, and all kinds of vehicles, to Llyn\ny Fan, in order to see the water nymph (who appeared on one day only,\nviz. the first Sunday in August). This nymph was said to have the\nlower part of her body resembling that of a dolphin, while the upper\npart was that of a beautiful lady: this anomalous form appeared on\nthe first Sunday in August (if the lake should be without a ripple)\nand combed her tresses on the reflecting surface of the lake. The\nyearly peregrination to the abode of the Fan deity is still kept up in\nthis valley--Cwmtaw\u00eb; but not to the extent that it used to formerly.'\n\n\n\n\nXIII.\n\nMr. Craigfryn Hughes has sent me another tale about the fairies: it\nhas to do with the parish of Llanfabon, near the eastern border of\nGlamorganshire. Many traditions cluster round the church of Llanfabon,\nbeginning with its supposed building by Saint Mabon, but which of the\nMabons of Welsh legend he was, is not very certain. Not very far is\na place called Pant y Dawns, or the Dance Hollow, in allusion to the\nvisits paid to the spot by Bendith y Mamau, as the fairies are there\ncalled. In the same neighbourhood stand also the ruins of Castell\ny Nos, or the Castle of the Night [93], which tradition represents\nas uninhabitable because it had been built of stones from Llanfabon\nChurch, and on account of the ghosts that used to haunt it. However,\none small portion of it was usually tenanted formerly by a 'wise man'\nor by a witch. In fact, the whole country round Llanfabon Church\nteemed with fairies, ghosts, and all kinds of uncanny creatures:--\n\nMewn amaethdy ag syd yn aros yn y plwyf a elwir y Berth Gron,\ntrigiannai gwedw ieuanc a'i phlentyn bychan. Yr oed wedi colli ei gwr,\na'i hunig gysur yn ei hamdifadrwyd a'i hunigrwyd oed Gruff, ei mab. Yr\noed ef yr amser hwn odeutu tair blwyd oed, ac yn blentyn braf ar ei\noedran. Yr oed y plwyf, ar y pryd, yn orlawn o 'Fendith y Mamau'; ac,\nar amser llawn lloer, bydent yn cadw dynion yn effro a'u cerdoriaeth\nhyd doriad gwawr. Rhai hynod ar gyfrif eu hagrwch oed 'Bendith'\nLlanfabon, ac yr un mor hynod ar gyfrif eu castiau. Lladrata plant\no'r cawellau yn absenoldeb eu mamau, a denu dynion trwy eu swyno\na cherdoriaeth i ryw gors afiach a diffaith, a ymdangosai yn gryn\ndifyrrwch idynt. Nid rhyfed fod y mamau beunyd ar eu gwyliadwriaeth\nrhag ofn colli eu plant. Yr oed y wedw o dan sylw yn hynod ofalus am\nei mab, gymaint nes tynnu rhai o'r cymydogion i dywedyd wrthi ei bod\nyn rhy orofalus, ac y bydai i ryw anlwc ordiwes ei mab. Ond ni thalai\nunrhyw sylw i'w dywediadau. Ymdangosai fod ei holl hyfrydwch a'i chysur\nynghyd a'i gobeithion yn cydgyfarfod yn ei mab. Mod bynnag, un diwrnod,\nclywod ryw lais cwynfannus yn codi o gymydogaeth y beudy; a rhag bod\nrhywbeth wedi digwyd i un o'r gwartheg rhedod yn orwyllt tuag yno,\ngan adael y drws heb ei gau, a'i mab bychan yn y ty. Ond pwy a fedr\ndesgrifio ei gofid ar ei gwaith yn dyfod i'r ty wrth weled eisiau ei\nmab? Chwiliod bob man am dano, ond yn aflwydiannus. Odeutu machlud\nhaul, wele lencyn bychan yn gwneuthur ei ymdangosiad o'i blaen, ac\nyn dywedyd, yn groyw, 'Mam!' Edrychod y fam yn fanwl arno, a dywedod\no'r diwed, 'Nid fy mhlentyn i wyt ti!' 'I\u00eb, yn sicr,' atebai y bychan.\n\nNid ymdangosai y fam yn fodlon, na'i bod yn credu mai ei phlentyn hi\nydoed. Yr oed rhywbeth yn sisial yn barhaus wrthi mai nid ei mab hi\nydoed. Ond beth bynnag, bu gyda hi am flwydyn gyfan, ac nid ymdangosai\nei fod yn cynydu dim, tra yr oed Gruff, ei mab hi, yn blentyn cynydfawr\niawn. Yr oed gwr bychan yn myned yn fwy hagr bob dyd hefyd. O'r diwed\npenderfynod fyned at y 'dyn hysbys,' er cael rhyw wybodaeth a goleuni\nar y mater. Yr oed yn digwyd bod ar y pryd yn trigfannu yn Nghastell y\nNos, wr ag oed yn hynod ar gyfrif ei ymwybydiaeth drwyadl o 'gyfrinion\ny fall.' Ar ol idi osod ei hachos ger ei fron, ac yntau ei holi,\nsylwod, 'Crimbil ydyw, ac y mae dy blentyn di gyd a'r hen Fendith\nyn rhywle; ond i ti dilyn fy nghyfarwydiadau i yn ffydlon a manwl,\nfe adferir dy blentyn i ti yn fuan. Yn awr, odeutu canol dyd y foru,\ntor wy yn y canol, a thafl un hanner ymaith odiwrthyt, a chadw y\nllall yn dy law, a dechreu gymysg ei gynwysiad yn ol a blaen. Cofia\nfod y gwr bychan gerllaw yn gwneuthur sylw o'r hyn ag a fydi yn ei\nwneuthur. Ond cofia di a pheidio galw ei sylw--rhaid ennill ei sylw\nat y weithred heb ei alw: ac odid fawr na ofynna i ti beth fydi yn\nei wneuthur. A dywed wrtho mai cymysg pastai'r fedel yr wyt. A rho\nwybod i mi beth fyd ei ateb.'\n\nDychwelod y wraig, a thrannoeth dilynod gyfarwydyd y 'dyn cynnil'\ni'r llythyren. Yr oed y gwr bychan yn sefyll yn ei hymyl, ac yn\nsylwi arni yn fanwl. Ym mhen ychydig, gofynnod, 'Mam, beth 'i ch'i\n'neuthur?' 'Cymysg pastai'r fedel, machgen i.' 'O felly. Mi glywais\ngan fy nhad, fe glywod hwnnw gan ei dad, a hwnnw gan ei dad yntau, fod\nmesen cyn derwen, a derwen mewn d\u00e2r [94]; ond ni chlywais i na gweled\nneb yn un man yn cymysg pastai'r fedel mewn masgal wy iar.' Sylwod y\nwraig ei fod yn edrych yn hynod o sarug arni pan yn siarad, ac yr oed\nhynny yn ychwanegu at ei hagrwch, nes ei wneuthur yn wrthun i'r pen.\n\nY prydnawn hwnnw aeth y wraig at y 'dyn cynnil' er ei hysbysu o'r hyn\na lefarwyd gan y c\u00f2r. 'O,' ebai hwnnw, 'un o'r hen frid ydyw!' 'Yn awr,\nbyd y llawn lloer nesaf ym mhen pedwar diwrnod; mae yn rhaid i ti fyned\ni ben y pedair heol syd yn cydgyfarfod wrth ben Rhyd y Gloch; am deudeg\no'r gloch y nos y byd y lleuad yn llawn. Cofia gudio dy hun mewn man\nag y cei lawn olwg ar bennau y croesffyrd, ac os gweli rywbeth a bair\ni ti gynhyrfu, cofia fod yn llonyd, ac ymatal rhag rhodi ffrwyn i'th\ndeimladau, neu fe distrywir y cynllun, ac ni chei dy fab yn ol byth.'\n\nNis gwydai y fam anffodus beth oed i'w deall wrth ystori ryfed y\n'dyn cynnil.' Yr oed mewn cymaint o dywyllwch ag erioed. O'r diwed\ndaeth yr amser i ben; ac ar yr awr apwyntiedig yr oed yn ymgudio yn\nofalus tu cefn i lwyn mawr yn ymyl, o ba le y caffai olwg ar bob peth o\ngylch. Bu am hir amser yno yn gwylio heb dim i'w glywed na'i weled--dim\nond distawrwyd dwfn a phrudglwyfus yr hanner nos yn teyrnasu. O'r diwed\nclywai sain cerdoriaeth yn dynesu ati o hirbell. N\u00eas, n\u00eas yr oed y sain\nfelusber yn dyfod o hyd; a gwrandawai hithai gyda dydordeb arni. Cyn\nhir yr oed yn ei hymyl, a deallod mai gorymdaith o 'Fendith y Mamau'\noedynt yn myned i rywle. Yr oedynt yn gannoed mewn rhif. Tua chanol\nyr orymdaith canfydod olygfa ag a drywanod ei chalon, ac a berod i'w\ngwaed sefyll yn ei rhedwel\u00efau. Yn cerded rhwng pedwar o'r 'Bendith'\nyr oed ei phlentyn bychan anwyl ei hun. Bu bron a llwyr anghofio\nei hun, a llamu tuag ato er ei gipio ymaith odiarnynt trwy drais os\ngallai. Ond pan ar neidio allan o'i hymgudfan i'r diben hwnnw medyliod\nam gynghor y 'dyn cynnil,' sef y bydai i unrhyw gynhyrfiad o'i heido\ndistrywio y cwbl, ac na bydai idi gael ei phlentyn yn ol byth.\n\nAr ol i'r orymdaith dirwyn i'r pen, ac i sain eu cerdoriaeth distewi\nyn y pellder, daeth allan o'i hymgudfan, gan gyfeirio ei chamrau tua\n'i chartref. Os oed yn hiraethol o'r blaen ar ol ei mab, yr oed yn\nllawer mwy erbyn hyn; a'i hadgasrwyd at y c\u00f2r bychan oed yn hawlio\nei fod yn fab idi wedi cynydu yn fawr iawn, waith yr oed yn sicr yn\nawr yn ei medwl mai un o'r hen frid ydoed. Nis gwydai pa fod i'w odef\nam fynud yn hwy yn yr un ty a hi, chwaithach godef ido alw 'mam' arni\nhi. Ond beth bynnag, cafod digon o ras ataliol i ymdwyn yn wedaid at y\ngwr bychan hagr oed gyda hi yn y ty. Drannoeth aeth ar ei hunion at y\n'dyn cynnil' i adrod yr hyn yr oed wedi bod yn llygad dyst o hono y\nnoson gynt, ac i ofyn am gyfarwydyd pellach. Yr oedd y 'gwr cynnil'\nyn ei disgwyl, ac ar ei gwaith yn dyfod i'r ty adnabydod wrthi ei\nbod wedi gweled rhywbeth oed wedi ei chyffroi. Adrodod wrtho yr hyn\nag oed wedi ei ganfod ar ben y croesffyrd; ac wedi ido glywed hynny,\nagorod lyfr mawr ag oed gando, ac wedi hir syllu arno hysbysod hi\n'fod yn angenrheidiol idi cyn cael ei phlentyn yn ol gael i\u00e2r du heb\nun plufyn gwyn nac o un lliw arall arni, a'i llad; ac ar ol ei lladd,\nei gosod o flaen tan coed, pluf a chwbl, er ei phobi. Mor gynted ag\ny buasai yn ei gosod o flaen y tan, idi gau pob twll a mynedfa yn\nyr adeilad ond un, a pheidio a dal sylw manwl ar ol y 'crimbil,' hyd\nnes bydai y i\u00e2r yn digon, a'r pluf i syrthio ymaith oddiarni bob un,\nac yna i edrych ym mha le yr oed ef.\n\nEr mor rhyfed oed cyfarwydyd y 'gwr,' penderfynod ei gynnyg;\na thrannoeth aeth i chwilio ym mhlith y ieir oed yno am un o'r\ndesgrifiad angenrheidiol; ond er ei siomedigaeth method a chael yr\nun. Aeth o'r naill ffermdy i'r llall i chwilio, ond ymdangosai ffawd\nfel yn gwgu arni--waith method a chael yr un. Pan ym mron digaloni\ngan ei haflwydiant daeth ar draws un mewn amaethdy yng nghwr y plwyf a\nphrynod hi yn dioedi. Ar ol dychwelyd adref gosodod y tan mewn trefn,\na lladod yr i\u00e2r, gan ei gosod o flaen y tan disglaer a losgai ar yr\nalch. Pan yn edrych arni yn pobi, anghofiod y 'crimbil' yn hollol,\nac yr oed wedi syrthio i rywfath o brudlewyg, pryd y synnwyd hi gan\nsain cerdoriaeth y tu allan i'r ty, yn debyg i'r hyn a glywod ychydig\nnosweithiau cyn hynny ar ben y croesffyrd. Yr oed y pluf erbyn hyn wedi\nsyrthio ymaith odiar y i\u00e2r, ac erbyn edrych yr oed y 'crimbil' wedi\ndiflannu. Edrychai y fam yn wyllt o'i deutu, ac er ei llawenyd clywai\nlais ei mab colledig yn galw arni y tu allan. Rhedod i'w gyfarfod,\ngan ei gofleidio yn wresog; a phan ofynod ym mha le yr oed wedi bod\ncyhyd, nid oed gando gyfrif yn y byd i'w rodi ond mai yn gwrando ar\nganu hyfryd yr oed wedi bod. Yr oed yn deneu a threuliedig iawn ei\nwed pan adferwyd ef. Dyna ystori 'Y Plentyn Colledig.'\n\n'At a farm house still remaining in the parish of Llanfabon, which\nis called the Berth Gron, there lived once upon a time a young widow\nand her infant child. After losing her husband her only comfort in\nher bereavement and solitary state was young Griff, her son. He was\nabout three years old and a fine child for his age. The parish was\nthen crammed full of Bendith y Mamau, and when the moon was bright\nand full they were wont to keep people awake with their music till\nthe break of day. The fairies of Llanfabon were remarkable on account\nof their ugliness, and they were equally remarkable on account of the\ntricks they played. Stealing children from their cradles during the\nabsence of their mothers, and luring men by means of their music into\nsome pestilential and desolate bog, were things that seemed to afford\nthem considerable amusement. It was no wonder then that mothers used\nto be daily on the watch lest they should lose their children. The\nwidow alluded to was remarkably careful about her son, so much so,\nthat it made some of the neighbours say that she was too anxious about\nhim and that some misfortune would overtake her child. But she paid no\nattention to their words, as all her joy, her comfort, and her hopes\nappeared to meet together in her child. However, one day she heard a\nmoaning voice ascending from near the cow-house, and lest anything had\nhappened to the cattle, she ran there in a fright, leaving the door\nof the house open and her little son in the cradle. Who can describe\nher grief on her coming in and seeing that her son was missing? She\nsearched everywhere for him, but it was in vain. About sunset, behold\na little lad made his appearance before her and said to her quite\ndistinctly, \"Mother.\" She looked minutely at him, and said at last,\n\"Thou art not my child.\" \"I am truly,\" said the little one. But the\nmother did not seem satisfied about it, nor did she believe it was\nher child. Something whispered to her constantly, as it were, that\nit was not her son. However, he remained with her a whole year, but\nhe did not seem to grow at all, whereas Griff, her son, was a very\ngrowing child. Besides, the little fellow was getting uglier every\nday. At last she resolved to go to the \"wise man,\" in order to have\ninformation and light on the matter. There happened then to be living\nat Castell y Nos, \"Castle of the Night,\" a man who was remarkable for\nhis thorough acquaintance with the secrets of the evil one. When she\nhad laid her business before him and he had examined her, he addressed\nthe following remark to her: \"It is a crimbil [95], and thy own child\nis with those old Bendith somewhere or other: if thou wilt follow\nmy directions faithfully and minutely thy child will be restored to\nthee soon. Now, about noon to-morrow cut an egg through the middle;\nthrow the one half away from thee, but keep the other in thy hand, and\nproceed to mix it backwards and forwards. See that the little fellow\nbe present paying attention to what thou art doing, but take care not\nto call his attention to it--his attention must be drawn to it without\ncalling to him--and very probably he will ask what thou wouldst be\ndoing. Thou art to say that it is mixing a pasty for the reapers that\nthou art. Let me know what he will then say.\" The woman returned,\nand on the next day she followed the cunning man's [96] advice to\nthe letter: the little fellow stood by her and watched her minutely;\npresently he asked, \"Mother, what are you doing?\" \"Mixing a pasty for\nthe reapers, my boy.\" \"Oh, that is it. I heard from my father--he had\nheard it from his father and that one from his father--that an acorn\nwas before the oak, and that the oak was in the earth; but I have\nneither heard nor seen anybody mixing the pasty for the reapers in an\negg-shell.\" The woman observed that he looked very cross as he spoke,\nand that it so added to his ugliness that it made him highly repulsive.\n\n'That afternoon the woman went to the cunning man in order to inform\nhim of what the dwarf had said. \"Oh,\" said he, \"he is of that old\nbreed; now the next full moon will be in four days--thou must go where\nthe four roads meet above Rhyd y Gloch [97], at twelve o'clock the\nnight the moon is full. Take care to hide thyself at a spot where\nthou canst see the ends of the cross-roads; and shouldst thou see\nanything that would excite thee take care to be still and to restrain\nthyself from giving way to thy feelings, otherwise the scheme will\nbe frustrated and thou wilt never have thy son back.\" The unfortunate\nmother knew not what to make of the strange story of the cunning man;\nshe was in the dark as much as ever. At last the time came, and by the\nappointed hour she had concealed herself carefully behind a large bush\nclose by, whence she could see everything around. She remained there\na long time watching; but nothing was to be seen or heard, while the\nprofound and melancholy silence of midnight dominated over all. At\nlast she began to hear the sound of music approaching from afar;\nnearer and nearer the sweet sound continued to come, and she listened\nto it with rapt attention. Ere long it was close at hand, and she\nperceived that it was a procession of Bendith y Mamau going somewhere\nor other. They were hundreds in point of number, and about the middle\nof the procession she beheld a sight that pierced her heart and made\nthe blood stop in her veins--walking between four of the Bendith she\nsaw her own dear little child. She nearly forgot herself altogether,\nand was on the point of springing into the midst of them violently to\nsnatch him from them if she could; but when she was on the point of\nleaping out of her hiding place for that purpose, she thought of the\nwarning of the cunning man, that any disturbance on her part would\nfrustrate all, so that she would never get her child back. When the\nprocession had wound itself past, and the sound of the music had died\naway in the distance, she issued from her concealment and directed\nher steps homewards. Full of longing as she was for her son before,\nshe was much more so now; and her disgust at the little dwarf who\nclaimed to be her son had very considerably grown, for she was now\ncertain in her mind that he was one of the old breed. She knew not\nhow to endure him for a moment longer under the same roof with her,\nmuch less his addressing her as \"mother.\" However, she had enough\nrestraining grace to behave becomingly towards the ugly little fellow\nthat was with her in the house. On the morrow she went without delay\nto the \"wise man\" to relate what she had witnessed the previous night,\nand to seek further advice. The cunning man expected her, and as she\nentered he perceived by her looks that she had seen something that had\ndisturbed her. She told him what she had beheld at the cross-roads,\nand when he had heard it he opened a big book which he had; then, after\nhe had long pored over it, he told her, that before she could get her\nchild back, it was necessary for her to find a black hen without a\nsingle white feather, or one of any other colour than black: this she\nwas to place to bake before a wood [98] fire with its feathers and all\nintact. Moreover, as soon as she placed it before the fire, she was to\nclose every hole and passage in the walls except one, and not to look\nvery intently after the crimbil until the hen was done enough and the\nfeathers had fallen off it every one: then she might look where he was.\n\n'Strange as the advice of the wise man sounded, she resolved to try\nit; so she went the next day to search among the hens for one of the\nrequisite description; but to her disappointment she failed to find\none. She then walked from one farm house to another in her search;\nbut fortune appeared to scowl at her, as she seemed to fail in her\nobject. When, however, she was nearly disheartened, she came across\nthe kind of hen she wanted at a farm at the end of the parish. She\nbought it, and after returning home she arranged the fire and killed\nthe hen, which she placed in front of the bright fire burning on\nthe hearth. Whilst watching the hen baking she altogether forgot the\ncrimbil; and she fell into a sort of swoon, when she was astonished\nby the sound of music outside the house, similar to the music she had\nheard a few nights before at the cross-roads. The feathers had by this\ntime fallen off the hen, and when she came to look for the crimbil\nhe had disappeared. The mother cast wild looks about the house, and\nto her joy she heard the voice of her lost son calling to her from\noutside. She ran to meet him, and embraced him fervently. But when\nshe asked him where he had been so long, he had no account in the\nworld to give but that he had been listening to pleasant music. He\nwas very thin and worn in appearance when he was restored. Such is\nthe story of the Lost Child.'\n\nLet me remark as to the urchin's exclamation concerning the cooking\ndone in the egg-shell, that Mr. Hughes, as the result of further\ninquiry, has given me what he considers a more correct version;\nbut it is no less inconsequent, as will be seen:--\n\n\n    Mi glywais gan fy nhad ac yntau gan ei dad, a hwnnw gan ei\n                                                              dad yntau,\n    Fod mesen cyn derwen a'i phlannu mwn d\u00e1r:\n    Ni chlywais yn unman am gymysg y bastai yn masgal wy i\u00e2r.\n\n    I heard from my father and he from his father, and that one from\n                                                             his father,\n    That the acorn exists before the oak and the planting of it in\n                                                             the ground:\n    Never anywhere have I heard of mixing the pasty in the shell of\n                                                            a hen's egg.\n\n\nIn Dewi Glan Ffrydlas' story from the Ogwen Valley, in Carnarvonshire,\np. 62 above, it is not the cooking of a pasty but the brewing of beer\nin an egg-shell. However what is most remarkable is that the egg-shell\nis similarly used in stories from other lands. Mr. Hartland cites one\nfrom Mecklenburg and another from Scandinavia. He also mentions stories\nin which the imp measures his own age by the number of forests which\nhe has seen growing successively on the same soil, the formula being\nof the following kind: 'I have seen the Forest of Ardennes burnt seven\ntimes,' 'Seven times have I seen the wood fall in Less\u00f6 Forest,' or\n'I am so old, I was already in the world before the Kamschtschen Wood\n(in Lithuania) was planted, wherein great trees grew, and that is\nnow laid waste again [99].' From these and the like instances it is\nclear that the Welsh versions here in question are partially blurred,\nas the fairy child's words should have been to the effect that he\nwas old enough to remember the oak when it was yet but an acorn;\nand an instance of this explicit kind is given by Howells--it comes\nfrom Llandrygarn in Anglesey--see p. 139, where his words run thus:\n'I can remember yon oak an acorn, but I never saw in my life people\nbrewing in an egg-shell before.' I may add that I have been recently\nfortunate enough to obtain from Mr. Llywarch Reynolds another kind\nof estimate of the fairy urchin's age. He writes that his mother\nremembers a very old Merthyr woman who used to tell the story of the\negg-shell cookery, but in words differing from all the other versions\nknown to him, thus:--\n\n\n                Wy'n h\u00e9n y dyd hedy,\n                Ag yn byw cyn 'y ngeni:\n                Eri\u00f4d ni welas i ferwi\n                Bwyd i'r fedal mwn cwcwll [100] wy i\u00e2r.\n\n                I call myself old this day,\n                And living before my birth:\n                Never have I seen food boiled\n                For the reapers in an egg-shell.\n\n\nAs to the urchin's statement that he was old and had lived before, it\nis part of a creed of which we may have something to say in a later\nchapter. At this point let it suffice to call attention to the same\nidea in the Book of Taliessin, poem ix:--\n\n\n                Hynaf uyd dyn pan anher\n                A ieu ieu pop amser.\n\n                A man is wont to be oldest when born,\n                And younger and younger all the time.\n\n\n\n\nXIV.\n\nBefore closing this chapter, I wish to touch on the question of the\nlanguage of the fairies, though fairy tales hardly ever raise it,\nas they usually assume the fairies to speak the same language as the\nmortals around them. There is, however, one well-known exception,\nnamely, the story of Eliodorus, already mentioned, p. 117, as recorded\nby Giraldus Cambrensis, who relates how Eliodorus, preferring at the\nage of twelve to play the truant to undergoing a frequent beating\nby his teacher, fasted two days in hiding in the hollow of a river\nbank, and how he was then accosted by two little men who induced\nhim to follow them to a land of sports and other delights. There he\nremained long enough to be able, years later, to give his diocesan,\nthe second Menevian bishop named David [101], a comprehensive account\nof the people and realm of Faery. After Eliodorus had for some time\nvisited and revisited that land of twilight, his mother desired him\nto bring her some of the gold of the fairies. So one day he tried to\nbring away the gold ball with which the fairy king's son used to play;\nbut he was not only unsuccessful, but subjected to indignities also,\nand prevented from evermore finding his way back to fairyland. So he\nhad to go again to school and to the studies which he so detested;\nbut in the course of time he learned enough to become a priest;\nand when, stricken in years, he used to be entreated by Bishop\nDavid to relate this part of his early history, he never could be\ngot to unfold his tale without shedding tears. Among other things\nwhich he said of the fairies' mode of living, he stated that they\nate neither flesh nor fish, but lived for the most part on various\nkinds of milk food cooked after the fashion of stirabout, flavoured\nas it were with saffron [102]. But one of the most curious portions\nof Eliodorus' yarn was that relating to the language of the fairies;\nfor he pretended to have learnt it and to have found it to resemble his\nown Britannica Lingua, 'Brythoneg, or Welsh.' In the words instanced\nGiraldus perceived a similarity to Greek [103], which he accounted for\nby means of the fabulous origin of the Welsh from the Trojans and the\nsupposed sojourn made in Greece by those erring Trojans on their way\nto Britain. Giraldus displays quite a pretty interest in comparative\nphilology, and talks glibly of the Lingua Britannica; but one never\nfeels certain that he knew very much more about it than the author\nof the Germania, the first to refer to it under that name. Tacitus,\nhowever, had the excuse that he lived at a distance and some eleven\ncenturies before the advent of Gerald the Welshman.\n\nGiraldus' words prove, on close examination, to be of no help to us\non the question of language; but on the other hand I have but recently\nbegun looking out for stories bearing on it. It is my impression that\nsuch are not plentiful; but I proceed to subjoin an abstract of a\nphantom funeral tale in point from Yst\u00ean Sioned (Aberystwyth, 1882),\npp. 8-16. Yst\u00ean Sioned, I ought to explain, consists of a number of\nstories collected and edited in Welsh by the Rev. Chancellor Silvan\nEvans, though he has not attached his name to it:--The harvest of 1816\nwas one of the wettest ever known in Wales, and a man and his wife who\nlived on a small farm in one of the largest parishes in the Hundred\nof Moedin (see p. 245 above) in the Demetian part of Cardiganshire\nwent out in the evening of a day which had been comparatively dry\nto make some reaped corn into sheaves, as it had long been down. It\nwas a beautiful night, with the harvest moon shining brightly, and\nthe field in which they worked had the parish road passing along\none of its sides, without a hedge or a ditch to separate it from the\ncorn. When they had been busily at work binding sheaves for half an\nhour or more, they happened to hear the hum of voices, as if of a\ncrowd of people coming along the road leading into the field. They\nstopped a moment, and looking in the direction whence the sounds\ncame, they saw in the light of the moon a number of people coming\ninto sight and advancing in their direction. They bent then again to\ntheir work without thinking much about what they had seen and heard;\nfor they fancied it was some belated people making for the village,\nwhich was about a mile off. But the hum and confused sounds went on\nincreasing, and when the two binders looked up again, they beheld a\nlarge crowd of people almost opposite and not far from them. As they\ncontinued looking on they beheld quite clearly a coffin on a bier\ncarried on the shoulders of men, who were relieved by others in turns,\nas usual in funeral processions in the country. 'Here is a funeral,'\nsaid the binders to one another, forgetting for the moment that it was\nnot usual for funerals to be seen at night. They continued looking\non till the crowd was right opposite them, and some of them did not\nkeep to the road, but walked over the corn alongside of the bulk\nof the procession. The two binders heard the talk and whispering,\nthe noise and hum as if of so many real men and women passing by,\nbut they did not understand a word that was said: not a syllable\ncould they comprehend, not a face could they recognize. They\nkept looking at the procession till it went out of sight on the\nway leading towards the parish church. They saw no more of them,\nand now they began to feel uneasy and went home leaving the corn\nalone as it was; but further on the funeral was met by a tailor at a\npoint in the road where it was narrow and bounded by a fence (clawd)\non either side. The procession filled the road from hedge to hedge,\nand the tailor tried to force his way through it, but such was the\npressure of the throng that he was obliged to get out of their way by\ncrossing the hedge. He also failed to understand a word of the talk\nwhich he heard. In about three weeks after this sham funeral [104],\nthere came a real one down that way from the upper end of the parish.\n\nSuch, in brief, is the story so charmingly told by Silvan Evans,\nwhich he got from the mouths of the farmer and his wife, whom he\nconsidered highly honest and truthful persons, as well as comparatively\nfree from superstition. The last time they talked to him about the\nincident they were very advanced in years, and both died within a\nfew weeks of one another early in the year 1852. Their remains,\nhe adds, lie in the churchyard towards which they had seen the\ntoeli slowly making its way. For toeli is the phonetic spelling in\nYst\u00ean Sioned of the word which is teulu in North Cardiganshire and\nin North Wales, for Old Welsh toulu. The word now means 'family,'\nthough literally it should mean 'house-army' or 'house-troops,'\nand it is practically a synonym for tylwyth, 'family or household,'\nliterally 'house-tribe.' Now the toeli or toulu is such an important\ninstitution in Demetian Cardiganshire and some parts of Dyfed proper,\nthat the word has been confined to the phantom, and for the word\nfamily in its ordinary significations one has there to have recourse\nto the non-dialect form teulu [105]. In North Cardiganshire and North\nWales the toeli is called simply a cladedigaeth, 'burial,' or anglad,\n'funeral'; in the latter also cynhebrwng is a funeral. I may add that\nwhen I was a child in the neighbourhood of Ponterwyd, on the upper\ncourse of the Rheidol, hardly a year used to pass without somebody\nor other meeting a phantom funeral. Sometimes one got entangled in\nthe procession, and ran the risk of being carried off one's feet by\nthe throng. There is, however, one serious difference between our\nphantom funerals and the Demetian toeli, namely, that we recognize\nour neighbours' ghosts as making up the processions, and we have no\ntrouble in understanding their talk. At this point a question of some\ndifficulty presents itself as to the toeli, namely, what family does it\nmean?--is it the family and friends of the departed on his way to the\ngrave, or does it mean the family in the sense of Tylwyth Teg, 'Fair\nFamily,' as applied to the fairies? I am inclined to the latter view,\nbut I prefer thinking that the distinction itself does not penetrate\nvery deeply, seeing that a certain species of the Tylwyth Teg, or\nfairies, may, in point of origin, be regarded as deceased friends and\nancestors of the tylwyth, in the ordinary sense of the word. In fact\nall this kind of rehearsal of events seems to have been once looked\nat as friendly to the men and women whom it concerned. This will be\nseen, for instance, in the Demetian account of the canwyll gorff, or\ncorpse candle, as granted through the intercession of St. David to the\npeople of his special care, as a means of warning each to get ready\nin time for his death; that is to say, to prevent death finding him\nunprepared. It is hard to guess why it was assumed that the canwyll\ngorff was unknown in other parts of Wales. One or two instances in\npoint occur in Owen's Welsh Folklore, pp. 298-301; and I have myself\nheard of them being seen in Anglesey, while they were quite well known\nto members of Mrs. Rhys' mother's family, who lived in the parish\nof Waen Fawr, in the neighbourhood of Carnarvon. Nor does it appear\nthat phantom funerals were at all confined to South Wales. Proof to\nthe contrary is supplied to some extent in Owen's Folklore, p. 301;\nbut there is no doubt that in recent times the belief in them, as\nwell as in the canwyll gorff, has been more general and more vivid\nin South Wales than in North Wales, especially Gwyned.\n\nI have not been fortunate enough to come across anything systematic\nor comprehensive on the origin and meaning of ghostly rehearsals\nlike the Welsh phantom funeral or coffin making. But the subject\nis an interesting one which deserves the attention of our leading\nfolklore philosophers, as does also the cognate one of second sight,\nby which it is widely overlapped.\n\nQuite recently--at the end of 1899 in fact--I received three brief\nstories, for which I am indebted to the further kindness of Alaw Lleyn\n(p. 228), who lives at Bynhadlog near Edern in Lleyn, and two out of\nthe three touch on the question of language. But as the three belong\nto one and the same district, I give the substance of all in English\nas follows:--\n\n(1) There were at a small harbour belonging to Nefyn some houses in\nwhich several families formerly lived; the houses are there still,\nbut nobody lives in them now. There was one family there to which\na little girl belonged: they used to lose her for hours every day;\nso her mother was very angry with her for being so much away. 'I must\nknow,' said she, 'where you go for your play.' The girl answered that\nit was to Pin y Wig, 'The Wig Point,' which meant a place to the west\nof the Nefyn headland: it was there, she said, she played with many\nchildren. 'Whose children?' asked the mother. 'I don't know,' she\nreplied; 'they are very nice children, much nicer than I am.' 'I must\nknow whose children they are,' was the reply; and one day the mother\nwent with her little girl to see the children: it was a distance of\nabout a quarter of a mile to Pin y Wig, and after climbing the slope\nand walking a little along the top they came in sight of the Pin. It\nis from this Pin that the people of Pen yr Allt got water, and it\nis from there they get it still. Now after coming near the Pin the\nlittle girl raised her hands with joy at the sight of the children. 'O\nmother,' said she, 'their father is with them to-day: he is not with\nthem always, it is only sometimes that he is.' The mother asked the\nchild where she saw them. 'There they are, mother, running down to\nthe Pin, with their father sitting down.' 'I see nobody, my child,'\nwas the reply, and great fear came upon the mother: she took hold of\nthe child's hand in terror, and it came to her mind at once that they\nwere the Tylwyth Teg. Never afterwards was the little girl allowed to\ngo to Pin y Wig: the mother had heard that the Tylwyth Teg exchanged\npeople's children.\n\nSuch is the first story, and it is only remarkable, perhaps, for its\nallusion to the father of the fairy children.\n\n(2) There used to be at Edern an old woman who occupied a small\nfarm called Glan y Gors: the same family lives there still. One day\nthis old woman had gone to a fair at Criccieth, whence she returned\nthrough Pwllheli. As she was getting above Gors Geirch, which was then\na turbary and a pretty considerable bog, a noise reached her ears:\nshe stopped and heard the sound of much talking. By-and-by she beheld\na great crowd of men and women coming to meet her. She became afraid\nand stepped across the fence to let them go by. There she remained\na while listening to their chatter, and when she thought that they\nhad gone far enough she returned to the road and began to resume\nher way home. But before she had gone many steps she heard the same\nsort of noise again, and saw again the same sort of crowd coming;\nso she recrossed the fence in great fear, saying to herself, 'Here\nI shall be all night!' She remained there till they also had gone,\nand she wondered what they could be, and whether they were people who\nhad been to visit Plas Madrun--afterwards, on inquiry, she found that\nno such people had been there that day. Now the old woman was near\nenough to the passers-by to hear them talking (clebran) and chattering\n(bregliach), but not a word could she understand of what they uttered:\nit was not Welsh and she did not think that it was English--it is,\nhowever, not supposed that she knew English. She related further that\nthe last crowd shouted all together to the other crowd in advance of\nthem Wi, and that the latter replied Wi Wei or something like that.\n\nThis account Alaw Lleyn has got, he says, from a great-granddaughter\nof the old woman, and she heard it all from her father, Bard Llechog,\nwho always had faith in the fairies, and believed that they will\ncome again to be seen of men and women. For he thought that they had\ntheir periods, a belief which I have come across elsewhere, and more\nespecially in Carnarvonshire [106]. Now what are we to make of such a\nstory? I recollect reading somewhere of a phantom wedding in Scotland,\nbut in Wales we seem to have nothing more closely resembling this\nthan a phantom funeral. Nevertheless what the old woman of Glan y Gors\nthought she saw looks by no means unlike a Welsh wedding marching on\nfoot, especially when, as I have seen done, one party tried--seemingly\nin good earnest--to escape the other and to take the bride away from\nit. Moreover, that the figures making up the two crowds in her story\nare to be regarded as fairies is rendered probable by the next story,\nwhich describes the phantoms therein expressly as little men and\nlittle women.\n\n(3) The small farm of Perth y Celyn in Edern used to be held by an\nold man named Griffith Griffiths. In his best days he stood six foot,\nand he has left behind him a double reputation for bodily strength\nand great piety. My informant can well remember him walking to chapel\nwith the aid of his two sticks. The story goes that one day, when\nhe was in his prime, he set out from Perth y Celyn at two in the\nmorning to walk to Carnarvon to pay his rent: there was no talk in\nthose days of a carriage for anybody. After passing through Nefyn and\nPistyll, he came in due time to Bwlch Trwyn Swncwl [107]: he writes\nthis name also Bwlch Drws Wncwl, with the suggestion that it ought to\nbe Bwlch Drws Encil, and that the place must have been of importance\nin the wars of the ancient Kymry. The high-road, he goes on to say,\nruns through the Bwlch, and as Griffith was entering this gap what\nshould he hear but a great deal of talking. He stopped and listened,\nwhen to his surprise he saw coming towards him, devoid of all fear,\na crowd of little men and little women. They talked aloud, but he could\nnot understand a single word they said: he thought that it was neither\nWelsh nor English. They passed by him on the road, but he moved aside\nto the ditch lest they should knock against him; but no feeling of fear\ncame upon him. The old man believed them to have been the Tylwyth Teg.\n\nIn the story of the Moedin funeral the language of the toeli was\nnot intelligible to the farmer and his wife, or to the tailor, and\nhere in two stories from Lleyn we have it clearly stated that it was\nneither Welsh nor, probably, English. Since the fairies are always\nrepresented as old-fashioned in their ways, it is quite possible\nthat they were once regarded as talking a more ancient language of\nthe country. Which was it? An early version of these legends might\nperhaps have supplied the answer, and told us that it was Gwydelig\nor Goidelic, if not an earlier idiom, to wit that of the Aborigines\nbefore they learnt Goidelic from the Celts of the first wave of Aryan\ninvasion, whether it was in the region of the Eifl or in the Demetian\nhalf of Keredigion. As to the former it is worthy of note that when\nGriffith had reached Bwlch Trwyn Swncwl he was in the outskirts of\nthe Eifl Mountains, on one of whose heights, not very far off, is\nthe extensive prehistoric fortress of Tre'r Ceiri, or the Town of the\nKeiri, a vocable which may be provisionally rendered by 'giants.' In\nany case it dissociates that stronghold from the Brythonic people of\nWales. We shall find, however, that a Goidel, or Pict, buried in a\ncairn on Snowdon, is known as Rhita Gawr, 'Rhita the Giant'; and it is\npossible that in the Keiri of Tre'r Ceiri we have no other race than\nthat of mixed Goidels and Picts whom the encroaching Brythons found\nin possession of the west of our island. Nay, one may say that this\nis rendered probable by the use made of the word ceiri in medieval\nWelsh: thus in some poetry composed by a certain Dafyd Offeiriad,\nand copied by Thomas Williams of Trefriw, we have a line alluding to\nBritain in the words:--\n\n\n                Coron ynys y Ce\u00fbri [108].\n\n                The Crown of the Giants' Island.\n\n\nHere Ynys y Ce\u00fbri inevitably recalls the fact that Britain is called\nYnys y Kedyrn, or Island of the Mighty, in the Mabinogion, and also,\nin effect, in the story of Kulhwch and Olwen. But such stories as\nthese, which enabled Geoffrey to say, i. 16, when he introduced his\nbanal brood of Trojans, that up to that time Britain had only been\ninhabited by a few giants, are the legends, as will be pointed out\nlater, of the Brythonicized Goidels of Wales. So one may infer that\ntheir ancestors had given this country the name of the Island of the\nMighty, unless it should prove more accurate to suppose them to have\nsomehow derived the term from the Aborigines.\n\nThis last surmise is countenanced by the fact that in the Kulhwch\nstory, the British Isles as a group are called Islands of the\nMighty. The words are Teir ynys y kedyrn ae their rac ynys; that is,\nthe Three Islands of the Mighty and their Three outpost Islands. That\nis not all, for in the same story the designation is varied thus:\nTeir ynys prydein ae their rac ynys [109], or Prydain's Three Islands\nand Prydain's Three outpost Islands; and the substantial antiquity of\nthe designation 'the Islands of Prydain,' is proved by its virtual\nidentity with that used by ancient Greek authors like Ptolemy, who\ncalls both Britain and Ireland a n\u00easos Pretanik\u00ea, where Pretanic and\nPrydain are closely related words. Now our Prydain had in medieval\nWelsh the two forms Prydein and Prydyn. But some time or other there\nset in a tendency to desynonymize them, so as to make Ynys Prydein,\n'the Picts' Island,' mean Great Britain, and Prydyn mean the Pictland\nof the North. But just as Cymry meant the plural Welshmen and the\nsingular Wales, so Prydyn meant Picts [110] and the country of the\nPicts. Now the plural Prydyn has its etymological Goidelic equivalent\nin the vocable Cruithni, which is well known to have meant the Picts\nor the descendants of the Picti of Roman historians. Further, this\nlast name cannot be severed from that of the Pictones [111] in Gaul,\nand it is usually supposed to have referred to their habit of tattooing\nthemselves. At all events this agrees with the apparent meaning of the\nnames Prydyn and Cruithni, from pryd and cruth, the words in Welsh and\nIrish respectively for form or shape, the designation being supposed\nto refer to the forms or pictures of various animals punctured on the\nskins of the Picts. So much as to the practical identity of the terms\nPrydyn, Cruithni, and the Greeks' Pretanic; but how could Cedyrn and\nPrydein correspond in the terms Ynys y Kedyrn and Ynys Prydein? This\none is enabled to understand by means of ce\u00fbri or ceiri as a middle\nterm. Now cadarn means strong or valiant, and makes the plural cedyrn;\nbut there is another Welsh word cadr [112] which has also the meaning\nof valiant or powerful, and may have yielded some such a medieval form\nas ceidyr in the plural. Now this cadr is proved by its cognates [113]\nnot to have always had the meaning of valiant or strong: its original\nsignification was more nearly 'fine, beautiful, or beautified.' Thus\nwhat seems to have happened is, that cadarn, 'strong, powerful,\nmighty,' influenced the meaning of cadr, 'beautiful,' and eventually\nusurped its place in the name of the island, which from being Ynys\ny Ceidyr became Ynys y Cedyrn. But the former meant the 'Island of\nthe fine or beautiful men,' which was closely enough the meaning\nalso of the words Prydain, Cruithni, and Picts, as names of a people\nwho delighted to beautify their persons by tattooing their skins and\nmaking themselves distingu\u00e9 in that savage fashion. That is not all,\nfor on examination it turns out that the word ceiri, which has been\ntreated up to this point as meaning giants, is but a double, so to\nsay, of the word cadr in the plural, both as to etymology and original\nmeaning of beautiful. It is a word in constant use in Carnarvonshire,\nwhere it is ironically applied to pretentious men fond of showing\nthemselves off, especially in the matter of clothes. 'D ydi nhw\n'n geiri! 'Aren't they swells!' Dyna i ch'i gawr! 'There's a fine\nfellow for you!' and so also with the feminine cawres. Of course the\ncawr of standard Welsh is familiar enough in the sense of giant to\nCarnarvonshire people, so the meaning can be best ascertained in the\ncase of the plural ceiri, which they hardly ever meet with in print;\nand, so far as I have been able to ascertain, by ceiri they mean--in an\nironical sense it is true--fine fellows, with reference not to great\nstature or strength but to their get-up. Thus one arrives at the true\ninterpretation of the name Tre'r Ceiri as the Town of the Prydyn or\nCruithni; that is to say, the Town of the Picts or the Aborigines, who\nshowed themselves off decorated with pictures. So far also from Ynys\ny Ceiri being an echo of Ynys y Cedyrn, it turns out to be really the\nmore original of the two. Such names, when they are closely examined,\nare apt to prove old beyond all hastily formed expectation.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nMANX FOLKLORE\n\n\nBe it remembrid that one Manaman Mack Clere, a paynim, was the first\ninhabitour of the ysle of Man, who by his Necromancy kept the same,\nthat when he was assaylid or invaded he wold rayse such mystes by land\nand sea that no man might well fynde owte the ysland, and he would make\none of his men seeme to be in nombre a hundred.--The Landsdowne MSS.\n\n\nThe following paper exhausts no part of the subject: it simply\nembodies the substance of my notes of conversations which I have\nhad with Manx men and Manx women, whose names, together with such\nother particulars as I could get, are in my possession. I have mostly\navoided reading up the subject in printed books; but those who wish to\nsee it exhaustively treated may be directed to Mr. Arthur W. Moore's\nbook on The Folklore of the Isle of Man, to which may now be added\nMr. C. Roeder's Contributions to the Folklore of the Isle of Man in\nthe Lioar Manninagh for 1897, pp. 129-91.\n\nFor the student of folklore the Isle of Man is very fairly stocked\nwith inhabitants of the imaginary order. She has her fairies and her\ngiants, her mermen and brownies, her kelpies and water-bulls.\n\nThe water-bull or tarroo ushtey, as he is called in Manx, is a creature\nabout which I have not been able to learn much, but he is described\nas a sort of bull disporting himself about the pools and swamps. For\ninstance, I was told at the village of Andreas, in the flat country\nforming the northern end of the island, and known as the Ayre, that\nthere used to be a tarroo ushtey between Andreas and the sea to the\nwest: it was before the ground had been drained as it is now. And an\noctogenarian captain at Peel related to me how he had once when a boy\nheard a tarroo ushtey: the bellowings of the brute made the ground\ntremble, but otherwise the captain was unable to give me any very\nintelligible description. This bull is by no means of the same breed as\nthe bull that comes out of the lakes of Wales to mix with the farmers'\ncattle, for there the result used to be great fertility among the\nstock, and an overflow of milk and dairy produce, but in the Isle of\nMan the tarroo ushtey only begets monsters and strangely formed beasts.\n\nThe kelpie, or, rather, what I take to be a kelpie, was called by my\ninformants a glashtyn; and Kelly, in his Manx Dictionary, describes\nthe object meant as 'a goblin, an imaginary animal which rises out of\nthe water.' One or two of my informants confused the glashtyn with\nthe Manx brownie. On the other hand, one of them was very definite\nin his belief that it had nothing human about it, but was a sort of\ngrey colt, frequenting the banks of lakes at night, and never seen\nexcept at night.\n\nMermen and mermaids disport themselves on the coasts of Man, but\nI have to confess that I have made no careful inquiry into what is\nrelated about them; and my information about the giants of the island\nis equally scanty. To confess the truth, I do not recollect hearing\nof more than one giant, but that was a giant: I have seen the marks\nof his huge hands impressed on the top of two massive monoliths. They\nstand in a field at Balla Keeill Pherick, on the way down from the\nSloc to Colby. I was told there were originally five of these stones\nstanding in a circle, all of them marked in the same way by the same\ngiant as he hurled them down there from where he stood, miles away on\nthe top of the mountain called Cronk yn Irree Laa. Here I may mention\nthat the Manx word for a giant is foawr, in which a vowel-flanked\nm has been spirited away, as shown by the modern Irish spelling,\nfomhor. This, in the plural in old Irish, appears as the name of\nthe Fomori, so well known in Irish legend, which, however, does\nnot always represent them as giants, but rather as monsters. I have\nbeen in the habit of explaining the word as meaning submarini; but no\nmore are they invariably connected with the sea. So another etymology\nrecommends itself, namely, one which comes from Dr. Whitley Stokes,\nand makes the mor in fomori to be of the same origin as the mare in\nthe English nightmare, French cauchemar, German mahr, 'an elf,' and\ncognate words. I may mention that with the Fomori of mythic origin have\ndoubtless been confounded and identified certain invaders of Ireland,\nespecially the Dumnonians from the country between Galloway and the\nmouth of the Clyde, some of whom may be inferred to have coasted\nthe north of Ireland and landed in the west, for example in Erris,\nthe north-west of Mayo, called after them Irrus (or Erris) Domnann.\n\nThe Manx brownie is called the fenodyree, and he is described as a\nhairy and apparently clumsy fellow, who would, for instance, thrash\na whole barnful of corn in a single night for the people to whom he\nfelt well disposed; and once on a time he undertook to bring down for\nthe farmer his wethers from Snaefell. When the fenodyree had safely\nput them in an outhouse, he said that he had some trouble with the\nlittle ram, as it had run three times round Snaefell that morning. The\nfarmer did not quite understand him, but on going to look at the\nsheep, he found, to his infinite surprise, that the little ram was\nno other than a hare, which, poor creature, was dying of fright and\nfatigue. I need scarcely point out the similarity between this and\nthe story of Peredur, who, as a boy, drove home two hinds with his\nmother's goats from the forest: he owned to having had some trouble\nwith the goats that had so long run wild as to have lost their horns,\na circumstance which had greatly impressed him [114]. To return to the\nfenodyree, I am not sure that there were more than one in Man--I have\nnever heard him spoken of in the plural; but two localities at least\nare assigned to him, namely, a farm called Ballachrink, in Colby,\nin the south, and a farm called Lanjaghan, in the parish of Conchan,\nnear Douglas. Much the same stories, however, appear to be current\nabout him in the two places, and one of the most curious of them is\nthat which relates how he left. The farmer so valued the services\nof the fenodyree, that one day he took it into his head to provide\nclothing for him. The fenodyree examined each article carefully,\nand expressed his idea of it, and specified the kind of disease it\nwas calculated to produce. In a word, he found that the clothes would\nmake head and foot sick, and he departed in disgust, saying to the\nfarmer, 'Though this place is thine, the great glen of Rushen is\nnot.' Glen Rushen is one of the most retired glens in the island,\nand it drains down through Glen Meay to the coast, some miles to\nthe south of Peel. It is to Glen Rushen, then, that the fenodyree\nis supposed to be gone; but on visiting that valley in 1890 [115] in\nquest of Manx-speaking peasants, I could find nobody there who knew\nanything of him. I suspect that the spread of the English language\neven there has forced him to leave the island altogether. Lastly,\nwith regard to the term fenodyree, I may mention that it is the word\nused in the Manx Bible of 1819 for satyr in Isaiah xxxiv. 14 [116],\nwhere we read in the English Bible as follows: 'The wild beasts of\nthe desert shall also meet with the wild beasts of the island, and\nthe satyr shall cry to his fellow.' In the Vulgate the latter clause\nreads: et pilosus clamabit alter ad alterum. The term fenodyree has\nbeen explained by Cregeen in his Manx Dictionary to mean one who\nhas hair for stockings or hose. That answers to the description of\nthe hairy satyr, and seems fairly well to satisfy the phonetics of\nthe case, the words from which he derives the compound being fynney\n[117], 'hair,' and oashyr, 'a stocking'; but as oashyr seems to come\nfrom the old Norse hosur, the plural of hosa, 'hose or stocking,'\nthe term fenodyree cannot date before the coming of the Norsemen;\nand I am inclined to think the idea more Teutonic than Celtic. At any\nrate I need not point out to the English reader the counterparts of\nthis hairy satyr in the hobgoblin 'Lob lie by the Fire,' and Milton's\n'Lubber Fiend,' whom he describes as one that\n\n\n                Basks at the fire his hairy strength,\n                And crop-full out of doors he flings,\n                Ere the first cock his matin rings.\n\n\nLastly, I may mention that Mr. Roeder has a great deal to say about\nthe fenodyree under the name of glashtyn; for it is difficult to\ndraw any hard and fast line between the glashtyn and the fenodyree,\nor even the water-bull, so much alike do they seem to have been\nregarded. Mr. Roeder's items of folklore concerning the glashtyns\n(see the Lioar Manninagh, iii. 139) show that there were male and\nfemale glashtyns, and that the former were believed to have been too\nfond of the women at Ballachrink, until one evening some of the men,\ndressed as women, arranged to receive some youthful glashtyns. Whether\nthe fenodyree is of Norse origin or not, the glashtyn is decidedly\nCeltic, as will be further shown in chapter vii. Here it will suffice\nto mention one or two related words which are recorded in Highland\nGaelic, namely, glaistig, 'a she-goblin which assumes the form of\na goat,' and glaisrig, 'a female fairy or a goblin, half human,\nhalf beast.'\n\nThe fairies claim our attention next, and as the only other fairies\ntolerably well known to me are those of Wales, I can only compare or\ncontrast the Manx fairies with the Welsh ones. They are called in Manx,\nsleih beggey, or little people, and ferrishyn, from the English word\nfairies, as it would seem. Like the Welsh fairies, they kidnap babies;\nand I have heard it related how a woman in Dalby had a struggle with\nthe fairies over her baby, which they were trying to drag out of the\nbed from her. Like Welsh fairies, also, they take possession of the\nhearth after the farmer and his family are gone to bed. A man in Dalby\nused to find them making a big fire in his kitchen: he would hear\nthe crackling and burning of the fire when nobody else could have\nbeen there except the fairies and their friends. I said 'friends,'\nfor they sometimes take a man with them, and allow him to eat with\nthem at the expense of others. Thus, some men from the northern-most\nparish, Kirk Bride, went once on a time to Port Erin, in the south,\nto buy a supply of fish for the winter, and with them went a Kirk\nMichael man who had the reputation of being a persona grata to the\nfairies. Now one of the Port Erin men asked a man from the north who\nthe Michael man might be: he was curious to know his name, as he had\nseen him once before, and on that occasion the Michael man was with\nthe fairies at his house--the Port Erin man's house--helping himself\nto bread and cheese in company with the rest. As the fairies were\nregaling themselves in this instance on ordinary bread and cheese\nat a living Manxman's expense, the story may perhaps be regarded as\nnot inconsistent with one mentioned by Cumming [118] to the following\neffect:--A man attracted one night as he was crossing the mountains,\nby fairy music, entered a fairy hall where a banquet was going on. He\nnoticed among them several faces which he seemed to know, but no act\nof mutual recognition took place till he had some drink offered him,\nwhen one of those whom he seemed to know warned him not to taste of\nthe drink if he had any wish to make his way home again. If he partook\nof it he would become like one of them. So he found an opportunity for\nspilling it on the ground and securing the cup; whereupon the hall and\nall its inmates instantaneously vanished. On this I may remark that\nit appears to have been a widely spread belief, that no one who had\npartaken of the food for spirits would be allowed to return to his\nformer life, and some instances will be found mentioned by Professor\nTylor in his Primitive Culture, ii. 50-2.\n\nLike the Welsh fairies, the Manx ones take men away with them and\ndetain them for years. Thus a Kirk Andreas man was absent from his\npeople for four years, which he spent with the fairies. He could not\ntell how he returned, but it seemed as if, having been unconscious,\nhe woke up at last in this world. The other world, however, in which\nhe was for the four years was not far away, as he could see what his\nbrothers and the rest of the family were doing every day, although\nthey could not see him. To prove this, he mentioned to them how they\nwere occupied on such and such a day, and, among other things, how\nthey took their corn on a particular day to Ramsey. He reminded them\nalso of their having heard a sudden sharp crack as they were passing\nby a thorn bush he named, and how they were so startled that one of\nthem would have run back home. He asked them if they remembered that,\nand they said they did, only too well. He then explained to them the\nmeaning of the noise, namely, that one of the fairies with whom he\nhad been galloping the whole time was about to let fly an arrow at\nhis brothers, but that as he was going to do this, he (the missing\nbrother) raised a plate and intercepted the arrow: that was the sharp\nnoise they had heard. Such was the account he had to give of his\nsojourn in Faery. This representation of the world of the fairies,\nas contained within the ordinary world of mortals, is very remarkable;\nbut it is not a new idea, as we seem to detect it in the Irish story\nof the abduction of Conla R\u00faad [119]: the fairy who comes to fetch\nhim tells him that the folk of Tethra, whom she represents, behold\nhim every day as he takes part in the assemblies of his country and\nsits among his friends. The commoner way of putting it is simply to\nrepresent the fairies as invisible to mortals at will; and one kind\nof Welsh story relates how the mortal midwife accidentally touches\nher eyes, while dressing a fairy baby, with an ointment which makes\nthe fairy world visible to her: see pp. 63, 213, above.\n\nLike Welsh fairies, the Manx ones had, as the reader will have seen,\nhorses to ride; they had also dogs, just as the Welsh ones had. This\nI learn from another story, to the effect that a fisherman, taking a\nfresh fish home, was pursued by a pack of fairy dogs, so that it was\nonly with great trouble he reached his own door. Then he picked up\na stone and threw it at the dogs, which at once disappeared; but he\ndid not escape, as he was shot by the fairies, and so hurt that he lay\nill for fully six months from that day. He would have been left alone\nby the fairies, I was told, if he had only taken care to put a pinch\nof salt in the fish's mouth before setting out, for the Manx fairies\ncannot stand salt or baptism. So children that have been baptized are,\nas in Wales, less liable to be kidnapped by these elves than those\nthat have not. I scarcely need add that a twig of cuirn [120] or rowan\nis also as effective against fairies in Man as it is in Wales. Manx\nfairies seem to have been musical, like their kinsmen elsewhere; for\nI have heard of an Orrisdale man crossing the neighbouring mountains\nat night and hearing fairy music, which took his fancy so much that\nhe listened, and tried to remember it. He had, however, to return,\nit is said, three times to the place before he could carry it away\ncomplete in his mind, which he succeeded in doing at last just as the\nday was breaking and the musicians disappearing. This air, I am told,\nis now known by the name of the Bollan Bane, or White Wort. As to\ncertain Welsh airs similarly supposed to have been derived from the\nfairies, see pages 201-2 above.\n\nSo far I have pointed out next to nothing but similarities between\nManx fairies and Welsh ones, and I find very little indicative of a\ndifference. First, with regard to salt, I am unable to say anything\nin this direction, as I do not happen to know how Welsh fairies\nregard salt: it is not improbable that they eschew salt as well as\nbaptism, especially as the Church of Rome has long associated salt\nwith baptism. There is, however, one point, at least, of difference\nbetween the fairies of Man and of Wales: the latter are, so far as I\ncan call to mind, never supposed to discharge arrows at men or women,\nor to handle a bow [121] at all, whereas Manx fairies are always\nready to shoot. May we, therefore, provisionally regard this trait\nof the Manx fairies as derived from a Teutonic source? At any rate\nEnglish and Scotch elves were supposed to shoot, and I am indebted\nto the kindness of my colleague, Professor Napier, for calling my\nattention to the Leechdoms of Early England [122] for cases in point.\n\nNow that most of the imaginary inhabitants of Man and its coasts have\nbeen rapidly passed in review before the reader, I may say something\nof others whom I regard as semi-imaginary--real human beings to whom\nimpossible attributes are ascribed: I mean chiefly the witches, or,\nas they are sometimes called in Manx English, butches [123]. That\nterm I take to be a variant of the English word witch, produced\nunder the influence of the verb bewitch, which was reduced in Manx\nEnglish to a form butch, especially if one bear in mind the Cumbrian\nand Scottish pronunciation of these words, as wutch and bewutch. Now\nwitches shift their form, and I have heard of one old witch changing\nherself into a pigeon; but that I am bound to regard as exceptional,\nthe regular form into which Manx witches pass at their pleasure being\nthat of the hare, and such a swift and thick skinned hare that no\ngreyhound, except a black one without a single white hair, can catch\nit, and no shot, except a silver coin, penetrate its body. Both these\npeculiarities are also well known in Wales. I notice a difference,\nhowever, between Wales and Man with regard to the hare witches:\nin Wales only the women can become hares, and this property runs,\nso far as I know, in certain families. I have known many such, and my\nown nurse belonged to one of them, so that my mother was reckoned to\nbe rather reckless in entrusting me to y Gota, or 'the Cutty One,' as\nshe might run away at any moment, leaving her charge to take care of\nitself. But I have never heard of any man or boy of any such family\nturning himself into a hare, whereas in the Isle of Man the hare\nwitches may belong, if I may say so, to either sex. I am not sure,\nhowever, that a man who turns himself into a hare would be called a\nwizard or witch; and I recollect hearing in the neighbourhood of Ramsey\nof a man nicknamed the gaaue mwaagh, that is to say, 'the hare smith,'\nthe reason being that this particular smith now and then assumed the\nform of a hare. I am not quite sure that gaaue mwaagh is the name of\na class, though I rather infer that it is. If so, it must be regarded\nas a survival of the magic skill associated with smiths in ancient\nIreland, as evidenced, for instance, in St. Patrick's Hymn in the\neleventh or twelfth century manuscript at Trinity College, Dublin,\nknown as the Liber Hymnorum, in which we have a prayer--\n\n\n    Fri brichta ban ocus goband ocus druad.\n\n    Against the spells of women, of smiths and magicians [124].\n\n\nThe persons who had the power of turning themselves into hares were\nbelieved to be abroad and very active, together with the whole demon\nworld, on the eve of May-day of the Old Style. And a middle-aged\nman from the parish of Andreas related to me how he came three or\nfour times across a woman reputed to be a witch, carrying on her\nevil practices at the junction of cross-roads, or the meeting of\nthree boundaries. This happened once very early on Old May morning,\nand afterwards he met her several times as he was returning home from\nvisiting his sweetheart. He warned the witch that if he found her again\nhe would kick her: that is what he tells me. Well, after a while he\ndid surprise her again at work at four cross-roads, somewhere near\nLezayre. She had a circle, he said, as large as that made by horses\nin threshing, swept clean around her. He kicked her and took away her\nbesom, which he hid till the middle of the day. Then he made the farm\nboys fetch some dry gorse, and he put the witch's besom on the top of\nit. Thereupon fire was set to the gorse, and, wonderful to relate,\nthe besom, as it burned, crackled and made reports like guns going\noff. In fact, the noise could be heard at Andreas Church--that is\nto say, miles away. The besom had on it 'seventeen sorts of knots,'\nhe stated, and the woman herself ought to have been burned: in fact,\nhe added that she did not long survive her besom. The man who related\nthis to me is hale and strong, living now in the parish of Michael,\nand not in that of Andreas, where he was born.\n\nThere is a tradition at St. John's, which is overlooked by the mountain\ncalled Slieau Whallian, that witches used at one time to be punished\nby being set to roll down the steep side of the mountain in spiked\nbarrels; but, short of putting them to death, there were various ways\nof rendering the machinations of witches innocuous, or of undoing the\nmischief done by them; for the charmers supply various means of meeting\nthem triumphantly, and in case an animal is the victim, the burning of\nit always proves an effective means of bringing the offender to book:\nI shall have occasion to return to this under another heading. There\nis a belief that if you can draw blood, however little, from a witch,\nor one who has the evil eye, he loses his power of harming you;\nand I have been told that formerly this belief was sometimes acted\nupon. Thus, on leaving church, for instance, the man who fancied\nhimself in danger from another would sidle up to him or walk by his\nside, and inflict on him a slight scratch, or some other trivial wound,\nwhich elicited blood; but this must have been a course always attended\nwith more or less danger.\n\nThe persons able to undo the witches' work, and remove the malignant\ninfluence of the evil eye, are known in Manx English as charmers,\nand something must now be said of them. They have various ways of\nproceeding to their work. A lady of about thirty-five, living at Peel,\nrelated to me how, when she was a child suffering from a swelling\nin the neck, she had it charmed away by an old woman. This charmer\nbrought with her no less than nine pieces of iron, consisting of\nbits of old pokers, old nails, and other odds and ends of the same\nmetal, making in all nine pieces. After invoking the Father, the Son,\nand the Holy Ghost, she began to rub the girl's neck with the old\nirons; nor was she satisfied with that, for she rubbed the doors,\nthe walls, and the furniture likewise, with the metal. The result, I\nwas assured, was highly satisfactory, as she has never been troubled\nwith a swelling in the throat since that day. Sometimes a passage\nfrom the Bible is made use of in charming, as, for instance, in the\ncase of bleeding. One of the verses then pronounced is Ezekiel xvi. 6,\nwhich runs thus:--'And when I passed by thee, and saw thee polluted in\nthine own blood, I said unto thee when thou wast in thy blood, Live;\nyea, I said unto thee when thou wast in thy blood, Live.' This was\ntold me by a Laxey man, who is over seventy years of age. The methods\nof charming away warts are various. A woman from the neighbourhood\nof St. John's explained to me how a charmer told her to get rid of\nthe warts on her hands. She was to take a string and make a knot on\nit for every wart she had, and then tie the string round her hand,\nor fingers--I forget which; and I think my informant, on her part,\nforgot to tell me a vital part of the formula, namely, that the string\nwas to be destroyed. But however that may be, she assured me that the\nwarts disappeared, and have never returned since. A lady at Andreas has\na still simpler method of getting rid of warts. She rubs a snail on the\nwarts, and then places the snail on one of the points of a blackthorn,\nand, in fact, leaves the snail to die, transfixed by the thorn; and\nas the snail dies the warts disappear. She has done this in the case\nof her niece with complete success, so far as the wart was concerned;\nbut she had forgotten to notice whether the snail had also succumbed.\n\nThe lady who in this case applied the remedy cannot be in any sense\ncalled a charmer, however much one may insist on calling what she\ndid a charm. In fact, the term charmer tends to be associated with a\nparticular class of charm involving the use of herbs. Thus there used\nto be at one time a famous charmer living near Kirk Michael, to whom\nthe fishermen were in the habit of resorting, and my informant told\nme that he had been deputed more than once by his fellow fishermen to\ngo to him in consequence of their lack of success in the fishing. The\ncharmer gave him a packet of herbs, cut small, with directions that\nthey should be boiled, and the water mixed with some spirits--rum,\nI think--and partly drunk in the boat by the captain and the crew,\nand partly sprinkled over the boat and everything in it. The charmer\nclearly defined his position in the matter to my informant. 'I cannot,'\nhe said, 'put the fish in your nets for you; but if there is any\nmischief in the way of your luck, I can remove that for you.' The\nfishermen themselves had, however, more exaggerated notions of the\ncharmer's functions, for once on a time my informant spent on drink\nfor his boon companions the money which he was to give the charmer,\nand then he collected herbs himself--it did not much matter what\nherbs--and took them to his captain, who, with the crew, went through\nthe proper ritual, and made a most successful haul that night. In\nfact, the only source of discontent was the charmer's not having\ndistributed the fish over two nights, instead of endangering their\nnets by an excessive haul all in one night. They regarded him as able\nto do almost anything he liked in the matter.\n\nA lady at Andreas gave me an account of a celebrated charmer who\nlived between there and the coast. He worked on her husband's farm,\nbut used to be frequently called away to be consulted. He usually cut\nup wormwood for the people who came to him, and if there was none to\nbe had, he did not scruple to rob the garden of any small sprouts\nit contained of cabbage or the like. He would chop them small,\nand give directions about boiling them and drinking the water. He\nusually charged any one leaving him to speak to nobody on the way,\nlest he break the charm, and this mysteriousness was evidently an\nimportant element in his profession. But he was, nevertheless, a\nthriftless fellow, and when he went to Peel, and sent the crier round\nto announce his arrival, and received a good deal of money from the\nfishermen, he seldom so conducted himself as to bring much of his\nearnings home. He died miserably some seven or eight years ago at\nRamsey, and left a widow in great poverty. As to the present day,\nthe daughter of a charmer now dead is married to a man living in a\nvillage on the southern side of the island, and she appears to have\ninherited her father's reputation for charming, as the fishermen from\nall parts are said to flock to her for luck. Incidentally, I have\nheard in the south more than once of her being consulted in cases of\nsudden and dangerous illness, even after the best medical advice has\nbeen obtained: in fact, she seems to have a considerable practice.\n\nIn answer to my question, how the charmer who died at Ramsey used\nto give the sailors luck in the fishing, my informant at Andreas\ncould not say, except that he gave them herbs as already described,\nand she thought also that he sold them wisps to place under their\npillows. I gather that the charms were chiefly directed to the removal\nof supposed impediments to success in the fishing, rather than to any\nact of a more positive nature. So far as I have been able to ascertain,\ncharming is hereditary, and they say that it descends from father\nto daughter, and then from daughter to son, and so on--a remarkable\nkind of descent, on which I should be glad to learn the opinion of\nanthropologists. One of the best Manx scholars in the island related\nto me how some fishermen once insisted on his doing the charmer for\nthem because of his being of such and such a family, and how he made\nfools of them. It is my impression that the charming families are\ncomparatively few in number, and this looks as if they descended from\nthe family physicians or druids of one or two chieftains in ancient\ntimes. It is very likely a question which could be cleared up by a\nlocal man familiar with the island and all that tradition has to say\non the subject of Manx pedigrees.\n\nIn the case of animals ailing, the herbs were also resorted to;\nand, if the beasts happened to be milch cows, the herbs had to be\nboiled in some of their milk. This was supposed to produce wonderful\nresults, described as follows by a man living at a place on the way\nfrom Castletown up South Barrule:--A farmer in his parish had a cow\nthat milked blood, as he described it, and this in consequence of a\nwitch's ill-will. He went to the charmer, who gave him some herbs,\nwhich he was to boil in the ailing cow's milk, and the charmer charged\nhim, whatever he did, not to quit the concoction while it was on the\nfire, in spite of any noises he might hear. The farmer went home and\nproceeded that night to boil the herbs as directed, but he suddenly\nheard a violent tapping at the door, a terrible lowing of the cattle\nin the cow-house, and stones coming down the 'chumley': the end of it\nwas that he suddenly fled and sprang into bed to take shelter behind\nhis wife. He went to the charmer again, and related to him what had\nhappened: he was told that he must have more courage the next time,\nunless he wished his cow to die. He promised to do his best, and\nthis time he stood his ground in spite of the noises and the creaking\nof the windows--until, in fact, a back window burst into pieces and\nbodily let a witch in, who craved his pardon, and promised nevermore\nto molest him or his. This all happened at the farm in question\nin the time of the present farmer's grandfather. The boiling of\nthe charmer's herbs in milk always produces a great commotion and\nlowing among the cattle, and it invariably cures the ailing ones:\nthis is firmly believed by respectable farmers whom I could name,\nin the north of the island in particular, and I am alluding to men\nwhom one might consider fairly educated members of their class.\n\nIn the last mentioned instance not only is the requisite cure\neffected, but the witch who caused the mischief is brought on the\nspot. I have recently heard of a parallel to this in a belief which\nappears to be still prevalent in the Channel Islands, more especially\nGuernsey. The following incidents have been communicated to me by an\nardent folklorist, who has friends in the islands:--\n\nAn old woman in Torteval became ill, and her two sons were told that\nif they tried one of the charms of divination, such as boiling certain\nweeds in a pot, the first person to come to the house would prove\nto be the one who had cast a spell over their mother. Accordingly\nthey made their bouillederie, and who should come to the door but\na poor, unoffending Breton onion seller, and as he was going away\nhe was waylaid by the two sons, who beat him within an inch of his\nlife. They were prosecuted and sentenced to terms of imprisonment;\nbut the charming did not come out in the evidence, though it was\ngenerally known to have been the reason for the assault. This account\nwas given my informant in 1898, and the incident appears to have\nhappened not very long before. Another is related thus:--A certain\nfamily suffered from a plague of lice, which they regarded as the\nconsequence of a spell. They accordingly made their boiling of herbs\nand looked for the first comer. He turned out to be a neighbour of\ntheirs who wished to buy some turnip seeds. The family abused him\nroundly. He went away, but he was watched and caught by two of the\nsons of the house, who beat him cruelly. They, on being prosecuted,\nhad to pay him \u00a35 damages. This took place in the summer of 1898,\nin the narrator's own parish, in Guernsey. I have also another case\nof recent date, to the effect that a young woman, whose churning was\nso unsuccessful that the butter would not come, boiled herbs in the\nprescribed way. She awaited the first comer, and, being engaged, her\nintended husband was not unnaturally the first to arrive. She abused\nhim so unsparingly that he broke off the engagement. These instances\ngo far enough to raise the question why the boiling of herbs should\nbe supposed to bring the culprit immediately on the spot, but they\nhardly go any further, namely, to help us to answer it.\n\nMagic takes us back to a very primitive and loose manner of thinking;\nso the marvellously easy way in which it identifies any tie of\nassociation, however flimsy, with the insoluble bond of relationship\nwhich educated men and women regard as connecting cause and effect,\nrenders even simpler means than I have described quite equal to the\nundoing of the evils resulting from the activity of the evil eye. Thus,\nlet us suppose that a person endowed with the evil eye has just passed\nby the farmer's herd of cattle, and a calf has suddenly been seized\nwith a serious illness, the farmer hurries after the man of the evil\neye to get the dust from under his feet. If he objects, the farmer\nmay, as has sometimes been actually done, throw him down by force,\ntake off his shoes, and scrape off the dust adhering to their soles,\nand carry it back to throw over the calf. Even that is not always\nnecessary, as it appears to be quite enough if he takes up dust where\nhe of the evil eye has just trod the ground. There are innumerable\ncases on folk-record of both means proving entirely efficacious,\nand they remind one of a story related in the Itinerarium Kambri\u00e6,\ni. 11, by Giraldus, as to the archbishop when he was preaching in the\nneighbourhood of Haverfordwest. A certain woman had lost her sight,\nbut had so much faith in that holy man that she sent her son to try and\nprocure the least bit of the fringe of his clothing. The youth, unable\nto make his way through the crowd that surrounded the preacher, waited\ntill it dispersed, and then took home to his mother the sod on which\nhe had stood and on which his feet had left their mark. That earth was\napplied by her to her face and eyes, with the result that she at once\nrecovered her sight. A similar question of psychology presents itself\nin a practice intended as a preservative against the evil eye rather\nthan as a cure. I allude to what I have heard about two maiden ladies\nliving in a Manx village which I know very well: they are natives\nof a neighbouring parish, and I am assured that whenever a stranger\nenters their house they proceed, as soon as he goes away, to strew a\nlittle dust or sand over the spot where he stood. That is understood\nto prevent any malignant influence resulting from his visit. This\ntacit identifying of a man with his footprints may be detected in a\nmore precarious and pleasing form in a quaint conceit familiar to me\nin the lyrics of rustic life in Wales, when, for example, a coy maiden\nleaves her lovesick swain hotly avowing his perfect readiness to cusanu\nol ei thraed, that is, to do on his knees all the stages of her path\nacross the meadow, kissing the ground wherever it has been honoured\nwith the tread of her dainty foot. Let me take another case, in which\nthe cord of association is not so inconceivably slender, namely,\nwhen two or more persons standing in a close relation to one another\nare mistakenly treated a little too much as if mutually independent,\nthe objection is heard that it matters not whether it is A or B, that\nit is, in fact, all the same, as they belong to the same concern. In\nWelsh this is sometimes expressed by saying, Yr un yw Huw'r Glyn a'i\nglocs, that is, 'Hugh of the Glen and his clogs are all one.' Then,\nwhen you speak in English of a man 'standing in another's shoes,'\nI am by no means certain, that you are not employing an expression\nwhich meant something more to those who first used it than it does to\nus. Our modern idioms, with all their straining after the abstract,\nare but primitive man's mental tools adapted to the requirements of\ncivilized life, and they often retain traces of the form and shape\nwhich the neolithic worker's chipping and polishing gave them.\n\nIt is difficult to arrange these scraps under any clearly classified\nheadings, and now that I have led the reader into the midst of matters\nmagical, perhaps I may just as well go on to the mention of a few\nmore: I alluded to the boiling of the herbs according to the charmer's\norders, with the result, among other things, of bringing the witch to\nthe spot. This is, however, not the only instance of the importance\nand strange efficacy of fire. For when a beast dies on a farm, of\ncourse it dies, according to the old-fashioned view of things as I\nunderstand it, from the influence of the evil eye or the interposition\nof a witch. So if you want to know to whom you are indebted for the\nloss of the beast, you have simply to burn its carcase in the open\nair and watch who comes first to the spot or who first passes by:\nthat is the criminal to be charged with the death of the animal,\nand he cannot help coming there--such is the effect of the fire. A\nMichael woman, who is now about thirty, related to me how she watched\nwhile the carcase of a bewitched colt was burning, how she saw the\nwitch coming, and how she remembers her shrivelled face, with nose\nand chin in close proximity. According to another native of Michael,\na well informed middle-aged man, the animal in question was oftenest\na calf, and it was wont to be burnt whole, skin and all. The object,\naccording to him, is invariably to bring the bewitcher on the spot,\nand he always comes; but I am not clear what happens to him when\nhe appears. My informant added, however, that it was believed that,\nunless the bewitcher got possession of the heart of the burning beast,\nhe lost all his power of bewitching. He related, also, how his father\nand three other men were once out fishing on the west coast of the\nisland, when one of the three suddenly expressed his wish to land. As\nthey were fishing successfully some two or three miles from the shore,\nthey would not hear of it. He, however, insisted that they must put him\nashore at once, which made his comrades highly indignant; but they soon\nhad to give way, as they found that he was determined to leap overboard\nunless they complied. When he got on shore they watched him hurrying\naway towards where a beast was burning in the corner of a field.\n\nManx stories merge this burning in a very perplexing fashion with what\nmay be termed a sacrifice for luck. The following scraps of information\nwill make it clear what I mean:--A respectable farmer from Andreas\ntold me that he was driving with his wife to the neighbouring parish of\nJurby some years ago, and that on the way they beheld the carcase of a\ncow or an ox burning in a field, with a woman engaged in stirring the\nfire. On reaching the village to which they were going, they found\nthat the burning beast belonged to a farmer whom they knew. They\nwere further told it was no wonder that the said farmer had one of\nhis cattle burnt, as several of them had recently died. Whether this\nwas a case of sacrifice or not I cannot say. But let me give another\ninstance: a man whom I have already mentioned, saw at a farm nearer\nthe centre of the island a live calf being burnt. The owner bears\nan English name, but his family has long been settled in Man. The\nfarmer's explanation to my informant was that the calf was burnt to\nsecure luck for the rest of the herd, some of which were threatening\nto die. My informant thought there was absolutely nothing the matter\nwith them, except that they had too little food. Be that as it may,\nthe one calf was sacrificed as a burnt offering to secure luck for\nthe rest of the cattle. Let me here also quote Mr. Moore's note in\nhis Manx Surnames, p. 184, on the place-name Cabbal yn Oural Losht,\nor the 'Chapel of the Burnt Sacrifice.' 'This name,' he says, 'records\na circumstance which took place in the nineteenth century, but which,\nit is to be hoped, was never customary in the Isle of Man. A farmer,\nwho had lost a number of his sheep and cattle by murrain, burned a calf\nas a propitiatory offering to the Deity on this spot, where a chapel\nwas afterwards built. Hence the name.' Particulars, I may say, of time,\nplace, and person, could be easily added to Mr. Moore's statement,\nexcepting, perhaps, as to the deity in question: on that point I have\nnever been informed, but Mr. Moore was probably right in the use of\nthe capital d, as the sacrificer was, according to all accounts, a\ndevout Christian. I have to thank Sir Frederick Pollock for calling my\nattention to a parallel this side of the sea: he refers me to Worth's\nHistory of Devonshire (London, 1886), p. 339, where one reads the\nfollowing singular passage:--'Living animals have been burnt alive in\nsacrifice within memory to avert the loss of other stock. The burial\nof three puppies \"brandise-wise\" in a field is supposed to rid it\nof weeds.' The second statement is very curious, and the first seems\nto mean that preventive sacrifices have been performed in Devonshire\nwithin the memory of men living in the author's time.\n\nOne more Manx instance: an octogenarian woman, born in the parish of\nBride, and now living at Kirk Andreas, saw, when she was a 'lump of\na girl' of ten or fifteen years of age, a live sheep being burnt in\na field in the parish of Andreas, on May-day, whereby she meant the\nfirst of May reckoned according to the Old Style. She asserts [125]\nvery decidedly that it was son oural, 'for a sacrifice,' as she put\nit, and 'for an object to the public': those were her words when she\nexpressed herself in English. Further, she made the statement that\nit was a custom to burn a sheep on Old May-day for a sacrifice. I was\nfully alive to the interest of this evidence, and cross-examined her\nso far as her age allows of it, and I find that she adheres to her\nstatement with all firmness, but I distinguish two or three points in\nher evidence: 1. I have no doubt that she saw, as she was passing by\na certain field on the borders of Andreas parish, a live sheep being\nburnt on Old May-day. 2. But her statement that it was son oural, or\nas a sacrifice, was probably only an inference drawn by her, possibly\nyears afterwards, on hearing things of the kind discussed. 3. Lastly,\nI am convinced that she did hear the May-day sacrifice discussed, both\nin Manx and in English: her words, 'for an object to the public,' are\nher imperfect recollection of a phrase used in her hearing by somebody\nmore ambitious of employing English abstract terms than she is; and\nthe formal nature of her statement in Manx, that it was customary\non May-day to burn as a sacrifice one head of sheep (Laa Boaldyn va\ncliaghtey dy lostey son oural un baagh keyrragh), produces the same\nimpression on my mind, that she is only repeating somebody else's\nwords. I mention this more especially as I have failed to find anybody\nelse in Andreas or Bride, or indeed in the whole island, who will\nnow confess to having ever heard of the sheep sacrifice on Old May-day.\n\nThe time assigned to the sheep sacrifice, namely May-day, leads\nme to make some remarks on the importance of that day among the\nCelts. The day meant is, as I have already said, Old May-day, in Manx\nShenn Laa Boaldyn, the belltaine of Cormac's Glossary, Scotch Gaelic\nbealtuinn. This was a day when systematic efforts were made to protect\nman and beast against elves and witches; for it was then that people\ncarried crosses of rowan in their hats and placed May flowers over\nthe tops of their doors and elsewhere as preservatives against all\nmalignant influences. With the same object in view crosses of rowan\nwere likewise fastened to the tails of the cattle, small crosses\nwhich had to be made without the help of a knife: I exhibited a tiny\nspecimen at one of the meetings of the Folk-Lore Society. Early on May\nmorning one went out to gather the dew as a thing of great virtue,\nas in other countries. At Kirk Michael one woman, who had been out\non this errand years ago, told me that she washed her face with the\ndew in order to secure luck, a good complexion, and safety against\nwitches. The break of this day is also the signal for setting the\nling or the gorse on fire, which is done in order to burn out the\nwitches wont to take the form of the hare; and guns, I am told,\nwere freely used to shoot any game met with on that morning. With the\nproper charge some of the witches were now and then hit and wounded,\nwhereupon they resumed the human form and remained cripples for the\nrest of their lives. Fire, however, appears to have been the chief\nagency relied on to clear away the witches and other malignant beings;\nand I have heard of this use of fire having been carried so far that\na practice was sometimes observed--as, for example, in Lezayre--of\nburning gorse, however little, in the hedge of each field on a farm\nin order to drive away the witches and secure luck.\n\nThe man who told me this, on being asked whether he had ever heard\nof cattle being driven through fire or between two fires on May-day,\nreplied that it was not known to him as a Manx custom, but that it was\nan Irish one. A cattle-dealer whom he named used on May-day to drive\nhis cattle through fire so as to singe them a little, as he believed\nthat would preserve them from harm. He was an Irishman, who came to\nthe island for many years, and whose children are settled in the island\nnow. On my asking him if he knew whence the dealer came, he answered,\n'From the mountains over there,' pointing to the Mourne Mountains\nlooming faintly in the mists on the western horizon. The Irish custom\nknown to my Manx informant is interesting both as throwing light on\nthe Manx custom, and as being the continuation of a very ancient rite\nmentioned by Cormac. That writer, or somebody in his name, says that\nbelltaine, May-day, was so called from the 'lucky fire,' or the 'two\nfires,' which the druids of Erin used to make on that day with great\nincantations; and cattle, he adds, used to be brought to those fires,\nor to be driven between them, as a safeguard against the diseases of\nthe year. Cormac [126] says nothing, it will be noticed, as to one of\nthe cattle or the sheep being sacrificed for the sake of prosperity\nto the rest. However, Scottish [127] May-day customs point to a\nsacrifice having been once usual, and that possibly of human beings,\nand not of sheep as in the Isle of Man. I have elsewhere [128] tried\nto equate these Celtic May-day practices with the Thargelia [129]\nof the Athenians of antiquity. The Thargelia were characterized by\npeculiar rites, and among other things then done, two adult persons\nwere led about, as it were scapegoats, and at the end they were\nsacrificed and burnt, so that their ashes might be dispersed. Here\nwe seem to be on the track of a very ancient Aryan practice, although\nthe Celtic season does not quite coincide with the Greek one. Several\nitems of importance for comparison here will be found passed under\ncareful review in a most suggestive paper by Mr. Lawrence Gomme, 'On\nthe Method of determining the Value of Folklore as Ethnological Data,'\nin the Fourth Report of the Ethnographical Survey Committee [130].\n\nIt is probably in some ancient May-day custom that we are to look\nfor the key to a remarkable place-name occurring several times in\nthe island: I allude to that of Cronk yn Irree Laa, which probably\nmeans the Hill of the Rise of Day. This is the name of one of the\nmountains in the south of the island, but it is also borne by one\nof the knolls near the eastern end of the range of low hills ending\nabruptly on the coast between Ramsey and Bride parish, and quite a\nsmall knoll bears the name, near the church of Jurby [131]. I have\nheard of a fourth instance, which, as I learn from Mr. Philip Kermode,\neditor of the Lioar Manninagh, is on Clay Head, near Laxey. It has\nbeen attempted to explain it as meaning the Hill of the Watch by Day,\nin reference to the old institution of Watch and Ward on conspicuous\nplaces in the island; but that explanation is inadmissible as doing\nviolence to the phonetics of the words in question [132]. I am rather\ninclined to think that the name everywhere refers to an eminence to\nwhich the surrounding inhabitants resorted for a religious purpose\non a particular day in the year. I should suggest that it was to\ndo homage to the rising sun on May morning, but this conjecture is\noffered only to await a better explanation.\n\nThe next great day in the pagan calendar of the Celts is called in\nManx Laa Lhunys, in Irish Lugnassad, the assembly or fair, which was\nassociated with the name of the god Lug. This should correspond to\nLammas, but, reckoned as it is according to the Old Style, it falls\non the twelfth of August, which used to be a great day for business\nfairs in the Isle of Man as in Wales. But for holiday making the\ntwelfth only suited when it happened to be a Sunday: when that was\nnot the case, the first Sunday after the twelfth was fixed upon. It is\nknown, accordingly, as the first Sunday of Harvest, and it used to be\ncelebrated by crowds of people visiting the tops of the mountains. The\nkind of interference to which I have alluded with regard to an ancient\nholiday, is one of the regular results of the transition from Roman\nCatholicism to a Protestant system with only one fixed holiday, namely,\nSunday. The same shifting has partly happened in Wales, where Lammas\nis Gwyl Awst, or the festival of Augustus, since the birthday of\nAugustus, auspiciously for him and the celebrity of his day, fell in\nwith the great day of the god Lug in the Celtic world. Now the day\nfor going up the Fan Fach mountain in Carmarthenshire was Lammas,\nbut under a Protestant Church it became the first Sunday in August;\nand even modified in that way it could not long survive under a\nvigorous sabbatarian r\u00e9gime either in Wales or Man. As to the latter\nin particular, I have heard it related by persons who were present,\nhow the crowds on the top of South Barrule on the first Sunday of\nHarvest were denounced as pagans by a preacher called William Gick,\nsome seventy years ago; and how another man called Paric Beg, or\nLittle Patrick, preaching to the crowds on Snaefell in milder terms,\nused to wind up the service with a collection, which appears to have\nproved a speedier method of reducing the dimensions of these meetings\non the mountain tops. Be that as it may, they seem to have dwindled\nsince then to comparative insignificance.\n\nIf you ask the reason for this custom now, for it is not yet quite\nextinct, you are told, first, that it is merely to gather ling\nberries; but now and then a quasi-religious reason is given, namely,\nthat it is the day on which Jephthah's daughter went forth to bewail\nher virginity 'upon the mountains': somehow some Manx people make\nbelieve that they are doing likewise. That is not all, for people\nwho have never themselves thought of going up the mountains on the\nfirst Sunday of harvest or any other, will be found devoutly reading\nat home about Jephthah's daughter on that day. I was told this first\nin the south by a clergyman's wife, who, finding a woman in the parish\nreading the chapter in question on that day, asked the reason for her\nfixing on that particular portion of the Bible. She then had the Manx\nview of the matter fully explained to her, and she has since found\nmore information about it, and so have I. It is needless for me to\nsay that I do not quite understand how Jephthah's daughter came to be\nintroduced: perhaps it is vain to look for any deeper reason than that\nthe mention, of the mountains may have served as a sort of catch-word,\nand that as the Manx people began to cease from visiting the tops of\nthe mountains annually, it struck the women as the next best thing\nfor them to read at home of one who did 'go up and down upon the\nmountains': they are great readers of the Bible generally. In any case\nwe have here a very curious instance of a practice, originally pagan,\nmodifying itself profoundly to secure a new lease of life.\n\nBetween May-day and November eve, there was a day of considerable\nimportance in the island; but the fixing on it was probably\ndue to influence other than Celtic: I mean Midsummer Eve, or\nSt. John's. However, some practices connected with it would seem to\nhave been of Celtic origin, such as 'the bearing of rushes to certain\nplaces called Warrefield and Mame on Midsummer Even.' Warrefield was\nmade in Manx into Barrule, but Mame, 'the jugum, or ridge,' has not\nbeen identified. The Barrule here in question was South Barrule, and it\nis to the top of that mountain the green rushes were carried, according\nto Manx tradition, as the only rent or tax which the inhabitants paid,\nnamely, to Manann\u00e1n mac Lir (called in Welsh Manawydan ab Llyr),\nwhom the same tradition treats as father and founder, as king and\nchief wizard of the Isle of Man, the same Manann\u00e1n who is quaintly\nreferred to in the illiterate passage at the head of this chapter\n[133]. As already stated, the payment of the annual rent of rushes is\nassociated with Midsummer Eve; but it did not prevent the top of South\nBarrule from being visited likewise later in the year. Perhaps it may\nalso be worth while mentioning, with regard to most of the mountains\nclimbed on the first Sunday of Harvest, that they seem to have near the\nsummit of each a well of some celebrity, which appears to be the goal\nof the visitors' peregrinations. This is the case with South Barrule,\nthe spring near the top of which cannot, it is said, be found when\nsought a second time; also with Snaefell and with Maughold Head, which\nboasts one of the most famous springs in the island. When I visited\nit last summer in company with Mr. Kermode, we found it to contain\na considerable number of pins, some of which were bent, and many\nbuttons. Some of the pins were not of a kind usually carried by men,\nand most of the buttons decidedly belonged to the dress of the other\nsex. Several people who had resorted many years ago to St. Maughold's\nWell, told me that the water is good for sore eyes, and that after\nusing it on the spot, or filling a bottle with it to take home, one\nwas wont to drop a pin or bead or button into the well. But it had\nits full virtue only when visited the first Sunday of Harvest, and\nthat only during the hour when the books were open at church, which,\nshifted back to Roman Catholic times, means doubtless the hour when\nthe priest was engaged in saying Mass. Compare the passage in the\nMabinogi of Math, where it is said that the spear required for the\nslaying of Llew Llawgyffes had to be a whole year in the making: the\nwork was to be pursued only so long as one was engaged at the sacrifice\non Sunday (ar yr aberth duw sul): see the Oxford Mabinogion, p. 76.\nTo return to Man, the restriction, as might be expected, is not\npeculiar to St. Maughold's Well: I have heard of it in connexion\nwith other wells, such as Chibbyr Lansh in Lezayre parish, and with\na well on Slieau Maggyl, in which some Kirk Michael people have a\ngreat belief. But even sea water was believed to have considerable\nvirtues if you washed in it while the books were open at church, as I\nwas told by a woman who had many years ago repeatedly taken her own\nsister to divers wells and to the sea during the service on Sunday,\nin order to have her eyes cured of a chronic weakness.\n\nThe remaining great day in the Celtic year is called Sauin or Laa\nHouney: in Irish, Samhain, genitive Samhna. The Manx call it in\nEnglish Hollantide, a word derived from the English All hallowen tide,\n'the Season of All Saints [134].' This day is also reckoned in Man\naccording to the Old Style, so that it is our twelfth of November. That\nis the day when the tenure of land terminates, and when servant men\ngo to their places. In other words, it is the beginning of a new year;\nand Kelly, in his Manx-English Dictionary, has, under the word blein,\n'year,' the following note:--'Vallancey says the Celts began their\nyear with January; yet in the Isle of Man the first of November is\ncalled New Year's day by the Mummers, who, on the eve, begin their\npetition in these words: To-night is New Year's night, Hog-unnaa [135],\n&c.' It is a pity that Kelly, whilst he was on this subject, did not\ngive the rhyme in Manx, and all the more so, as the mummers of the\npresent day, if he is right, must have changed their words into Noght\noie Houney, that is to say, To-night is Sauin Night or Halloween. So\nI had despaired of finding anybody who could corroborate Kelly in his\nstatement, when I happened last summer to find a man at Kirk Michael\nwho was quite familiar with this way of treating the year. I asked\nhim if he could explain Kelly's absurd statement--I put my question\ndesignedly in that form. He said he could, but that there was nothing\nabsurd in it. He then told me how he had heard some old people talk of\nit: he is himself now about sixty-seven. He had been a farm servant\nfrom the age of sixteen till he was twenty-six to the same man, near\nRegaby, in the parish of Andreas, and he remembers his master and a\nnear neighbour of his discussing the term New Year's Day as applied to\nthe first of November, and explaining to the younger men that it had\nalways been so in old times. In fact, it seemed to him natural enough,\nas all tenure of land ends at that time, and as all servant men begin\ntheir service then. I cross-examined him, without succeeding in any\nway in shaking his evidence. I should have been glad a few years ago\nto have come across this piece of information, or even Kelly's note,\nwhen I was discussing the Celtic year and trying to prove [136] that\nit began at the beginning of winter, with May-day as the beginning\nof its second half.\n\nOne of the characteristics of the beginning of the Celtic year with\nthe commencement of winter was the belief that indications can be\nobtained on the eve of that day regarding the events of the year; but\nwith the calendar year gaining ground it would be natural to expect\nthat the Calends of January would have some of the associations of the\nCalends of Winter transferred to them, and vice versa. In fact, this\ncan, as it were, be watched now going on in the Isle of Man. First,\nI may mention that the Manx mummers used to go about singing, in\nManx, a sort of Hogmanay song [137], reminding one of that usual in\nYorkshire and other parts of Great Britain, and now known to be of\nRomance origin [138]. The time for it in this country was New Year's\nEve, according to the ordinary calendar, but in the Isle of Man it\nhas always been Hollantide Eve, according to the Old Style, and this\nis the night when boys now go about continuing the custom of the old\nmummers. There is no hesitation in this case between Hollantide Eve\nand New Year's Eve. But with the prognostications for the year it\nis different, and the following practices have been usual. I may,\nhowever, premise that as a rule I have abstained from inquiring too\nclosely whether they still go on, but here and there I have had the\ninformation volunteered that they do.\n\n1. I may mention first a salt prognostication, which was described\nto me by a farmer in the north, whose wife practises it once a year\nregularly. She carefully fills a thimble with salt in the evening\nand upsets it in a neat little heap on a plate: she does that for\nevery member of the family, and every guest, too, if there happen to\nbe any. The plate is then left undisturbed till the morning, when\nshe examines the heaps of salt to see if any of them have fallen;\nfor whoever is found represented by a fallen heap will die during\nthe year. She does not herself, I am assured, believe in it, but she\nlikes to continue a custom which she has learned from her mother.\n\n2. Next may be mentioned the ashes being carefully swept to the\nopen hearth, and nicely flattened down by the women just before\ngoing to bed. In the morning they look for footmarks on the hearth,\nand if they find such footmarks directed towards the door, it means,\nin the course of the year, a death in the family, and if the reverse,\nthey expect an addition to it by marriage [139].\n\n3. Then there is an elaborate process of eavesdropping recommended\nto young women curious to know their future husbands' names: a girl\nwould go with her mouth full of water and her hands full of salt\nto the door of the nearest neighbour's house, or rather to that\nof the nearest neighbour but one--I have been carefully corrected\nmore than once on that point. There she would listen, and the first\nname she caught would prove to be that of her future husband. Once\na girl did so, as I was told by a blind fisherman in the south, and\nheard two brothers quarrelling inside the house at whose door she\nwas listening. Presently the young men's mother exclaimed that the\ndevil would not let Tom leave John alone. At the mention of that triad\nthe girl burst into the house, laughing and spilling the mouthful of\nwater most incontinently. The end of it was that before the year was\nout she married Tom, the second person mentioned: the first either\ndid not count or proved an unassailable bachelor.\n\n4. There is also a ritual for enabling a girl to obtain other\ninformation respecting her future husband: vessels placed about the\nroom have various things put into them, such as clean water, earth,\nmeal, a piece of a net, or any other article thought appropriate. The\ncandidate for matrimony, with her eyes bandaged, feels her way about\nthe house until she puts her hand in one of the aforesaid vessels. If\nwhat she lays her hand on is the clean water, her husband will be a\nhandsome man [140]; if it is the earth, he will be a farmer; if the\nmeal, a miller; if the net, a fisherman; and so on into as many of\nthe walks of life as may be thought worthy of consideration.\n\n5. Lastly, recourse may be had to a ritual of the same nature as that\nobserved by the druid of ancient Erin, when, burdened with a heavy\nmeal of the flesh of a red pig, he laid him down for the night in\norder to await a prophetic dream as to the manner of man the nobles of\nErin assembled at Tara were to elect to be their king. The incident\nis given in the story of C\u00fachulainn's Sick-bed; and the reader,\ndoubtless, knows the passage about Brian and the taghairm in the\nfourth Canto of Scott's Lady of the Lake. But the Manx girl has only\nto eat a salt herring, bones and all, without drinking or uttering\na word, and to retire backwards to bed. When she sleeps and dreams,\nshe will behold her future husband approaching to give her drink.\n\nProbably none of the practices which I have enumerated, or similar\nones mentioned to me, are in any sense peculiar to the Isle of Man;\nbut what interests me in them is the divided opinion as to the proper\nnight for them in the year. I am sorry to say that I have very\nlittle information as to the blindman's-buff ritual (No. 4); what\ninformation I have, to wit, the evidence of two persons in the south,\nfixes it on Hollantide Eve. But as to the others (Nos. 1, 2, 3, 5),\nthey are observed by some on that night, and by others on New Year's\nEve, sometimes according to the Old Style [141] and sometimes the\nNew. Further, those who are wont to practise the salt heap ritual,\nfor instance, on Hollantide Eve, would be very indignant to hear\nthat anybody should think New Year's Eve the proper night, and vice\nversa. So by bringing women bred and born in different parishes\nto compare notes on this point, I have witnessed arguing hardly\nless earnest than that which characterized the ancient controversy\nbetween British and Italian ecclesiastics as to the proper time for\nkeeping Easter. I have not been able to map the island according to\nthe practices prevalent at Hollantide and the beginning of January,\nbut local folklorists could probably do it without much difficulty. My\nimpression, however, is that January is gradually acquiring the upper\nhand. In Wales this must have been decidedly helped by the influence\nof Roman rule and Roman ideas; but even there the adjuncts of the\nWinter Calends have never been wholly transferred to the Calends\nof January. Witness, for instance, the women who used to congregate\nin the parish church to discover who of the parishioners would die\nduring the year [142]. That custom, in the neighbourhoods reported\nto have practised it, continued to attach itself to the last, so\nfar as I know, to the beginning of November. In the Isle of Man\nthe fact of the ancient Celtic year having so firmly held its own,\nseems to point to the probability that the year of the Pagan Norsemen\npretty nearly coincided with that of the Celts [143]. For there are\nreasons to think, as I have endeavoured elsewhere to show, that the\nNorse Yule was originally at the end of summer or the commencement\nof winter, in other words, the days afterwards known as the Feast\nof the Winter Nights. This was the favourite date in Iceland for\nlistening to soothsayers prophesying with regard to the winter then\nbeginning. The late Dr. Vigfusson had much to say on this subject,\nand how the local sibyl, resuming her elevated seat at the opening\nof each successive winter, gave the author of the Volosp\u00e1 his plan of\nthat remarkable poem, which has been described by the same authority\nas the highest spiritual effort of the heathen muse of the North.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nTHE FENODYREE AND HIS FRIENDS\n\n            Emoi de hai sai megalai eutychiai ouk areskousi,\n            to theion epistamen\u00f4 h\u00f4s esti phthoneron..--Herodotus.\n\n\nThe last chapter is hardly such as to call for a recapitulation of\nits principal contents, and I venture to submit instead of any such\nrepetition an abstract of some very pertinent notes on it by Miss\nM. G. W. Peacock, who compares with the folklore of the Isle of Man\nthe old beliefs which survive in Lincolnshire among the descendants\nof Norse ancestors [144]. She was attracted by the striking affinity\nwhich she noticed between them, and she is doubtless right in regarding\nthat affinity as due in no small degree to the Scandinavian element\npresent in the population alike of Man and the East of England. She\nis, however, not lavish of theory, but gives us interesting items of\ninformation from an intimate acquaintance with the folklore of the\ndistrict of which she undertakes to speak, somewhat in the following\norder:--\n\n1. Whether the water-bull still inhabits the streams of Lincolnshire\nshe regards as doubtful, but the deep pools formed, she says, by the\naction of the down-flowing water at the bends of the country becks\nare still known as bull-holes.\n\n2. As to the glashtyn, or water-horse, she remarks that the\ntatter-foal, tatter-colt, or shag-foal, as he is variously called,\nis still to be heard of, although his visits take place less often\nthan before the fens and carrs were drained and the open fields and\ncommons enclosed. She describes the tatter-foal as a goblin of the\nshape and appearance of a small horse or yearling foal in his rough,\nunkempt coat. He beguiles lonely travellers with his numberless tricks,\none of which is to lure them to a stream, swamp, or water-hole. When\nhe has succeeded he vanishes with a long outburst of mockery, half\nneigh, half human laughter.\n\n3. The fenodyree, one is told, has in Lincolnshire a cousin, but he\nis diminutive; and, like the Yorkshire Hob or Robin Round-Cap, and the\nDanish Niss, he is used to befriend the house in which he dwells. The\nstory of his driving the farmer's sheep home is the same practically\nas in the Isle of Man, even to the point of bringing in with them the\nlittle grey sheep, as he called the fine hare that had given him more\ntrouble than all the rest of the flock: see pp. 286-7 above.\n\n4. The story of this manikin's clothing differs considerably from\nthat of the fenodyree. The farmer gives him in gratitude for his\nservices a linen shirt every New Year's Eve; and this went on for\nyears, until at last the farmer thought a hemp shirt was good enough\nto give him. When the clock struck twelve at midnight the manikin\nraised an angry wail, saying:--\n\n\n            Harden, harden, harden hemp!\n            I will neither grind nor stamp!\n            Had you given me linen gear,\n            I would have served you many a year!\n\n\nHe was no more seen or heard: he vanished for ever. The Cornish\ncounterpart of this brownie reasons in the opposite way; for when,\nin gratitude for his help in threshing, a new suit of clothes is\ngiven him, he hurries away, crying [145]:--\n\n\n            Pisky new coat, and pisky new hood,\n            Pisky now will do no more good.\n\n\nHere, also, one should compare William Nicholson's account of the\nbrownie of Blednoch [146], in Galloway, who wore next to no clothing:--\n\n\n            Roun' his hairy form there was naething seen,\n            But a philabeg o' the rushes green.\n\n\nSo he was driven away for ever by a newly married wife wishing him\nto wear an old pair of her husband's breeches:--\n\n\n            But a new-made wife, fu' o' rippish freaks,\n            Fond o' a' things feat for the first five weeks,\n            Laid a mouldy pair o' her ain man's breeks\n                  By the brose o' Aiken-drum.\n\n            Let the learned decide, when they convene,\n            What spell was him and the breeks between:\n            For frae that day forth he was nae mair seen,\n                  And sair missed was Aiken-drum!\n\n\nThe only account which I have been able to find of a Welsh counterpart\nwill be found in Bwca'r Trwyn, in chapter x: he differs in some\nimportant respects from the fenodyree and the brownie.\n\n5. A twig of the rowan tree, or wicken, as it is called, was effective\nagainst all evil things, including witches. It is useful in many ways\nto guard the welfare of the household, and to preserve both the live\nstock and the crops, while placed on the churn it prevents any malign\ninfluence from retarding the coming of the butter. I may remark that\nCelts and Teutons seem to have been generally pretty well agreed\nas to the virtues of the rowan tree. Bits of iron also are lucky\nagainst witches.\n\n6. Fairies are rare, but witches and wizards abound, and some of them\nhave been supposed to change themselves into dogs to worry sheep and\ncattle, or into toads to poison the swine's troughs. But they do not\nseem to change themselves into hares, as in Man and other Celtic lands.\n\n7. Witchcraft, says Miss Peacock, is often hereditary, passing most\nfrequently from mother to daughter; but when a witch has no daughter\nher power may appear in a son, and then revert to the female line. This\nappears far more natural than the Manx belief in its passing from\nfather to daughter and from daughter to son. But another kind of\nsuccession is mentioned in the Welsh Triads, i. 32, ii. 20, iii. 90,\nwhich speak of Math ab Mathonwy teaching his magic to Gwydion,\nwho as his sister's son was to succeed him in his kingdom; and of a\ncertain Rhudlwm Dwarf teaching his magic to Coll, son of Collfrewi,\nhis nephew. Both instances seem to point to a state of society which\ndid not reckon paternity but only birth.\n\n8. Only three years previous to Miss Peacock's writing an old man died,\nshe says, who had seen blood drawn from a witch because she had, as\nwas supposed, laid a spell on a team of horses: as soon as she was\nstruck so as to bleed the horses and their load were free to go on\ntheir way again. Possibly no equally late instance could be specified\nin the Isle of Man: see p. 296 above.\n\n9. Traces of animal sacrifice may still be found in Lincolnshire,\nfor the heart of a small beast, or of a bird, is necessary, Miss\nPeacock says, for the efficient performance of several counter-charms,\nespecially in torturing a witch by the reversal of her spells, and\nwarding off evil from houses or other buildings. Apparently Miss\nPeacock has not heard of so considerable a victim as a sheep or a\ncalf being sacrificed, as in the Isle of Man, but the objects of the\nsacrifices may be said to be the same.\n\n10. Several pin and rag wells are said to exist in Lincolnshire,\ntheir waters being supposed to possess healing virtues, especially\nas regards eye ailments.\n\n11. Love-spells and prognostications are mentioned, some of them as\nbelonging to Allhallows, as they do partly in the Isle of Man: she\nmentions the making of dumb cake, and the eating of the salt herring,\nfollowed by dreams of the future husband bringing the thirsting\nlass drink in a jug, the quality of which indicates the bearer's\nposition in life. But other Lincolnshire practices of the kind seem\nto oscillate between Allhallows and St. Mark's Eve, while gravitating\ndecidedly towards the latter date. Here it is preferable to give Miss\nPeacock's own words:--'Professor Rhys' mention of the footmark in the\nashes reminds me of a love-spell current in the Wapentake of Manley in\nNorth Lincolnshire. Properly speaking, it should be put in practice\non St. Mark's E'en, that eerie spring-tide festival when those who\nare skilled may watch the church porch and learn who will die in the\nensuing twelvemonth; but there is little doubt that the charm is also\nused at Hallow E'en, and at other suitable seasons of the year. The\nspell consists in riddling ashes on the hearthstone, or beans on the\nfloor of the barn, with proper ceremonies and at the proper time,\nwith the result that the girl who works her incantation correctly\nfinds the footprint of the man she is to marry clearly marked on the\nsifted mass the following morning. It is to be supposed that the spirit\nof the lover is responsible for the mark, as, according to another\nfolk-belief, any girl who watches her supper on St. Mark's E'en will\nsee the spirit of the man she will wed come into the room at midnight\nto partake of the food provided. The room must be one with the door\nand windows in different walls, and both must be open. The spirit\ncomes in by the door (and goes out by the window?). Each girl who\nundertakes to keep watch must have a separate supper and a separate\ncandle, and all talking is to end before the clock goes twelve,\nfor there must not be any speaking before the spirits. From these\nsuperstitions, and from the generally received idea that the spirits\nof all the parishioners are to be observed entering the church on\nSt. Mark's E'en, it may be inferred that the Manx footprint is made\nby the wraith of the person doomed to death.' Compare pp. 318-9 above.\n\nWhat Miss Peacock alludes to as watching the church porch was formerly\nwell known in Wales [147], and may be illustrated from a district so\nfar east as the Golden Valley, in Herefordshire, by the following\nstory told me in 1892 by Mrs. Powell of Dorstone, on the strength\nof what she had learnt from her mother-in-law, the late Mrs. Powell,\nwho was a native of that parish:--\n\n'On Allhallows Eve at midnight, those who are bold enough to look\nthrough the church windows will see the building lighted with an\nunearthly light, and the pulpit occupied by his Satanic majesty clothed\nin a monk's habit. Dreadful anathemas are the burden of his preaching,\nand the names of those who in the coming year are to render up their\nsouls may be heard by those who have courage to listen. A notorious\nevil liver, Jack of France, once by chance passed the church at this\nawful moment: looking in he saw the lights and heard the voice, and\nhis own name in the horrid list; and, according to some versions of\nthe story, he went home to die of fright. Others say that he repented\nand died in good repute, and so cheated the evil one of his prey.'\n\nI have no list of places in Wales and its marches which have this\nsort of superstition associated with them, but it is my impression\nthat they are mostly referred to Allhallows, as at Dorstone, and that\nwhere that is not the case they have been shifted to the beginning\nof the year as at present reckoned; for in Celtic lands, at least,\nthey seem to have belonged to what was reckoned the beginning of the\nyear. The old Celtic year undoubtedly began at Allhallows, and the day\nnext in importance after the Calends of Winter (in Welsh Calang\u00e1eaf)\nwas, among the Celts, the beginning of the summer half of the year,\nor the Calends of May (in Welsh Cal\u00e1nmai), which St. Mark's Eve\napproaches too nearly for us to regard it as accidental. With this\nmodified agreement between the Lincolnshire date and the Celtic one\ncontrast the irreconcilable English date of St. John's Eve; and see\nTylor's Primitive Culture, i. 440, where one reads as follows of 'the\nwell-known superstition,' 'that fasting watchers on St. John's Eve\nmay see the apparitions of those doomed to die during the year come\nwith the clergyman to the church door and knock; these apparitions\nare spirits who come forth from their bodies, for the minister has\nbeen noticed to be much troubled in his sleep while his phantom was\nthus engaged, and when one of a party of watchers fell into a sound\nsleep and could not be roused, the others saw his apparition knock\nat the church door.' With an unerring instinct for the intelligent\ncolligation of facts, Miss Peacock finds the nearest approach to the\nyearly review of the moritures, if I may briefly so call them, in the\nwraith's footprint in the ashes. Perhaps a more systematic examination\nof Manx folklore may result in the discovery of a more exact parallel.\n\nFor want of knowing where else to put it, I may mention here in\nreference to the dead, a passage which has been copied for me by\nmy friend Mr. Gwenogvryn Evans, from Manuscript 163 in the Peniarth\nCollection. I understand it to be of the earlier part of the sixteenth\ncentury, and p. 10 has the following passage:--\n\nYn yr ynys honn [Manaw] y kair gweled liw dyd bobyl a vvessynt veirw /\nRrai gwedi tori penav / eraill gwedi torri i haelode / Ac os dieithred\na dissyfynt i gweled hwynt / Sengi ar draed gwyr or tir ac velly\nhwynt a gaent weled yr hyn a welssynt hwyntav.\n\n'In this island [Man] one beholds in the light of day people who have\ndied, some with their heads cut off and others with their limbs cut\noff. And if strangers desire to see them, they have to stand on the\nfeet of the natives of the land, and in that way they would see what\nthe latter had seen.'\n\nA similar instance of the virtue of standing on the feet of another\nperson has been mentioned in reference to the farmer of Deunant, at\np. 230 above; the foot, however, on which he had to stand in order\nto get a glimpse of the fairy world, was a fairy's own foot.\n\nLastly, the passage in the Peniarth Manuscript has something more to\nsay of the Isle of Man, as follows:--\n\nMawr oed arfer o swynion a chyvaredion gynt yn yr ynys honn / Kanys\ngwraged a vydynt yno yn gwnevthvr gwynt i longwyr gwedir gav mewn tri\nchwlm o edav aphan vai eissie gwynt arnynt dattod kwlm or edav anaynt.\n\n'Great was the practice formerly of spells and sorceries in this\nisland; for there used to be there women making wind for sailors,\nwhich wind they confined within three knots made on a thread. And\nwhen they had need of wind they would undo a knot of the thread.'\n\nThis was written in the sixteenth century, and based probably\non Higden's Polychronicon, book I, chap. xliv. (= I. 42-3), but\nthe same practice of wind making goes on to this day, one of the\nprincipal practitioners being the woman to whom reference was made\nat p. 299. She is said to tie the breezes in so many knots which\nshe makes on the purchasing sailor's pocket-handkerchief. This\nreminds one of the sibyl of Warinsey, or the Island of Guernsey,\nwho is represented by an ancient Norse poet as 'fashioning false\nprophecies.' See Vigfusson and Powell's Corpus Poeticum Boreale,\ni. 136; also Mela's first-century account of the virgins of the island\nof Sena, which runs to the following effect:--'Sena, in the Britannic\nSea, opposite the coast of the Osismi, is famous for its oracle of a\nGaulish god, whose priestesses, living in the holiness of perpetual\nvirginity, are said to be nine in number. They call them Gallizen\u00e6,\nand they believe them to be endowed with extraordinary gifts to rouse\nthe sea and the wind by their incantations, to turn themselves into\nwhatsoever animal form they may choose, to cure diseases which among\nothers are incurable, to know what is to come and to foretell it. They\nare, however, devoted to the service of voyagers only who have set out\non no other errand than to consult them [148].' It is probable that\nthe sacrosanct [149] inhabitants of the small islands on the coasts of\nGaul and Britain had wellnigh a monopoly of the traffic in wind [150].\n\nIn the last chapter I made allusion to several wells of greater or less\ncelebrity in the Isle of Man; but I find that I have a few remarks to\nadd. Mr. Arthur Moore, in his book on Manx Surnames and Place-Names,\np. 200, mentions a Chibber Unjin, which means the Well of the Ash-tree,\nand he states that there grew near it 'formerly a sacred ash-tree,\nwhere votive offerings were hung.' The ash-tree calls to his mind\nScandinavian legends respecting the ash, but in any case one may\nsuppose the ash was not the usual tree to expect by a well in the Isle\nof Man, otherwise this one would scarcely have been distinguished as\nthe Ash-tree Well. The tree to expect by a sacred well is doubtless\nsome kind of thorn, as in the case of Chibber Undin in the parish of\nMalew. The name means Foundation Well, so called in reference probably\nto the foundations of an ancient cell, or keeill as it is called in\nManx, which lie close by, and are found to measure twenty-one feet\nlong by twelve feet broad. The following is Mr. Moore's account of\nthe well in his book already cited, p. 181:--'The water of this well\nis supposed to have curative properties. The patients who came to it,\ntook a mouthful of water, retaining it in their mouths till they had\ntwice walked round the well. They then took a piece of cloth from a\ngarment which they had worn, wetted it with the water from the well,\nand hung it on the hawthorn tree which grew there. When the cloth\nhad rotted away, the cure was supposed to be effected.'\n\nI visited the spot a few years ago in the company of the\nRev. E. B. Savage of St. Thomas' Parsonage, Douglas, and we found\nthe well nearly dried up in consequence of the drainage of the field\naround it; but the remains of the old cell were there, and the thorn\nbush had strips of cloth or calico tied to its branches. We cut off\none, which is now in the Pitt-Rivers Museum at Oxford. The account\nMr. Savage had of the ritual observed at the well differed a little\nfrom that given by Mr. Moore, especially in the fact that it made the\npatient who had been walking round the well with water from the well\nin his mouth, empty that water finally into a rag from his clothing:\nthe rag was then tied to a branch of the thorn. It does not appear that\nthe kind of tree mattered much; nay, a tree is not, it seems to me,\nessential. At any rate, St. Maughold's Well has no tree growing near\nit now; but it is right to say, that when Mr. Kermode and I visited\nit, we could find no rags left near the spot, nor indeed could we\nexpect to find any, as there was nothing to which they might be tied\non that windy headland. The absence of the tree does not, however,\nprove that the same sort of ritual was not formerly observed at\nSt. Maughold's Well as at Chibber Undin; and here I must mention\nanother well which I have visited in the island more than once. It\nis on the side of Bradda Hill, a little above the village of Bradda,\nand in the direction of Fleshwick: I was attracted to it by the fact\nthat it had, as I had been told by Mr. Savage, formerly an old cell\nor keeill near it, and the name of the saint to which it belonged may\nprobably be gathered from the name of the well, which, in the Manx of\nthe south of the island, is Chibbyrt Valtane, pronounced approximately\nChuvurt Volt\u00e1ne or Old\u00e1ne. The personal name would be written in\nmodern Manx in its radical form as Boltane, and if it occurred in\nthe genitive in Ogam inscriptions I should expect to find it written\nBoltagni or Baltagni [151]. It is, however, unknown to me, though to\nbe placed possibly by the side of the name of the saint after whom the\nparish of Santon is called in the south-east of the island. This is\npronounced in Manx approximately [152] Santane or Sandane, and would\nhave yielded an early inscriptional nominative SANCTANVS, which,\nin fact, occurs on an old stone near Llandudno on the Welsh coast:\nsee some notes of mine in point in the Arch\u00e6ologia Cambrensis, 1897,\npp. 140-2. To return to the well, it would seem to have been associated\nwith an old cell, but it has no tree growing by. Mr. Savage and I were\ntold, nevertheless, that a boy who had searched the well a short time\npreviously had got some coins out of it, quite recent ones, consisting\nof halfpennies or pennies, so far as I remember. On my observing to\none of the neighbours that I saw no rags there, I was assured that\nthere had been some; and, on my further saying that I saw no tree\nthere to which they could be tied, I was told that they used to be\nattached to the brambles, which grew there in great abundance. Thus\nit appears that, in the Isle of Man at any rate, a tree to bear the\nrags was not an essential adjunct of a holy well.\n\nBefore leaving these well superstitions the reader may wish to know\nhow they were understood in Ireland not long ago: so I venture to\nquote a passage from a letter by the late Mr. W. C. Borlase on Rag\nOfferings and Primitive Pilgrimages in Ireland, as follows:--\n\n'Among the MSS. of the late Mr. Windele, of Cork, ... I find a passage\nwhich cannot fail to interest students of folk-lore. It relates to the\ncustom of affixing shreds of rag to the hawthorn tree, which almost\ninvariably stands by the brink of the typical Irish \"holy well,\" and\nit gives us the meaning of the custom as understood, some half-century\nsince, by the inhabitants of certain localities in the province of\nMunster. The idea is, says the writer, that the putting up these rags\nis a putting away of the evils impending or incurred by sin, an act\naccompanied by the following ritual words: Air impide an Tiarna mo\nchuid teinis do fhagaint air an ait so; i. e. By the intercession of\nthe Lord I leave my portion of illness on this place. These words, he\nadds, should be uttered by whoever performs the round, and they are,\nno doubt, of extreme antiquity. Mr. Windele doubtless took down the\nwords as he heard them locally pronounced, though, to be correct, for\nTiarna should be read Tigerna; for teinis, tinneas; and for fhagaint,\nfhagaim [153].'\n\nFrom the less known saints Boltane and Santane I wish to pass to the\nmention of a more famous one, namely, St. Catherine, and this because\nof a fair called after her, and held on the sixth day of December at\nthe village of Colby in the south of the island. When I heard of this\nfair in 1888, it was in temporary abeyance on account of a lawsuit\nrespecting the plot of ground on which the fair is wont to be held;\nbut I was told that it usually begins with a procession, in which a\nlive hen is carried about: this is called St. Catherine's hen. The next\nday the hen is carried about dead and plucked, and a rhyme pronounced\nat a certain point in the proceedings contemplates the burial of the\nhen, but whether that ever takes place I know not. It runs thus:--\n\n\n                Kiark Catrina marroo:\n                Gows yn kione as goyms ny cassyn,\n                As ver mayd ee fo'n thalloo.\n\n                Catherine's hen is dead:\n                The head take thou and I the feet,\n                We shall put her under the ground.\n\n\nA man who is found to be not wholly sober after the fair is locally\nsaid to have plucked a feather from the hen (T'eh er goaill fedjag\nass y chiark); so it would seem that there must be such a scramble to\nget at the hen, and to take part in the plucking, that it requires\na certain amount of drink to allay the thirst of the over zealous\ndevotees of St. Catherine. But why should this ceremony be associated\nwith St. Catherine? and what were the origin and meaning of it? These\nare questions on which I should be glad to have light shed.\n\nManx has a word quaail (Irish comhdh\u00e1il), meaning a 'meeting,' and\nfrom it we have a derivative quaaltagh or qualtagh, meaning, according\nto Kelly's Dictionary, 'the first person or creature one meets going\nfrom home,' whereby the author can have only meant the first met by\none who is going from home. Kelly goes on to add that 'this person is\nof great consequence to the superstitious, particularly to women the\nfirst time they go out after lying-in.' Cregeen, in his Dictionary,\ndefines the qualtagh as 'the first person met on New Year's Day,\nor on going on some new work, &c.' Before proceeding to give the\nsubstance of my notes on the qualtagh of the present day I may as\nwell finish with Cregeen, for he adds the following information:--'A\ncompany of young lads or men generally went in old times on what they\ntermed the qualtagh, at Christmas or New Year's Day, to the houses\nof their more wealthy neighbours; some one of the company repeating\nin an audible voice the following rhyme:--\n\n\n            Ollick ghennal erriu as ble\u00efn feer vie,\n            Seihll as slaynt da'n slane lught thie;\n            Bea as gennallys en bio ry-cheilley,\n            Shee as graih eddyr mrane as deiney;\n            Cooid as cowryn, stock as stoyr,\n            Palchey phuddase, as skaddan dy-liooar,\n            Arran as caashey, eeym as roayrt;\n            Baase, myr lugh, ayns uhllin ny soalt;\n            Cadley sauchey tra vees shiu ny lhie,\n            As feeackle y jargan, nagh bee dy mie.'\n\n\nIt may be loosely translated as follows:--\n\n\n            A merry Christmas, a happy new year,\n            Long life and health to all the household here.\n            Food and mirth to you dwelling together,\n            Peace and love to all, men and women;\n            Wealth and distinction, stock and store,\n            Potatoes enough, and herrings galore;\n            Bread and cheese, butter and gravy;\n            Die like a mouse in a barn or haggard;\n            In safety sleep while you lie to rest,\n            And by the flea's tooth be not distressed.\n\n\nAt present New Year's Day is the time when the qualtagh is of general\ninterest, and in this case he is, outside the members of one's own\nhousehold, practically the first person one sees on the morning of\nthat day, whether that person meets one out of doors or comes to\none's house. The following is what I have learnt by inquiry as to\nthe qualtagh: all are agreed that he must not be a woman or girl,\nand that he must not be spaagagh or splay footed, while a woman from\nthe parish of Marown told me that he must not have red hair. The\nprevalent belief, however, is that he should be a dark haired man\nor boy, and it is of no consequence how rough his appearance may be,\nprovided he be black haired. However, I was told by one man in Rushen\nthat the qualtagh or 'first-foot' need not be a black haired person:\nhe must be a man or boy. But this less restricted view is not the one\nheld in the central and northern parts of the island, so far as I could\nascertain. An English lady living in the neighbourhood of Castletown\ntold me that her son, whom I know to be, like his mother, a blond,\nnot being aware what consequences might be associated with his visit,\ncalled at a house in Castletown on the morning of New Year's Day, and\nhe chanced to be the qualtagh. The mistress of the house was horrified,\nand expressed to the English lady her anticipation of misfortunes; and\nas it happened that one of the children of the house died in the course\nof the year, the English lady has been reminded of it since. Naturally\nthe association of these events are not pleasant to her; but, so far\nas I can remember, they date only some eight or nine years ago [154].\n\nBy way of bringing Wales into comparison with Man, I may mention\nthat, when I was a very small boy, I used to be sent very early on\nNew Year's morning to call on an old uncle of mine, because, as I\nwas told, I should be certain to receive a calennig or a calends'\ngift from him, but on no account would my sister be allowed to go,\nas he would only see a boy on such an occasion as that. I do not\nrecollect anything being said as to the colour of one's hair or the\nshape of one's foot; but that sort of negative evidence is of very\nlittle value, as the qualtagh was fast passing out of consideration.\n\nThe preference here given to a boy over a girl looks like one of the\nwidely spread superstitions which rule against the fair sex; but, as\nto the colour of the hair, I should be predisposed to think that it\npossibly rests on racial antipathy, long ago forgotten; for it might\nperhaps be regarded as going back to a time when the dark haired\nrace reckoned the Aryan of fair complexion as his natural enemy,\nthe very sight of whom brought with it thoughts calculated to make\nhim unhappy and despondent. If this idea proved to be approximately\ncorrect, one might suggest that the racial distinction in question\nreferred to the struggles between the inhabitants of Man and their\nScandinavian conquerors; but to my thinking it is just as likely that\nit goes much further back.\n\nLastly, what is one to say with regard to the spaagagh or splay footed\nperson, now more usually defined as flat footed or having no instep? I\nhave heard it said in the south of the island that it is unlucky to\nmeet a spaagagh in the morning at any time of the year, and not on New\nYear's Day alone; but this does not help us in the attempt to find\nthe genesis of this belief. If it were said that it was unlucky to\nmeet a deformed person, it would look somewhat more natural; but why\nfix on the flat footed especially? For my part I have not been trained\nto distinguish flat footed people, so I do not recollect noticing any\nin the Isle of Man; but, granting there may be a small proportion of\nsuch people in the island, does it not seem strange that they should\nhave their importance so magnified as this superstition would seem\nto imply? I must confess that I cannot understand it, unless we have\nhere also some supposed racial characteristic, let us say greatly\nexaggerated. To explain myself I should put it that the non-Aryan\naborigines were a small people of great agility and nimbleness, and\nthat their Aryan conquerors moved more slowly and deliberately, whence\nthe former, of springier movements, might come to nickname the latter\nthe flat footed. It is even conceivable that there was some amount of\nfoundation for it in fact. If I might speak from my own experience,\nI might mention a difficulty I have often had with shoes of English\nmake, namely, that I have always found them, unless made to measure,\napt to have their instep too low for me. It has never occurred to me to\nbuy ready-made shoes in France or Germany, but I know a lady as Welsh\nas I am, who has often bought shoes in France, and her experience is,\nthat it is much easier for her to get shoes there to fit her than\nin England, and for the very reason which I have already suggested,\nnamely, that the instep in English shoes is lower than in French ones.\n\nAgain, I may mention that one day last term [155], having to address a\nmeeting of Welsh undergraduates on folklore, I ventured to introduce\nthis question. They agreed with me that English shoes did not,\nas a rule, fit Welsh feet, and this because they are made too low\nin the instep: I ought to have said that they all agreed except one\nundergraduate, who held his peace. He is a tall man, powerful in the\nfootball field, but of no dark complexion, and I have never dared\nto look in the direction of his feet since, lest he should catch\nme carrying my comparisons to cruel extremes. Perhaps the flatness\nof the feet of the one race is not emphasized so much as the height\nof the instep in those of the other. At any rate I find this way of\nlooking at the question somewhat countenanced by a journalist who\nrefers his readers to Wm. Henderson's notes on the Folklore of the\nNorthern Counties, p. 74. The passage relates more particularly to\nNorthumberland, and runs as follows:--'In some districts, however,\nspecial weight is attached to the \"first-foot\" being that of a\nperson with a high-arched instep, a foot that \"water runs under.\" A\nflat-footed person would bring great ill-luck for the coming year.'\n\nThese instances do not warrant the induction that Celts are higher\nin the instep than Teutons, and that they have inherited that\ncharacteristic from the non-Aryan element in their ancestry. Perhaps\nthe explanation is, at least in part, that the dwellers in hilly\nregions tend to be more springy and to have higher insteps than\nthe inhabitants of flatter lands. The statement of Dr. Karl Blind\non this point does not help one to a decision when he speaks as\nfollows in Folk-Lore for 1892, p. 89:--'As to the instep, I can speak\nfrom personal experience. Almost every German finds that an English\nshoemaker makes his boots not high enough in the instep. The northern\nGermans (I am from the south) have perhaps slightly flatter feet than\nthe southern Germans.' The first part of the comparison is somewhat\nof a surprise to me, but not so the other part, that the southern\nGermans inhabiting a hillier country, and belonging to a different\nrace, may well be higher in the instep than the more northern speakers\nof the German language. But on the whole the more one examines the\nqualtagh, the less clearly one sees how he can be the representative\nof a particular race. More data possibly would enable one to arrive\nat greater probability.\n\nThere is one other question which I should like to ask before leaving\nthe qualtagh, namely, as to the relation of the custom of New Year's\ngifts to the belief in the qualtagh. I have heard it related in\nthe Isle of Man that women have been known to keep indoors on New\nYear's Day until the qualtagh comes, which sometimes means their being\nprisoners for the greater part of the day, in order to avoid the risk\nof first meeting one who is not of the right sex and complexion. On the\nother hand, when the qualtagh is of the right description, considerable\nfuss is made of him; to say the least, he has to accept food and drink,\npossibly more permanent gifts. Thus a tall, black haired native of\nKirk Michael described to me how he chanced on New Year's Day, years\nago, to turn into a lonely cottage in order to light his pipe, and\nhow he found he was the qualtagh: he had to sit down to have food,\nand when he went away it was with a present and the blessings of\nthe family. Now New Year's Day is the time for gifts in Wales, as\nshown by the name for them, calennig, which is derived from calan,\nthe Welsh form of the Latin calend\u00e6, New Year's Day being in Welsh\nY Calan, 'the Calends.' The same is the day for gifts in Scotland\nand in Ireland, except in so far as Christmas boxes have been making\ninroads from England: I need not add that the Jour de l'An is the\nday for gifts also in France. My question then is this: Is there any\nessential connexion of origin between the institution of New Year's\nDay gifts and the belief in the first-foot?\n\nNow that it has been indicated what sort of a qualtagh it is unlucky\nto have, I may as well proceed to mention the other things which I\nhave heard treated as unlucky in the island. Some of them scarcely\nrequire to be noticed, as there is nothing specially Manx about them,\nsuch as the belief that it is unlucky to have the first glimpse of the\nnew moon through glass. That is a superstition which is, I believe,\nwidely spread, and, among other countries, it is quite familiar in\nWales, where it is also unlucky to see the moon for the first time\nthrough a hedge or over a house. What this means I cannot guess,\nunless it be that it was once considered one's duty to watch the first\nappearance of the new moon from the highest point in the landscape\nof the district in which one dwelt. Such a point would in that case\nbecome the chief centre of a moon worship now lost in oblivion.\n\nIt is believed in Man, as it used to be in Wales and Ireland, that\nit is unlucky to disturb antiquities, especially old burial places\nand old churches. This superstition is unfortunately passing away\nin all three countries, but you still hear of it, especially in the\nIsle of Man, mostly after mischief has been done. Thus a good Manx\nscholar told me how a relative of his in the Ronnag, a small valley\nnear South Barrule, had carted away the earth from an old burial\nground on his farm and used it as manure for his fields, and how his\nbeasts died afterwards. The narrator said he did not know whether\nthere was any truth in it, but everybody believed that it was the\nreason why the cattle died; and so did the farmer himself at last:\nso he desisted from completing his disturbance of the old site. It\nis possibly for a similar reason that a house in ruins is seldom\npulled down, or the materials used for other buildings. Where that has\nbeen done misfortunes have ensued; at any rate, I have heard it said\nso more than once. I ought to have stated that the non-disturbance\nof antiquities in the island is quite consistent with their being\nnow and then shamefully neglected as elsewhere. This is now met by\nan excellent statute recently enacted by the House of Keys for the\npreservation of the public monuments of the island.\n\nOf the other and more purely Manx superstitions I may mention\none which obtains among the Peel fishermen of the present day:\nno boat is willing to be third in the order of sailing out from\nPeel harbour to the fisheries. So it sometimes happens that after\ntwo boats have departed, the others remain watching each other for\ndays, each hoping that somebody else may be reckless enough to break\nthrough the invisible barrier of 'bad luck.' I have often asked for\nan explanation of this superstition, but the only intelligible answer\nI have had was that it has been observed that the third boat has done\nbadly several years in succession; but I am unable to ascertain how\nfar that represents the fact. Another of the unlucky things is to\nhave a white stone in the boat, even in the ballast, and for that I\nnever could get any explanation at all; but there is no doubt as to\nthe fact of this superstition, and I may illustrate it from the case\nof a clergyman's son on the west side, who took it into his head to\ngo out with some fishermen several days in succession. They chanced\nto be unsuccessful each time, and they gave their Jonah the nickname\nof Clagh Vane, or 'White Stone.' Now what can be the origin of this\ntabu? It seems to me that if the Manx had once a habit of adorning the\ngraves of the departed with white stones, that circumstance would be\na reasonable explanation of the superstition in question. Further,\nit is quite possible they did, and here Manx arch\u00e6ologists could\nprobably help as to the matter of fact. In the absence, however,\nof information to the point from Man, I take the liberty of citing\nsome relating to Scotland. It comes from Mr. Gomme's presidential\naddress to the Folk-Lore Society: see Folk-Lore for 1893, pp. 13-4:--\n\n'Near Inverary, it is the custom among the fisher-folk, and has been\nso within the memory of the oldest, to place little white stones or\npebbles on the graves of their friends. No reason is now given for\nthe practice, beyond that most potent and delightful of all reasons\nin the minds of folk-lore students, namely, that it has always been\ndone. Now there is nothing between this modern practice sanctioned\nby traditional observance and the practice of the stone-age people\nin the same neighbourhood and in others, as made known to us by their\ngrave-relics. Thus, in a cairn at Achnacrie opened by Dr. Angus Smith,\non entering the innermost chamber \"the first thing that struck the eye\nwas a row of quartz pebbles larger than a walnut; these were arranged\non the ledge of the lower granite block of the east side.\" Near Crinan,\nat Duncraigaig and at Rudie, the same characteristic was observed,\nand Canon Greenwell, who examined the cairns, says the pebbles \"must\nhave been placed there with some intention, and probably possessed a\nsymbolic meaning.\"' See also Burghead, by Mr. H. W. Young (Inverness,\n1899), p. 10, where we read that at Burghead the 'smooth white pebbles,\nsometimes five or seven of them, but never more,' have been usually\narranged as crosses on the graves which he has found under the fallen\nramparts. Can this be a Christian superstition with the white stones\nof the Apocalypse as its foundation?\n\nHere I may mention a fact which I do not know where else to put,\nnamely, that a fisherman on his way in the morning to the fishing,\nand chancing to pass by the cottage of another fisherman who is not\non friendly terms with him, will pluck a straw from the thatch of the\nlatter's dwelling. Thereby he is supposed to rob him of his luck in the\nfishing for that day. One would expect to learn that the straw from\nthe thatch served as the subject of an incantation directed against\nthe owner of the thatch. I have never heard anything suggested to\nthat effect; but I conclude that the plucking of the straw is only\na partial survival of what was once a complete ritual for bewitching\none's neighbour, unless getting possession of the straw was supposed\nto carry with it possession of everything belonging to the other man,\nincluding his luck in fishing for that day.\n\nOwing to my ignorance as to the superstitions of other fishermen than\nthose of the Isle of Man, I will not attempt to classify the remaining\ninstances to be mentioned, such as the unluckiness of mentioning a\nhorse or a mouse on board a fishing-boat: I seem, however, to have\nheard of similar tabus among Scottish fishermen; and, according to\nDr. Blind, Shetland fishermen will not mention a church or a clergyman\nwhen out at sea, but use quite other names for both when on board a\nship (Folk-Lore for 1892, p. 89). Novices in the Manx fisheries have\nto learn not to point to anything with one finger: they have to point\nwith the whole hand or not at all. This looks as if it belonged to a\ncode of rules as to the use of the hand, such as prevail among the\nNeapolitans and other peoples whose chief article of faith is the\nbelief in malign influences: see Mr. Elworthy's volume on The Evil Eye.\n\nWhether the Manx are alone in thinking it unlucky to lend salt from one\nboat to another when they are engaged in the fishing, I know not: such\nlending would probably be inconvenient, but why it should be unlucky,\nas they believe it to be, does not appear. The first of May is a day\non which it is unlucky to lend anything, and especially to give anyone\nfire [156]. This looks as if it pointed back to some druidic custom of\nlighting all fires at that time from a sacred hearth, but, so far as is\nknown, this only took place at the beginning of the other half-year,\nnamely, Sauin or Allhallows, which is sometimes rendered into Manx as\nLaa 'll mooar ny Saintsh, 'the Day of the great Feast of the Saints.'\n\nLastly, I may mention that it is unlucky to say that you are very well:\nat any rate, I infer that it is regarded so, as you will never get a\nManxman to say that he is feer vie, 'very well.' He usually admits that\nhe is 'middling'; and if by any chance he risks a stronger adjective,\nhe hastens to qualify it by adding 'now,' or 'just now,' with an\nemphasis indicative of his anxiety not to say too much. His habits\nof speech point back to a time when the Manx mind was dominated by\nthe fear of awaking malignant influences in the spirit world around\nhim. This has had the effect of giving the Manx peasant's character\na tinge of reserve and suspicion, which makes it difficult to gain\nhis confidence: his acquaintance has, therefore, to be cultivated\nfor some time before you can say that you know the workings of his\nheart. The pagan belief in a Nemesis has doubtless passed away, but not\nwithout materially affecting the Manx idea of a personal devil. Ever\nsince the first allusion made in my hearing by Manxmen to the devil,\nI have been more and more deeply impressed that for them the devil\nis a much more formidable being than Englishmen or Welshmen picture\nhim. He is a graver and, if I may say so, a more respectable being,\nallowing no liberties to be taken with his name, so you had better\nnot call him a devil, the evil one, or like names, for his proper\ndesignation is Noid ny Hanmey, 'the Enemy of the Soul,' and in ordinary\nAnglo-Manx conversation he is commonly called 'the Enemy of Souls.' I\nwell remember getting one day into a conversation with an old soldier\nin the south of the island. He was, as I soon discovered, labouring\nunder a sort of theological monomania, and his chief question was\nconcerning the Welsh word for 'the Enemy of Souls.' I felt at once\nthat I had to be careful, and that the reputation of my countrymen\ndepended on how I answered. As I had no name anything like the one he\nused for the devil, I explained to him that the Welsh, though not a\ngreat nation, were great students of theology, and that they had by\nno means neglected the great branch of it known as satanology. In\nfact that study, as I went on to say, had left its impress on the\nWelsh language: on Sunday the ministers of all denominations, the\ndeacons and elders, and all self-respecting congregations spoke of the\ndevil trisyllabically as diafol, while on the other days of the week\neverybody called him more briefly and forcibly diawl, except bards\nconcocting an awdl for an Eistedfod, where the devil must always be\ncalled diafl, and excepting also sailors, farm servants, post-boys and\ncolliers, together with country gentlemen learning Welsh to address\ntheir wouldn't-be constituents--for all these the regulation form\nwas jawl, with an English j. Thus one could, I pointed out to him,\nfix the social standing of a Welshman by the way he named 'the Enemy\nof Souls,' as well as appreciate the superiority of Welsh over Greek,\nseeing that Welsh, when it borrowed diabolos from Greek, quadrupled\nit, while Greek remained sterile. He was so profoundly impressed\nthat I never was able to bring his attention back to the small fry,\nspiritually speaking, of the Isle of Man, to wit, the fairies and\nthe fenodyree, or even the witches and the charmers, except that he\nhad some reserve of faith in witches, since the witch of Endor was in\nthe Bible and had ascribed to her a 'terr'ble' great power of raising\nspirits: that, he thought, must be true. I pointed out to him that a\nfenodyree (see p. 288) was also mentioned in his Bible: this display\nof ready knowledge on my part made a deep impression on his mind.\n\nThe Manx are, as a rule, a sober people, and highly religious;\nas regards their tenets, they are mostly members of the Church\nof England or Wesleyan Methodists, or else both, which is by no\nmeans unusual. Religious phrases are not rare in their ordinary\nconversation; in fact, they struck me as being of more frequent\noccurrence than in Wales, even the Wales of my boyhood; and here and\nthere this fondness for religious phraseology has left its traces\non the native vocabulary. Take, for example, the word for 'anybody,\na person, or human being,' which Cregeen writes py'agh or p'agh:\nhe rightly regards it as the colloquial pronunciation of peccagh,\n'a sinner.' So, when one knocks at a Manx door and calls out, Vel\np'agh sthie? he literally asks, 'Is there any sinner indoors?' The\nquestion has, however, been explained to me, with unconscious irony,\nas properly meaning, 'Is there any Christian indoors?' and care\nis now taken in reading to pronounce the middle consonants of the\nword peccagh, 'sinner,' so as to distinguish it from the word for a\nChristian 'anybody': but the identity of origin is unmistakable.\n\nLastly, the fact that a curse is a species of prayer, to wit, a prayer\nfor evil to follow, is well exemplified in Manx by the same words,\ngwee [157], plural gwecaghyn, meaning both kinds of prayer. Thus I\nfound myself stumbling several times, in reading through the Psalms in\nManx, from not bearing in mind the sinister meaning of these words;\nfor example in Psalm xiv. 6, where we have Ta 'n beeal oc lane dy\nghweeaghyn as dy herriuid, which I mechanically construed to mean\n'Their mouth is full of praying and bitterness,' instead of 'cursing\nand bitterness'; and so in other cases, such as Ps. x. 7, and cix. 27.\n\nIt occurred to me on various occasions to make inquiries as to the\nattitude of religious Manxmen towards witchcraft and the charmer's\nvocation. Nobody, so far as I know, accuses them of favouring\nwitchcraft in any way whatsoever; but as to the reality of witches\nand witchcraft they are not likely to have any doubts so long as they\ndwell on the Biblical account of the witch of Endor, as I have already\nmentioned in the case of the old Crimean soldier. Then as to charmers\nI have heard it distinctly stated that the most religious men are\nthey who have most confidence in charmers and their charms; and a lay\npreacher whom I know has been mentioned to me as now and then doing\na little charming in cases of danger or pressing need. On the whole,\nI think the charge against religious people of consulting charmers is\nsomewhat exaggerated; but I believe that recourse to the charmer is\nmore usual and more openly had than, for example, in Wales, where those\nwho consult a dyn hyspys or 'wise man' have to do it secretly, and at\nthe risk of being expelled by their co-religionists from the Seiet or\n'Society.' There is somewhat in the atmosphere of Man to remind one\nrather of the Wales of a past generation--Wales as it was at the time\nwhen the Rev. Edmund Jones could write a Relation of Apparitions of\nSpirits in the County of Monmouth and the Principality of Wales, as\na book 'designed to confute and to prevent the infidelity of denying\nthe being and apparition of spirits, which tends to irreligion and\natheism': see pp. 174, 195 above.\n\nThe Manx peasantry are perhaps the most independent and prosperous in\nthe British Isles; but their position geographically and politically\nhas been favourable to the continuance of ideas not quite up to the\nlevel of the latest papers on Darwinism and Evolution read at our\nChurch Congresses in this country. This may be thought to be here wide\nof the mark; but, after giving, in the previous chapter, specimens of\nrather ancient superstitions as recently known in the island, it is but\nright that one should form an idea of the surroundings in which they\nhave lingered into modern times. Perhaps nothing will better serve to\nbring this home to the reader's mind than the fact, for which there\nis proof, that old people still living remember men and women clad\nin white sheets doing penance publicly in the churches of Man.\n\nThe following is the evidence which I was able to find, and I may state\nthat I first heard in 1888 of the public penance from Mr. Joughin,\nwho was an aged man and a native of Kirk Bride. He related how a\ngirl named Mary Dick gave an impertinent answer to the clergyman\nwhen he was catechizing her class, and how she had to do penance\nfor it at church. She took her revenge on the parson by singing,\nwhile attending in a white sheet, louder than everybody else in the\ncongregation. This, unless I am mistaken, Mr. Joughin gave me to\nunderstand he had heard from his father. I mentioned the story to a\nclergyman, who was decidedly of opinion that no one alive now could\nremember anything about public penance. Not long after, however, I got\ninto conversation with a shoemaker at Kirk Michael, named Dan Kelly,\nwho was nearly completing his eighty-first year. He was a native of\nBallaugh, and stated that he remembered many successive occupants of\nthe episcopal see. A long time ago the official called the sumner had,\nout of spite he said, appointed him to serve as one of the four of the\nchapter jury. It was, he thought, when he was about twenty-five. During\nhis term of office he saw four persons, of whom two were married\nmen and two unmarried women, doing penance in the parish church of\nBallaugh for having illegitimate children. They stood in the alley\nof the church, and the sumner had to throw white sheets over them;\non the fourth Sunday of their penance they stood inside the chancel\nrails, but not to take the communion. The parson, whose name was\nStowell or Stowall, made them thoroughly ashamed of themselves on the\nfourth Sunday, as one of the men afterwards admitted. Kelly mentioned\nthe names of the women and of one of the men, and he indicated to\nme some of their descendants as well known in the neighbourhood. I\ncross-examined him all the more severely, as I had heard the other\nview of the remoteness of the date. But nothing could shake Kelly,\nwho added that soon after the date of the above mentioned cases the\ncivil functionary, known as the vicar-general, put an end to the\nchapter jury and to public penance: according to his reckoning the\npenance he spoke of must have taken place about 1832. Another old\nman, named Kewley, living now near Kirk Michael, but formerly in the\nparish of Lezayre, had a similar story. He thinks that he was born\nin the sixth year of the century, and when he was between eighteen\nand twenty he saw a man doing public penance, in Lezayre Church, I\npresume, but I have no decided note on that point. However that may\nbe, he remembered that the penitent, when he had done his penance,\nhad the audacity to throw the white sheet over the sumner, who, the\npenitent remarked, might now wear it himself, as he had had enough\nof it. Kewley would bring the date only down to about 1825.\n\nLastly, I was in the island again in 1891, and spent the first part of\nthe month of April at Peel, where I had conversations with a retired\ncaptain who was then about seventy-eight. He is a native of the parish\nof Dalby, but he was only 'a lump of a boy' when the last couple of\nimmorals were forced to do penance in white sheets at church. He gave\nme the guilty man's name, and the name of his home in the parish,\nand both the captain and his daughter assured me that the man had\nonly been dead six or seven years; that is, the penitent seems to have\nlived till about the year 1884. I may here mention that the parish of\nDalby is the subject of many tales, which go to show that its people\nwere more old-fashioned in their ways than those of the rest of the\nisland. It appears to have been the last, also, to be reached by a\ncart road; and I was amused by a native's description of the men at\nMethodist meetings in Dalby pulling the tappag, or forelock, at the\nname of Jesus, while the women ducked a curtsy in a dangerously abrupt\nfashion. He and his wife appeared to be quite used to it: the husband\nwas an octogenarian named Quirc, who was born on the coast near the\nlow-lying peninsula called the Niarbyl, that is to say 'the Tail.'\n\nTo return to the public penance, it seems to us in this country to\nbelong, so to say, to ancient history, and it transports us to a state\nof things which we find it hard to realize. The lapse of years has\nbrought about profounder changes in our greater Isle of Britain than\nin the smaller Isle of Man, while we ourselves, helpless to escape\nthe pervading influence of those profounder changes, become living\ninstances of the comprehensive truth of the German poet's words,\n\n\n                Omnia mutantur, nos et mutamur in illis.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\nTHE FOLKLORE OF THE WELLS\n\n                         ... Iuvat integros accedere fontes.--Lucretius.\n\n\nIt is only recently [158] that I heard for the first time of Welsh\ninstances of the habit of tying rags and bits of clothing to the\nbranches of a tree growing near a holy well. Since then I have obtained\nseveral items of information in point: the first is a communication\nreceived in June, 1892, from Mr. J. H. Davies, of Lincoln College,\nOxford--since then of Lincoln's Inn--relating to a Glamorganshire holy\nwell, situated near the pathway leading from Coychurch to Bridgend. It\nis the custom there, he states, for people suffering from any malady\nto dip a rag in the water, and to bathe the affected part of the\nbody, the rag being then placed on a tree close to the well. When\nMr. Davies passed that way, some three years previously, there were,\nhe adds, hundreds of such shreds on the tree, some of which distinctly\npresented the appearance of having been very recently placed there. The\nwell is called Ffynnon Cae Moch, 'Swine-field Well,' which can hardly\nhave been its old name; and a later communication from Mr. Davies\nsummarizes a conversation which he had about the well, on December 16,\n1892, with Mr. J. T. Howell, of Pencoed, near Bridgend. His notes run\nthus:--'Ffynnon Cae Moch, between Coychurch and Bridgend, is one mile\nfrom Coychurch, one and a quarter from Bridgend, near Tremains. It\nis within twelve or fifteen yards of the high-road, just where the\npathway begins. People suffering from rheumatism go there. They\nbathe the part affected with water, and afterwards tie a piece of\nrag to the tree which overhangs the well. The rag is not put in the\nwater at all, but is only put on the tree for luck. It is a stunted,\nbut very old tree, and is simply covered with rags.' A little less\nthan a year later, I had an opportunity of visiting this well in the\ncompany of Mr. Brynmor-Jones; and I find in my notes that it is not\nsituated so near the road as Mr. Howell would seem to have stated to\nMr. Davies. We found the well, which is a powerful spring, surrounded\nby a circular wall. It is overshadowed by a dying thorn tree, and\na little further back stands another thorn which is not so decayed:\nit was on this latter thorn we found the rags. I took off a twig with\ntwo rags, while Mr. Brynmor-Jones counted over a dozen other rags on\nthe tree; and we noticed that some of them had only recently been\nsuspended there: among them were portions undoubtedly of a woman's\nclothing. At one of the hotels at Bridgend, I found an illiterate\nservant who was acquainted with the well, and I cross-examined him\non the subject of it. He stated that a man with a wound, which he\nexplained to mean a cut, would go and stand in the well within the\nwall, and there he would untie the rag that had been used to tie up\nthe wound and would wash the wound with it: then he would tie up the\nwound with a fresh rag and hang the old one on the tree. The more\nrespectable people whom I questioned talked more vaguely, and only of\ntying a rag to the tree, except one who mentioned a pin being thrown\ninto the well or a rag being tied to the tree.\n\nMy next informant is Mr. D. J. Jones, a native of the Rhonda Valley,\nin the same county of Glamorgan. He was an undergraduate of Jesus\nCollege, Oxford, when I consulted him in 1892. His information was to\nthe effect that he knows of three interesting wells in the county. The\nfirst is situated within two miles of his home, and is known as Ffynnon\nPen Rhys, or the Well of Pen Rhys. The custom there is that the person\nwho wishes his health to be benefited should wash in the water of the\nwell, and throw a pin into it afterwards. He next mentions a well at\nLlancarvan, some five or six miles from Cowbridge, where the custom\nprevails of tying rags to the branches of a tree growing close at\nhand. Lastly, he calls my attention to a passage in Hanes Morganwg,\n'The History of Glamorgan,' written by Mr. D. W. Jones, known in Welsh\nliterature as Dafyd Morganwg. In that work, p. 29, the author speaks of\nFfynnon Marcros, 'the Well of Marcros,' to the following effect:--'It\nis the custom for those who are healed in it to tie a shred of linen\nor cotton to the branches of a tree that stands close by; and there\nthe shreds are, almost as numerous as the leaves.' Marcros is, I may\nsay, near Nash Point, and looks on the map as if it were about eight\nmiles distant from Bridgend. Let me here make it clear that so far\nwe have had to do with four different wells [159], three of which are\nseverally distinguished by the presence of a tree adorned with rags by\nthose who seek health in those waters; but they are all three, as the\nreader will have doubtless noticed, in the same district, namely, the\npart of Glamorganshire near the main line of the Great Western Railway.\n\nThere is no reason, however, to think that the custom of tying rags\nto a well tree was peculiar to that part of the Principality. One\nday, in looking through some old notes of mine, I came across an\nentry bearing the date of August 7, 1887, when I was spending a few\ndays with my friend, Chancellor Silvan Evans, at Llanwrin Rectory,\nnear Machynlleth. Mrs. Evans was then alive and well, and took a\nkeen interest in Welsh antiquities and folklore. Among other things,\nshe related to me how she had, some twenty years before, visited\na well in the parish of Llandrillo yn Rhos, namely Ffynnon Eilian,\nor Elian's Well, between Abergele and Llandudno, when her attention\nwas directed to some bushes near the well, which had once been covered\nwith bits of rags left by those who frequented the well. This was told\nMrs. Evans by an old woman of seventy, who, on being questioned by\nMrs. Evans concerning the history of the well, informed her that the\nrags used to be tied to the bushes by means of wool. She was explicit\non the point, that wool had to be used for the purpose, and that even\nwoollen yarn would not do: it had to be wool in its natural state. The\nold woman remembered this to have been the rule ever since she was\na child. Mrs. Evans noticed corks, with pins stuck in them, floating\nin the well, and her informant remembered many more in years gone by;\nfor Elian's Well was once in great repute as a ffynnon reibio, or a\nwell to which people resorted for the kindly purpose of bewitching\nthose whom they hated. I infer, however, from what Mrs. Evans was\ntold of the rags, that Elian's Well was visited, not only by the\nmalicious, but also by the sick and suffering. My note is not clear on\nthe point whether there were any rags on the bushes by the well when\nMrs. Evans visited the spot, or whether she was only told of them by\nthe caretaker. Even in the latter case it seems evident that this\nhabit of tying rags to trees or bushes near sacred wells has only\nceased in that part of Denbighshire within this century. It is very\npossible that it continued in North Wales more recently than this\ninstance would lead one to suppose; indeed, I should not be in the\nleast surprised to learn that it is still practised in out of the way\nplaces in Gwyned, just as it is in Glamorgan: we want more information.\n\nI cannot say for certain whether it was customary in any of the cases\nto which I have called attention to tie rags to the well tree as\nwell as to throw pins or other small objects into the well; but I\ncannot help adhering to the view, that the distinction was probably\nan ancient one between two orders of things. In other words, I am\ninclined to believe that the rag was regarded as the vehicle of the\ndisease of which the ailing visitor to the well wished to be rid,\nand that the bead, button, or coin deposited by him in the well, or in\na receptacle near the well, formed alone the offering. In opposition\nto this view Mr. Gomme has expressed himself as follows in Folk-Lore,\n1892, p. 89:--'There is some evidence against that, from the fact that\nin the case of some wells, especially in Scotland at one time, the\nwhole garment was put down as an offering. Gradually these offerings\nof clothes became less and less till they came down to rags. Also\nin other parts, the geographical distribution of rag-offerings\ncoincides with the existence of monoliths and dolmens.' As to the\nmonoliths and dolmens, I am too little conversant with the facts to\nrisk any opinion as to the value of the coincidence; but as to the\nsuggestion that the rag originally meant the whole garment, that will\nsuit my hypothesis admirably. In other words, the whole garment was,\nas I take it, the vehicle of the disease: the whole was accursed,\nand not merely a part. But Mr. Gomme had previously touched on the\nquestion in his presidential address (Folk-Lore for 1892, p. 13);\nand I must at once admit that he succeeded then in proving that a\ncertain amount of confusion occurs between things which I should\nregard as belonging originally to distinct categories: witness the\ninimitable Irish instance which he quotes:--'To St. Columbkill--I\noffer up this button, a bit o' the waistband o' my own breeches, an'\na taste o' my wife's petticoat, in remimbrance of us havin' made this\nholy station; an' may they rise up in glory to prove it for us in the\nlast day.' Here not only the button is treated as an offering, but also\nthe bits of clothing; but the confusion of ideas I should explain as\nbeing, at least in part, one of the natural results of substituting a\nportion of a garment for the entire garment; for thereby a button or\na pin becomes a part of the dress, and capable of being interpreted\nin two senses. After all, however, the ordinary practices have not,\nas I look at them, resulted in effacing the distinction altogether:\nthe rag is not left in the well; nor is the bead, button, or pin\nattached to a branch of the tree. So, in the main, it seemed to me\neasier to explain the facts, taken altogether, on the supposition that\noriginally the rag was regarded as the vehicle of the disease, and the\nbead, button, or coin as the offering. My object in calling attention\nto this point was to have it discussed, and I am happy to say that I\nhave not been disappointed; for, since my remarks were published [160],\na paper entitled Pin-wells and Rag-bushes was read before the British\nAssociation by Mr. Hartland, in 1893, and published in Folk-Lore\nfor the same year, pp. 451-70. In that paper the whole question is\ngone into with searching logic, and Mr. Hartland finds the required\nexplanation in one of the dogmas of magic. For 'if an article of my\nclothing,' he says, 'in a witch's hands may cause me to suffer, the\nsame article in contact with a beneficent power may relieve my pain,\nrestore me to health, or promote my general prosperity. A pin that has\npricked my wart ... has by its contact, by the wound it has inflicted,\nacquired a peculiar bond with the wart; the rag that has rubbed the\nwart has by that friction acquired a similar bond; so that whatever\nis done to the pin or the rag, whatever influences the pin or the rag\nmay undergo, the same influences are by that very act brought to bear,\nupon the wart. If, instead of using a rag, or making a pilgrimage to a\nsacred well, I rub my warts with raw meat and then bury the meat, the\nwart will decay and disappear with the decay and dissolution of the\nmeat.... In like manner my shirt or stocking, or a rag to represent\nit, placed upon a sacred bush, or thrust into a sacred well--my name\nwritten upon the walls of a temple--a stone or a pellet from my hand\ncast upon a sacred image or a sacred cairn--is thenceforth in continual\ncontact with divinity; and the effluence of divinity, reaching and\ninvolving it, will reach and involve me.' Mr. Hartland concludes from\na large number of instances, that as a rule 'where the pin or button is\ndropped into the well, the patient does not trouble about the rag, and\nvice versa.' This wider argument as to the effluence of the divinity\nof a particular spot of special holiness seems to me conclusive. It\napplies also, needless to say, to a large category of cases besides\nthose in question between Mr. Gomme and the present writer.\n\nSo now I would revise my position thus:--I continue to regard the\nrag much as before, but treat the article thrown into the well as\nthe more special means of establishing a beneficial relation with the\nwell divinity: whether it could also be viewed as an offering would\ndepend on the value attached to it. Some of the following notes may\nserve as illustrations, especially those relating to the wool and\nthe pin:--Ffynnon Gwynwy, or the Well of Gwynwy, near Llangelynin,\non the river Conwy, appears to be partly in point; for it formerly\nused to be well stocked with crooked pins, which nobody would touch\nlest he might get from them the warts supposed to attach to them,\nwhence it would appear that a pin might be regarded as the vehicle\nof the disease. There was a well of some repute at Cae Garw, in the\nparish of Pistyll, near the foot of Carnguwch, in Lleyn, or West\nCarnarvonshire. The water possessed virtues to cure one of rheumatism\nand warts; but, in order to be rid of the latter, it was requisite to\nthrow a pin into the well for each individual wart. For these two items\nof information, and several more to be mentioned presently, I have\nto thank Mr. John Jones, better known in Wales by his bardic name of\nMyrdin Fard, and as an enthusiastic collector of Welsh antiquities,\nwhether in the form of manuscript or of unwritten folklore. On\nthe second day of the year 1893 I paid him a visit at Chwilog, on\nthe Carnarvon and Avon Wen Railway, and asked him many questions:\nthese he not only answered with the utmost willingness, but he also\nshowed me the unpublished materials which he had collected. I come\nnext to a competition on the folklore of North Wales at the London\nEistedfod in 1887, in which, as one of the adjudicators, I observed\nthat several of the competitors mentioned the prevalent belief, that\nevery well with healing properties must have its outlet towards the\nsouth (i'r d\u00ea). According to one of them, if you wished to get rid of\nwarts, you should, on your way to the well, look for wool which the\nsheep had lost. When you had found enough wool you should prick each\nwart with a pin, and then rub the wart well with the wool. The next\nthing was to bend the pin and throw it into the well. Then you should\nplace the wool on the first whitethorn you could find, and as the wind\nscattered the wool, the warts would disappear. There was a well of the\nkind, the writer went on to say, near his home; and he, with three or\nfour other boys, went from school one day to the well to charm their\nwarts away. For he had twenty-three on one of his hands; so that he\nalways tried to hide it, as it was the belief that if one counted the\nwarts they would double their number. He forgets what became of the\nother boys' warts, but his own disappeared soon afterwards; and his\ngrandfather used to maintain that it was owing to the virtue of the\nwell. Such were the words of this writer, whose name is unknown to me;\nbut I guess him to have been a native of Carnarvonshire, or else of one\nof the neighbouring districts of Denbighshire or Merionethshire. To\nreturn to Myrdin Fard, he mentioned Ffynnon Cefn Lleithfan, or the\nWell of the Lleithfan Ridge, on the eastern slope of Mynyd y Rhiw,\nin the parish of Bryncroes, in the west of Lleyn. In the case of\nthis well it is necessary, when going to it and coming from it, to be\ncareful not to utter a word to anybody, or to turn to look back. What\none has to do at the well is to bathe the warts with a rag or clout\nwhich has grease on it. When that is done, the clout with the grease\nhas to be carefully concealed beneath the stone at the mouth of the\nwell. This brings to my mind the fact that I noticed more than once,\nyears ago, rags underneath stones in the water flowing from wells\nin Wales, and sometimes thrust into holes in the walls of wells,\nbut I had no notion how they came there.\n\nOn the subject of pin-wells I had in 1893, from Mr. T. E. Morris,\nof Portmadoc, barrister-at-law, some account of Ffynnon Faglan,\nor Baglan's Well, in the parish of Llanfaglan, near Carnarvon. The\nwell is situated in an open field to the right of the road leading\ntowards the church, and close to it. The church and churchyard form an\nenclosure in the middle of the same field, and the former has in its\nwall the old stone reading FILI LOVERNII ANATEMORI. My friend derived\ninformation from Mrs. Roberts, of Cefn y Coed, near Carnarvon, as\nfollows:--'The old people who would be likely to know anything about\nFfynnon Faglan have all died. The two oldest inhabitants, who have\nalways lived in this parish of Llanfaglan, remember the well being\nused for healing purposes. One told me his mother used to take him\nto it, when he was a child, for sore eyes, bathe them with the water,\nand then drop in a pin. The other man, when he was young, bathed in it\nfor rheumatism; and until quite lately people used to fetch away the\nwater for medicinal purposes. The latter, who lives near the well, at\nTan y Graig, said that he remembered it being cleaned out about fifty\nyears ago, when two basinfuls of pins were taken out, but no coin of\nany kind. The pins were all bent, and I conclude the intention was to\nexorcise the evil spirit supposed to afflict the person who dropped\nthem in, or, as the Welsh say, dadwitsio. No doubt some ominous words\nwere also used. The well is at present nearly dry, the field where it\nlies having been drained some years ago, and the water in consequence\nwithdrawn from it. It was much used for the cure of warts. The wart\nwas washed, then pricked with a pin, which, after being bent, was\nthrown into the well. There is a very large and well-known well of\nthe kind at C'lynnog, Ffynnon Beuno, \"St. Beuno's Well,\" which was\nconsidered to have miraculous healing powers; and even yet, I believe,\nsome people have faith in it. Ffynnon Faglan is, in its construction,\nan imitation, on a smaller scale, of St. Beuno's Well at C'lynnog.'\n\nIn the cliffs at the west end of Lleyn is a wishing-well called\nFfynnon Fair, or St. Mary's Well, to the left of the site of Eglwys\nFair, and facing Ynys Enlli, or Bardsey. Here, to obtain your wish,\nyou have to descend the steps to the well and walk up again to the\ntop with your mouth full of the water; and then you have to go round\nthe ruins of the church once or more times with the water still in\nyour mouth. Viewing the position of the well from the sea, I should\nbe disposed to think that the realization of one's wish at that price\ncould not be regarded as altogether cheap. Myrdin Fard also told me\nthat there used to be a well near Criccieth Church. It was known as\nFfynnon y Saint, or the Saints' Well, and it was the custom to throw\nkeys or pins into it on the morning of Easter Sunday, in order to\npropitiate St. Catherine, who was the patron of the well. I should\nbe glad to know what this exactly meant.\n\nLastly, a few of the wells in that part of Gwyned may be grouped\ntogether and described as oracular. One of these, the big well in\nthe parish of Llanbedrog in Lleyn, as I learn from Myrdin Fard,\nrequired the devotee to kneel by it and avow his faith in it. When\nthis had been duly done, he might proceed in this wise: to ascertain,\nfor instance, the name of the thief who had stolen from him, he had\nto throw a bit of bread into the well and name the person whom he\nsuspected. At the name of the thief the bread would sink; so the\ninquirer went on naming all the persons he could think of until the\nbit of bread sank, when the thief was identified. How far is one to\nsuppose that we have here traces of the influences of the water ordeal\ncommon in the Middle Ages? Another well of the same kind was Ffynnon\nSaethon, in Llanfihangel Bachellaeth parish, also in Lleyn. Here it was\ncustomary, as he had it in writing, for lovers to throw pins (pinnau)\ninto the well; but these pins appear to have been the points of the\nblackthorn. At any rate, they cannot well have been of any kind of\nmetal, as we are told that, if they sank in the water, one concluded\nthat one's lover was not sincere in his or her love.\n\nNext may be mentioned a well, bearing the remarkable name of Ffynnon\nGwyned, or the Well of Gwyned, which is situated near Mynyd Mawr,\nin the parish of Abererch: it used to be consulted in the following\nmanner:--When it was desired to discover whether an ailing person would\nrecover, a garment of his would be thrown into the well, and according\nto the side on which it sank it was known whether he would live or die.\n\nFfynnon Gybi, or St. Cybi's Well, in the parish of Llangybi, was the\nscene of a somewhat similar practice; for there, girls who wished to\nknow their lovers' intentions would spread their pocket-handkerchiefs\non the water of the well, and, if the water pushed the handkerchiefs\nto the south--in Welsh i'r d\u00ea--they knew that everything was right--in\nWelsh o d\u00ea--and that their lovers were honest and honourable in their\nintentions; but, if the water shifted the handkerchiefs northwards,\nthey concluded the contrary. A reference to this is made by a modern\nWelsh poet, as follows:--\n\n\n                Ambell dyn, gwaeldyn, a gyrch\n                I bant gor\u00eds Moel Bentyrch,\n                Mewn gobaith mai hen Gybi\n                Glodfawr syd yn llwydaw'r lli.\n\n                Some folks, worthless [161] folks, visit\n                A hollow below Moel Bentyrch,\n                In hopes that ancient Kybi\n                Of noble fame blesses the flood.\n\n\nThe spot is not far from where Myrdin Fard lives; and he mentioned,\nthat adjoining the well is a building which was probably intended\nfor the person in charge of the well: it has been tenanted within\nhis memory. Not only for this but also for several of the foregoing\nitems of information am I indebted to Myrdin; and now I come to\nMrs. Williams-Ellis, of Glasfryn Uchaf, who tells me that one day not\nlong ago, she met at Llangybi a native who had not visited the place\nsince his boyhood: he had been away as an engineer in South Wales\nnearly all his life, but had returned to see an aged relative. So the\nreminiscences of the place filled his mind, and, among other things,\nhe said that he remembered very well what concern there was one day\nin the village at a mischievous person having taken a very large\neel out of the well. Many of the old people, he said, felt that much\nof the virtue of the well was probably taken away with the eel. To\nsee it coiling about their limbs when they went into the water was\na good sign: so he gave one to understand. As a sort of parallel I\nmay mention that I have seen the fish living in Ffynnon Beris, not\nfar from the parish church of Llanberis. It is jealously guarded\nby the inhabitants, and when it was once or twice taken out by a\nmischievous stranger he was forced to put it back again. However,\nI never could get the history of this sacred fish, but I found that\nit was regarded as very old [162]. I may add that it appears the\nwell called Ffynnon Fair, 'Mary's Well,' at Llandwyn, in Anglesey,\nused formerly to have inhabiting it a sacred fish, whose movements\nindicated the fortunes of the love-sick men and maidens who visited\nthere the shrine of St. Dwynwen [163]. Possibly inquiry would result\nin showing that such sacred fish have been far more common once in\nthe Principality than they are now.\n\nThe next class of wells to claim our attention consists of what I\nmay call fairy wells, of which few are mentioned in connexion with\nWales; but the legends about them are of absorbing interest. One of\nthem is in Myrdin Fard's neighbourhood, and I questioned him a good\ndeal on the subject: it is called Ffynnon Grassi, or Grace's Well,\nand it occupies, according to him, a few square feet--he has measured\nit himself--of the south-east corner of the lake of Glasfryn Uchaf,\nin the parish of Llangybi. It appears that it was walled in, and\nthat the stone forming its eastern side has several holes in it,\nwhich were intended to let water enter the well and not issue from\nit. It had a door or cover on its surface; and it was necessary to\nkeep the door always shut, except when water was being drawn. Through\nsomebody's negligence, however, it was once on a time left open:\nthe consequence was that the water of the well flowed out and formed\nthe Glasfryn Lake, which is so considerable as to be navigable for\nsmall boats. Grassi is supposed in the locality to have been the name\nof the owner of the well, or at any rate of a lady who had something\nto do with it. Grassi, or Grace, however, can only be a name which a\nmodern version of the legend has introduced. It probably stands for\nan older name given to the person in charge of the well; to the one,\nin fact, who neglected to shut the door; but though the name must be\ncomparatively modern, the story, as a whole, does not appear to be\nat all modern, but very decidedly the contrary.\n\nSo I wrote in 1893; but years after my conversation with Myrdin Fard,\nmy attention was called to the fact that the Glasfryn family, of which\nthe Rev. J. C. Williams-Ellis is the head, have in their coat of arms\na mermaid, who is represented in the usual way, holding a comb in her\nright hand and a mirror in her left. I had from the first expected\nto find some kind of Undine or Liban story associated with the well\nand the lake, though I had abstained from trying the risky effects of\nleading questions; but when I heard of the heraldic mermaid I wrote\nto Mr. Williams-Ellis to ask whether he knew her history. His words,\nthough not encouraging as regards the mermaid, soon convinced me that\nI had not been wholly wrong in supposing that more folklore attached\nto the well and lake than I had been able to discover. Since then\nMrs. Williams-Ellis has taken the trouble of collecting on the spot\nall the items of tradition which she could find: she communicated them\nto me in the month of March, 1899, and the following is an abstract\nof them, preceded by a brief description of the ground:--\n\nThe well itself is at the foot of a very green field-bank at the\nhead of the lake, but not on the same level with it, as the lake\nhas had its waters lowered half a century or more ago by the outlet\nhaving been cut deeper. Adjoining the field containing the well is\na larger field, which also slopes down to the lake and extends in\nanother direction to the grounds belonging to the house. This larger\nfield is called Cae'r Ladi, 'the Lady's Field,' and it is remarkable\nfor having in its centre an ancient standing stone, which, as seen\nfrom the windows of the house, presents the appearance of a female\nfigure hurrying along, with the wind slightly swelling out her veil\nand the skirt of her dress. Mr. Williams-Ellis remembers how when\nhe was a boy the stone was partially white-washed, and how an old\nbonnet adorned the top of this would-be statue, and he thinks that\nan old shawl used to be thrown over the shoulders.\n\nNow as to Grassi, she is mostly regarded as a ghostly person somehow\nconnected with the lake and the house of Glasfryn. One story is to\nthe effect, that on a certain evening she forgot to close the well,\nand that when the gushing waters had formed the lake, poor Grassi,\novercome with remorse, wandered up and down the high ground of Cae'r\nLadi, moaning and weeping. There, in fact, she is still at times to\nbe heard lamenting her fate, especially at two o'clock in the early\nmorning. Some people say that she is also to be seen about the lake,\nwhich is now the haunt of some half a dozen swans. But on the whole\nher visits appear to have been most frequent and troublesome at\nthe house itself. Several persons still living are mentioned, who\nbelieve that they have seen her there, and two of them, Mrs. Jones\nof Talafon, and old Sydney Griffith of Tydyn Bach, agree in the main\nin their description of what they saw, namely, a tall lady with well\nmarked features and large bright eyes: she was dressed in white silk\nand a white velvet bonnet. The woman, Sydney Griffith, thought that\nshe had seen the lady walking several times about the house and in\nCae'r Ladi. This comes, in both instances, from a young lady born\nand bred in the immediate neighbourhood, and studying now at the\nUniversity College of North Wales; but Mrs. Williams-Ellis has had\nsimilar accounts from other sources, and she mentions tenants of\nGlasfryn who found it difficult to keep servants there, because they\nfelt that the place was haunted. In fact one of the tenants himself\nfelt so unsafe that he used to take his gun and his dog with him to\nhis bedroom at night; not to mention that when the Williams-Ellises\nlived themselves, as they do still, in the house, their visitors have\nbeen known to declare that they heard the strange plaintive cry out\nof doors at two o'clock in the morning.\n\nTraces also of a very different story are reported by\nMrs. Williams-Ellis, to the effect that when the water broke forth to\nform the lake, the fairies seized Grassi and changed her into a swan,\nand that she continued in that form to live on the lake sixscore years,\nand that when at length she died, she loudly lamented her lot: that cry\nis still to be heard at night. This story is in process apparently of\nbeing rationalized; at any rate the young lady student, to whom I have\nreferred, remembers perfectly that her grandfather used to explain\nto her and the other children at home that Grassi was changed into\na swan as a punishment for haunting Glasfryn, but that nevertheless\nthe old lady still visited the place, especially when there happened\nto be strangers in the house. At the end of September last Mrs. Rhys\nand I had the pleasure of spending a few days at Glasfryn, in the hope\nof hearing the plaintive wail, and of seeing the lady in white silk\nrevisiting her familiar haunts. But alas! our sleep was never once\ndisturbed, nor was our peace once troubled by suspicions of anything\nuncanny. This, however, is negative, and characterized by the usual\nweakness of all such evidence.\n\nIt is now time to turn to another order of facts: in the first place\nmay be mentioned that the young lady student's grandmother used to\ncall the well Ffynnon Gr\u00e2s Si\u00f4n Gruffud, as she had always heard that\nGr\u00e2s was the daughter of a certain Si\u00f4n Gruffyd, 'John Griffith,'\nwho lived near the well; and Mrs. Williams-Ellis finds that Gr\u00e2s was\nburied, at a very advanced age, on December 14, 1743, at the parish\nchurch of Llangybi, where the register describes her as Grace Jones,\nalias Grace Jones Griffith. She had lived till the end at Glasfryn,\nbut from documents in the possession of the Glasfryn family it is\nknown that in 1728 Hugh Lloyd of Trallwyn purchased the house and\nestate of Glasfryn from a son of Grace's, named John ab Cadwaladr,\nand that Hugh Lloyd of Trallwyn's son, the Rev. William Lloyd,\nsold them to Archdeacon Ellis, from whom they have descended to the\nRev. J. C. Williams-Ellis. In the light of these facts there is no\nreason to connect the old lady's name very closely with the well or\nthe lake. She was once the dominant figure at Glasfryn, that is all;\nand when she died she was as usual supposed to haunt the house and\nits immediate surroundings; and if we might venture to suppose that\nGlasfryn was sold by her son against her will, though subject to\nconditions which enabled her to remain in possession of the place to\nthe day of her death, we should have a further explanation, perhaps,\nof her supposed moaning and lamentation.\n\nIn the background, however, of the story, one detects the possibility\nof another female figure, for it may be that the standing stone in\nCae'r Ladi represents a woman buried there centuries before Grace\nruled at Glasfryn, and that traditions about the earlier lady have\nsurvived to be inextricably mixed with those concerning the later\none. Lastly, those traditions may have also associated the subject of\nthem with the well and the lake; but I wish to attach no importance\nto this conjecture, as we have in reserve a third figure of larger\npossibilities than either Grace or the stone woman. It needs no better\nintroduction than Mrs. Williams-Ellis' own words: 'Our younger boys\nhave a crew of three little Welsh boys who live near the lake, to\njoin them in their boat sailing about the pool and in camping on the\nisland, &c. They asked me once who Morgan was, whom the little boys\nwere always saying they were to be careful against. An old man living\nat Tal Llyn, \"Lake's End,\" a farm close by, says that as a boy he was\nalways told that \"naughty boys would be carried off by Morgan into\nthe lake.\" Others tell me that Morgan is always held to be ready to\ntake off troublesome children, and somehow Morgan is thought of as a\nbad one.' Now as Morgan carries children off into the pool, he would\nseem to issue from the pool, and to have his home in it. Further, he\nplays the same part as the fairies against whom a Snowdonian mother\nused to warn her children: they were on no account to wander away\nfrom the house when there was a mist, lest the fairies should carry\nthem to their home beneath Llyn Dwythwch. In other words, Morgan may\nbe said to act in the same way as the mermaid, who takes a sailor\ndown to her submarine home; and it explains to my mind a discussion\nwhich I once heard of the name Morgan by a party of men and women\nmaking hay one fine summer's day in the neighbourhood of Ponterwyd,\nin North Cardiganshire. I was a child, but I remember vividly how\nthey teased one of their number whose 'style' was Morgan. They hinted\nat dreadful things associated with the name; but it was all so vague\nthat I could not gather that his great unknown namesake was a thief,\na murderer, or any kind of ordinary criminal. The impression left\non my mind was rather the notion of something weird, uncanny, or\nnon-human; and the fact that the Welsh version of the Book of Common\nPrayer calls the Pelagians Morganiaid, 'Morgans,' does not offer an\nadequate explanation. But I now see clearly that it is to be sought\nin the indistinct echo of such folklore as that which makes Morgan\na terror to children in the neighbourhood of the Glasfryn Lake.\n\nThe name, however, presents points of difficulty which require some\nnotice: the Welsh translators of Article IX in the Prayer Book were\nprobably wrong in making Pelagians into Morganiaid, as the Welsh\nfor Pelagius seems to have been rather Morien [164], which in its\noldest recorded form was Morgen, and meant sea-born, or offspring of\nthe sea. In a still earlier form it must have been Morigenos, with\na feminine Morigena, but when the endings came to be dropped both\nvocables would become Morgen, later Morien. I do not remember coming\nacross a feminine Morgen in Welsh, but the presumption is that it\ndid exist. For, among other things, I may mention that we have it\nin Irish as Muirgen, one of the names of the lake lady Liban, who,\nwhen the waters of the neglected well rushed forth to form Lough\nNeagh, lived beneath that lake until she desired to be changed into\na salmon. The same conclusion may be drawn from the name Morgain or\nMorgan, given in the French romances to one or more water ladies;\nfor those names are easiest to explain as the Brythonic Morgen\nborrowed from a Welsh or Breton source, unless one found it possible\nto trace it direct to the Goidels of Wales. No sooner, however, had\nthe confusion taken place between Morgen and the name which is so\ncommon in Wales as exclusively a man's name, than the aquatic figure\nmust also become male. That is why the Glasfryn Morgan is now a male,\nand not a female like the other characters whose r\u00f4le he plays. But\nwhile the name was in Welsh successively Morgen and Morien, the man's\nname was Morcant, Morgant, or Morgan [165], so that, phonologically\nspeaking, no confusion could be regarded as possible between the\ntwo series. Here, therefore, one detects the influence, doubtless,\nof the French romances which spoke of a lake lady Morgain, Morgan,\nor Morgue. The character varied: Morgain le Fay was a designing\nand wicked person; but Morgan was also the name of a well disposed\nlady of the same fairy kind, who took Arthur away to be healed at\nher home in the Isle of Avallon. We seem to be on the track of the\nsame confusing influence of the name, when it occurs in the story of\nGeraint and Enid; for there the chief physician of Arthur's court is\ncalled Morgan Tut or Morgant Tut, and the word tut has been shown\nby M. Loth to have meant the same sort of non-human being whom an\neleventh-century Life of St. Maudez mentions as quidam d\u00e6mon quem\nBritones Tuthe appellant. Thus the name Morgan Tut is meant as the\nWelsh equivalent of the French Morgain le Fay or Morgan la F\u00e9e [166];\nbut so long as the compiler of the story of Geraint and Enid employed\nin his Welsh the form Morgan, he had practically no choice but to treat\nthe person called Morgan as a man, whether that was or was not the sex\nin the original texts on which he was drawing. Of course he could have\navoided the difficulty in case he was aware of it, if he had found\nsome available formula in use like Mary-Morgant, said to be a common\nname for a fairy on the island of Ouessant, off the coast of Brittany.\n\nSummarizing the foregoing notes, we seem to be right in drawing the\nfollowing conclusions:--(1) The well was left in the charge of a woman\nwho forgot to shut it, and when she saw the water bursting forth,\nshe bewailed her negligence, as in the case of her counterpart in\nthe legend of Cantre'r Gwaelod. (2) The original name of the Glasfryn\n'Morgan' was Morgen, later Morien. (3) The person changed into a swan\non the occasion of the Glasfryn well erupting was not Grassi, but most\nprobably Morgen. And (4) the character was originally feminine, like\nthat of the mermaid or the fairies, whose r\u00f4le the Glasfryn Morgan\nplays; and more especially may one compare the Irish Muirgen, the\nMorgen more usually called L\u00edban. For it is to be noticed that when\nthe neglected well burst forth she, Muirgen or L\u00edban, was not drowned\nlike the others involved in the calamity, but lived in her chamber at\nthe bottom of the lake formed by the overflowing well, until she was\nchanged into a salmon. In that form she lived on some three centuries,\nuntil in fact she was caught in the net of a fisherman, and obtained\nthe boon of a Christian burial. However, the change into a swan is also\nknown on Irish ground: take for instance the story of the Children of\nLir, who were converted into swans by their stepmother, and lived in\nthat form on Loch Dairbhreach, in Westmeath, for three hundred years,\nand twice as long on the open sea, until their destiny closed with\nthe advent of St. Patrick and the first ringing of a Christian bell\nin Erin [167].\n\nThe next legend was kindly communicated to me by Mr. Wm. Davies already\nmentioned at p. 147 above: he found it in Cyfaill yr Aelwyd [168],\n\"The Friend of the Hearth,\" where it is stated that it belonged to\nDavid Jones' Storehouse of Curiosities, a collection which does\nnot seem to have ever assumed the form of a printed book. David\nJones, of Trefriw, in the Conwy Valley, was a publisher and poet\nwho wrote between 1750 and 1780. This is his story: 'In 1735 I had a\nconversation with a man concerning Tegid Lake. He had heard from old\npeople that near the middle of it there was a well opposite Llangower,\nand the well was called Ffynnon Gywer, \"Cower's Well,\" and at that\ntime the town was round about the well. It was obligatory to place a\nlid on the well every night. (It seems that in those days somebody\nwas aware that unless this was done it would prove the destruction\nof the town.) But one night it was forgotten, and by the morning,\nbehold the town had subsided and the lake became three miles long\nand one mile wide. They say, moreover, that on clear days some\npeople see the chimneys of the houses. It is since then that the\ntown was built at the lower end of the lake. It is called Y Bala\n[169], and the man told me that he had talked with an old Bala man\nwho had, when he was a youth, had two days' mowing of hay [170]\nbetween the road and the lake; but by this time the lake had spread\nover that land and the road also, which necessitated the purchase of\nland further away for the road; and some say that the town will yet\nsink as far as the place called Llanfor--others call it Llanfawd,\n\"Drown-church,\" or Llanfawr, \"Great-church,\" in Penllyn.... Further,\nwhen the weather is stormy water appears oozing through every floor\nwithin Bala, and at other times anybody can get water enough for the\nuse of his house, provided he dig a little into the floor of it.'\n\nIn reference to the idea that the town is to sink, together with\nthe neighbouring village of Llanfor, the writer quotes in a note the\ncouplet known still to everybody in the neighbourhood as follows:--\n\n\n                Y Bala aeth, a'r Bala aiff,\n                A Llanfor aiff yn Llyn.\n\n                Bala old the lake has had, and Bala new\n                The lake will have, and Llanfor too.\n\n\nThis probably implies that old Bala is beneath the lake, and that the\npresent Bala is to meet the like fate at some time to come. This kind\nof prophecy is not very uncommon: thus there has been one current\nas to the Montgomeryshire town of Pool, called, in Welsh, Trallwng\nor Trallwm, and in English, Welshpool, to distinguish it from the\nEnglish town of Pool. As to Welshpool, a very deep water called Llyn\nDu, lying between the town and the Castell Coch or Powys Castle,\nand right in the domain of the castle, is suddenly to spread itself,\nand one fine market day to engulf the whole place [171]. Further, when\nI was a boy in North Cardiganshire, the following couplet was quite\nfamiliar to me, and supposed to have been one of Merlin's prophecies:--\n\n\n                Caer Fyrdin, cei oer fore;\n                Daear a'th lwnc, dw'r i'th le.\n\n                Carmarthen, a cold morn awaits thee;\n                Earth gapes, and water in thy place will be.\n\n\nIn regard to the earlier half of the line, concerning Bala gone,\nthe story of Ffynnon Gywer might be said to explain it, but there is\nanother which is later and far better known. It is of the same kind\nas the stories related in Welsh concerning Llynclys and Syfadon; but\nI reserve it with these and others of the same sort for chapter vii.\n\nFor the next legend belonging here I have to thank the Rev. J. Fisher,\na native of the parish of Llandyb\u00efe, who, in spite of his name, is a\ngenuine Welshman, and--what is more--a Welsh scholar. The following are\nhis words:--'Llyn Llech Owen (the last word is locally sounded w-en,\nlike oo-en in English, as is also the personal name Owen) is on Mynyd\nMawr, in the ecclesiastical parish of Gors L\u00e2s, and the civil parish of\nLlanarthney, Carmarthenshire. It is a small lake, forming the source of\nthe Gwendraeth Fawr. I have heard the tradition about its origin told\nby several persons, and by all, until quite recently, pretty much in\nthe same form. In 1884 I took it down from my grandfather, Rees Thomas\n(b. 1809, d. 1892), of Cil Coll Llandeb\u00efe--a very intelligent man,\nwith a good fund of old-world Welsh lore--who had lived all his life\nin the neighbouring parishes of Llandeilo Fawr and Llandyb\u00efe.\n\n'The following is the version of the story (translated) as I had\nit from him:--There was once a man of the name of Owen living on\nMynyd Mawr, and he had a well, \"ffynnon.\" Over this well he kept a\nlarge flag (\"fflagen neu lech fawr\": \"fflagen\" is the word in common\nuse now in these parts for a large flat stone), which he was always\ncareful to replace over its mouth after he had satisfied himself or\nhis beast with water. It happened, however, that one day he went on\nhorseback to the well to water his horse, and forgot to put the flag\nback in its place. He rode off leisurely in the direction of his home;\nbut, after he had gone some distance, he casually looked back, and,\nto his great astonishment, he saw that the well had burst out and\nwas overflowing the whole place. He suddenly bethought him that he\nshould ride back and encompass the overflow of the water as fast as\nhe could; and it was the horse's track in galloping round the water\nthat put a stop to its further overflow. It is fully believed that,\nhad he not galloped round the flood in the way he did, the well would\nhave been sure to inundate the whole district and drown all. Hence\nthe lake was called the Lake of Owen's Flag, \"Llyn Llech Owen.\"\n\n'I have always felt interested in this story, as it resembled that\nabout the formation of Lough Neagh, &c.; and, happening to meet the\nRev. D. Harwood Hughes, B.A., the vicar of Gors L\u00e2s (St. Lleian's),\nlast August (1892), I asked him to tell me the legend as he had\nheard it in his parish. He said that he had been told it, but in\na form different from mine, where the \"Owen\" was said to have been\nOwen Glyndwr. This is the substance of the legend as he had heard\nit:--Owen Glyndwr, when once passing through these parts, arrived here\nof an evening. He came across a well, and, having watered his horse,\nplaced a stone over it in order to find it again next morning. He then\nwent to lodge for the night at Dyllgoed Farm, close by. In the morning,\nbefore proceeding on his journey, he took his horse to the well to give\nhim water, but found to his surprise that the well had become a lake.'\n\nMr. Fisher goes on to mention the later history of the lake: how,\nsome eighty years ago, its banks were the resort on Sunday afternoons\nof the young people of the neighbourhood, and how a Baptist preacher\nput an end to their amusements and various kinds of games by preaching\nat them. However, the lake-side appears to be still a favourite spot\nfor picnics and Sunday-school gatherings. Mr. Fisher was quite right in\nappending to his own version that of his friend; but, from the point of\nview of folklore, I must confess that I can make nothing of the latter:\nit differs from the older one as much as chalk does from cheese. It\nwould be naturally gratifying to the pride of local topography to be\nable to connect with the pool the name of Owen Glyndwr; but it is\nworthy of note that this highly respectable attempt to rationalize\nthe legend wholly fails, as it does not explain why there is now a\nlake where there was once but a well. In other words, the euhemerized\nstory is itself evidence corroborative of Mr. Fisher's older version,\nwhich is furthermore kept in countenance by Howells' account, p. 104,\nwhere we are told who the Owen in question was, namely, Owen Lawgoch,\na personage dear, as we shall see later, to the Welsh legend of the\ndistrict. He and his men had their abode in a cave on the northern\nside of Mynyd Mawr, and while there Owen used, we are informed, to\nwater his steed at a fine spring covered with a large stone, which it\nrequired the strength of a giant to lift. But one day he forgot to\nreplace it, and when he next sought the well he found the lake. He\nreturned to his cave and told his men what had happened. Thereupon\nboth he and they fell into a sleep, which is to last till it is\nbroken by the sound of a trumpet and the clang of arms on Rhiw Goch:\nthen they are to sally forth to conquer.\n\nNow the story as told by Howells and Fisher provokes comparison,\nas the latter suggests, with the Irish legend of the formation of\nLough Ree and of Lough Neagh in the story of the Death of Eochaid\nMcMaireda [172]. In both of these legends also there is a horse, a\nkind of water-horse, who forms the well which eventually overflows and\nbecomes Lough Ree, and so with the still larger body of water known\nas Lough Neagh. In the latter case the fairy well was placed in the\ncharge of a woman; but she one day left the cover of the well open,\nand the catastrophe took place--the water issued forth and overflowed\nthe country. One of Eochaid's daughters, named L\u00edban, however, was\nnot drowned, but only changed into a salmon as already mentioned at\np. 376 above. In my Arthurian Legend, p. 361, I have attempted to show\nthat the name L\u00edban may have its Welsh equivalent in that of Ll\u00efon,\noccurring in the name of Llyn Ll\u00efon, or Ll\u00efon's Lake, the bursting\nof which is described in the latest series of Triads, iii. 13, 97,\nas causing a sort of deluge. I am not certain as to the nature of\nthe relationship between those names, but it seems evident that the\nstories have a common substratum, though it is to be noticed that\nno well, fairy or otherwise, figures in the Llyn Ll\u00efon legend, which\nmakes the presence of the monster called the afanc the cause of the\nwaters bursting forth. So Hu the Mighty, with his team of famous oxen,\nis made to drag the afanc out of the lake.\n\nThere is, however, another Welsh legend concerning a great overflow in\nwhich a well does figure: I allude to that of Cantre'r Gwaelod, or the\nBottom Hundred, a fine spacious country supposed to be submerged in\nCardigan Bay. Modern euhemerism treats it as defended by embankments\nand sluices, which, we are told, were in the charge of the prince\nof the country, named Seithennin, who, being one day in his cups,\nforgot to shut the sluices, and thus brought about the inundation,\nwhich was the end of his fertile realm. This, however, is not the\nold legend: that speaks of a well, and lays the blame on a woman--a\npretty sure sign of antiquity, as the reader may judge from other old\nstories which will readily occur to him. The Welsh legend to which I\nallude is embodied in a short poem in the Black Book of Carmarthen\n[173]: it consists of eight triplets, to which is added a triplet\nfrom the Englynion of the Graves. The following is the original with\na tentative translation:--\n\n\n            Seithenhin sawde allan.\n            ac edrychuirde varanres mor.\n            maes guitnev rytoes.\n\n            Boed emendiceid y morvin\n            aehellygaut guydi cvin.\n            finaun wenestir [174] mor terruin.\n\n            Boed emendiceid y vachteith.\n            ae . golligaut guydi gueith.\n            finaun wenestir mor diffeith.\n\n            Diaspad mererid y ar vann caer.\n            hid ar duu y dodir.\n            gnaud guydi traha trangc hir.\n\n            Diaspad mererid . y ar van kaer hetiv.\n            hid ar duu y dadoluch.\n            gnaud guydi traha attreguch.\n\n            Diaspad mererid am gorchuit heno.\n            ac nimhaut gorlluit.\n            gnaud guydi traha tramguit.\n\n            Diaspad mererid y ar gwinev kadir\n            kedaul duv ae gorev.\n            gnaud guydi gormot eissev.\n\n            Diaspad mererid . am kymhell heno\n            y urth uyistauell.\n            gnaud guydi traha trangc pell.\n\n            Bet seithenhin synhuir vann\n            rug kaer kenedir a glan.\n            mor maurhidic a kinran.\n\n\n\n            Seithennin, stand thou forth\n            And see the vanguard of the main:\n            Gwydno's plain has it covered.\n\n            Accursed be the maiden\n            Who let it loose after supping,\n            Well cup-bearer of the mighty main.\n\n            Accursed be the damsel\n            Who let it loose after battle,\n            Well minister of the high sea.\n\n            Mererid's cry from a city's height,\n            Even to God is it directed:\n            After pride comes a long pause.\n\n            Mererid's cry from a city's height to-day,\n            Even to God her expiation:\n            After pride comes reflection.\n\n            Mererid's cry o'ercomes me to-night,\n            Nor can I readily prosper:\n            After pride comes a fall.\n\n            Mererid's cry over strong wines,\n            Bounteous God has wrought it:\n            After excess comes privation.\n\n            Mererid's cry drives me to-night\n            From my chamber away:\n            After insolence comes long death.\n\n            Weak-witted Seithennin's grave is it\n            Between Kenedyr's Fort and the shore,\n            With majestic Mor's and Kynran's.\n\n\nThe names in these lines present great difficulties: first comes\nthat of Mererid, which is no other word than Margarita, 'a pearl,'\nborrowed; but what does it here mean? Margarita, besides meaning\na pearl, was used in Welsh, e.g. under the form Marereda [175], as\nthe proper name written in English Margaret. That is probably how\nit is to be taken here, namely, as the name given to the negligent\nguardian of the fairy well. It cannot very well be, however, the\nname belonging to the original form of the legend; and we have the\nsomewhat parallel case of Ffynnon Grassi, or Grace's Well; but what\nold Celtic name that of Mererid has replaced in the story, I cannot\nsay. In the next place, nobody has been able to identify Caer Kenedyr,\nand I have nothing to say as to Mor Maurhidic, except that a person of\nthat name is mentioned in another of the Englynion of the Graves. It\nruns thus in the Black Book, fol. 33a:--\n\n\n            Bet mor maurhidic diessic unben.\n            post kinhen kinteic.\n            mab peredur penwetic.\n\n            The grave of Mor the Grand, ... prince,\n            Pillar of the ... conflict,\n            Son of Peredur of Penwedig.\n\n\nThe last name in the final triplet of the poem which I have attempted\nto translate is Kinran, which is otherwise unknown as a Welsh name;\nbut I am inclined to identify it with that of one of the three\nwho escaped the catastrophe in the Irish legend. The name there is\nCurn\u00e1n, which was borne by the idiot of the family, who, like many\nlater idiots, was at the same time a prophet. For he is represented\nas always prophesying that the waters were going to burst forth,\nand as advising his friends to prepare boats. So he may be set,\nafter a fashion, over against our Seithenhin synhuir vann, 'S. of\nthe feeble mind.' But one might perhaps ask why I do not point out\nan equivalent in Irish for the Welsh Seithennin, as his name is now\npronounced. The fact is that no such equivalent occurs in the Irish\nstory in question, nor exactly, so far as I know, in any other.\n\nThat is what I wrote when penning these notes; but it has occurred to\nme since then, that there is an Irish name, an important Irish name,\nwhich looks as if related to Seithenhin, and that is Setanta Beg, 'the\nlittle Setantian,' the first name of the Irish hero C\u00fachulainn. The nt,\nI may point out, makes one suspect that Setanta is a name of Brythonic\norigin in Irish; and I have been in the habit of associating it with\nthat of the people of the Setantii [176], placed by Ptolemy on the\ncoast of what is now Lancashire. Whether any legend has ever been\ncurrent about a country submerged on the coast of Lancashire I cannot\nsay, but the soundings would make such a legend quite comprehensible. I\nremember, however, reading somewhere as to the Plain of Muirthemhne,\nof which C\u00fachulainn, our Setanta Beg, had special charge, that it\nwas so called because it had once been submarine and become since the\nconverse, so to say, of Seithennin's country. The latter is beneath\nCardigan Bay, while the other fringed the opposite side of the sea,\nconsisting as it did of the level portion of County Louth. On the\nwhole, I am not altogether indisposed to believe that we have here\ntraces of an ancient legend of a wider scope than is represented by\nthe Black Book triplets, which I have essayed to translate. I think\nthat I am right in recognizing that legend in the Mabinogi of Branwen,\ndaughter of Llyr. There we read that, when Br\u00e2n and his men crossed\nfrom Wales to Ireland, the intervening sea consisted merely of two\nnavigable rivers, called Lli and Archan. The story-teller adds words\nto the effect, that it is only since then the sea has multiplied its\nrealms [177] between Ireland and Ynys y Kedyrn, or the Isle of the\nKeiri, a name which has already been discussed: see pp. 279-83.\n\nThese are not all the questions which such stories suggest; for\nSeithennin is represented in later Welsh literature as the son of\none Seithyn, associated with Dyfed; and the name Seithyn leads off\nto the coast of Brittany. For I learn from a paper by the late M. le\nMen, in the Revue Arch\u00e9ologique for 1872 (xxiii. 52), that the \u00cele\nde Sein is called in Breton Enez-Sun, in which Sun is a dialectic\nshortening of Sizun, which is also met with as Seidhun. That being so,\none would seem to be right in regarding Sizun as nearly related to\nour Seithyn. That is not all--the tradition reminds one of the Welsh\nlegend: M. le Men refers to the Vie du P. Maunoir by Boschet (Paris,\n1697) p. 126, and adds that, in his own time, the road ending on\nthe Pointe du Raz opposite the \u00cele de Sein passed 'pour \u00eatre l'ancien\nchemin qui conduisait \u00e0 la ville d'Is (Kaer-a-Is, la ville de la partie\nbasse).' It is my own experience, that nobody can go about much in\nBrittany without hearing over and over again about the submerged city\nof Is. There is no doubt that we have in these names distant echoes of\nan inundation story, once widely current in both Britains and perhaps\nalso in Ireland. With regard to Wales we have an indication to that\neffect in the fact, that Gwydno, to whom the inundated region is\ntreated as having belonged, is associated not only with Cardigan Bay,\nbut also with the coast of North Wales, especially the part of it\nsituated between Bangor and Llandudno [178]. Adjoining it is supposed\nto lie submerged a once fertile district called Tyno Helig, a legend\nabout which will come under notice later. This brings the inundation\nstory nearer to the coast where Ptolemy in the second century located\nthe Harbour of the Setantii, about the mouth of the river Ribble,\nand in their name we seem to have some sort of a historical basis for\nthat of the drunken Seithennin [179]. I cannot close these remarks\nbetter than by appending what Professor Boyd Dawkins has recently\nsaid with regard to the sea between Britain and Ireland:--\n\n'It may be interesting to remark further that during the time of\nthe Iberian dominion in Wales, the geography of the seaboard was\ndifferent to what it is now. A forest, containing the remains of their\ndomestic oxen that had run wild, and of the indigenous wild animals\nsuch as the bear and the red deer, united Anglesey with the mainland,\nand occupied the shallows of Cardigan Bay, known in legend as \"the\nlost lands of Wales.\" It extended southwards from the present sea\nmargin across the estuary of the Severn, to Somerset, Devon, and\nCornwall. It passed northwards across the Irish Sea off the coast\nof Cheshire and Lancashire, and occupied Morecambe Bay with a dense\ngrowth of oak, Scotch fir, alder, birch, and hazel. It ranged seawards\nbeyond the ten-fathom line, and is to be found on most shores beneath\nthe sand-banks and mud-banks, as for example at Rhyl and Cardiff. In\nCardigan Bay it excited the wonder of Giraldus de Barri [180].'\n\nTo return to fairy wells, I have to confess that I cannot decide what\nmay be precisely the meaning of the notion of a well with a woman set\ncarefully to see that the door or cover of the well is kept shut. It\nwill occur, however, to everybody to compare the well which Undine\nwished to have kept shut, on account of its affording a ready access\nfrom her subterranean country to the residence of her refractory knight\nin his castle above ground. And in the case of the Glasfryn Lake, the\nwalling and cover that were to keep the spring from overflowing were,\naccording to the story, not water-tight, seeing that there were holes\nmade in one of the stones. This suggests the idea that the cover was\nto prevent the passage of some such full-grown fairies as those with\nwhich legend seems to have once peopled all the pools and tarns of\nWales. But, in the next place, is the maiden in charge of the well\nto be regarded as priestess of the well? The idea of a priesthood in\nconnexion with wells in Wales is not wholly unknown.\n\nI wish, however, before discussing these instances, to call attention\nto one or two Irish ones which point in another direction. Foremost\nmay be mentioned the source of the river Boyne, which is now\ncalled Trinity Well, situated in the Barony of Carbury, in County\nKildare. The following is the Rennes Dindsenchas concerning it, as\ntranslated by Dr. Stokes, in the Revue Celtique, xv. 315-6:--'B\u00f3and,\nwife of Necht\u00e1n son of Labraid, went to the secret well which was\nin the green of S\u00edd Necht\u00e1in. Whoever went to it would not come from\nit without his two eyes bursting, unless it were Necht\u00e1n himself and\nhis three cup-bearers, whose names were Flesc and L\u00e1m and Luam. Once\nupon a time B\u00f3and went through pride to test the well's power,\nand declared that it had no secret force which could shatter her\nform, and thrice she walked withershins round the well. (Whereupon)\nthree waves from the well break over her and deprive her of a thigh\n[? wounded her thigh] and one of her hands and one of her eyes. Then\nshe, fleeing her shame, turns seaward, with the water behind her as\nfar as Boyne-mouth, (where she was drowned).' This is to explain why\nthe river is called B\u00f3and, 'Boyne.' A version to the same effect in\nthe Book of Leinster, fol. 191a, makes the general statement that no\none who gazed right into the well could avoid the instant ruin of\nhis two eyes or otherwise escape with impunity. A similar story is\nrelated to show how the Shannon, in Irish Sinann, Sinand, or Sinend,\nis called after a woman of that name. It occurs in the same Rennes\nmanuscript, and the following is Stokes' translation in the Revue\nCeltique, xv. 457:--'Sinend, daughter of Lodan Lucharglan son of Ler\nout of Tir Tairngire (Land of Promise, Fairyland), went to Connla's\nWell, which is under sea, to behold it. That is a well at which are\nthe hazels and inspirations (?) of wisdom, that is, the hazels of the\nscience of poetry, and in the same hour their fruit and their blossom\nand their foliage break forth, and these fall on the well in the same\nshower, which raises on the water a royal surge of purple. Then the\nsalmon chew the fruit, and the juice of the nuts is apparent on their\npurple bellies. And seven streams of wisdom spring forth and turn there\nagain. Now Sinend went to seek the inspiration, for she wanted nothing\nsave only wisdom. She went with the stream till she reached Linn Mna\nFeile, \"the Pool of the Modest Woman,\" that is Bri Ele--and she went\nahead on her journey; but the well left its place, and she followed it\n[181] to the banks of the river Tarr-c\u00e1in, \"Fair-back.\" After this\nit overwhelmed her, so that her back (tarr) went upwards, and when\nshe had come to the land on this side (of the Shannon) she tasted\ndeath. Whence Sinann and Linn Mna Feile and Tarr-cain.'\n\nIn these stories the reader will have noticed that the foremost\npunishment on any intruder who looked into the forbidden well was\nthe instant ruin of his two eyes. One naturally asks why the eyes\nare made the special objects of the punishment, and I am inclined to\nthink the meaning to have originally been that the well or spring was\nregarded as the eye of the divinity of the water. Should this prove\nwell founded it looks natural that the eyes, which transgressed by\ngazing into the eye of the divinity, should be the first objects of\nthat divinity's vengeance. This is suggested to me by the fact that\nthe regular Welsh word for the source of a river is llygad, Old Welsh\nlicat, 'eye,' as for instance in the case of Licat Amir mentioned by\nNennius, \u00a7 73; of Llygad Llychwr, 'the source of the Loughor river'\nin the hills behind Carreg Cennen Castle; and of the weird lake in\nwhich the Rheidol [182] rises near the top of Plinlimmon: it is called\nLlyn Llygad y Rheidol, 'the Lake of the Rheidol's Eye.' By the way,\nthe Rheidol is not wholly without its folklore, for I used to be told\nin my childhood, that she and the Wye and the Severn sallied forth\nsimultaneously from Plinlimmon one fine morning to run a race to the\nsea. The result was, one was told, that the Rheidol won great honour\nby reaching the sea three weeks before her bigger sisters. Somebody\nhas alluded to the legend in the following lines:--\n\n\n            Tair afon gynt a rifwyd\n            Ar dwyfron Pumlumon lwyd,\n            Hafren a Gwy'n hyfryd ei gwed,\n            A'r Rheidol fawr ei hanrhyded.\n\n            Three rivers of yore were seen\n            On grey Plinlimmon's breast,\n            Severn, and Wye of pleasant mien,\n            And Rheidol rich in great renown.\n\n\nTo return to the Irish legends, I may mention that Eugene O'Curry\nhas a good deal to say of the mysterious nuts and 'the salmon of\nknowledge,' the partaking of which was synonymous with the acquisition\nof knowledge and wisdom: see his Manners and Customs of the Ancient\nIrish, ii. 142-4. He gives it as his opinion that Connla's Well was\nsituated somewhere in Lower Ormond; but the locality of this Helicon,\nwith the seven streams of wisdom circulating out of it and back again\ninto it, is more intelligible when regarded as a matter of fairy\ngeography. A portion of the note appended to the foregoing legend by\nStokes is in point here: he traces the earliest mention of the nine\nhazels of wisdom, growing at the heads of the chief rivers of Ireland,\nto the Dialogue of the Two Sages in the Book of Leinster, fol. 186b,\nwhence he cites the poet N\u00e9de mac Adnai saying whence he had come,\nas follows:--a caillib .i. a n\u00f3i collaib na Segsa ... a caillib\ndidiu assa mbenaiter clessa na s\u00faad tanacsa, 'from hazels, to wit,\nfrom the nine hazels of the Segais ... from hazels out of which are\nobtained the feats of the sages, I have come.' The relevancy of this\npassage will be seen when I add, that Segais was one of the names\nof the mound in which the Boyne rises; so it may be safely inferred\nthat B\u00f3and's transgression was of the same nature as that of Sinand,\nto wit, that of intruding on sacred ground in quest of wisdom and\ninspiration which was not permitted their sex: certain sources of\nknowledge, certain quellen, were reserved for men alone.\n\nBefore I have done with the Irish instances I must append one in the\nform it was told me in the summer of 1894: I was in Meath and went\nto see the remarkable chambered cairns on the hill known as Sliabh na\nCaillighe, 'the Hag's Mountain,' near Oldcastle and Lough Crew. I had\nas my guide a young shepherd whom I picked up on the way. He knew all\nabout the hag after whom the hill was called except her name: she was,\nhe said, a giantess, and so she brought there, in three apronfuls,\nthe stones forming the three principal cairns. As to the cairn on\nthe hill point known as Belrath, that is called the Chair Cairn from\na big stone placed there by the hag to serve as her seat when she\nwished to have a quiet look on the country round. But usually she\nwas to be seen riding on a wonderful pony she had: that creature was\nso nimble and strong that it used to take the hag at a leap from one\nhill-top to another. However, the end of it all was that the hag rode\nso hard that the pony fell down, and that both horse and rider were\nkilled. The hag appears to have been Cailleach Bh\u00e9ara, or Caillech\nB\u00e9rre, 'the Old Woman of Beare,' that is, Bearhaven, in County Cork\n[183]. Now the view from the Hag's Mountain is very extensive, and\nI asked the shepherd to point out some places in the distance. Among\nother things we could see Lough Ramor, which he called the Virginia\nWater, and more to the west he identified Lough Sheelin, about which\nhe had the following legend to tell:--A long, long time ago there\nwas no lake there, but only a well with a flagstone kept over it,\nand everybody would put the flag back after taking water out of the\nwell. But one day a woman who fetched water from it forgot to replace\nthe stone, and the water burst forth in pursuit of the luckless woman,\nwho fled as hard as she could before the angry flood. She continued\nuntil she had run about seven miles--the estimated length of the\nlake at the present day. Now at this point a man, who was busily\nmowing hay in the field through which she was running, saw what\nwas happening and mowed the woman down with his scythe, whereupon\nthe water advanced no further. Such was the shepherd's yarn, which\npartly agrees with the Boyne and Shannon stories in that the woman\nwas pursued by the water, which only stopped where she died. On\nthe other hand, it resembles the Llyn Llech Owen legend and that\nof Lough Neagh in placing to the woman's charge only the neglect to\ncover the well. It looks as if we had in these stories a confusion\nof two different institutions, one being a well of wisdom which no\nwoman durst visit without fatal vengeance overtaking her, and the\nother a fairy well which was attended to by a woman who was to keep\nit covered, and who may, perhaps, be regarded as priestess of the\nspring. If we try to interpret the Cantre'r Gwaelod story from these\ntwo points of view we have to note the following matters:--Though it is\nnot said that the moruin, or damsel, had a lid or cover on the well,\nthe word golligaut or helligaut, 'did let run,' implies some such an\nidea as that of a lid or door; for opening the sluices, in the sense\nof the later version, seems to me out of the question. In two of the\nEnglynion she is cursed for the action implied, and if she was the\nwell minister or well servant, as I take finaun wenestir to mean,\nwe might perhaps regard her as the priestess of that spring. On the\nother hand, the prevailing note in the other Englynion is the traha,\n'presumption, arrogance, insolence, pride,' which forms the burden\nof four out of five of them. This would seem to point to an attitude\non the part of the damsel resembling that of B\u00f3and or Sinand when\nprying into the secrets of wells which were tabu to them. The seventh\nEnglyn alludes to wines, and its burden is gormod, 'too much, excess,\nextravagance,' whereby the poet seems to lend countenance to some\nsuch a later story as that of Seithennin's intemperance.\n\nLastly, the question of priest or priestess of a sacred well has\nbeen alluded to once or twice, and it may be perhaps illustrated on\nWelsh ground by the history of Ffynnon Eilian, or St. Elian's Well,\nwhich has been mentioned in another context, p. 357 above. Of that\nwell we read as follows, s. v. Llandrillo, in the third edition of\nLewis' Topographical Dictionary of Wales:--'Fynnon Elian, ... even in\nthe present age, is frequently visited by the superstitious, for the\npurpose of invoking curses upon the heads of those who have grievously\noffended them, and also of supplicating prosperity to themselves;\nbut the numbers are evidently decreasing. The ceremony is performed by\nthe applicant standing upon a certain spot near the well, whilst the\nowner of it reads a few passages of the sacred Scriptures, and then,\ntaking a small quantity of water, gives it to the former to drink,\nand throws the residue over his head, which is repeated three times,\nthe party continuing to mutter imprecations in whatever terms his\nvengeance may dictate.' Rice Rees, in his Essay on the Welsh Saints\n(London, 1836), p. 267, speaks of St. Elian as follows: 'Miraculous\ncures were lately supposed to be performed at his shrine at Llanelian,\nAnglesey; and near to the church of Llanelian, Denbighshire, is a\nwell called Ffynnon Elian, which is thought by the peasantry of the\nneighbourhood to be endued with miraculous powers even at present.'\n\nFoulkes, s. v. Elian, in his Enwogion Cymru, published in Liverpool\nin 1870, expresses the opinion that the visits of the superstitious\nto the well had ceased for some time. The last person supposed to have\nhad charge of the well was a certain John Evans, but some of the most\namusing stories of the shrewdness of the caretaker refer to a woman\nwho had charge of the well before Evans' time. A series of articles on\nFfynnon Eilian appeared in 1861 in a Welsh periodical called Y Nofelyd,\nprinted by Mr. Aubrey at Llanerch y Med, in Anglesey. The articles\nin question were afterwards published, I am told, as a shilling book,\nwhich I have not seen, and they dealt with the superstition, with the\nhistory of John Evans, and with his confessions and conversion. I\nhave searched in vain for any account in Welsh of the ritual\nfollowed at the well. When Mrs. Silvan Evans visited the place,\nthe person in charge of the well was a woman, and Peter Roberts,\nin his Cambrian Popular Antiquities, published in London in 1815,\nalludes to her or a predecessor of hers in the following terms,\np. 246:--'Near the Well resided some worthless and infamous wretch,\nwho officiated as priestess.' He furthermore gives one to understand\nthat she kept a book in which she registered the name of each evil\nwisher for a trifling sum of money. When this had been done, a pin was\ndropped into the well in the name of the victim. This proceeding looks\nadequate from the magical point of view, though less complicated than\nthe ritual indicated by Lewis. This latter writer calls the person who\ntook charge of the well the owner; and I have always understood that,\nwhether owner or not, he or she used to receive gifts, not only for\nplacing in the well the names of men who were to be cursed, but also\nfrom those men for taking their names out again, so as to relieve them\nfrom the malediction. In fact, the trade in curses seems to have been\na very thriving one: its influence was powerful and widespread.\n\nHere there is, I think, very little doubt that the owner or guardian of\nthe well was, so to say, the representative of an ancient priesthood\nof the well. That priesthood dated its origin probably many centuries\nbefore a Christian church was built near the well, and coming down\nto later times we have unfortunately no sufficient data to show how\nthe right to such priesthood was acquired, whether by inheritance or\notherwise; but we know that a woman might have charge of St. Elian's\nWell.\n\nLet me cite another instance, which I unexpectedly discovered\nsome years ago in the course of a ramble in quest of\nearly inscriptions. Among other places which I visited was\nLlandeilo Llwydarth, near Maen Clochog, in the northern part of\nPembrokeshire. This is one of the many churches bearing the name of\nSt. Teilo in South Wales: the building is in ruins, but the churchyard\nis still used, and contains two of the most ancient post-Roman\ninscriptions in the Principality. If you ask now for 'Llandeilo'\nin this district, you will be understood to be inquiring after the\nfarm house of that name, close to the old church; and I learnt from\nthe landlady that her family had been there for many generations,\nthough they have not very long been the proprietors of the land. She\nalso told me of St. Teilo's Well, a little above the house: she\nadded that it was considered to have the property of curing the\nwhooping-cough. I asked if there was any rite or ceremony necessary\nto be performed in order to derive benefit from the water. Certainly,\nI was told: the water must be lifted out of the well and given to the\npatient to drink by some member of the family. To be more accurate, I\nought to say that this must be done by somebody born in the house. Her\neldest son, however, had told me previously, when I was busy with the\ninscriptions, that the water must be given to the patient by the heir,\nnot by anybody else. Then came my question how the water was lifted,\nor out of what the patient had to drink, to which I was answered\nthat it was out of the skull. 'What skull?' said I. 'St. Teilo's\nskull,' was the answer. 'Where do you get the saint's skull?' I\nasked. 'Here it is,' was the answer, and I was given it to handle\nand examine. I know next to nothing about skulls; but it struck me\nthat it was the upper portion of a thick, strong skull, and it called\nto my mind the story of the three churches which contended for the\nsaint's corpse. That story will be found in the Book of Llan D\u00e2v,\npp. 116-7, and according to it the contest became so keen that it\nhad to be settled by prayer and fasting. So, in the morning, lo and\nbehold! there were three corpses of St. Teilo--not simply one--and so\nlike were they in features and stature that nobody could tell which\nwere the corpses made to order and which the old one. I should have\nguessed that the skull which I saw belonged to the former description,\nas not having been much thinned by the owner's use of it; but this I\nam forbidden to do by the fact that, according to the legend, this\nparticular Llandeilo was not one of the three contending churches\nwhich bore away in triumph a dead Teilo each. The reader, perhaps,\nwould like to take another view, namely, that the story has been\nedited in such a way as to reduce a larger number of Teilos to three,\nin order to gratify the Welsh weakness for triads.\n\nSince my visit to the neighbourhood I have been favoured with an\naccount of the well as it is now current there. My informant is\nMr. Benjamin Gibby of Llangolman Mill, who writes mentioning, among\nother things, that the people around call the well Ffynnon yr Ychen,\nor the Oxen's Well, and that the family owning and occupying the\nfarm house of Llandeilo have been there for centuries. Their name,\nwhich is Melchior (pronounced Melshor), is by no means a common one in\nthe Principality, so far as I know; but, whatever may be its history\nin Wales, the bearers of it are excellent Kymry. Mr. Gibby informs\nme that the current story solves the difficulty as to the saint's\nskull as follows:--The saint had a favourite maid servant from the\nPembrokeshire Llandeilo: she was a beautiful woman, and had the\nprivilege of attending on the saint when he was on his death-bed. As\nhis end was approaching he gave his maid a strict and solemn command\nthat in a year's time from the day of his burial at Llandeilo Fawr,\nin Carmarthenshire, she was to take his skull to the other Llandeilo,\nand to leave it there to be a blessing to coming generations of men,\nwho, when ailing, would have their health restored by drinking water\nout of it. So the belief prevailed that to drink out of the skull\nsome of the water of Teilo's Well ensured health, especially against\nthe whooping-cough. The faith of some of those who used to visit\nthe well was so great in its efficacy, that they were wont to leave\nit, he says, with their constitutions wonderfully improved; and he\nmentions a story related to him by an old neighbour, Stifyn Ifan,\nwho has been dead for some years, to the effect that a carriage,\ndrawn by four horses, came once, more than half a century ago, to\nLlandeilo. It was full of invalids coming from Pen Clawd, in Gower,\nGlamorganshire, to try the water of the well. They returned, however,\nno better than they came; for though they had drunk of the well, they\nhad neglected to do so out of the skull. This was afterwards pointed\nout to them by somebody, and they resolved to make the long journey\nto the well again. This time they did the right thing, we are told,\nand departed in excellent health.\n\nSuch are the contents of Mr. Gibby's Welsh letter; and I would now\nonly point out that we have here an instance of a well which was\nprobably sacred before the time of St. Teilo: in fact, one would\npossibly be right in supposing that the sanctity of the well and its\nimmediate surroundings was one of the causes why the site was chosen by\na Christian missionary. But consider for a moment what has happened:\nthe well paganism has annexed the saint, and established a belief\nascribing to him the skull used in the well ritual. The landlady and\nher family, it is true, neither believe in the efficacy of the well,\nnor take gifts from those who visit the well; but they continue, out\nof kindness, as they put it, to hand the skull full of water to any\none who perseveres in believing in it. In other words, the faith in\nthe well continues in a measure intact, while the walls of the church\nhave long fallen into utter decay. Such is the great persistence of\nsome primitive beliefs; and in this particular instance we have a\nsuccession which seems to point unmistakably to an ancient priesthood\nof a sacred spring.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nNOTES\n\n\n[1] As to the spelling of Welsh names, it may be pointed out for the\nbenefit of English readers that Welsh f has the sound of English v,\nwhile the sound of English f is written ff (and ph) in Welsh, and\nhowever strange it may seem to them that the written f should be\nsounded v, it is borrowed from an old English alphabet which did\nso likewise more or less systematically. Th in such English words\nas thin and breath is written th, but the soft sound as in this and\nbreathe is usually printed in Welsh dd and written in modern Welsh\nmanuscript sometimes like a small Greek delta: this will be found\nrepresented by d in the Welsh extracts edited by me in this\nvolume.--J. R.\n\n[2] 'Blaensawde, or the upper end of the river Sawde, is situate about\nthree-quarters of a mile south-east from the village of Llandeusant. It\ngives its name to one of the hamlets of that parish. The Sawde has\nits source in Llyn y Fan Fach, which is nearly two miles distant from\nBlaensawde House.'\n\n[3] The rendering might be more correctly given thus: 'O thou of the\ncrimped bread, it is not easy to catch me.'--J. R.\n\n[4] 'Mydfai parish was, in former times, celebrated for its fair\nmaidens, but whether they were descendants of the Lady of the Lake\nor otherwise cannot be determined. An old pennill records the fact\nof their beauty thus:--\n\n            Mae eira gwyn\n            Ar ben y bryn,\n            A'r glasgoed yn y Ferdre,\n            Mae bedw m\u00e2n\n            Ynghoed Cwm-br\u00e2n,\n            A merched gl\u00e2n yn Mydfe.\n\nWhich may be translated,\n\n            There is white snow\n            On the mountain's brow,\n            And greenwood at the Verdre,\n            Young birch so good\n            In Cwm-br\u00e2n wood,\n            And lovely girls in Mydfe.'\n\n[5] Similarly this should be rendered: 'O thou of the moist bread,\nI will not have thee.'--J. R.\n\n[6] In the best Demetian Welsh this word would be hwedel, and in the\nGwentian of Glamorgan it is gwedel, mutated wedel, as may be heard\nin the neighbourhood of Bridgend.--J. R.\n\n[7] This is not generally accepted, as some Welsh antiquarians\nfind reasons to believe that Dafyd ap Gwilym was buried at Strata\nFlorida.--J. R.\n\n[8] This is not quite correct, as I believe that Dr. C. Rice Williams,\nwho lives at Aberystwyth, is one of the Medygon. That means the year\n1881, when this chapter was written, excepting the portions concerning\nwhich the reader is apprised of a later date.--J. R.\n\n[9] Later it will be seen that the triban in the above form was meant\nfor neither of the two lakes, though it would seem to have adapted\nitself to several. In the case of the Fan Fach Lake the town meant\nmust have been Carmarthen, and the couplet probably ran thus:\n\n            Os na cha'i lonyd yn ym lle,\n            Fi foda dre' Garfyrdin.\n\n[10] Llwch is the Goidelic word loch borrowed, and Llyn Cwm y Llwch\nliterally means the Lake of the Loch Dingle.\n\n[11] I make no attempt to translate these lines, but I find that\nMr. Llewellyn Williams has found a still more obscure version of them,\nas follows:--\n\n            Prw med, prw med, prw'r gwartheg i dre',\n            Prw milfach a malfach, pedair llualfach,\n            Llualfach ac Acli, pedair lafi,\n            Lafi a chromwen, pedair nepwen,\n            Nepwen drwynog, brech yn llyn a gwaun dodyn,\n            Tair bryncethin, tair cyffredin,\n            Tair caseg du, draw yn yr eithin;\n            Dewch i gyd i lys y brenin.\n\n[12] The Ty-fry is a house said to be some 200 years old, and situated\nabout two miles from Rhonda Fechan: more exactly it is about one-fourth\nof a mile from the station of Ystrad Rhonda, and stands at the foot\nof Mynyd yr Eglwys on the Treorky side. It is now surrounded by the\ncottages of colliers, one of whom occupies it. For this information\nI have to thank Mr. Probert Evans.\n\n[13] It is to be borne in mind that the sound of h is uncertain\nin Glamorgan pronunciation, whether the language used is Welsh or\nEnglish. The pronunciation indicated, however, by Mr. Evans comes\nnear enough to the authentic form written Elfarch.\n\n[14] In the Snowdon district of Gwyned the call is drwi, drwi, drw-i\nbach, while in North Cardiganshire it is trwi, trwi, trw-e fach, also\npronounced sometimes with a surd r, produced by making the breath cause\nboth lips to vibrate--tR'wi, tR'wi, which can hardly be distinguished\nfrom pR'wi, pR'wi. For the more forcibly the lips are vibrated the\nmore difficult it becomes to start by closing them to pronounce p:\nso the tendency with R' is to make the preceding consonant into some\nkind of a t.\n\n[15] This is the Welsh form of the borrowed name Jane, and its\npronunciation in North Cardiganshire is Si\u00e2n, with si pronounced\napproximately like the ti of such French words as nation and the\nlike; but of late years I find the si made into English sh under\nthe influence, probably, to some extent of the English taught at\nschool. This happens in North Wales, even in districts where there\nare still plenty of people who cannot approach the English words\nfish and shilling nearer than fiss and silling. Si\u00f4n and Si\u00e2n\nrepresent an old importation of English John and Jane, but they are\nnow considered old-fashioned and superseded by John and Jane, which\nI learned to pronounce Dsi\u00f2n and Dsi\u00ean, except that Si\u00f4n survives\nas a family name, written Shone, in the neighbourhood of Wrexham.\n\n[16] This term dafad (or dafaden), 'a sheep,' also used for 'a wart,'\nand dafad (or dafaden) wyllt, literally 'a wild sheep,' for cancer\nor epithelioma, raises a question which I am quite unable to answer:\nwhy should a wart have been likened to a sheep?\n\n[17] The name is probably a shortening of Cawellyn, and that perhaps\nof Cawell-lyn, 'Creel or Basket Lake.' Its old name is said to have\nbeen Llyn Tardenni.\n\n[18] Tyn is a shortening of tydyn, which is not quite forgotten in\nthe case of Tyn Gadlas or Tyn Siarlas (for Tydyn Siarlys), 'Charles'\nTenement,' in the immediate neighbourhood. Similarly the Anglesey\nFarm of Tyn yr Onnen used at one time to be Tydyn yr Onnen in the\nbooks of Jesus College, Oxford, to which it belongs.\n\n[19] That is the pronunciation which I have learnt at Llanberis,\nbut there is another, which I have also heard, namely Derwenyd.\n\n[20] Ystrad is the Welsh corresponding to Scotch strath, and it is\nnearly related to the English word strand. It means the flat land\nnear a river.\n\n[21] Betws (or Bettws) Garmon seems to mean Germanus's Bede-hus or\nHouse of Prayer, but Garmon can hardly have come down in Welsh from\nthe time of the famous saint in the fifth century, as it would then\nhave probably yielded Gerfon and not Garmon: it looks as if it had\ncome through the Goidelic of this country.\n\n[22] One of the rare merits of our Welsh bards is their habit of\nassuming permanent noms de plume, by means of which they prevent a\nnumber of excellent native names from falling into utter oblivion\nin the general chaos of Anglo-Hebrew ones, such as Jones, Davies,\nand Williams, which cover the Principality. Welsh place-names have\nsimilarly been threatened by Hebrew names of chapels, such as Bethesda,\nRehoboth, and Jerusalem, but in this direction the Jewish mania has\nonly here and there effected permanent mischief.\n\n[23] The Brython was a valuable Welsh periodical published by\nMr. Robert Isaac Jones, at Tremadoc, in the years 1858-1863, and\nedited by the Rev. Chancellor Silvan Evans, who was then the curate\nof Llang\u00efan in Lleyn: in fact he was curate for fourteen years! His\nexcellent work in editing the Brython earned for him his diocesan's\ndispleasure, but it is easier to imagine than to describe how hard it\nwas for him to resign the honorarium of \u00a324 derived from the Brython\nwhen his stipend as a clergyman was only \u00a392, at the same time that\nhe had dependent on him a wife and six children. However much some\npeople affect to laugh at the revival of the national spirit in Wales,\nwe have, I think, got so far as to make it, for some time to come,\nimpossible for a Welsh clergyman to be snubbed on account of his\nliterary tastes or his delight in the arch\u00e6ology of his country.\n\n[24] This parish is called after a saint named Teg\u00e1i or Tyg\u00e1i, like\nTyfaelog and Tysilio, and though the accent rests on the final syllable\nnothing could prevent the grammarian Huw Tegai and his friends from\nmaking it into T\u00e9gai in Huw's name.\n\n[25] For can they now usually put Ann, and Mr. Hughes remembers\nhearing it so many years ago.\n\n[26] I remember seeing a similar mound at Llanfyrnach, in\nPembrokeshire; and the last use made of the hollow on the top of this\nalso is supposed to have been for cock-fights.\n\n[27] My attention has also been called to freit, frete, freet,\nfret, 'news, inquiry, augury,' corresponding to Anglo-Saxon freht,\n'divination.' But the disparity of meaning seems to stand in the way\nof our ffrit being referred to this origin.\n\n[28] The Oxford Mabinogion, p. 63; Guest, iii. 223.\n\n[29] See the Itinerarium Kambri\u00e6, i. 2 (pp. 33-5), and Celtic Britain,\np. 64.\n\n[30] As for example in the Arch\u00e6ologia Cambrensis for 1870, pp. 192-8;\nsee also 1872, pp. 146-8.\n\n[31] Howells has also an account of Llyn Savadhan, as he writes it:\nsee his Cambrian Superstitions, pp. 100-2, where he quaintly says that\nthe story of the wickedness of the ancient lord of Syfadon is assigned\nas the reason why 'the superstitious little river Lewenny will not mix\nits water with that of the lake.' Lewenny is a reckless improvement\nof Mapes' Leueni (printed Lenem); and Giraldus' Clamosum implies\nan old spelling Llefni, pronounced the same as the later spelling\nLlyfni, which is now made into Llynfi or Llynvi: the river so called\nflows through the lake and into the Wye at Glasbury. As to Safadan\nor Syfadon, it is probably of Goidelic origin, and to be identified\nwith such an Irish name as the feminine Samthann: see Dec. 19 in the\nMartyrologies. To keep within our data, we are at liberty to suppose\nthat this was the name of the wicked princess in the story, and that\nshe was the ancestress of a clan once powerful on and around the lake,\nwhich lies within a Goidelic area indicated by its Ogam inscriptions.\n\n[32] These were held, so far as I can gather from the descriptions\nusually given of them, exactly as I have seen a kermess or kirchmesse\ncelebrated at Heidelberg, or rather the village over the Neckar\nopposite that town. It was in 1869, but I forget what saint it was with\nwhose name the kermess was supposed to be connected: the chief features\nof it were dancing and beer drinking. It was by no means unusual for\na Welsh Gwyl Fabsant to bring together to a rural neighbourhood far\nmore people than could readily be accommodated; and in Carnarvonshire\na hurriedly improvised bed is to this day called gwely g'l'absant,\nas it were 'a bed (for the time) of a saint's festival.' Rightly\nor wrongly the belief lingers that these merry gatherings were\ncharacterized by no little immorality, which made the better class\nof people set their faces against them.\n\n[33] Since the editing of this volume was begun I have heard that it\nis intended to publish the Welsh collection which Mr. Jones has made:\nso I shall only give a translation of the Edward Llwyd version of\nthe afanc story: see section v. of this chapter.\n\n[34] This word is not in Welsh dictionaries, but it is Scotch and\nManx Gaelic, and is possibly a remnant of the Goidelic once spoken\nin Gwyned.\n\n[35] Our charlatans never leave off trying to make this into Tryfaen so\nas to extract maen, 'stone,' from it. They do not trouble themselves\nto find out whether it ever was Tryfaen or not: in fact they rather\nlike altering everything as much as they can.\n\n[36] Ystr\u00e1dllyn, with the accent on the penult, is commonly pronounced\nStr\u00e1llyn, and means 'the strand of the lake,' and the hollow is\nnamed after it Cwm Str\u00e1llyn, and the lake in it Llyn Cwm Str\u00e1llyn,\nwhich literally means 'the Lake of the Combe of the Strand of the\nLake'--all seemingly for the luxury of forgetting the original name\nof the lake, which I have never been able to ascertain.\n\n[37] So Mr. Jones puts it: I have never heard of any other part of\nthe Principality where the children are usually baptized before they\nare eight days old.\n\n[38] I cannot account for this spelling, but the ll in Bellis is\nEnglish ll, not the Welsh ll, which represents a sound very different\nfrom that of l.\n\n[39] Where not stated otherwise, as in this instance, the reader is\nto regard this chapter as written in the latter part of the year 1881.\n\n[40] See Giraldus' Itinerarium Kambri\u00e6, i. 8 (pp. 75-8); some\ndiscussion of the whole story will be found in chapter iii of this\nvolume.\n\n[41] Dr. Moore explains this to be cabbages and potatoes, pounded\nand mixed with butter or lard.\n\n[42] It would be interesting to know what has become of this letter\nand others of Llwyd's once in the possession of the canon, for it is\nnot to be supposed that the latter ever took the trouble to make an\naccurate copy of them any more than he did of any other MSS.\n\n[43] There is also a Sarn yr Afanc, 'the Afanc's Stepping Stones,'\non the Ogwen river in Nant Ffrancon: see Pennant's Tours in Wales,\niii. 101.\n\n[44] The oxen should accordingly have been called Ychain Pannog;\nbut the explanation is not to be taken seriously. These oxen will\ncome under the reader's notice again, to wit in chapter x.\n\n[45] The lines are copied exactly as given at p. 189 (I. vi. 25-30)\nof The Poetical Works of Lewis Glyn Cothi, edited for the Cymmrodorion\nby Gwallter Mechain and Tegid, and printed at Oxford in the year 1837.\n\n[46] This, I should say, must be a mistake, as it contradicts all\nthe folklore which makes the rowan an object of dread to the fairies.\n\n[47] See Choice Notes from 'Notes and Queries' (London, 1859), p. 147.\n\n[48] It is more likely that it is a shortening of Llyn y Barfog,\nmeaning the Lake of the Bearded One, Lacus Barbati as it were, the\nBearded One being somebody like the hairy monster of another lake\nmentioned at p. 18 above, or him of the white beard pictured at p. 127.\n\n[49] So far from afanc meaning a crocodile, an afanc is represented in\nthe story of Peredur as a creature that would cast at every comer a\npoisoned spear from behind a pillar standing at the mouth of the cave\ninhabited by it; see the Oxford Mabinogion, p. 224. The corresponding\nIrish word is abhac, which according to O'Reilly means 'a dwarf,\npigmy, manikin; a sprite.'\n\n[50] I should not like to vouch for the accuracy of Mr. Pughe's\nrendering of this and the other Welsh names which he has introduced:\nthat involves difficult questions.\n\n[51] The writer meant the river known as Dyfi or Dovey; but he would\nseem to have had a water etymology on the brain.\n\n[52] This involves the name of the river called Disynni, and Diswnwy\nembodies a popular etymology which is not worth discussing.\n\n[53] It would, I think, be a little nearer the mark as follows:--\n\n            Come thou, Einion's Yellow One,\n            Stray-horns, the Particoloured Lake Cow,\n            And the Hornless Dodin:\n            Arise, come home.\n\nBut one would like to know whether Dodin ought not rather to be\nwritten Dodyn, to rhyme with Llyn.\n\n[54] Hywel's real name is William Davies, Tal y Bont, Cardiganshire. As\nadjudicator I became acquainted with several stories which Mr. Davies\nhas since given me permission to use, and I have to thank him for\nclues to several others.\n\n[55] Or Llech y Deri, as Mr. Williams tells me in a letter, where\nhe adds that he does not know the place, but that he took it to be\nin the Hundred of Cemmes, in North-west Pembrokeshire. I take Llech\ny Derwyd to be fictitious; but I have not succeeded in finding any\nplace called by the other name either.\n\n[56] Perhaps the more usual thing is for the man returning from Faery\nto fall into dust on the spot: see later in this chapter the Curse of\nPantannas, which ends with an instance in point, and compare Howells,\npp. 142, 146.\n\n[57] B. Davies, that is, Benjamin Davies, who gives this tale, was,\nas I learn from Gwynionyd, a native of Cenarth. He was a schoolmaster\nfor about twelve years, and died in October, 1859, at Merthyr, near\nCarmarthen: he describes him as a good and intelligent man.\n\n[58] This is ordinarily written Cenarth, the name of a parish on\nthe Teifi, where the three counties of Cardigan, Pembroke, and\nCarmarthen meet.\n\n[59] The name Llan Dydoch occurs in the Bruts, A.D. 987 and 1089,\nand is the one still in use in Welsh; but the English St. Dogmael's\nshows that it is derived from that of Dogfael's name when the mutation\nconsonant f or v was still written m. In Welsh the name of the saint\nhas been worn down to Dogwel, as in St. Dogwell's near Fishguard, and\nLlandogwel in Llanrhudlad parish in Anglesey: see Reece's Welsh Saints,\np. 211. It points back to an early Brythonic form Doco-maglos, with\ndoco of the same origin as Latin dux, ducis, 'a leader,' and maglo-s =\nIrish mal, 'a lord or prince.' Dogfael's name assumes in Llan Dydoch a\nGoidelic form, for Dog-fael would have to become in Irish Doch-mhal,\nwhich, cut down to Doch with the honorific prefix to, has yielded\nTy-doch; but I am not clear why it is not Ty-doch. Another instance of\na Goidelic form of a name having the local preference in Wales to this\nday offers itself in Cyfelach and Llan Gyfelach in Glamorganshire. The\nWelsh was formerly Cimeliauc (Reece, p. 274). Here may also be\nmentioned St. Cyngar, otherwise called Docwinnus (Reece, p. 183),\nbut the name occurs in the Liber Landavensis in the genitive both as\nDocunn-i and Docguinni, the former of which seems easily explained as\nGoidelic for an early form of Cyngar, namely Cuno-caros, from which\nwould be formed To-chun or Do-chun. This is what seems to underlie the\nLatin Docunnus, while Docguinni is possibly a Goidelic modification\nof the written Docunni, unless some such a name as Doco-vindo-s has\nbeen confounded with Docunnus. In one instance the Book of Llan D\u00e2v\nhas instead of Abbas Docunni or Docguinni, the shorter designation,\nAbbas Dochou (p. 145), which one must not unhesitatingly treat as\nDochon, seeing that Dochou would be in later book Welsh Dochau,\nand in the dialect of the district Docha; and that this occurs in\nthe name of the church of Llandough near Cardiff, and Llandough near\nCowbridge. The connexion of a certain saint Dochdwy with these churches\ndoes not appear at all satisfactorily established, but more light is\nrequired to help one to understand these and similar church names.\n\n[60] This name which may have come from Little England below Wales,\nwas once not uncommon in South Cardiganshire, as Mr. Williams\ninforms me, but it is now mostly changed as a surname into Davies and\nJones! Compare the similar fortunes of the name Mason mentioned above,\np. 68.\n\n[61] I have not succeeded in discovering who the writer was, who used\nthis name.\n\n[62] This name as it is now written should mean 'the Gold's Foot,'\nbut in the Demetian dialect aur is pronounced oer, and I learn from\nthe rector, the Rev. Rhys Jones Lloyd, that the name has sometimes\nbeen written Tref Deyrn, which I regard as some etymologist's futile\nattempt to explain it. More importance is to be attached to the name\non the communion cup, dating 1828, and reading, as Mr. Lloyd kindly\ninforms me, Poculum Eclyseye de Tre-droyre. Beneath Droyre some\npersonal name possibly lies concealed.\n\n[63] Y Ferch o Gefn Ydfa ('The Maid of Cefn Ydfa'), by Isaac Craigfryn\nHughes, published by Messrs. Daniel Owen, Howell & Co., Cardiff, 1881.\n\n[64] In a letter dated February 9, 1899, he states, however, that as\nregards folklore the death of his father at the age of seventy-six,\nin the year 1889, had been a great loss to him; for he adds that he\nwas perfectly familiar with the traditions of the neighbourhood and\nhad associated with older men. Among the latter he had been used to\ntalk with an old man whose father remembered Cromwell passing on his\nway to destroy the Iron Works of Pant y Gwaith, where the Cavaliers\nhad had a cannon cast, which was afterwards used in the engagement\nat St. Fagan's.\n\n[65] This term is sometimes represented as being Bendith eu Mamau,\n'their Mother's Blessing,' as if each fairy were such a delightful\noffspring as to constitute himself or herself a blessing to his or her\nmother; but I have not found satisfactory evidence to the currency\nof Bendith eu Mamau, or, as it would be pronounced in Glamorgan,\nB\u00e9ndith i M\u00e1ma. On the whole, therefore, perhaps one may regard the\nname as pointing back to the Celtic goddesses known in Gaul in Roman\ntimes as the Mothers.\n\n[66] On Pen Craig Daf Mr. Hughes gives the following note:--It\nwas the residence of Dafyd Morgan or 'Counsellor Morgan,' who, he\nsays, was executed on Kennington Common for taking the side of the\nPretender. He had retreated to Pen y Graig, where his abode was,\nin order to conceal himself; but he was discovered and carried away\nat night. Here follows a verse from an old ballad about him:--\n\n    Dafyd Morgan ffel a ffol,       Taffy Morgan, sly and daft,\n    Fe aeth yn ol ei hyder:         He did his bent go after:\n    Fe neidod naid at rebel haid    He leaped a leap to a rebel swarm,\n    Pan drod o blaid Pretender.     To arm for a Pretender.\n\n[67] A t\u00f2n is any green field that is used for grazing and not meant to\nbe mown, land which has, as it were, its skin of grassy turf unbroken\nfor years by the plough.\n\n[68] On this Mr. Hughes has a note to the effect that the whole of\none milking used to be given in Glamorgan to workmen for assistance\nat the harvest or other work, and that it was not unfrequently enough\nfor the making of two cheeses.\n\n[69] Since this was first printed I have learnt from Mr. Hughes that\nthe first cry issued from the Black Cauldron in the Taff (o'r Gerwyn\nDu ar Daf), which I take to be a pool in that river.\n\n[70] The Fan is the highest mountain in the parish of Merthyr Tydfil,\nMr. Hughes tells me: he adds that there was on its side once a chapel\nwith a burial ground. Its history seems to be lost, but human bones\nhave, as he states, been frequently found there.\n\n[71] The above, I am sorry to say, is not the only instance of this\nnasty trick associating itself with Gwent, as will be seen from the\nstory of Bwca'r Trwyn in chapter x.\n\n[72] This chapter, except where a later date is suggested, may be\nregarded as written in the summer of 1883.\n\n[73] Trefriw means the town of the slope or hillside, and stands for\nTref y Riw, not tref y Rhiw, which would have yielded Treffriw, for\nthere is a tendency in Gwyned to make the mutation after the definite\narticle conform to the general rule, and to say y law, 'the hand,'\nand y raw, 'the spade,' instead of what would be in books y llaw and\ny rhaw from yr llaw and yr rhaw.\n\n[74] Why the writer spells the name Criccieth in this way I cannot\ntell, except that he was more or less under the influence of the more\nintelligible spelling Crugcaith, as where Lewis Glyn Cothi. I. xxiv,\nsang\n\n            Rhys ab Sion \u00e2'r hysbys iaith,\n            Gwr yw acw o Grugcaith.\n\nThis spelling postulates the interpretation Crug-Caith, earlier Crug\ny Ceith, 'the mound or barrow of the captives,' in reference to some\nforgotten interment; but when the accent receded to the first syllable\nthe second was slurred almost out of recognition, so that Crug-ceith,\nor Cruc-ceith, became Cr\u00faceth, whence Cr\u00facieth and Cricieth. The Bruts\nhave Crugyeith the only time it occurs, and the Record of Carnarvon\n(several times) Krukyth.\n\n[75] Out of excessive fondness for our Arthur English people translate\nthis name into Arthur's Seat instead of Idris' Seat; but Idris was\nalso somebody: he was a giant with a liking for the study of the\nstars. But let that be: I wish to say a word concerning his name:\nIdris may be explained as meaning 'War-champion,' or the like;\nand, phonologically speaking, it comes from Iud-rys, which was made\nsuccessively into Id-rys, Idris. The syllable iud meant battle or\nfight, and it undergoes a variety of forms in Welsh names. Thus before\nn, r, l, and w, it becomes id, as in Idnerth, Idloes, and Idwal, while\nIud-hael yields Ithel, whence Ab Ithel, anglicized Bethel. At the end,\nhowever, it is yd or ud, as in Gruffud or Gruffyd, from Old Welsh\nGrippiud, and Maredud or Meredyd for an older Marget-iud. By itself\nit is possibly the word which the poets write ud, and understand to\nmean lord; but if these forms are related, it must have originally\nmeant rather a fighter, soldier, or champion.\n\n[76] There is a special similarity between this and an Anglesey story\ngiven by Howells, p. 138: it consists in the sequence of seeing the\nfairies dance and finding money left by them. Why was the money left?\n\n[77] It was so called by the poet D. ab Gwilym, cxcii. 12, when\nhe sang:\n\n      I odi ac i luchio          To bring snow and drifting flakes\n    Odiar lechwed Moel Eilio.    From off Moel Eilio's slope.\n\n[78] This is commonly pronounced 'Y Gath Dorwen,' but the people of the\nneighbourhood wish to explain away a farm name which could, strangely\nenough, only mean 'the white-bellied cat'; but y Garth Dorwen,\n'the white-bellied garth or hill,' is not a very likely name either.\n\n[79] The hiring time in Wales is the beginning of winter and of\nsummer; or, as one would say in Welsh, at the Calends of Winter and\nthe Calends of May respectively. In North Cardiganshire the great\nhiring fair was held at the former date when I was a boy, and so,\nas I learn from my wife, it was in Carnarvonshire.\n\n[80] In a Cornish story mentioned in Choice Notes, p. 77, we have,\ninstead of ointment, simply soap. See also Mrs. Bray's Banks of\nthe Tamar, pp. 174-7, where she alludes to H. Cornelius Agrippa's\nstatement how such ointment used to be made--the reference must,\nI think, be to his book De Occulta Philosophia Libri III (Paris,\n1567), i. 45 (pp. 81-2).\n\n[81] See the Mabinogion, pp. 1-2; Evans' Facsimile of the Black Book\nof Carmarthen, fol. 49b-50a; Rhys' Arthurian Legend, pp. 155-8; Edmund\nJones' Spirits in the County of Monmouth, pp. 39, 71, 82; and in this\nvolume, pp. 143, 203, above. I may mention that the Cornish also have\nhad their Cwn Annwn, though the name is a different one, to wit in the\nphrase, 'the Devil and his Dandy-dogs': see Choice Notes, pp. 78-80.\n\n[82] As it stands now this would be unmutated C\u00e9sel G\u00fdfarch, 'Cyfarch's\nNook,' but there never was such a name. There was, however, Elg\u00fdfarch\nor Aelg\u00fdfarch and Rhyg\u00fdfarch, and in such a combination as C\u00e9sel\nElg\u00fdfarch there would be every temptation to drop one unaccented el.\n\n[83] Owing to some oversight he has 'a clean or a dirty cow' instead\nof cow-yard or cow-house, as I understand it.\n\n[84] Cwta makes cota in the feminine in North Cardiganshire; the\nword is nevertheless only the English cutty borrowed. Du, 'black,'\nhas corresponding to it in Irish, dubh. So the Welsh word seems to\nhave passed through the stages dyv, dyw, before yw was contracted\ninto \u00fb, which was formerly pronounced like French \u00fb, as proved by\nthe grammar already mentioned (p. 22) of J. D. Rhys, published in\nLondon in 1592; see p. 33, to which my attention has been called\nby Prof. J. Morris Jones. In Old or pre-Norman Welsh m did duty\nfor m and v, so one detects dyv as dim in a woman's name Penardim,\n'she of the very black head'; there was also a Penarwen, 'she of the\nvery blonde head.' The look of Penardim having baffled the redactor\nof the Branwen, he left the spelling unchanged: see the (Oxford)\nMabinogion, p. 26. The same sort of change which produced du has\nproduced cnu, 'a fleece,' as compared with cneifio, 'to fleece';\nlluarth, 'a kitchen garden,' as compared with its Irish equivalent\nlubhghort. Compare also Rhiwabon, locally pronounced Rhuabon, and\nRhiwallon, occurring sometimes as Rhuallon. But the most notable r\u00f4le\nof this phonetic process is exemplified by the verbal nouns ending in\nu, such as caru, 'to love,' credu, 'to believe,' tyngu, 'to swear,'\nin which the u corresponds to an m termination in Old Irish, as in\nsechem, 'to follow,' cretem, 'belief,' sessam or sessom, 'to stand.'\n\n[85] In medieval Welsh poetry this name was still a dissyllable;\nbut now it is pronounced Llyn, in conformity with the habit of\nthe Gwyndodeg, which makes into porfyd what is written porfeyd,\n'pastures,' and pronounced porf\u00e9id in North Cardiganshire. So in the\nLleyn name Sarn Fyllteyrn the second vocable represents Maelteyrn,\nin the Record of Carnarvon (p. 38) Mayltern: it is now sounded\nMylltyrn with the second y short and accented. Lleyn is a plural of\nthe people (genitive Lla\u00ebn in Porth Dinlla\u00ebn), used as a singular of\ntheir country, like Cymru = Cymry, and Prydyn. The singular is llain,\n'a spear,' in the Book of Aneurin: see Skene, ii. 64, 88, 92.\n\n[86] It is also called dolur byr, or the 'short disease'; I believe\nI have been told that it is the disease known to 'the vet.' as anthrax.\n\n[87] Here the writer seems to have been puzzled by the mh of\nAmheirchion, and to have argued back to a radical form Parch;\nbut he was on the wrong tack--Amheirchion comes from Ap-Meirchion,\nwhere the p helped to make the m a surd, which, with the syllabic\naccent on the succeeding vowel, became fixed as mh, while the p\ndisappeared by assimilation. We have, later on, a similar instance\nin Owen y Mhaxen for Owen Amhacsen = O. ap Macsen. Another instance\nwill be found at the opening of the Mabinogi of Branwen, to wit,\nin the word prynhawngweith, 'once on an afternoon,' from prynhawn,\n'afternoon,' for which our dictionaries substitute prydnawn,\nwith the accent on the ultima, though D. ab Gwilym used pyrnhawn,\nas in poem xl. 30. But the ordinary pronunciation continues to be\nprynh\u00e1wn or pyrnh\u00e1wn, sometimes reduced in Gwyned to pnawn. Let me\nadd an instance which has reached me since writing the above: In the\nArch\u00e6ologia Cambrensis for 1899, pp. 325-6, we have the pedigree of\nthe Ameridiths from the Visitation of Devonshire in 1620: in the course\nof it one finds that Iuan ap Merydeth has a son Thomas Amerideth, who,\nknowing probably no Welsh, took to writing his patronymic more nearly\nas it was pronounced. The line is brought down to Ames Amerideth,\nwho was created baronet in 1639. Amerideth of course = Ap Meredyd,\nand the present member of the family who writes to the Arch\u00e6ologia\nCambrensis spells his patronymic more correctly, Ameridith; but if\nit had survived in Wales it might have been Amheredyd. For an older\ninstance than any of these see the Book of Taliessin, poem xlix (=\nSkene, ii. 204), where one reads of Beli Amhanogan, 'B. ab Mynogan.'\n\n[88] This is pronounced Rhiwan, though probably made up of Rhiw-wen,\nfor it is the tendency of the Gwyndodeg to convert e and ai of\nthe unaccented ultima into a, and so with e in Glamorgan; see such\ninstances as Cornwan and casag, p. 29 above. It is possibly a tendency\ninherited from Goidelic, as Irish is found to proceed in the same way.\n\n[89] I may mention that some of the Francises of Anglesey are supposed\nto be descendants of Frazers, who changed their name on finding\nrefuge in the island in the time of the troubles which brought there\nthe ancestor of the Frazer who, from time to time, claims to be the\nrightful head of the Lovat family.\n\n[90] According to old Welsh orthography this would be written Moudin,\nand in the book Welsh of the present day it would have to become\nMeudin. Restored, however, to the level of Gallo-Roman names, it would\nbe Mogodunum or Magodunum. The place is known as Castell Moedin, and\nincludes within it the end of a hill about halfway between Llannarth\nand Lampeter.\n\n[91] For other mentions of the colours of fairy dress see pp. 44,\n139 above, where red prevails, and contrast the Lake Lady of Llyn\nBarfog clad in green, p. 145.\n\n[92] This name means the Bridge of the Blessed Ford, but how the\nford came to be so called I know not. The word bendigaid, 'blessed,'\ncomes from the Latin verb benedico, 'I bless,' and should, but for\nthe objection to nd in book Welsh, be bendigaid, which, in fact,\nit is approximately in the northern part of the county, where it is\ncolloquially sounded Pont Rhyd Fyndiged, Fydiged, or even Fdiged, also\nPont Rhyd mdiged, which represents the result of the unmutated form\nBdiged coming directly after the d of rhyd. Somewhat the same is\nthe case with the name of the herb Dail y Fendigaid, literally 'the\nLeaves of the Blessed' (in the feminine singular without any further\nindication of the noun to be supplied). This name means, I find,\n'hypericum andros\u00e6mum, tutsan,' and in North Cardiganshire we call\nit Dail y Fyndiged or Fdiged, but in Carnarvonshire the adjective\nis made to qualify dail, so that it sounds Dail Bydigad or Bdigad,\n'Blessed Leaves.'\n\n[93] I am far from certain what y nos, 'the night,' may mean in\nsuch names as this and Craig y Nos, 'the Rock of the Night' (p. 254\nabove), to which perhaps might be added such an instance as Blaen Nos,\n'the Point of (the?) Night,' in the neighbourhood of Llandovery, in\nCarmarthenshire. Can the allusion be merely to thickly overshadowed\nspots where the darkness of night might be said to lurk in defiance\nof the light of day? I have never visited the places in point,\nand leading questions addressed to local authorities are too apt to\nelicit misleading answers: the poetic faculty is dangerously rampant\nin the Principality.\n\n[94] D\u00e2r is a Glamorgan pronunciation, metri grati\u00e2 of what is written\ndaear, 'earth': compare d'ar-fochyn in Glamorgan for a badger,\nliterally 'an earth pig.' The dwarf's answer was probably in some\nsort of verse, with d\u00e2r and i\u00e2r to rhyme.\n\n[95] Applied in Glamorgan to a child that looks poorly and does\nnot grow.\n\n[96] In Cardiganshire a conjurer is called dyn hysbys, where hysbys\n(or, in older orthography, hyspys) means 'informed': it is the\nman who is informed on matters which are dark to others; but the\nword is also used of facts--Y mae 'r peth yn hysbys, 'the thing\nis known or manifest.' The word is divisible into hy-spys, which\nwould be in Irish, had it existed in the language, so-scese for an\nearly su-squestia-s, the related Irish words being ad-chiu, 'I see,'\npass. preterite ad-chess, 'was seen,' and the like, in which ci and ces\nhave been equated by Zimmer with the Sanskrit verb caksh, 'to see,'\nfrom a root quas. The adjective cynnil applied to the dyn hyspys in\nGlamorgan means now, as a rule, 'economical' or 'thrifty,' but in\nthis instance it would seem to have signified 'shrewd,' 'cunning,' or\n'clever,' though it would probably come nearer the original meaning of\nthe word to render it by 'smart,' for it is in Irish conduail, which\nis found applied to ingenious work, such as the ornamentation on the\nhilt of a sword. Another term for a wizard or conjurer is gwr cyfarwyd,\nwith which the reader is already familiar. Here cyfarwyd forms a link\nwith the kyvarwyd of the Mabinogion, where it usually means a\nprofessional man, especially one skilled in story and history; and what\nconstituted his knowledge was called kyvarwydyt, which included,\namong other things, acquaintance with boundaries and pedigrees, but\nit meant most frequently perhaps story; see the (Oxford) Mabinogion,\npp. 5, 61, 72, 93. All these terms should, strictly speaking, have\ngwr--gwr hyspys, gwr cynnil, and gwr cyfarwyd--but for the fact\nthat modern Welsh tends to restrict gwr to signify 'a husband' or\n'a married man,' while dyn, which only signifies a mortal, is made\nto mean man, and provided with a feminine dynes, 'woman,' unknown\nto good Welsh literature. Thus the spoken language is in this matter\nnearly on a level with English and French, which have quite lost the\nword for vir and an\u00ear.\n\n[97] Rhyd y Gloch means 'the Ford of the Bell,' in allusion, as\nthe story goes, to a silver bell that used in former ages to be\nat Llanwonno Church. The people of Llanfabon took a liking to it,\nand one night a band of them stole it; but as they were carrying it\nacross the Taff the moon happened to make her appearance suddenly,\nand they, in their fright, taking it to be sunrise, dropped the bell\nin the bed of the river, so that nothing has ever been heard of it\nsince. But for ages afterwards, and even at the present day indeed,\nnothing could rouse the natives of Llanfabon to greater fury than to\nhear the moon spoken of as haul Llanfabon, 'the sun of Llanfabon.'\n\n[98] It was peat fires that were usual in those days even in Glamorgan.\n\n[99] See Hartland's Science of Fairy Tales, pp. 112-6.\n\n[100] In no other version has Mr. Reynolds heard cwcwll wy i\u00e2r,\nbut either plisgyn or cibyn wy i\u00e2r, to which I may add masgal from\nMr. Craigfryn Hughes' versions. The word cwcwll usually means a cowl,\nbut perhaps it is best here to treat cwcwll as a distinct word derived\nsomehow from conchylium or the French coquille, 'a shell.'\n\n[101] The whole passage will be found in the Itinerarium Kambri\u00e6,\ni. 8 (pp. 75-8), and Giraldus fixes the story a little before his time\nsomewhere in the district around Swansea and Neath. With this agrees\nclosely enough the fact that a second David, Dafyd ab Geralld or David\nFitzgerald, appears to have been consecrated Bishop of St. David's\nin 1147, and to have died in 1176.\n\n[102] The words in the original are: Nec carne vescebantur, nec pisce;\nlacteis plerumque cibariis utentes, et in pultis modum quasi croco\nconfectis.\n\n[103] Perhaps it is this also that suggested the name Eliodorus, as\nit were H\u00ealiod\u00f4ros; for the original name was probably the medieval\nWelsh one of Elidyr = Irish Ailithir, ailither, 'a pilgrim': compare\nthe Pembrokeshire name Pergrin and the like. It is curious that Elidyr\ndid not occur to Glasynys and prevent him from substituting Elfod,\nwhich is quite another name, and more correctly written Elfod for\nthe earlier El-fodw, found not only as Elbodu but also Elbodug-o,\nElbodg, Elbot and Elfod: see p. 117 above.\n\n[104] For one or two more instances from Wales see Howells,\npp. 54-7. Brittany also is a great country for death portents: see\nA. Le Braz, L\u00e9gende de la Mort en Basse-Bretagne (Paris, 1893), also\nS\u00e9billot's Traditions et Superstitions de la Haute-Bretagne (Paris,\n1882), i. pp. 270-1. For Scotland see The Ghost Lights of the West\nHighlands by Dr. R. C. Maclagan in Folk-Lore for 1897, pp. 203-256,\nand for the cognate subject of second sight see Dalyell's Darker\nSuperstitions of Scotland, pp. 466-88.\n\n[105] Another word for the toeli is given by Silvan Evans as used\nin certain parts of South Wales, namely, tolaeth or dolath, as to\nwhich he mentions the opinion that it is a corruption of tylwyth,\na view corroborated by Howells using, p. 31, the plural tyloethod;\nbut it could not be easily explained except as a corruption through\nthe medium of English. Elias Owen, p. 303, uses the word in reference\nto the hammering and rapping noise attending the joinering of a\nphantom coffin for a man about to die, a sort of rehearsal well known\nthroughout the Principality to every one who has ears spiritually\ntuned. Unfortunately I have not yet succeeded in locating the use\nof the word tolaeth, except that I have been assured by a Carmarthen\nman that it is current in Welsh there as toleth, and by a native of\nPumsant that it is in use from Abergwili up to Llanbumsant.\n\n[106] See, for instance, pp. 200, 221, 228.\n\n[107] Mrs. Williams-Ellis of Glasfryn writes to me that the place is\nnow called Bwlch Trwyn Swncwl, that it is a gap on the highest part\nof the road crossing from Llanaelhaearn to Pistyll, and that it is\nquite a little mountain pass between bleak heather-covered hillsides,\nin fact a very lonely spot in the outskirts of the Eifl, and with\nCarnguwch blocking the horizon in the direction of Cardigan Bay.\n\n[108] For this I am indebted to Mr. Gwenogvryn Evans' Report on\nMSS. in the Welsh Language, i. 585 k. The words were written by\nWilliams about the beginning of the seventeenth century, and his \u00fb\ndoes not mean w. He was, however, probably thinking of cawr, cewri,\nand such instances as tawaf, 'taceo,' and tau, 'tacet.' At all events\nthere is no trace of u in the local pronunciation of the name Tre'r\nCeiri. I have heard it also as Tre' Ceiri without the definite article;\nbut had this been ancient one would expect it softened into Tre' Geiri.\n\n[109] See the Oxford Mabinogion, pp. 110, 113, and 27-9, 36-41, 44,\nalso 309, where a Triad explains that the outposts were Anglesey, Man,\nand Lundy. But the other Triads, i. 3 = iii. 67, make them Orkney,\nMan, and Wight, for which we have the older authority of Nennius. \u00a7\n8. The designation Tair Ynys Brydain, 'The Three Isles of Prydain,'\nwas known to the fourteenth-century poet, Iolo Goch: see his works\nedited by Ashton, p. 669.\n\n[110] For Prydyn in the plural see Skene's Four Ancient Books of Wales,\nii. 209, also 92, where Pryden is the form used. In modern Welsh the\ntwo senses of Cymry are distinguished in writing as Cymry and Cymru,\nbut the difference is merely one of spelling and not very ancient.\n\n[111] So Geoffrey (i. 12-15) brings his Trojans on their way to\nBritain into Aquitania, where they fight with the Pictavienses,\nwhose king he calls Goffarius Pictus.\n\n[112] Cadarn and cadr postulate respectively some such early forms\nas catrno-s and cadro-s, which according to analogy should become\ncadarn and cadr. Welsh, however, is not fond of dr; so here begins a\nbifurcation: (1) retaining the d unchanged cadro-s yields cadr, or (2)\ndr is made into dr, and other changes set in resulting in the ceir\nof ceiri, as in Welsh aneirif, 'numberless,' from eirif, 'number,'\nof the same origin as Irish \u00e1ram from *ad-rim = *ad-rima, and Welsh\neiliw, 'species, colour,' for ad-liw, in both of which i follows d\ncombinations; but that is not essential, as shown by cader, cadair,\nfor Old Welsh cateir, 'a chair,' from Latin cat[h]edra. The word that\nserves as our singular, namely cawr, is far harder to explain; but on\nthe whole I am inclined to regard it as of a different origin, to wit,\nthe Goidelic word caur, 'a giant or hero,' borrowed. The plural cewri\nor cawri is formed from the singular cawr, which means a giant, though,\nassociated in the plural with ceiri, it has sometimes to follow suit\nwith that vocable in connoting dress.\n\n[113] The most important of these are the old Breton kazr, now kaer,\n'beautiful or pretty,' and old Cornish caer of the same meaning;\nelsewhere we have, as in Greek, the Doric kekadmai and kekadmenos,\nto be found used in reference to excelling or distinguishing one's\nself; also kosmos, 'good order, ornament,' while in Sanskrit there is\nthe theme \u00e7ad, 'to excel or surpass.' The old meaning of 'beautiful,'\n'decorated,' or 'loudly dressed,' is not yet lost in the case of ceiri.\n\n[114] For the text see the Oxford Mabinogion, pp. 193-4, and for\ncomparisons of the incident see Nutt's Holy Grail, p. 154 et seq.;\nand Rhys' Arthurian Legend, pp. 75-6. A more exact parallel, however,\nis to be mentioned in the next chapter.\n\n[115] This chapter was written mostly in 1891.\n\n[116] The spelling there used is phynnodderee, to the perversity of\nwhich Cregeen calls attention in his Dictionary. In any case the\npronunciation is always approximately fun-\u00f3-dur-i or fun-\u00f3d-ri,\nwith the accent on the second syllable.\n\n[117] I am inclined to think that the first part of the word fenodyree\nis not fynney, the Manx word for 'hair,' but the Scandinavian word\nwhich survives in the Swedish fjun, 'down.' Thus fjun-hosur (for the\nfjun-hosa suggested by analogy) would explain the word fenodyree,\nexcept its final ee, which is obscure. Compare also the magic\nbreeks called finn-br\u00e6kr, as to which see Vigfusson's Icelandic\nDict. s. v. finnar.\n\n[118] Cumming's Isle of Man (London, 1848), p. 30, where he refers his\nreaders to Waldron's Description of the Isle of Man: see pp. 28, 105.\n\n[119] See Windisch's Irische Grammatik, p. 120.\n\n[120] The Manx word for the rowan tree, incorrectly called a mountain\nash, is cuirn, which is in Mod. Irish caorthann, genitive caorthainn,\nScotch Gaelic caorunn; but in Welsh books it is cerdin, singular\ncerdinen, and in the spoken language mostly cerdin, cerding, singular\ncerdinen, cerdingen. This variation seems to indicate that these\nwords have possibly been borrowed by the Welsh from a Goidelic source;\nbut the berry is known in Wales by the native name of criafol, from\nwhich the wood is frequently called, especially in North Wales, coed\ncriafol, singular coeden griafol or pren criafol. The sacredness of the\nrowan is the key to the proper names Mac-C\u00e1irthinn and Der-Ch\u00e1irthinn,\nwith which the student of Irish hagiology is familiar. They mean the\nSon and the Daughter of the Rowan respectively, and the former occurs\nas Maqui Cairatini on an Ogam inscribed stone recently discovered in\nMeath, not very far from the Boyne.\n\n[121] I am sorry to say that it never occurred to me to ask whether\nthe shooting was done with such modern things as guns. But Mr. Arthur\nMoore assures me that it is always understood to be bows and arrows,\nnot guns.\n\n[122] Edited by Oswald Cockayne for the Master of the Rolls (London,\n1864-6): see more especially vol. ii. pp. 156-7, 290-1, 401;\nvol. iii. pp. 54-5.\n\n[123] Mr. Moore is not familiar with this term, but I heard it at\nSurby, in the south; and I find buidseach and buidseachd given as\nHighland Gaelic words for a witch and witchcraft respectively.\n\n[124] See Stokes' Goidelica, p. 151.\n\n[125] This chapter was written in 1891, except the portions of it\nwhich refer to later dates indicated.\n\n[126] See the Stokes-O'Donovan edition of Cormac (Calcutta, 1868),\npp. 19, 23.\n\n[127] Sir John Sinclair's Statistical Account of Scotland, xi. 620;\nPennant's Tour in Scotland in 1769 (3rd edition, Warrington, 1774),\ni. 97, 186, 291; Thomas Stephens' Gododin, pp. 124-6; and Dr. Murray\nin the New English Dictionary, s. v. Beltane.\n\n[128] In my Hibbert Lectures on Celtic Heathendom, pp. 517-21.\n\n[129] As to the Thargelia and Delia, see Preller's Griechische\nMythologie, i. 260-2, and A. Mommsen's Heortologie, pp. 414-25.\n\n[130] See section H of the Report of the Liverpool Meeting of the\nBritish Association in 1896, pp. 626-56.\n\n[131] It is my impression that it is crowned with a small tumulus,\nand that it forms the highest ground in Jurby, which was once an\nisland by itself. The one between Ramsey and Bride is also probably\nthe highest point of the range. But these are questions which I should\nlike to see further examined, say by Mr. Arthur Moore or Mr. Kermode.\n\n[132] Cronk yn Irree Laa, despite the gender, is the name as pronounced\nby all Manxmen who have not been misled by antiquarians. To convey the\nother meaning, referring to the day watch, the name would have to be\nCronk ny Harrey Laa; in fact, a part of the Howe in the south of the\nisland is called Cronk ny Harrey, 'the Hill of the Watch.' Mr. Moore\ntells me that the Jurby cronk was one of the eminences for 'Watch and\nWard'; but he is now of opinion that the high mountain of Cronk yn\nIrree Laa in the south was not. As to the duty of the inhabitants to\nkeep 'Watch and Ward' over the island, see the passage concerning it\nextracted from the Manx Statutes (vol. i. p. 65) by Mr. Moore in his\nManx Surnames, pp. 183-3; also my preface to the same work, pp. v-viii.\n\n[133] Quoted from Oliver's Monumenta de Insula Manni\u00e6, vol. i. (Manx\nSociety, vol. iv) p. 84: see also Cumming's Isle of Man, p. 258.\n\n[134] See the New English Dictionary, s. v. 'Allhallows.'\n\n[135] This comes near the pronunciation usual in Roxburghshire and\nthe south of Scotland generally, which is, as Dr. Murray informs\nme, Hunganay without the m occurring in the other forms to be\nmentioned presently. But so far as I have been able to find, the Manx\npronunciation is now Hob dy naa, which I have heard in the north,\nwhile Hob ju naa is the prevalent form in the south.\n\n[136] See my Hibbert Lectures, pp. 514-5; and as to hiring fairs in\nWales see pp. 210-2 above.\n\n[137] See Robert Bell's Early Ballads (London, 1877), pp. 406-7,\nwhere the following is given as sung at Richmond in Yorkshire:--\n\n    To-night it is the New-Year's night, to-morrow is the day,\n    And we are come for our right, and for our ray,\n    As we used to do in old King Henry's day.\n                            Sing, fellows, sing, Hagman-heigh.\n    If you go to the bacon-flick, cut me a good bit;\n    Cut, cut and low, beware of your maw;\n    Cut, cut and round, beware of your thumb,\n    That me and my merry men may have some.\n                            Sing, fellows, sing, Hagman-heigh.\n    If you go to the black-ark bring me X mark;\n    Ten mark, ten pound, throw it down upon the ground,\n    That me and my merry men may have some.\n                            Sing, fellows, sing, Hagman-heigh.\n\n[138] The subject is worked out in Nicholson's Golspie, pp. 100-8, also\nin the New English Dictionary, where mention is made of a derivation\ninvolving calend\u00e6, which reminds me of the Welsh call for a New-Year's\nGift--Calennig! or C'lennig! in Arfon 'Y Ngh'lennig i! 'My Calends\ngift if you please!'\n\n[139] On being asked, after reading this paper to the Folk-Lore\nSociety, who was supposed to make the footmarks in the ashes, I had\nto confess that I had been careless enough never to have asked the\nquestion. I have referred it to Mr. Moore, who informs me that nobody,\nas I expected, will venture on any explanation by whom the footmarks\nare made.\n\n[140] This seems to imply the application of the same adjective, some\ntime or other, to clean water and a handsome man, just as we speak\nin North Cardiganshire of dwr gl\u00e2n, 'clean water,' and bachgen gl\u00e2n,\n'a handsome boy.'\n\n[141] In Phillips' Book of Common Prayer this is called L\u00e1 nolick y\nbiggy, 'Little Nativity Day,' and L\u00e1 ghian blieny, 'The Day of the\nYear's End,' meaning, of course, the former end of the year, not the\nlatter: see pp. 55, 62, 66.\n\n[142] See my Hibbert Lectures, pp. 514-5, and the Brython, ii. 20,\n120: an instance in point occurs in the next chapter.\n\n[143] This has been touched upon in my Hibbert Lectures, p. 676; but\nto the reasons there briefly mentioned should be added a reference to\nthe position allotted to intercalary months in the Norse calendar,\nnamely, at the end of the summer half, that is, as I think, at the\nend of the ancient Norse year.\n\n[144] My paper was read before the Folk-Lore Society in April or May,\n1891, and Miss Peacock's notes appeared in the journal of the Society\nin the following December: see pp. 509-13.\n\n[145] See Choice Notes, p. 76.\n\n[146] See the third edition of Wm. Nicholson's Poetical Works\n(Castle-Douglas, 1878), pp. 78, 81.\n\n[147] See p. 321 above and the references there given; also Howells'\nCambrian Superstitions, p. 58.\n\n[148] Pomponius Mela De Chorographia, edited by Parthey, iii, chap. 6\n(p. 72); see also my Hibbert Lectures, pp. 195-6, where, however,\nthe identification of the name Sena with that of Sein should be\ncancelled. Sein seems to be derived from the Breton Seidhun, otherwise\nmodified into Sizun and Sun: see chap. vi below.\n\n[149] See my Hibbert Lectures, pp. 195-7; also my Arthurian Legend,\npp. 367-8, where a passage in point is cited at length from Plutarch\nDe Defectu Oraculorum, xviii. (= the Didot edition of Plutarch's\nworks, iii. 511); the substance of it will be found given likewise\nin chap. viii below.\n\n[150] For an allusion to the traffic in winds in Wales see Howells,\np. 86, where he speaks as follows:--'In Pembrokeshire there was a\nperson commonly known as the cunning man of Pentregethen, who sold\nwinds to the sailors, after the manner of the Lapland witches, and\nwho was reverenced in the neighbourhood in which he dwelt, much more\nthan the divines.'\n\n[151] This may turn out to be all wrong; for I learn from the\nRev. John Quine, vicar of Malew, in Man, that there is a farm called\nBalthane or Bolthane south of Ballasalla, and that in the computus\n(of 1540) of the Abbey Tenants it is called Biulthan. This last,\nif originally a man's name, would seem to point back to some such a\ncompound as Beo-Ult\u00e1n. In his Manx Names, p. 138, Mr. Moore suggests\nthe possibility of explaining the name as bwoailtyn, 'folds or pens';\nbut the accentuation places that out of the question. See also the\nLioar Manninagh, iii. 167, where Mr. C. Roeder, referring to the\nsame computus passage, gives the name as Builthan in the boundary\ninter Cross Jvar Builthan. This would be read by Mr. Quine as inter\nCross Ivar et Biulthan, 'between Cross-Ivar and Bolthane.' For the\ntext of the boundary see Johnstone's edition of the Chronicon Manni\u00e6\n(Copenhagen, 1786), p. 48, and Oliver's Monumenta de Insula Manni\u00e6,\nvol. i. p. 207; see also Mr. Quine's paper on the Boundary of Abbey\nLands in the Lioar Manninagh, iii. 422-3.\n\n[152] I say 'approximately,' as, more strictly speaking, the ordinary\npronunciation is Sndaen, almost as one syllable, and from this arises\na variant, which is sometimes written Stondane, while the latest\nEnglish development, regardless of the accentuation of the Anglo-Manx\nform, which is Santon, pronounced S\u00e1ntn, makes the parish into a\nSt. Ann's! For the evidence that it was the parish of a St. Sanct\u00e1n\nsee Moore's Names, p. 209.\n\n[153] The Athen\u00e6um for April 1, 1893, p. 415. I may here remark that\nMr. Borlase's note on do fhagaint is, it seems to me, unnecessary: let\ndo fhagaint stand, and translate, not 'I leave' but 'to leave.' The\nletter should be consulted for curious matter concerning Croagh\nPatrick, its pagan stations, cup-markings, &c.\n\n[154] Since this paper was read to the Folk-Lore Society a good deal\nof information of one kind or another has appeared in its journal\nconcerning the first-foot: see more especially Folk-Lore for 1892,\npp. 253-64, and for 1893, pp. 309-21.\n\n[155] This was written at the beginning of the year 1892.\n\n[156] With this compare what Mr. Gomme has to say of a New Year's\nDay custom observed in Lanarkshire: see p. 633 of the Ethnographic\nReport referred to at p. 103 above, and compare Henderson, p. 74.\n\n[157] Old-fashioned grammarians and dictionary makers are always\ndelighted to handle Mrs. Partington's broom: so Kelly thinks he has\ndone a fine thing by printing guee, 'prayer,' and gwee, 'cursing.'\n\n[158] This was written at the end of 1892, and read to a joint meeting\nof the Cymmrodorion and Folk-Lore Societies on January 11, 1893.\n\n[159] Some account of them was given by me in Folk-Lore for 1892,\np. 380; but somehow or other my contribution was printed unrevised,\nwith results more peculiar than edifying.\n\n[160] In Folk-Lore for 1893, pp. 58-9.\n\n[161] In the neighbourhood I find that the word gwaeldyn in this verse\nis sometimes explained to mean not a worthless but an ailing person,\non the strength of the fact that the adjective gwael is colloquially\nused both for vile and for ailing.\n\n[162] Since writing the above remarks the following paragraph,\npurporting to be copied from the Liverpool Mercury for November 18,\n1896, appeared in the Arch\u00e6ologia Cambrensis for 1899, p. 334:--'Two\nnew fishes have just been put in the \"Sacred Well,\" Ffynnon y Sant,\nat Tyn y Ffynnon, in the village of Nant Peris, Llanberis. Invalids\nin large numbers came, during the last century and the first half of\nthe present century, to this well to drink of its \"miraculous waters\";\nand the oak box, where the contributions of those who visited the spot\nwere kept, is still in its place at the side of the well. There have\nalways been two \"sacred fishes\" in this well; and there is a tradition\nin the village to the effect that if one of the Tyn y Ffynnon fishes\ncame out of its hiding-place when an invalid took some of the water\nfor drinking or for bathing purposes, cure was certain; but if the\nfishes remained in their den, the water would do those who took it\nno good. Two fishes only are to be put in the well at a time, and\nthey generally live in its waters for about half a century. If one\ndies before the other, it would be of no use to put in a new fish,\nfor the old fish would not associate with it, and it would die. The\nexperiment has been tried. The last of the two fishes put in the well\nabout fifty years ago died last August. It had been blind for some\ntime previous to its death. When taken out of the water it measured\nseventeen inches, and was buried in the garden adjoining the well. It\nis stated in a document of the year 1776 that the parish clerk was to\nreceive the money put in the box of the well by visitors. This money,\ntogether with the amount of 6s. 4d., was his annual stipend.' Tyn y\nFfynnon means 'the Tenement of the Well,' tyn being a shortened form\nof tydyn, 'a tenement,'as mentioned at p. 33 above; but the mapsters\nmake it into ty'n = ty yn, 'a house in,' so that the present instance,\nTy'n y Ffynnon, could only mean 'the House in the Well,' which,\nneedless to say, it is not. But one would like to know whether the\nhouse and land were once held rent-free on condition that the tenant\ntook care of the sacred fish.\n\n[163] See Ashton's Iolo Goch, p. 234, and Lewis' Top. Dict.\n\n[164] See my Hibbert Lectures, p. 229, and the Iolo MSS., pp. 42-3,\n420-1.\n\n[165] A curious note bearing on this name occurs in the Jesus\nCollege MS. 20 (Cymmrodor, viii. p. 86) in reference to the name\nMorgannwg, 'Glamorgan':--O enw Morgant vchot y gelwir Morgannwc.\nEreill a dyweit. Mae o en&wwelsh; Mochteyrn Predein. 'It is from\nthe name of the above Morgan that Morgannwg is called. Others say\nthat it is from the name of the mochdeyrn of Pictland.' The\nmochteyrn must have been a Pictish king or m\u00f3rm\u00e1er called Morgan.\nThe name occurs in the charters from the Book of Deer in Stokes'\nGoidelica. pp. 109, 111, as Morcunt, Morcunn, and Morgunn undeclined,\nalso with Morgainn for genitive; and so in Skene's Chronicles of the\nPicts and Scots, pp. 77, 317, where it is printed Morgaind; see also\nStokes' Tigernach, in the Revue Celtique, xvii. 198. Compare\nGeoffrey's story, ii. 15, which introduces a northern Marganus to\naccount for the name Margan, now Margam, in Morgannwg.\n\n[166] M. Loth's remarks in point will be found in the Revue Celtique,\nxiii. 496-7, where he compares with tut the Breton teuz, 'lutin,\ng\u00e9nie malfaisant ou bienfaisant'; and for the successive guesses on\nthe subject of the name Morgan tut one should also consult Zimmer's\nremarks in Foerster's Introduction to his Erec, pp. xxvii-xxxi, and\nmy Arthurian Legend, p. 391, to which I should add a reference to the\nBook of Ballymote, fo. 360a, where we have o na bantuathaib, which\nO'Curry has rendered 'on the part of their Witches' in his Manners and\nCustoms of the Ancient Irish, iii. 526-7. Compare d\u00e1 bhantuathaigh,\n'two female sorcerers,' in Joyce's Keating's History of Ireland,\npp. 122-3.\n\n[167] For all about the Children of Lir, and about Liban and Lough\nNeagh, see Joyce's Old Celtic Romances, pp. 4-36, 97-105.\n\n[168] On my appealing to Cadrawd, one of the later editors, he\nhas found me the exact reference, to wit, volume ix of the Cyfaill\n(published in 1889), p. 50; and he has since contributed a translation\nof the story to the columns of the South Wales Daily News for February\n15, 1899, where he has also given an account of Crymlyn, which is to\nbe mentioned later.\n\n[169] Judging from the three best-known instances, y bala meant the\noutlet of a lake: I allude to this Bala at the outlet of Llyn Tegid;\nPont y Bala, 'the Bridge of the bala,' across the water flowing from\nthe Upper into the Lower Lake at Llanberis; and Bala Deulyn, 'the bala\nof two lakes,' at Nantlle. Two places called Bryn y Bala are mentioned\ns. v. Bala in Morris' Celtic Remains, one near Aberystwyth, at a spot\nwhich I have never seen, and the other near the lower end of the Lower\nLake of Llanberis, as to which it has been suggested to me that it is\nan error for Bryn y Bela. It is needless to say that bala has nothing\nto do with the Anglo-Irish bally, of such names as Ballymurphy or\nBallynahunt: this vocable is in English bailey, and in South Wales\nbeili, 'a farm yard or enclosure,' all three probably from the late\nLatin balium or ballium, 'locus palis munitus et circumseptus.' Our\netymologists never stop short with bally: they go as far as Balaklava\nand, probably, Ballarat, to claim cognates for our Bala.\n\n[170] Cadrawd here gives the Welsh as '2 bladur ... 2 dyd o wair,'\nand observes that the lacuna consists of an illegible word of three\nletters. If that word was either sef, 'that is,' or neu, 'or,' the\nsense would be as given above. In North Cardiganshire we speak of a\nday's mowing as gwaith gwr, 'a man's work for a day,' and sometimes\nof a gwaith gwr bach, 'a man's work for a short day.'\n\n[171] See By-Gones for May 24, 1899. The full name of Welshpool in\nWelsh is Trallwng Llywelyn, so called after a Llywelyn descended from\nCuneda, and supposed to have established a religious house there;\nfor there are other Trallwngs, and at first sight it would seem as if\nTrallwng had something to do with a lake or piece of water. But there\nis a Trallwng, for instance, near Brecon, where there is no lake to\ngive it the name; and my attention has been called to Thos. Richards'\nWelsh-English Dictionary, where a trallwng is said to be 'such a soft\nplace on the road (or elsewhere) as travellers may be apt to sink into,\na dirty pool.' So the word seems to be partly of the same derivation\nas go-llwng, 'to let go, to give way.' The form of the word in use\nnow is Trallwm, not Trallwng or Trallwn.\n\n[172] See the Book of the Dun Cow, fo. 39a-41b and Joyce's Old Celtic\nRomances, pp. 97-105; but the story may now be consulted in O'Grady's\nSilva Gadelica, i. 233-7, translated in ii. 265-9. On turning over\nthe leaves of this great collection of Irish lore, I chanced, i. 174,\nii. 196, on an allusion to a well which, when uncovered, was about to\ndrown the whole locality but for a miracle performed by St. Patrick to\narrest the flow of its waters. A similar story of a well bursting and\nforming Lough Reagh, in County Galway, will be found told in verse in\nthe Book of Leinster; fo. 202b: see also fo. 170a, and the editor's\nnotes, pp. 45, 53.\n\n[173] See Evans' autotype edition of the Black Book of Carmarthen,\nfos. 53b, 54a, also 32a: the punctuation is that of the MS. In the\nseventh triplet kedaul is written keadaul, which seems to mean kadaul\ncorrected into kedaul; but the a is not deleted, so other readings\nare possible.\n\n[174] In the Iolo MSS., p. 89, finaun wenestir is made into\nFfynon-Wenestr and said to be one of the ornamental epithets of the\nsea; but I am convinced that it should be rather treated as ffynnon\nfenestr with wenestir or fenestr mutated from menestr, which meant\na servant, attendant, cup-bearer: for one or two instances see\nPughe's Dictionary. The word is probably, as suggested by M. Loth\nin his Mots Latins, p. 186. the old French menestre, 'cup-bearer,'\nborrowed. Compare the mention of Necht\u00e1n's men having access to the\nsecret well in Sid Necht\u00e1in, p. 390 below, and note that they were\nhis three menestres or cup-bearers.\n\n[175] See the Cymmrodor, viii. 88 (No. xxix), where a Marereda is\nmentioned as a daughter of Madog son of Meredyd brother to Rhys Gryg.\n\n[176] There is another reading which would make them into Segantii,\nand render it irrelevant--to say the least of it--to mention them here.\n\n[177] See the Mabinogion, p. 35: the passage has been mistranslated\nin Lady Charlotte Guest's Mabinogion, iii. 117.\n\n[178] See my Arthurian Legend, pp. 263-4.\n\n[179] I do not profess to see my way through the difficulties which\nthe probable etymological connexion between the names Setantii,\nSetanta, Seithyn, and Seithennin implies. But parts of the following\nstring of guesses may be found to hold good:--Seithyn is probably\nmore correct than Seithin, as it rhymes with cristin = Cristyn (in\nCristynogaeth: see Silvan Evans' Geiriadur, s. v., and Skene's Four\nAncient Books, ii. 210); and it might be assumed to be from the same\nstem as Seizun; but, supposing it to represent an earlier Seithynt,\nit would equate phonologically with Setanta, better Setinte, of which\nthe genitive Setinti actually occurs, as a river name, in the Book of\nthe Dun Cow, fo. 125b: see my Hibbert Lectures, p. 455, and see also\nthe Revue Celtique, xi. 457. It would mean some such an early form\nSetntio-s, and Seithenhin, another derivative from the same stem,\nSetntino-s. But the retention of n before t in Setinte proves it\nnot to be unconnected with Seithyn, but borrowed from some Brythonic\ndialect when the latter was pronounced Seithntio-s. If this\nbe anywhere nearly right one has to assume that the manuscripts of\nPtolemy giving the genitive plural as Setanti\u00f4n or Seganti\u00f4n should\nhave read Sektanti\u00f4n, unless one should rather conjecture Segtanti\u00f4n\nwith cht represented by gt as in Ogams in Pembrokeshire: witness\nOgtene and Maqui Quegte. This conjecture as to the original reading\nwould suggest that the name was derived from the seventh numeral\nsechtn, just as that of the Galloway people of the Novant\u00e6 seems to\nbe from the ninth numeral. Ptolemy's next entry to the Harbour of the\nSetantii is the estuary of the Belisama, supposed to be the Mersey;\nand next comes the estuary of the Seteia or Segeia, supposed to be\nthe Dee. Now the country of the Setantii, when they had a country,\nmay have reached from their harbour near the mouth of the Ribble\nto the Seteia or the Dee without the name Seteia or Segeia having\nanything to do with their own, except that it may have influenced\nthe latter in the manuscripts of Ptolemy's text. Then we possibly\nhave a representative of Seteia or Segeia in the Saidi or Seidi,\nsometimes appended to Seithyn's name. In that case Seithyn Saidi,\nin the late Triad iii. 37, would mean Seithyn of Seteia, or the\nDee. A Mab Saidi occurs in the Kulhwch story (Mabinogion, p. 106),\nalso Cas, son of Saidi (ib. 110); and in Rhonabwy's Dream Kadyrieith,\nson of Saidi (ib. 160); but the latter vocable is Seidi in Triad ii. 26\n(ib. 303). It is to be borne in mind that Ptolemy does not represent\nthe Setantii as a people in his time: he only mentions a harbour\ncalled after the Setantii. So it looks as if they then belonged to the\npast--that in fact they were, as I should put it, a Goidelic people\nwho had been conquered and partly expelled by Brythonic tribes, to\nwit, by the Brigantes, and also by the Cornavii in case the Setantii\nhad once extended southwards to the Dee. This naturally leads one to\nthink that some of them escaped to places on the coast, such as Dyfed,\nand that some made for the opposite coast of Ireland, and that, by the\ntime when the C\u00fachulainn stories came to be edited as we have them,\nthe people in question were known to the redactors of those stories\nonly by the Brythonic form of their name, which underlies that of\nSetanta Beg, or the Little Setantian. Those of them who found a home\non the coast of Cardigan Bay may have brought with them a version\nof the inundation story with Seithennin, son of Seithyn, as the\nprincipal figure in it. So in due time he had to be attached to some\nroyal family, and in the Iolo MSS., pp. 141-2, he is made to descend\nfrom a certain Plaws Hen, king of Dyfed, while the saints named as\nhis descendants seem to have belonged chiefly to Gwyned and Powys.\n\n[180] See the Professor's Address on the Place of a University in the\nHistory of Wales, delivered at Bangor at the opening ceremony of the\nSession of 1899-1900 (Bangor, 1900), p. 6. The reference to Giraldus\nis to his Itin. Kambri\u00e6, i. 13 (p. 100), and the Expugnatio Hibernica,\ni. 36 (p. 284).\n\n[181] Instead of 'she followed it' one would have expected 'it followed\nher'; but the style is very loose and rough.\n\n[182] As a 'Cardy' I have here two grievances, one against my\nNorthwalian fellow countrymen, that they insist on writing Rheidiol\nout of sheer weakness for the semivowel i; and the other against\nthe compilers of school books on geography, who give the lake\naway to the Wye or the Severn. I am told that this does not matter,\nas our geographers are notoriously accurate about Natal and other\ndistant lands; so I ought to rest satisfied.\n\n[183] Professor Meyer has given a number of extracts concerning\nher in his notes to his edition of The Vision of Mac Conglinne\n(London, 1892), pp. 131-4, 208-10, and recently he has published\nThe Song of the Old Woman of Beare in the Otia Merseiana (London,\n1899), pp. 119-28, from the Trinity College codex, H. 3, 18, where\nwe are told, among other things, that her name was Digdi, and that\nshe belonged to Corcaguiny. The name B\u00e9ara, or B\u00e9rre, would seem to\nsuggest identification with that of Bera, daughter of Eibhear, king\nof Spain, and wife of Eoghan Taidhleach, in the late story of The\nCourtship of Mom\u00e9ra, edited by O'Curry in his Battle of Magh Leana\n(Dublin, 1855); but the other name Digdi would seem to stand in the\nway. However none of the literature in point has yet been discovered\nin any really old manuscript, and it may be that the place-name Berre,\nin Caillech B\u00e9rri, has usurped the place of the personal name B\u00e9ra,\nwhose antiquity in some such a form as B\u00e9ra or M\u00e9ra is proved by\nits honorific form Mo-mera: see O'Curry's volume, p. 166, and his\nIntroduction, p. xx.","title":"Celtic Folklore: Welsh and Manx (Volume 1 of 2)","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":150480}