WELSH FAIRIES
"Heaven defend me from that Welsh fairy."
Readers must not turn up their noses when they read the title of this
short chapter. Of course nobody believes in fairies nowadays, but in the
olden time most Welsh people did, and in other things more remarkable
even than "y Tylwyth Teg,"[14] such as giants and dragons. I could
relate a most interesting story of a giant who once lived (rather long
ago!) only about three miles from my own home; and there is a
respectable tradition of a terrible dragon having been seen--history
omits the date--flying over the town of Newcastle Emlyn. And I feel this
volume would be incomplete without a passing reference to one of the
most picturesque and romantic of the ancient Welsh beliefs. Sir John
Rhys, the great Celtic scholar, has said almost the last word on the
subject of Welsh fairy-lore, and there are indeed few crumbs of
information that he neglected to gather about the Fair Folk. But I do
not think he gleaned the two or three genuine fairy-tales which I found
in Mr. Lledrod Davies' little pamphlet, and which I have translated, and
will repeat here. For as folk-lore it is material far too valuable to be
lost in a publication already out of print, and in any case inaccessible
to people not conversant with the Welsh language. Personally I have only
come across two people who had anything to say about the Tylwyth Teg,
and they were not of the peasantry, but persons of antiquarian tastes,
who had noted the instances they referred to as curiosities of local
belief. So, though I have heard numbers of tales relating to
superstitions such as corpse-candles, the Toili, &c., yet I have never
myself heard a single _first-hand_ story about fairies, and I fancy
their disappearance from their old haunts dates very nearly from the
time that Board Schools were established in Wales. Education then
became--and very properly so--a practical and rather material business;
children were told that fairies were "silly," in fact, non-existent, and
so they learnt to despise the wonderful tales their parents and
grandparents knew, and would listen no more to them. So the old stories,
handed down by word of mouth through centuries, and always greedily
heard, and willingly remembered, were gradually forgotten; and as the
elder folk died out, were nearly all lost. A pity, for trivial and even
childish as they would sound to us who live in a world of scientific
wonders that those old people could never dream of, and no longer
require to feed our imagination with the marvellous and supernatural,
still all those ancient beliefs, legends and superstitions always seem
to me like the romance of life crystallised, and, as such, a very
precious thing. For Romance and Glamour grow rare as the world grows
older, though most of us have had a glimpse--even though a momentary
one--of what those two names mean. And the power to express them grows
less; I think most people will agree about that. But these old fairy
beliefs and curious traditions seem to transmit the true, romantic
atmosphere throughout the ages, bringing to our knowledge what our
forefathers thought and felt in that set of ideas not immediately
affected by their material necessities and circumstances. So that is why
I think almost any of these old tales are interesting and worth
preserving.
[Footnote 14: Literally, "Fair Family."]
W. Howells, who wrote that entertaining old book, "Cambrian
Superstitions," to which I have often referred, has a great deal to say
about Fair Folk, or Ellyllyn, or Bendith eu Mammau, for by these
different names were the fairies known in different districts. This is
what he tells us of their origin: "The following is the account related
in Wales of the origin of the fairies, and was told me by an individual
from Anglesey. In our Saviour's time there lived a woman whose fortune
it was to be possessed of near a score of children ... and as she saw
our blessed Lord approach her dwelling, being ashamed of being so
prolific, and that He might not see them all, she concealed about half
of them closely, and after His departure, when she went in search of
them, to her surprise found they were all gone. They never afterwards
could be discovered, for it was supposed that as a punishment from
heaven, for hiding what God had given her, she was deprived of them;
and, it is said, these her offspring have generated the race of beings
called fairies."
Howells also mentions the interesting belief formerly prevailing in
Pembrokeshire and Carmarthenshire concerning mysterious islands,
inhabited by fairies, who "attended regularly the markets at Milford
Haven and Laugharne, bought in silence their meat and other necessaries,
and leaving the money (generally silver pennies) departed, as if knowing
what they would have been charged. They were sometimes visible and at
other times invisible. The islands, which appeared to be beautifully and
tastefully arranged, were seen at a distance from land, and supposed to
be numerously peopled by an unknown race of beings. It was also imagined
that they had a subterraneous passage from these islands to the towns."
Our author tells us that both Cardiganshire and Carmarthenshire were
specially favoured by the Tylwyth Teg; he heard of them on the banks of
the Gwili (a tributary of the Towy), where "they made excursions to the
neighbouring farms to inspect the dairies, hearths, barn-floors, and
the 'ystafell,'[15] to reward the meritorious housemaid, and to punish
the slut and sluggard. It is said they were not partial at all to the
Gospel, and that they left Monmouthshire on account of there being so
much preaching, praying to, and praising God, which were averse to their
dispositions."
[Footnote 15: Rooms.]
It seems that there was a well-known tradition in Carmarthenshire about
one Iago ap Dewi, a man, Howells tells us, of considerable talent, who
translated the "Pilgrim's Progress" into Welsh. He lived in the parish
of Llanllawddog, and "was considered a wonderful man and of great
learning, as he spent the whole of his time in study and meditation;
that he was absent from the neighbourhood for a long period, and the
universal belief among the peasantry was, that Iago got out of bed one
night to gaze on the starry sky, as he was accustomed (astrology being
one of his favourite studies), and whilst thus occupied the fairies, who
were accustomed to resort to the neighbouring wood, passing by, carried
him away, and he dwelt with them seven years. Upon his return he was
questioned by many as to where he had been, but he always avoided giving
them a reply." Howells afterwards goes on to say that others with whom
he conversed related that "their parents credited the above story, and
that they had no question of the existence of fairies and their
wonderful exploits; but one Mary Shon Crydd said that when a child she
knew the daughter of Iago ap Dewi, and that she thought it very probable
that he had been from home with some learned characters, but the
superstition of the people led them to attribute his learning, &c., to
the interference of the fairies." Although it disposes of the fairy
idea, "Mary Shon Crydd's" explanation of Iago's absence, though prosaic,
was, I should think, the true one! But it is interesting to read of such
a tradition being extant in days so comparatively near our own.
All dwellers in the country are familiar with the appearance of "fairy
rings," those curious and inexplicable circles that occur in the grass
of meadows and lawns. No amount of mowing obliterates them, and probably
nothing short of digging up or ploughing would get rid of them. In Wales
these odd patches seem to have ever been regarded with a mixture of fear
and interest, as the undoubted haunts of the Tylwyth Teg, and were
carefully shunned in consequence, especially after nightfall. Howells
says, regarding these rings, that "no beasts will eat of them, although
some persons suppose that sheep will greedily devour the grass." He adds
that he had a friend who told him that when he was a child he was always
warned by his mother never to approach, much less enter, the rings, for
they were enchanted ground, and anybody going near them was liable to be
carried off by the Fair Folk. In connection with the fairies' practice
of kidnapping human beings, there are many stories in "Cambrian
Superstitions," most of which have one feature in common, namely, that
when the people thus carried off returned to this upper world--in the
cases where they did return, but that did not always happen--they always
supposed they had been but a few moments absent, though the period had
often run into years, as in Iago ap Dewi's case.
Giraldus Cambrensis, in his "Itinerary through Wales," in the twelfth
century, heard many marvels, and not the least of these was the tale of
one Elidorus, a priest, who in his youth had been carried off by the
fairies, and by them held in captivity for many years. According to
Giraldus, he made some use of his time amongst them by learning their
language, which he is said to have told the Bishop of St. David's much
resembled the Greek idiom!
I will now proceed with Mr. Lledrod Davies' account of the Tylwyth Teg,
as he heard of them in Cardiganshire, not so very many years ago.
* * * * *
"In collecting and noting down these few tales from an older generation,
it is useless to try and trace their source in the history of the old
times before ours. It is enough for readers to know now that there were
always 'little people' of that kind in Wales, and that our ancestors
were very sociable and friendly with them. I take the following tales
from some I heard by word of mouth in the country of Teify-side.
"Small of stature were the Tylwyth Teg, towards two feet in height, and
their horses of the size of hares. Fair of aspect were they, and very
fine their clothing; their clothes were generally white, but on certain
occasions they are said to have been seen dressed in green; their gait
was lively, and ardent and loving was their glance. Very mischievous if
thwarted, kind and good-natured otherwise. And--speaking from the human
point of view--they were thieves by inclination, and therefore it was
considered rather dangerous to have them coming round houses, as they
regarded all property as shared in common....
"They were peaceful and kindly amongst themselves, diverting in their
tricks, and charming in their walk and dancing. They were good-natured
to good-natured people, and hateful to those who hated them. They were
subterranean people, therefore in the earth was their home. There were
their country, their cities, and their castles, and there lived their
King. And from thence they made their incursions into the Earth-country,
in some way that nobody can guess or know, nor is there any hope of any
one ever knowing."
* * * * *
Our author goes on to information about the fairy rings, and has two
stories to relate of people who disappeared in them.
THE FAIRY RINGS
A number of these rings are shown by the old people all through the
country; I myself remember many of them. They were of various
appearance; sometimes the circle was but small, again others were seen
as large as a mill-wheel.... These rings were the places where the
Tylwyth Teg came to dance on fine, bright nights. The circles were only
to be seen on marshy meadow-ground, and sometimes on hay land. On a
moonlight night was the time to see these rings, because then the fairy
folk came out of their hiding-places to whirl and dance about; and so
they may be seen until the Son of the Dawn[16] opens his eyes and causes
them to disappear. On the following morning the keen-eyed may see the
mark of their feet on the meadow. The grass that surrounds the rings is
thicker than the rest, because no animal will feed on the spot where the
fairies have been. So these circles remained by day as the Tylwyth Teg
had shaped them; and they were considered places it was best to keep
away from, except in broad daylight while the owner of cattle was always
alarmed if he saw his animals go near them. There was great danger in
approaching the rings when the Fair Folk were dancing; for there was
such magic in their melody, such allurement in their appearance, and
such an attraction in their whirling, that it was impossible for any
one who came near to resist their charm. If within their enchanted
circle they could entice a handsome youth, or a pure maiden, nevermore
would they be seen in this world. In some cases people have been
kidnapped accidentally and against their will.
[Footnote 16: _I.e._, the sun.]
Such a one, and who lived with them for a year, was the servant of Allt
Ddu. This farm stood half-way along the road between Pontrhydyfendigaid
and Tregaron. It is said that this servant and another one left the
house at dusk to look for some cattle--yearlings and two-year-olds--that
had strayed that morning.... So, as was natural to do in such a case,
one servant took one road and his companion the other, so as to be sure
of coming across them. But after hours spent in searching, one of the
men returned; how he found the cattle is not related, but at least they
came back in safety. And as it was very late--indeed nearly morning--he
felt anxious about the safety of his fellow-servant, as he was afraid
some accident had befallen him in one of the bog-holes of Gors Goch.
Morning came but no servant, and not a sound of his footsteps returning.
Then inquiries were made, but no sign or syllable could be heard of him.
Days and weeks passed by, and now, doubt arose about his fate amongst
his relations, for they began to suspect that his fellow-servant was the
cause of his disappearance, and had murdered him and concealed his
body. So the other labourers, night after night, accused the poor man of
the crime; and though the young fellow protested his innocence in the
most emphatic manner, yet appearances were against him; he could not
satisfy their doubts, and a black mark stood against his name. At last,
whatever happened, he determined to go to a "wise man" (a person of
uncommon importance in those days) and ask him point-blank if he could
tell what had happened. So he went, and laid the case before the "wise
man," who told him that his companion was alive, but that a year and a
day must elapse before they would see him again, and that then they must
seek him at the very hour when he was lost.
So, after weary waiting, a year and a day passed by, and the
long-expected hour arrived. And then the missing man's family, with the
servant at their head, betook themselves to the appointed glade; and
there, to their amazement, whom should they see in the midst of a fairy
ring, dancing as gaily and happily as any one, but the lost youth. Then,
according as the wise man had directed, his fellow-servant seized him by
his coat collar and dragged him away, saying to him, "Where hast thou
been, lad?"
The other replied, "Hast thou got the cattle?" He thought he had been at
that spot only two or three minutes. When it was explained to him that
he had been in the fairy ring, and how he had been stolen by them, he
said they had been such good company that he never supposed he had been
more than a few minutes with them. And great was the joy at recovering
the lost one.
THE MAIDEN WHO WAS LOST IN A FAIRY RING
I will only tax the reader's patience with two of the tales about these
fairy rings, because we come across such tales in various forms all
through the country. But the extraordinary case of the disappearance of
the maiden in this story is excuse enough, I think, for introducing it
into this book of memories.
In an old farm on Teify-side there lived a very respectable family; and
in order to carry on the work of the farm briskly they kept both men and
maid servants. On a certain evening a servant man and maid went out to
fetch the cattle home for milking, and all of a sudden the man lost
sight of the maid, and, although he searched and called, no sign of her
or sound of her voice reached him. He went back with the cows, and told
the family of the mysterious disappearance of the girl. From the evil
reputation that the Tylwyth Teg had in those parts, it was decided to
consult a "wise man" at once. Away they went to him, and after answering
the usual inquiries he said the girl had been snatched into the fairies'
ring and that she was with them now. If they were careful they might get
her back after a year and a day, if they would go to the appointed place
at the proper time.
All was done as the wise man directed, and great was their astonishment
to perceive the maiden dancing away in the midst of the Fair Folk, and,
as they were instructed, they seized and drew her out of the magic
circle, happy and in good health.
Her master was told by the wise man to be careful never to touch her
with iron after she was rescued. At first he was very particular about
this, but as time went on they all got careless, and at last one day,
just as she had dressed to go on an errand, he accidentally touched her
with a horse's bridle; when, as suddenly as pulling a cat out of the
fire, he entirely lost sight of the maid. He rushed off at once to the
wise man for help, but was told that the girl was gone never to return.
We may observe further, in this connection, that it was formerly
supposed that the Tylwyth Teg always hovered round about dwelling-houses
watching people, especially at night. And in all likelihood, according
to this story, they had kept an eye on the maiden ever since she was
taken away from them.
THE TIME OF THEIR DANCING
The fairies' dancing took place when spring began, and continued
throughout the summer. But spring, as a rule, was the season of their
merriment, and at that time children would be lost, yes, and people of
full age too. Readers will surely have heard these tales of children
being stolen and returning again after some years; of the frequent
visitation by the Tylwyth Teg of families in a neighbourhood, of their
boldness as winter began, and their anger if every family were not
careful to put money, food, and such things in convenient places near
the hearth, so that when the fairies came they could take what they
wanted without difficulty. They required great cleanliness of every
woman and girl they met with. If care was not taken in these respects,
their curse was sure to fall on the family, in years to come. Night was
the time when they visited the earth, and from midnight till morning
they enjoyed themselves frolicking about hay-fields and marsh-lands.
They were very sociable beings. So much so that it was with difficulty
they were got rid of once they got their heads into the houses of any
neighbourhood. The only way to get rid of them was to throw rusty iron
at them. To do this was like spitting in the face of God, the greatest
insult you could hurl at them. Away they went at once, never to return
except for deeds of vengeance....
It may be observed, amongst their other characteristics, that they only
inhabited certain parts of the country. The neighbourhood of Swydd
Ffynon was especially distinguished by them. All around there would be
seen the "rings" on every fine morning in spring and summer, while other
parts of Wales were entirely ignorant of these fairy circles, and never
a sign or sight of them was to be had.
THE FAIRY OINTMENT
In the quiet village of Swydd Ffynon there lived an old woman who died
about twenty years ago, when drawing near her hundredth year. She was
very fond of old stories; in a word, she simply lived on them. She was
in her element when relating ancient tales of the adventures of the
Welsh folk, and according to her they were full of adventures in those
days. And amongst others, she told the following story about her
grandmother: This grandmother when young, seems to have been a pious and
thoughtful person, very fond of the society of invisible beings, and the
inhabitants of the spirit-world. Also, by some means or other, she got
into communication with the Fair Folk, and became great friends with
them; her hearth became a kind of rendezvous for them; and so faithful
was she to them that she thoroughly gained their favour and confidence,
such a thing as seldom happens to human beings. So fond of her were they
that they invited her to go with them to one of their palaces under the
earth, to which she heartily consented. When she got there she found
herself in the most beautiful and stately house her eyes had ever seen;
in truth, never had she imagined such a place was possible. How she went
there she did not know; all she knew was that she had left the Earth
country, and was now an inhabitant of a region she had not dreamed could
exist; but she went there and returned in some way entirely unknown to
herself.
At last one day she found herself summoned to the fairy country on an
errand as nurse to the wife of one of their princes, who lived in a
palace magnificent to a degree that exceeds earthly language to express.
There were splendid ornaments, costly pearls, a golden pavement,
partitions hung with silks of varying hue, and the garments of the
people all changing white and blue. Indeed the old woman was puzzled to
describe the splendours of the house, clothes and so on. There was
installed the nurse, and her charge, the fairy infant, slept on a bed of
down, with coverings of the finest lawn. Everything she wanted was
complete and at hand. The nurse was amazed at such perfection, and
astonished that a person like herself should have been summoned by such
princely people. While tending the baby night and morning, she had to
anoint him with a certain ointment. When this ointment was given her,
she was told to be careful not to let it touch the eyes, as it was
injurious and even destructive to the sight. At first her fear of the
ointment caused her to be very careful in using it, but as time went by
she grew forgetful. So in a little while, as she was anointing the
infant one day, something accidentally tickled her eye, and at once her
hand, faithful to its owner, went up to the eye and rubbed it gently.
Immediately it was as if a veil fell from her eyes, and she began to see
things a thousand times more wonderful than before. In the course of the
day she saw many a marvellous and splendid vision. She saw the Fair Folk
quite plainly, little men and women, going and coming through the
palace, and carrying presents of every kind to her lady. No lack of
dainties was brought her, the purest kindness and affection were
displayed. Later on, when undressing the child, she remarked to the
princess on the number of visitors she had had that day.
"How do you know that?" asked the princess, "have you anointed your eyes
with the ointment?" And in the flash of an eyelid she leapt from her
couch, and striking one hand with the other, she blew on the nurse's
eyes, which immediately lost sight of the enchanted surroundings, and
though she tried hard in future days, nevermore did she see the
princess, or any of the fair family or their doings.
And so, without knowing how, she found herself by her own fireside at
home, just as usual, and that was the last of her stories about the
Tylwyth Teg. And I also leave them here, for though I could add other
stories to these I have noted, I have written enough about them now. I
knew the old woman who told this story, and she always insisted she was
the grandchild of the fairies' nurse, and, moreover, was very proud of
the fact, and not without cause either.
* * * * *
I should have mentioned earlier that in translating Mr. Lledrod Davies'
tales, I have left the names of places exactly as he had them. Where
they are filled in they are the real ones, several of them places I
know. It will be noticed that he often makes use of the expression
"Teify-side." Now that name we generally apply to the district of the
lower Teify, lying more or less between the towns of Llandyssil and
Cardigan. But from what Mr. Davies says, he evidently includes in this
term all the upper valley of the Teify too, which rises in the hills not
many miles away from his native village, and most of his stories are
located more or less in that neighbourhood. It is, or was until late
years, a remote and lonely district, backed by the wild moors of the
Ellineth Mountains, that to this day look as if they might be the last
refuge of all the fairies, ghosts, and goblins of Wales. With these
mountain wastes behind, and the gloomy stretch of the great Tregaron
bog before them, is it any wonder that the imaginative Celtic
inhabitants of Pontrhydyfendigaid and the surrounding hamlets saw, and
wished to see, evidences of the supernatural in almost every unimportant
coincidence? To them it came natural to believe in those
"Faery elves,
Whose midnight revels, by a forest-side,
Or fountain, some belated peasant sees,
Or dreams he sees, while overhead the moon
Sits arbitress."
George Borrow tells us that when he was walking through Cardiganshire,
he came one evening to a large sheet of water not far from Tregaron. He
must needs find out the name of this little lake, and therefore knocked
at the door of a cottage that happened to be close by, in order to ask
the information. A woman opened the door, of whom Borrow seems to have
asked a great many tiresome questions, after his usual habit; but this
time he elicited the curious information from his victim that a fairy
cow was supposed to live in the lake, a "water-cow, that used to come
out at night, and eat people's clover in the fields." That odd tradition
was living only sixty years ago, which is interesting to think of.
Now I have told the little I have been able to gather about the Tylwyth
Teg and their ways, and so we will bid them farewell, and turn to more
serious subjects.