THE FAIRIES (TYLWYTH TEG).
"In olde dayes of King Artour,
Of which the Bretons speken gret honour,
All was this lond fulfilled of Faerie;
The elf-quene with hire joly compagnie
Danced ful oft in many a grene mede.
This was the old opinion as I rede,
I speke of many hundred yeres ago;
But now can no man see non elves mo."
--Chaucer.
A book dealing with Superstitions and popular beliefs would be
incomplete without assigning a prominent place to the Fairies, or
"Tylwyth Teg," as they are called in Welsh. It is true that in Wales,
as in other places, the Fairies have become things of the past;
but even in the present day many old people, and perhaps others,
still believe that such beings did once exist, and that the reason
why they are not now to be seen is that they have been exorcised.
Many of the Welsh Fairy Tales date from remote antiquity and are, in
common with like legends of other countries, relics of the ancient
mythology, in which the natural and the supernatural are blended
together.
ORIGIN OF FAIRIES.
Concerning the imaginary origin of the Fairies, it was once a belief
in Wales that they were the souls of the virtuous Druids, who not
having been Christians, could not enter into heaven, but were too
good to be cast into hell!
Another curious belief was that 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 she found they were
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 the Fairies.
As to the realistic origin of the Fairies, according to the theories
of the learned, they were either the ancient Aborigines, living
in seclusion so as to hide themselves from their more powerful
conquerors, or the persecuted Druids living in subterraneous places,
venturing forth only at night. Whether ancient Aborigines hiding from
their conquerors or the Druids who were persecuted by both Romans
and Christians the Rev. P. Roberts, author of "Collectana Cambrica,"
observes that they used these means to preserve themselves and their
families, and whilst the country was thinly peopled, and thickly
wooded did so successfully, and perhaps to a much later period than
is imagined.
There are dwelling at the present day on the river-banks of the
Congo, in Africa, tribes of dwarfs, whose existence, until Sir Harry
Johnston's recent discovery had been regarded as a myth; though they
must have lived there from time immemorial.
They exist in caves, and in their ways recall the
fairies. "Undoubtedly," says Sir Harry, "to my thinking, most fairy
myths arose from the contemplation of the mysterious habits of dwarf
troglodite races lingering on still in the crannies, caverns, forests
and mountains of Europe, after the invasion of neolithic man."
FAIRY NAMES.
The Fairies are spoken of as people, or folk, not as myths or goblins,
and yet as spirits they are immortal, and able to make themselves
invisible.
The most general name given them in Wales is "Y Tylwyth Teg," (the
Fair Family, or Folk); but they are known sometimes as "Bendith
y Mamau" (the Mothers' Blessing); and the term "gwragedd Annwn,"
(dames of the lower regions), is often applied to the Fairy Ladies
who dwelt in lakes or under lakes. Sometimes such terms as "Plant
Annwn," (children of the lower regions); Ellyll an elf; Bwbach etc.,
were applied to them, but such appellations have never been in common
use. They were also known as "Plant Rhys Ddwfn" in some parts of the
Vale of Teivy, more especially in the neighbourhood of Cardigan. But
the general term Tylwyth Teg, is known everywhere.
FAIRY DRESS, DWELLING, ETC.
The Fairies were small handsome creatures in human form; very kind
to, and often showered benefits on those who treated them kindly, but
most revengeful towards those who dared to treat them badly. They were
dressed in green, and very often in white, and some of their maidens
were so beautiful, that young men sometimes would fall over head and
ears in love with them, especially whilst watching them dancing on
a moonlight night; for the old belief was concerning the Fairies,
that on moonlight nights they were wont to join hands, and form into
circles, and dance and sing with might and main until the cock crew,
then they would vanish.
The circles in the grass of green fields are still called "Cylchau
y Tylwyth Teg" (Fairy Rings). These circles were numerous in Wales
when I was a boy; and it was believed by many about forty years ago,
if not later that some misfortune would befall any person entering
these circles, for I well remember being warned to keep away from
them. At the present time, however, I do not know of any person who is
afraid of entering them; so it seems that the superstition respecting
the Fairy Rings has entirely died out during the last generation.
As to their dwellings, the Fairies were "things under the earth," for
they were generally supposed to dwell in the lower regions, especially
beneath lakes, where their country towns and castles were situated;
and the people on the coasts of Pembrokeshire imagined that they
inhabited certain enchanted green isles of the sea.
The green meadows of the sea, called in the old Welsh Triads Gwerddonau
Llion, are the:
"Green fairy islands, reposing,
In sunlight and beauty on ocean's calm breast."
A British King in ancient times, whose name was Garvan is said to have
sailed away in search of these islands, and never returned. Garvan's
voyage is commemorated in the Triads as one of the "Three Losses by
Disappearance." Southey after citing Dr. W. O. Pughe's article in the
"Cambrian Biography," goes on as follows:--
"Of these Islands, or Green Spots of the Floods, there are some
singular superstitions. They are the abode of the Tylwyth Teg, or the
fair family, the souls of the virtuous Druids, who not having been
Christians, cannot enter the Christian Heaven, but enjoy this heaven
of their own. They, however, discover a love of mischief, neither
becoming happy spirits, nor consistent with their original character;
for they love to visit the earth, and seizing a man, inquire whether
he will travel above wind, mid-wind, or below wind; above wind is
a giddy and terrible passage, below wind is through bush and brake,
the middle is a safe course. But the spell of security is, to catch
hold of the grass. In their better moods they come over and carry
the Welsh in their boats. He who visits these islands imagines on
his return that he has been absent only a few hours, when, in truth,
whole centuries have past away. If you take a turf from St. David's
Churchyard, and stand upon it on the sea shore, you behold these
Islands. A man once who thus obtained sight of them, immediately put
to sea to find them; but his search was in vain. He returned, looked
at them again from the enchanted turf, again set sail, and failed
again. The third time he took the turf into his vessel, and stood upon
it till he reached them." Wirt Sikes, in his "British Goblins," page 8,
says that there are sailors on the romantic coasts of Pembrokeshire,
and southern Carmarthenshire who still talk of the green meadows of
enchantment, which are visible sometimes to the eyes of mortals, but
only for a brief space, and they suddenly vanish. He also adds that
there are traditions of sailors who, in the early part of the 19th
century, actually went ashore on the fairy islands--not knowing that
they were such, until they returned to their boats, when they were
filled with awe at seeing the islands disappear from their sight,
neither sinking in the sea, nor floating away upon the waters, but
simply vanishing suddenly. In the account I have just given, a turf
from St. David's Churchyard to stand upon enabled one to behold the
enchanted lands of the Fairies; but according to traditions in other
parts of the country, it seems that a certain spot in Cemmes was the
requisite platform, to see these mythical beings who were known in
some parts as Plant Rhys Ddwfn (Children of Rhys the Deep).
In the Brython, Vol. I., page 130, Gwynionydd says as follows:--
"There is a tale current in Dyfed, that there is, or rather that
there has been a country between Cemmes, the Northern Hundred of
Pembrokeshire, and Aberdaron in Lleyn. The chief patriarch of the
inhabitants was Rhys Ddwfn, and his descendants used to be called
after him the Children of Rhys Ddwfn.
"They were, it is said, a handsome race enough, but remarkably small
in size. It is stated that certain herbs of a strange nature grew in
their land, so that they were able to keep their country from being
seen by even the most sharp-sighted invaders.
"There is no account that these remarkable herbs grew in any other
part of the world, excepting on a small spot, a square yard in area
in a certain part of Cemmes. If it chanced that a man stood alone
on it, he beheld the whole of the territory of Plant Rhys Ddwfn;
but the moment he moved he would lose sight of it altogether, and it
would have been nearly vain to look for his footprints."
FAIRIES MARRYING MORTALS.
In some of the stories about Fairies, we find Fairy Ladies marrying
mortals, but always conditionally, and in the end the husband does
some prohibited thing which breaks the marriage contract, and his
Fairy wife vanishes away. The most beautiful Fairy Legend of this
kind is undoubtedly the
LADY OF LLYN Y VAN VACH IN CARMARTHENSHIRE.
Several versions have appeared from time to time of this story,
but the most complete one is the one which appeared in Mr. Rees, of
Tonn, in his interesting introduction to "The Physicians of Myddvai,"
published by the Welsh Manuscript Society, at Llandovery, in 1861;
and this is also the version which was reproduced by Principal Sir
J. Rhys, of Oxford, in his great work on Celtic Folk-lore.
About five years ago, I came across several old persons in the parish
of Myddvai, who could repeat portions of the story, but nothing new,
so I give the version of Mr. Rees of Tonn, which is as follows:--
"When the eventful struggle made by the Princes of South Wales to
preserve the independency of their country was drawing to its close
in the twelfth century, there lived at Blaensawdde, near Llandeusant,
Carmarthenshire, a widowed woman, the relict of a farmer who had fallen
in those disastrous troubles. The widow had an only son to bring up,
but Providence smiled upon her, and despite her forlorn condition,
her live stock had so increased in course of time, that she could
not well depasture them upon her farm, so she sent a portion of her
cattle to graze on the adjoining Black Mountain, and their most
favourite place was near the small lake called Llyn y Fan Fach,
on the north-western side of the Carmarthenshire Fans.
The son grew up to manhood, and was generally sent by his mother to
look after the cattle on the mountain. One day, in his peregrinations
along the margin of the lake, to his great astonishment, he beheld
sitting on the unruffled surface of the water, a lady, one of the most
beautiful creatures that mortal eyes ever beheld, her hair flowed
gracefully in ringlets over her shoulders, the tresses of which
she arranged with a comb, whilst the glassy surface of her watery
couch served for the purpose of a mirror, reflecting back her own
image. Suddenly she beheld the young man standing on the brink of
the lake, with his eyes riveted on her, and unconsciously offering
to herself the provision of barley bread and cheese with which he
had been provided when he left his home.
"Bewildered by a feeling of love and admiration for the object
before him, he continued to hold out his hand towards the lady, who
imperceptibly glided near to him, but gently refused the offer of
his provisions. He attempted to touch her, but she eluded his grasp,
saying:--
"Cras dy fara;
Nid hawdd fy nala.
Hard baked is thy bread!
'Tis not easy to catch me."
and immediately dived under the water and disappeared, leaving the
love-stricken youth to return home, a prey to disappointment and
regret that he had been unable to make further acquaintance with one,
in comparison with whom the whole of the fair maidens of Llanddeusant
and Myddfai whom he had ever seen were as nothing.
"On his return home, the young man communicated to his mother the
extraordinary vision he had beheld. She advised him to take some
unbaked dough or "toes" the next time in his pocket, as there must
have been some spell connected with the hard-baked bread, or "Bara
cras," which prevented his catching the lady.
"Next morning, before the sun had gilded with its rays the peaks of
the Fans, the young man was at the lake, not for the purpose of looking
after his mother's cattle, but seeking for the same enchanting vision
he had witnessed the day before; but all in vain did he anxiously
strain his eyeballs and glance over the surface of the lake, as only
the ripples occasioned by a stiff breeze met his view, and a cloud
hung heavily on the summits of the Fan, which imparted an additional
gloom to his already distracted mind.
Hours passed on, the wind was hushed, and the clouds which had
enveloped the mountain had vanished into thin air before the powerful
beams of the sun, when the youth was startled by seeing some of his
mother's cattle on the precipitous side of the acclivity, nearly on the
opposite side of the lake. His duty impelled him to attempt to rescue
them from their perilous position, for which purpose he was hastening
away, when to his inexpressible delight, the object of his search again
appeared to him as before, and seemed much more beautiful than when he
first beheld her. His hand was again held out to her, full of unbaked
bread, which he offered with an urgent proffer of his heart also, and
vows of eternal attachment. All of which were refused by her saying:--
"Llaith dy fara,
Ti ni fynna'."
(Unbaked is thy bread!
I will not have thee.)
But the smiles that played upon her features as the lady vanished
beneath the waters raised within the young man a hope that forbade
him to despair by her refusal of him, and the recollection of which
cheered him on his way home. His aged parent was made acquainted
with his ill-success, and she suggested that his bread should next
time be but slightly baked, as most likely to please the mysterious
being of whom he had become enamoured.
"Impelled by an irresistible feeling, the youth left his mother's
house early next morning, and with rapid steps he passed over the
mountain. He was soon near the margin of the lake, and with all the
impatience of an ardent lover did he wait with a feverish anxiety
for the reappearance of the mysterious lady.
"The sheep and goats browsed on the precipitous sides of the Fan;
the cattle strayed amongst the rocks and large stones, some of which
were occasionally loosened from their beds and suddenly rolled down
into the lake; rain and sunshine alike came and passed away; but all
were unheeded by the youth, so wrapped up was he in looking for the
appearance of the lady.
"The freshness of the early morning had disappeared before the sultry
rays of the noon-day sun, which in its turn was fast verging towards
the west as the evening was dying away and making room for the shades
of night, and hope had well nigh abated of beholding once more the
Lady of the Lake. The young man cast a sad and last farewell look
over the water, and to his astonishment, beheld several cows walking
along its surface. The sight of these animals caused hope to revive
that they would be followed by another object far more pleasing; nor
was he disappointed, for the maiden reappeared, and to his enraptured
sight, even lovelier than ever. She approached the land, and he rushed
to meet her in the water. A smile encouraged him to seize her hand;
neither did she refuse the moderately baked bread he offered her; and
after some persuasion she consented to become his bride, on condition
that they should only live together until she received from him three
blows without a cause,
"Tri ergyd diachos."
(Three causeless blows.)
and if he ever should happen to strike her three such blows she would
leave him for ever. To such conditions he readily consented and would
have consented to any other stipulation, had it been proposed, as he
was only intent on then securing such a lovely creature for his wife.
"Thus the Lady of the Lake engaged to become the young man's wife,
and having loosened her hand for a moment she darted away and dived
into the lake. His chagrin and grief were such that he determined
to cast himself headlong into the deepest water, so as to end his
life in the element that had contained in its unfathomed depths the
only one for whom he cared to live on earth. As he was on the point
of committing this rash act, there emerged out of the lake two most
beautiful ladies, accompanied by a hoary-headed man of noble mien
and extraordinary stature, but having otherwise all the force and
strength of youth. This man addressed the almost bewildered youth in
accents calculated to soothe his troubled mind, saying that as he
proposed to marry one of his daughters, he consented to the union,
provided the young man could distinguish which of the two ladies
before him was the object of his affections. This was no easy task,
as the maidens were such perfect counterparts of each other that it
seemed quite impossible for him to choose his bride, and if perchance
he fixed upon the wrong one all would be for ever lost.
"Whilst the young man narrowly scanned the two ladies, he could not
perceive the least difference betwixt the two, and was almost giving
up the task in despair, when one of them thrust her foot a slight
degree forward. The motion, simple as it was, did not escape the
observation of the youth, and he discovered a trifling variation in
the mode with which their sandals were tied. This at once put an end
to the dilemma, for he, who had on previous occasions been so taken
up with the general appearance of the Lady of the Lake, had also
noticed the beauty of her feet and ankles, and on now recognising
the peculiarity of her shoe-tie he boldly took hold of her hand.
"'Thou hast chosen rightly,' said her father, 'be to her a kind and
faithful husband, and I will give her, as a dowry, as many sheep,
cattle, goats, and horses as she can count of each without heaving or
drawing in her breath. But remember, that if you prove unkind to her
at any time, and strike her three times without a cause, she shall
return to me, and shall bring all her stock back with her.'"
Such was the verbal marriage settlement, to which the young man gladly
assented, and his bride was desired to count the number of sheep she
was to have.
She immediately adopted the mode of counting by fives, thus:--one,
two, three, four, five--one, two, three, four, five; and as many times
as possible in rapid succession, till her breath was exhausted. The
same procession of reckoning had to determine the number of goat,
cattle, and horses respectively; and in an instant the full number
of each came out of the lake when called upon by the father.
"The young couple were then married, by what ceremony was not stated,
and afterwards went to reside at a farm called Esgair Llaethy,
somewhat more than a mile from the Village of Myddfai, where they
lived in prosperity and happiness for several years, and became the
parents of three sons, who were beautiful children.
"Once upon a time there was a christening to take place in the
neighbourhood, to which the parents were specially invited. When the
day arrived the wife appeared very reluctant to attend the christening,
alleging that the distance was too great for her to walk. Her husband
told her to fetch one of the horses which were grazing in an adjoining
field. 'I will,' said she, 'if you will bring me my gloves which
I left in our house.' He went to the house and returned with the
gloves, and finding that she had not gone for the horse jocularly
slapped her shoulder with one of them, saying, 'go! go!' (dos, dos),
when she reminded him of the understanding upon which she consented
to marry him:--That he was not to strike her without a cause; and
warned him to be more cautious for the future.
"On another occasion, when they were together at a wedding in the midst
of the mirth and hilarity of the assembled guests, who had gathered
together from all the surrounding country, she burst into tears and
sobbed most piteously. Her husband touched her on her shoulder and
inquired the cause of her weeping: she said, 'Now people are entering
into trouble, and your troubles are likely to commence, as you have
the second time stricken me without a cause.'
"Years passed on, and their children had grown up, and were
particularly clever young men. In the midst of so many worldly
blessings at home, the husband almost forgot that there remained
only one causeless blow to be given to destroy the whole of his
prosperity. Still he was watchful lest any trivial occurrence should
take place which his wife must regard as a breach of their marriage
contract. She told him, as her affection for him was unabated, to be
careful that he would not, through some inadvertence, give the last
and only blow, which, by an unalterable destiny over which she had
no control, would separate them for ever.
"It, however, so happened that one day they were together at a funeral,
where, in the midst of the mourning and grief at the house of the
deceased, she appeared in the highest and gayest spirits, and indulged
in immoderate fits of laughter, which so shocked her husband that
he touched her, saying: 'Hush! hush! don't laugh.' She said that she
laughed 'because people when they die go out of trouble,' and rising
up she went out of the house, saying, 'The last blow has been struck,
our marriage contract is broken, and at an end! Farewell!' Then she
started off towards Esgair Llaethdy, where she called her cattle and
other stock together, each by name. The cattle she called thus:--
Mu wlfrech,
Mu olfrech, gwynfrech,
Pedair cae tonn-frech,
Yr hen wynebwen.
A'r las Geigen,
Gyda'r Tarw gwyn
O lys y Brenin;
A'r llo du bach,
Sydd ar y bach,
Dere dithe, yn iach adre!
Brindled cow, white speckled,
Spotted cow, bold freckled,
The four field sward mottled,
The old white-faced,
And the grey Geigen,
With the white Bull,
From the court of the King;
And the little black calf
Tho' suspended on the hook,
Come thou also, quite well home."
They all immediately obeyed the summons of their mistress. The
'little black calf,' although it had been slaughtered, became alive
again, and walked off with the rest of the stock at the command of
the lady. This happened in the spring of the year, and there were
from four oxen ploughing in one of the fields; to these she cried:--
"Pedwar eidion glas sydd ar y maes,
Deuwch chwithau yn iach adre!
The four grey oxen, that are on the field,
Come you also quite well home!"
Away the whole of the live stock went with the Lady across Myddfai
Mountain, towards the lake from whence they came, a distance of above
six miles, where they disappeared beneath its waters, leaving no trace
behind except a well-marked furrow, which was made by the plough the
oxen drew after them into the lake, and which remains to this day as
a testimony to the truth of this story.
"What became of the affrighted ploughman--whether he was left on the
field when the oxen set off, or whether he followed them to the lake,
has not been handed down to tradition; neither has the fate of the
disconsolate and half-ruined husband been kept in remembrance. But of
the sons it is stated that they often wandered about the lake and its
vicinity, hoping that their mother might be permitted to visit the face
of the earth once more, as they had been apprised of her mysterious
origin, her first appearance to their father, and the untoward
circumstances which so unhappily deprived them of her maternal care.
"In one of their rambles, at a place near Dol Howel, at the Mountain
Gate, still called 'Llidiad y Meddygon,' (The Physician's Gate), the
mother appeared suddenly, and accosted her eldest son, whose name
was Rhiwallon, and told him that his mission on earth was to be a
benefactor to mankind by relieving them from pain and misery, through
healing all manner of their diseases; for which purpose she furnished
him with a bag full of medical prescriptions and instructions for the
preservation of health. That by strict attention thereto he and his
family would become for many generations the most skilful physicians
in the country. Then, promising to meet him when her counsel was most
needed, she vanished. But on several occasions she met her sons near
the banks of the lake, and once she even accompanied them on their
return home as far as a place still called 'Pant-y-Meddygon,' (The
dingle of the Physicians) where she pointed out to them the various
plants and herbs which grew in the dingle, and revealed to them
their medicinal qualities or virtues; and the knowledge she imparted
to them, together with their unrivalled skill, soon caused them to
attain such celebrity that none ever possessed before them. And in
order that their knowledge should not be lost, they wisely committed
the same to writing for the benefit of mankind throughout all ages.
And so ends the story of the Physicians of Myddfai, which had been
handed down from one generation to another, thus:--
"Yr hen wr llwyd o'r cornel,
Gan ei dad a glywodd chwedel,
A chan ei dad fy glywodd yntau,
Ac ar ei ol mi gofiais innau."
"The grey old man in the corner
Of his father heard a story,
Which from his father he had heard,
And after them I have remembered."
The Physicians of Myddfai were Rhiwallon and his sons, Cadwgan,
Gruffydd and Einion, who became Physicians to Rhys Gryg, Lord of
Llandovery and Dynefor Castles, who lived in the early part of the
thirteenth century. Rhys "gave them rank, lands, and privileges at
Myddfai for their maintenance in the practice of their art and science,
and the healing and benefit of those who should seek their help."
The fame of the celebrated Physicians was soon established over the
whole country, and continued for centuries among their descendants;
and the celebrated Welsh Poet Dafydd ap Gwilym, who flourished in
the fourteenth century, says in one of his poems when alluding to
these physicians:--
"Meddyg, nis gwnai modd y gwnaeth
Myddfai, o chai ddyn meddfaeth."
(A Physician he would not make
As Myddfai made, if he had a mead fostered man.)
Mr. Rees says that "of the above lands bestowed upon the Meddygon,
there are two farms in the Myddfai parish still called "Llwyn Ifan
Feddyg," the Grove of Evan, the Physician, and "Llwyn Meredydd Feddyg"
(the Grove of Meredydd the Physician). Esgair Llaethdy, mentioned
in the foregoing legend, was formerly in the possession of the
above descendants, and so was Ty-newydd, near Myddfai, which was
purchased by Mr. Holford, of Cilgwyn, from the Rev. Charles Lloyd,
vicar of Llandefalle, Breconshire, who married a daughter of one of
the Meddygon, and had the living of Llandefalle from a Mr. Vaughan,
who presented him to the same out of gratitude, because Mr. Lloyd,
wife's father had cured him of a disease in the eye. As Mr. Lloyd
succeeded to the above living in 1748, and died in 1800, it is
probable that that skilful oculist was John Jones, who is mentioned
in the following inscription on a tombstone at present fixed against
the west end of Myddfai
HERE
Lieth the body of Mr. David Jones, of Mothvey, Surgeon,
who was an honest, charitable and skilful man,
He died September 14th, Anno Dom. 1719, aged 61.
JOHN JONES, SURGEON,
Eldest son of the said David Jones, departed this life the
25th of November, 1739, in the 4th year of his Age,
and also lyes interred hereunder.
These appear to have been the last of the Physicians who practised at
Myddfai. The above John Jones resided for some time at Llandovery,
and was a very eminent surgeon. One of his descendants, named John
Lewis, lived at Cwmbran, Myddfai, at which place his great-grandson,
Mr. John Jones, now resides.
"Dr. Morgan Owen, Bishop of Llandaff, who died at Glasallt, parish of
Myddfai, in 1645, was a descendant of the Meddygon, and an inheritor
of much of their landed property in that parish, the bulk of which
he bequeathed to his nephew, Morgan Owen, who died in 1667, and was
succeeded by his son Henry Owen; and at the decease of the last
of whose descendants, Roberts Lewis, Esqr., the estates became,
through the will of one of the family, the property of the late
D. A. S. Davies, Esqr., M.P., for Carmarthenshire.
"Bishop Owen bequeathed to another nephew, Morgan ap Rees, son of
Rees ap John, a descendant of the Meddygon, the farm of Rhyblid,
and some other property.
"Amongst other families who claim descent from the Physicians were
the Bowens of Cwmydw, Myddfai, and Jones of Dollgarreg and Penrhock,
in the same parish; the latter of whom are represented by Charles
Bishop, of Dollgarreg, Esqr., Clerk of the Peace for Carmarthenshire,
and Thomas Bishop, of Brecon, Esqr.
"Rees Williams, of Myddfai, is recorded as one of the Meddygon. His
great grandson was the late Rice Williams, M.D., of Aberystwyth,
who died May l6th, 1842, aged 85, and appears to have been the last,
although not the least eminent of the Physicians descended from the
mysterious Lady of Llyn y Fan."
Sir John Rhys mentions of another Dr. Williams also a descendant of
the Lady of Llyn y Fan, who was living at Aberystwyth in 1881.
It seems that there are several families in different parts of
Wales who are said to have fairy blood coursing through their veins;
and the noble Lady Bulkeley, who lived in North Wales, three or four
generations was supposed to be descended from a Fairy lady who married
a mortal.
There is also a tradition that after the disappearance of the lady
the disconsolate husband and his friends set to work to drain the
lake in order to get at her, if possible; but as they were making
a cutting into the bank a huge monster emerged from the water and
threatened to drown the town of Brecon for disturbing him, saying:--
"Os na cha'i lonydd yn fy lle
Mi fodda, dre Byrhonddu!"
(If I get no quiet in my place
I shall drown the town of Brecon).
so they had to give up draining the lake.
There are extant several versions of the Myddfai Legend. In the
"Cambro Briton" Vol. II., pages 313-315, we have a version in which
it is stated that the farmer used to go near the lake and see some
lambs he had bought at a fair, and that wherever he so went three
most beautiful maidens appeared to him from the lake. But whenever
he tried to catch them they ran away into the lake, saying:--
"Cras dy fara,
Anhawdd ein dala."
(For thee who eatest baked bread
It is difficult to catch us.)
But one day a piece of moist bread came floating ashore, which
he ate, and the next day he had a chat with the maidens. After a
little conversation he proposed marriage to one of them, to which
she consented, provided he could distinguish her from her sisters
the day after. Then the story goes on very similar to Mr. Rees'
version which I have already given in full.
In another beautiful version of the story which is given by Sikes in
his "British Goblins," it is said that an enamoured farmer had heard
of the lake maiden, who rowed up and down the lake in a golden boat,
with a golden oar. Her hair was long and yellow, and her face was
pale and melancholy. In his desire to see this wondrous beauty, the
farmer went on New Year's Eve to the edge of the lake and in silence,
awaited the coming of the first hour of the new year. It came, and
there in truth was the maiden in her golden boat, rowing softly to and
fro. Fascinated, he stood for hours beholding her, until the stars
faded out of the sky, the moon sank behind the rocks, and the cold
gray dawn drew nigh; and then the maiden began to vanish from his
sight. Wild with passion, he cried aloud to the retreating vision,
"Stay! Stay! Be my wife." But the maiden only uttered a faint cry,
and was gone. Night after night the young farmer haunted the shores
of the lake, but the maiden returned no more. He became negligent
of his person; his once robust form grew thin and wan; his face
was a map of melancholy and despair. He went one day to consult
a soothsayer who dwelt on the mountain, and this grave personage
advised him to besiege the damsel's heart with gifts of bread and
cheese. This counsel commending itself strongly to his Welsh way of
thinking, the former set out upon an assiduous course of casting his
bread upon the waters--accompanied by cheese. He began on Mid-summer
Eve by going to the lake and dropping therein a large cheese and a
loaf of bread. Night after night he continued to throw in loaves and
cheeses, but nothing appeared in answer to his sacrifices. His hopes
were set, however, on the approaching New Year's Eve. The momentous
night arrived at last. Clad in his best array, and armed with seven
white loaves and his biggest and handsomest cheese, he set out once
more for the lake. Then he waited till mid-night, and then slowly
and solemnly dropped the seven loaves into the water, and with a
sigh sent the cheese to keep them company. His persistence was at
length rewarded. The Lake Lady came in her skiff to where he was,
and gracefully stepped ashore. The story then proceeds as in the
other versions.
It was once a custom for people to go up to the lake on the first
Sunday in August, when its water was supposed to be boiling; and
Bishop Edwards, of St. Asaph, informed Professor Sir J. Rhys, that
"an old woman from Myddfai, who is now, that is to say in January,
1881, about eighty years of age, tells me that she remembers thousands
and thousands of people visiting the Lake of Little Fan on the first
Sunday or Monday in August, and when she was young she often heard
old men declare that at that time a commotion took place in the lake,
and that its waters boiled, which was taken to herald the approach
of the Lake Lady and her oxen."--Celtic Folk Lore--page 15.
A STUDENT WHO HAD FAILED TO PASS HIS EXAMINATIONS TAUGHT BY THE
FAIRIES.
Mr. John Jones, of Pontrhydfendigaid, an old man of over 95 years of
age, related to me the following story about seven years ago:--
In the 18th century there was a certain clergyman in North
Cardiganshire, who was supposed to have been educated by the Fairies.
When he was a boy, his parents were very ambitious to see their son a
clergyman, but, unfortunately, the lad either neglected his studies,
or was a regular "blockhead," and always failed to pass his college
examinations, to the great regret and disappointment of his father
and mother. One day, however, when the boy was roaming about the
country (near the banks of the river Rheidol, as far as Mr. Jones
could remember the story), he suddenly met three boys, or rather
three little men who were not bigger than boys, who took him into
some cave and led him along a subterranean passage into the land
of the Fairies. The Fairies proved very kind to him, and when they
heard his story, they undertook to help him to learn his lessons,
so that in course of time he acquired a considerable knowledge of
the classics. After spending a certain number of years very happily
in Fairy Land, the young man returned to the world of mortals, and
to the great joy of his parents passed his examinations now without
the least difficulty, and in due time was ordained by the bishop, and
became a vicar of a parish north of Aberystwyth, either Llanfihangel,
Llancynfelin, or Eglwysfach.
This tale seems to be a version of the Story of Elidorus, which
Giraldus Cambrensis heard in the neighbourhood of Swansea during his
"Itinerary through Wales," with Archbishop Baldwin in the year 1188,
which is as follows:--
"A short time before our days, a circumstance worthy of note occurred
in these parts, which Elidorus, a priest, most strenuously affirmed
had befallen himself. When a youth of twelve years, and learning his
letters, since, as Solomon says, "The root of learning is bitter,
although the fruit is sweet," in order to avoid the discipline and
frequent stripes inflicted on him by his perceptor, he ran away, and
concealed himself under the hollow bank of a river. After fasting
in that situation for two days, two little men of pigmy stature
appeared to him, saying, 'If you come with us, we will lead you into
a country full of delights and sports.' "Assenting, and rising up, he
followed his guides through a path, at first subterraneous and dark,
into a most beautiful country, adorned with rivers and meadows, woods
and plains, but obscure, and not illuminated with the full light of
the sun." All the days were cloudy, and the nights extremely dark,
on account of the absence of the moon and stars. The boy was brought
before the King, and introduced to him in the presence of the court;
who, having examined him for a long time, delivered him to his
son, who was then a, boy. "These men were of the smallest stature,
but very well proportioned in their make; they were all of a fair
complexion, with luxuriant hair falling over their shoulders like that
of women. "They had horses and greyhounds adapted to their size. "They
neither ate flesh nor fish, but lived on milk diet, made up into messes
with saffron. "They never took an oath, for they detested nothing so
much as lies. "As often as they returned from our upper hemisphere,
they reprobated our ambition, infidelities, and inconstances; they
had no form of public worship, being strict lovers and reverers, as
it seemed, of truth. "The boy frequently returned to our hemisphere,
sometimes by the way he had first gone, sometimes by another; at first
in company with other persons, and afterwards alone, and made himself
known only to his mother, declaring to her the manners, nature and
state of that people. "Being desired by her to bring a present of
gold, with which that region abounded, he stole, while at play with
the King's son, the golden ball with which he used to divert himself,
and brought it to his mother in great haste; and when he reached the
door of his father's house, but not unpursued, and was entering it in
a great hurry, his foot stumbled on the threshold, and falling down
into the room where his mother was sitting, the two pigmies seized
the ball which had dropped from his hand, and departed, showing the
boy every mark of contempt and derision. "On recovering from his fall,
confounded with shame, and execrating the evil counsel of his mother,
he returned by the usual track to the subterraneous road, but found no
appearance of any passage, though he searched for it on the banks of
the river for nearly the space of a year. "But since those calamities
are often alleviated by time, which reason cannot mitigate, and length
of time alone blunts the edge of our afflictions, and puts an end
to many evils, the youth having been brought back by his friends and
mother, and restored to his right way of thinking, and to his learning,
in process of time attained the rank of priesthood. "Whenever David
II., bishop of St. David's, talked to him in his advanced state of
life concerning this event, he could never relate the particulars
without shedding tears. "He had made himself acquainted with the
language of that nation, the words of which, in his younger days he
used to recite, which, as the bishop often had informed me, were very
conformable to the Greek idiom. "When they asked for water, they said
'ydor ydorum,' which meant bring water, for 'ydor' in their language,
as well as in Greek, signifies water, from whence vessels for water
are caller 'udriai'; and 'Dur' (dwr) also, in the British language
(Welsh) signifies water.
"When they wanted salt they said, 'Halgein ydorum,' bring salt: salt
is called 'al' in Greek, and 'halen' in British, for that language,
from the length of time which the Britons (then called Trojans, and
afterwards Britons, from Brito, their leader), remained in Greece
after the destruction of Troy, became in many instances, similar
to the Greek.... "If a scrupulous inquirer asks my opinion of the
relation here inserted, I answer with Augustine, 'that the Divine
miracles are to be admired, not discussed.' "Nor do I, by denial,
place bounds to the Divine Power, nor, by assent, insolently extend
what cannot be extended. "But I always call to mind the saying
of St. Jerome: 'You will find,' says he, 'Many things incredible
and improbable, which nevertheless are true; for nature cannot in
any respect prevail against the Lord of nature.' "These things,
therefore, and similar contingencies, I should place, according to
the opinion of Augustine, among those particulars which are neither
to be affirmed, nor too positively denied." The above account is of
the greatest interest, as it was written 700 years ago, and it also
gives the opinion of one who lived in those days, of "these things,
and similar contingencies." It is possible that many of the Fairy
Tales throughout the Kingdom, if not throughout the whole of Europe,
have been founded on the story of Elidorus, the priest.
THE SHEPHERD BOY AND THE FAIRIES OF FRENIFAWR.
The following story appeared in the "Cambrian Superstitions," by
W. Howells, a little book published at Tipton in 1831:--
A stripling, of twelve or more years of age, was tending his father's
sheep on a small mountain called Frenifach, it was a fine morning
in June, and he had just driven the sheep to their pasture for the
day, when he looked at the top of Frenifawr to observe which way the
morning fog declined, that he might judge the weather.
If the fog on Frenifawr (a high mountain in Pembrokeshire, 10 miles
from Cardigan) declines to the Pembrokeshire side, the peasants
prognosticated fair, if on the Cardiganshire side foul weather.
To his surprise the boy saw what seemed a party of soldiers sedulously
engaged in some urgent affair; knowing there could not possibly be
soldiers there so early, he with some alarm, looked more minutely,
and perceived they were too diminutive for men; yet, thinking his
eyesight had deceived him, he went to a more elevated situation, and
discovered that they were the "Tylwyth Teg" (Fairies) dancing. He had
often heard of them and had seen their rings in the neighbourhood,
but not till then had the pleasure of seeing them; he once thought of
running home to acquaint his parents, but judging they would be gone
before he returned, and he be charged with a falsehood, he resolved
to go up to them, for he had been informed that the fairies were
very harmless, and would only injure those who attempted to discover
their habitation, so by degrees he arrived within a short distance of
the ring, where he remained some time observing their motions. They
were of both sexes, and he described them as being the most handsome
people he had ever seen, they also appeared enchantingly cheerful,
as if inviting him to enter and join the dance.
They did not all dance, but those who did, never deviated from the
circle; some ran after one another with surprising swiftness, and
others (females), rode on small white horses of the most beautiful
form. Their dresses, although indescribably elegant, and surpassing
the sun in radiance, varied in colour, some being white, others
scarlet, and the males wore a red triplet cap, but the females some
light head-dress, which waved fantastically with the slightest
breeze. He had not remained long ere they made signs for him to
enter, and he gradually drew nearer till at length he ventured to
place one foot in the circle, which he had no sooner done than his
ears were charmed with the most melodious music, which moved him in
the transport of the moment, to enter altogether; he was no sooner
in than he found himself in a most elegant palace, glittering with
gold and pearls; here he enjoyed every variety of pleasure, and
had the liberty to range whatever he pleased, accompanied by kind
attendants beautiful as the howries; and instead of "Tatws a llaeth,"
buttermilk, or fresh boiled flummery, here were the choicest viands
and the purest wine in abundance, brought in golden goblets inlaid
with gems, sometimes by invisible agency, and at other times by the
most beautiful virgins. He had only one restriction, and that was
not to drink, upon any consideration (or it was told him it would
be fatal to his happiness), from a certain well in the middle of
the garden, which contained golden fishes and others of various
colours. New objects daily attracts his attention, and new faces
presented themselves to his view, surpassing, if possible those he
had seen before; new pastimes were continually invented to charm him,
but one day his hopes were blasted, and all his happiness fled in an
instant. Possessing that innate curiosity nearly common to all, he,
like our first parents transgressed, and plunged his hand into the
well, when the fishes instantly disappeared, and, putting the water to
his mouth, he heard a confused shriek run through the garden: in an
instant after, the palace and all vanished away, and to his horror,
he found himself in the very place where he first entered the ring,
and the scenes around, with the same sheep grazing, were just as he
had left them. He could scarcely believe himself, and hoped again,
that he was in the magnificent fairy castle; he looked around, but the
scene was too well known; his senses soon returned to their proper
action, and his memory proved that, although he thought he had been
absent so many years, he had been so only so many minutes.
This tale bears a strange contrast as regards the time the boy thought
he was away, to most of our fairy tales which represent those who
had the pleasure of being with fairies as imagining they had been
dancing only a few minutes, when they had been away for years.
FAIRY MUSIC AND DANCING.
The Rev. Z. M. Davies, Vicar of Llanfihangel Genau'r Glyn, told me that
he once heard an old man in the Vale of Aeron saying that when he was
out late one night, he heard the Fairies singing, and that their music
was so delightful that he listened to them for hours; and we find from
many of the Fairy Tales that one of their chief occupation in their
nightly revels was singing and dancing, and that they often succeeded
in inducing men through the allurements of music to join their ranks.
The beautiful old Welsh Air, "Toriad y Dydd" (Dawn of Day) is supposed
to have been composed by the Fairies, and which they chanted just as
the pale light in the east announced the approach of returning day.
The following "Can y Tylwyth Teg," or the Fairies' song, was well-known
once in Wales, and these mythical beings were believed to chant it
whilst dancing merrily on summer nights.
"O'r glaswellt glan a'r rhedyn mân,
Gyfeillion dyddan, dewch.
'E ddarfu'r nawn--mae'r lloer yn llawn,
Y nos yn gyflawn gewch;
O'r chwarau sydd ar dwyn y dydd,
I'r Dolydd awn ar daith,
Nyni sydd lon, ni chaiff gerbron,
Farwolion ran o'n gwaith.
"Canu, canu, drwy y nos,
Dawnsio, dawnsio, ar waen y rhos,
Yn ngoleuni'r lleuad dlos:
Hapus ydym ni!
Pawb o honom sydd yn llon,
Heb un gofid dan ei fron:
Canu, dawnsio, ar y ton--
Dedwydd ydym ni!"
"From grasses bright, and bracken light,
Come, sweet companions, come,
The full moon shines, the sun declines.
We'll spend the night in fun;
With playful mirth, we'll trip the earth,
To meadows green let's go
We're full of joy, without alloy,
Which mortals may not know.
"Singing, singing, through the night,
Dancing, dancing, with our might,
Where the moon the moor doth light;
Happy ever we!
One and all of merry mein,
Without sorrow are we seen,
Singing, dancing, on the green:
Gladsome ever we!"
MR. EDWARD JONES, PENCWM, LLANRHYSTID, AND THE FAIRIES.
Mr. Edward Jones, Pencwm, who only died about 8 years ago, was coming
home from Lampeter one moonlight night, and when he came to the top
of Trichrug hill, he saw the Fairies dancing in a field close to
the road. When he was within a certain distance of them he felt as
if his feet were almost lifted up from the ground, and his body so
light that he could almost stand in the air.
My informant, Mr. D. Morgan, Carpenter, Llanrhystid, added that
Mr. Jones was an intelligent and educated man, who had travelled,
and was far from being superstitious.
A FARM SERVANT NEAR TREGARON, WHO SPENT A YEAR AND A DAY WITH THE
FAIRIES.
The following story appeared in "Cymru" for May, 1893, a Welsh
Magazine, edited by Owen M. Edwards, M.A. It was written in Welsh by
the late eminent Folk-Lorist, Mr. D. Lledrod Davies, and I translate
it:--
The farm-house called "Allt Ddu," is situated about half-way between
Pont Rhyd Fendigaid and Tregaron.
It is said that two servant men went out of the house one evening in
search for the cattle, which had gone astray. One of the men proceeded
in one direction and the other in another way, so as to be more sure
of finding the animals.
But after wandering about for hours, one of the two servants came home,
but whether he found the cattle or not it is not stated. However,
he reached home safely; but the other man, his fellow-servant, came
not, and after anxiously expecting him till a late hour of night, he
began to feel very uneasy concerning his safety, fearing that the lad
had accidentally fallen into some of the pits of the Gors Goch. Next
morning came, but the servant came not home; and in vain did they long
to hear the sound of his footsteps approaching the house as before.
Then inquiries were made about him, and people went to try and find
him, but all in vain. Days past and even weeks without hearing anything
about him, till at last his relations began to suspect that his fellow
servant had murdered him during the night they were out looking for
the cattle. So the servant was summoned before a Court of Justice,
and accused of having murdered his fellow-servant on a certain night;
but the young man, pleaded not guilty in a most decided manner, and
as no witness could be found against him, the case was dismissed;
but many people were still very suspicious of him, and the loss of his
fellow servant continued to be a black spot on his character. However,
it was decided at last to go to the "dyn hysbys," (a wise man, or a
conjurer)--a man of great repute in former days,--to consult with him,
and to set the case before him exactly as it had happened. After going
and explaining everything to the conjurer concerning the lost servant,
he informed them that the young man was still alive.
He then told them to go to a certain place at the same time of night,
one year and a day from the time the man was lost, and that they
should then and there see him. One year and a day at last passed away,
and at that hour the family, and especially the servant, traced their
steps to the particular spot pointed out by the conjuror, and there,
to their great surprise, whom should they see within the Fairy Circle,
dancing as merrily as any, but the lost servant. And now, according to
the directions which had been given by the conjurer, the other servant
took hold of the collar of the coat of the one who was dancing, and
dragged him out of the circle, saying to him--"Where hast thou been
lad?" But the lad's first words were, "Did you find the cattle?" for
he thought that he had been with the Fairies only for a few minutes.
Then he explained how he entered the Fairy Circle, and how he was
seized by them, but found their company so delightful that he thought
he had been with them only for a few minutes.
THE SERVANT GIRL WHO WAS LOST IN THE FAIRY CIRCLE.
The following is another of the tales recorded in "Ystraeon y Gwyll,"
by the late D. Lledrod Davies:--
"There lived in an old farm house on the banks of the Teivy, a
respectable family, and in order to carry on the work of the farm
successfully, they kept men servants and maid servants.
One afternoon, a servant-man and a servant girl went out to look
for the cows, but as they were both crossing a marshy flat, the man
suddenly missed the girl, and after much shouting and searching,
no sound of her voice could be heard replying. He then took home
the cows, and informed the family of the mysterious disappearance of
the servant maid which took place so suddenly. As the Fairies were
suspected, it was resolved to go to the dyn hysbys (wise man).
To him they went, and he informed them that the girl was with the
Fairies, and that they could get her back from them, by being careful
to go to a certain spot at the proper time at the end of a year
and a day. They did as they were directed by the "wise man," and to
their great surprise, found the maid among the fairies dancing and
singing with them, and seemed as happy as a fish in the water. Then
they successfully drew her out of the ring, and they took her home
safely. The master had been told by the "Wise Man" that the girl
was not to be touched by iron, or she would disappear at once after
getting her out of the ring.
One day, however, when her master was about to start from home,
and whilst he was getting the horse and cart ready, he asked the
girl to assist him, which she did willingly; but as he was bridling
the horse, the bit touched the girl and she disappeared instantly,
and was never seen from that day forth.
THE LITTLE SERVANT BOY AND THE BARM.
The following story was related to me by Mrs. Davies, Bryneithyn,
in the neighbourhood of Ystrad Meurig, where the tale is well-known:--
An old woman known as Nancy of Pen Gwndwn, kept a little boy servant,
whom she sent one evening to the neighbouring village with a bottle to
get some barm for her, and as he had to pass through a field which was
frequented by the Fairies, he was told by the old woman to keep away
from their circles or rings. The boy reached the village, got the barm,
and in due time proceeded on his homeward journey, but did not reach
home. Search was made for him in all directions, and people were able
to trace his steps as far as the Fairies' field, but no further, so
it was evident that the Fairies had seized him. At the end of a year
and a day, however, to the great surprise of everybody, the boy came
home, entered the house, with the bottle of barm in hand, and handed
it to the old woman as if nothing unusual had happened. The boy was
greatly surprised when he was told that he had been away for twelve
months and a day. Then he related how he fell in with the Fairies,
whom he found such nice little men, and whose society was so agreeable
that he lingered among them, as he thought, for a few minutes.
A CARMARTHENSHIRE MAIDEN WHO GOT INTO A FAIRY RING.
In the parish of Cynwil Elvet, there is a farmhouse called Fos Anna,
a place which was known to the writer of this book once when a boy:--
A servant girl at this farm once went rather late in the evening
to look for the cows, and, unfortunately, got into the Fairy ring,
and although she had been a long period without food she did not
feel hungry.
IAGO AP DEWI AMONG THE FAIRIES SEVEN YEARS.
A Carmarthenshire tradition names among those who lived for a period
among the Fairies no less a person than the translator into Welsh of
Bunyan's "Pilgrim's Progress."
"He was called Iago ap Dewi, and lived in the parish of Llanllawddog,
in a cottage situated in the wood of Llangwyly. 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, 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 always avoiding
giving them a reply."
A district famous for Fairies long ago was the parish of Llanedi
in Carmarthenshire, and Mr. Williams, says in his "Llen Gwerin Sir
Gaerfyrddin," that an intelligent old man in that parish, named John
Rees, gave him the following story of
A MAN WHO WAS FOUND AMONG THE FAIRIES AT CAE CEFN PANTYDWR.
This story which is similar to some of the tales I have already given
as located in other parts is as follows:--
A certain man of Llanedi, on one occasion long ago, went away to
another neighbourhood, leading by the "penwast" (collar) a very
wild and unmanageable horse; and in order to be sure not to lose
his hold of the animal, the man tied the end of the collar round
the middle. So both man and horse went together and got lost. After
much searching the horse was found without the collar, but nothing
was heard of the man. After giving up searching for him as hopeless,
they at last consulted a "Dyn Hysbys," (a conjuror or a wise man). The
wise man directed them to go on a certain night into a field known
as Cae Cefn Pantydwr, about forty yards from the road where the
Fairies could be seen dancing, and the lost man among them, with the
"penwast" still around his waist, which would enable them to know him;
and the way to get him out of the Fairy Ring was to watch him coming
round in the dance, and take hold of the collar when an opportunity
offered itself, and drag the man out boldly. They did so, and the
man was rescued. Ever since then people dreaded going to that field
after dark, especially children.
In some parts of Carmarthenshire, Fairy Rings are known as "Rings
y Gwr Drwg" (the rings of the Old Gentleman), suggesting that the
Fairies had some connection with the evil one.
SON OF LLECH Y DERWYDD AND THE FAIRIES.
The writer of the following tale was the late Rev. Benjamin Williams
(Gwynionydd), an eminent antiquarian, Folk-Lorist, and a bard, and
it is to be found in Welsh in Y Brython, vol. III., page 460. It is
evident that the scene of the story was West or Mid-Wales. Mr. Williams
heard the tale from old people who believed in the truth of it:--
"Yr oedd mab Llech y Derwydd yn unig blentyn ei rieni, ac hefyd yn
etifedd y tyddyn. Yr oedd felly yn anwyl, ie, yn ddau lygad ei dad
a'i fam.
"Yr oedd y pen gwas a mab y ty yn gyfeillion mynwesol iawn, fel dau
frawd, ie, fel gyfeilliaid. Gan fod y mab a'r gwas y fath gyfeillion,
byddai gwraig y ty bob amser yn darpar dillad i'r gwas yr un peth yn
hollol ag i'r mab. Cwympodd y ddau gyfaill mewn serch a dwy ddynes
ieuainc, brydferth, ac uchel eu parch yn yr ardal, a mawr oedd y
boddineb yn Llech y Derwydd; ac yn fuan ymunodd y ddau bar mewn
glan briodas, a mawr fu y rhialtwch ar yr amser. Cafodd y gwas le
cyfleus i fyw ar dir Llech y Derwydd. Yn mhen tua haner blwyddyn ar
ol priodi o'r mab, aeth ei gyfaill ac yntau allan i hela; enciliodd
y deiliad i ryw gilfach lawn o anialwch, i edrych am helwriaeth; a
dychwelodd yn y man at ei gyfaill, ond erbyn dyfod yno, nid oedd modd
gweled y mab yn un man. Parhaodd i edrych o gwmpas am dro gan waeddi
a chwibanu, ond dim un arwydd am ei gyfaill. Yn mhen tro aeth adref
i Llech y Derwydd, gan ddysgwyl ei weled yno; ond ni wyddai neb ddim
am dano. Mawr oedd y gofid yn y teulu drwy y nos; ac erbyn dranoeth
yr oedd eu pryder yn llawer mwy. Aethpwyd i weled y fan lle y gwelodd
ei gyfaill ef olaf. Wylai ei fam a'i wraig am y gwaethaf. Yr oedd y
tad dipyn yn well na'i wraig a'i fam, ond edrychai yntau fel yn haner
gwallgof. Edrychwyd ar y fan olaf y gwelodd y deiliad ef, ac er eu
mawr syndod a'u gofid, canfyddasent gylch y Tylwyth Teg gerllaw y fan,
a chofiodd y deiliad yn y man iddo glywed swn peroriaeth hudoliaethus
iawn rywle ar y pryd. Penderfynwyd ar unwaith iddo fod mor anffodus
a myned i gylch y Tylwyth, a chael ei gludo ymaith na wyddid i ba le.
"Aeth wythnosau a misoedd gofidus heibio, a ganwyd mab i fab Llech
y Derwydd; ond nid oedd y tad ieuanc yno i gael gweled ei blentyn,
ac yr oedd hyny yn ofidus iawn gan yr hen bobl. Beth bynag, daeth y
dyn bach i fyny yr un ddelw a'i dad, fel pe buasai wedi ei arlunio; a
mawr ydoedd yng ngolwg ei daid a'i nain. Efe oedd pobpeth yno. Tyfodd
i oedran gwr, a phriododd a merch landeg yn y gymydogaeth; ond nid
oedd gair da i'r tylwyth eu bod yn bobl hawddgar.
"Bu farw yr hen bobl, a bu farw y ferch-yng-nghyfraith hefyd. Ar
ryw brydnawn gwyntog, ym mis Hydref, gwelai teulu Llech y Derwydd
henafgwr tal, teneu, a'i farf a'i wallt fel yr eira, yr hwn a dybient
ydoedd Iddew, yn dynesu yn araf araf at y ty. Hylldremiai y morwynion
drwy y ffenestr, a chwarddai y feistress am ben yr 'hen Iddew,' gan
godi y plant un ar ol y llall i'w weled yn dyfod. Daeth at y drws,
a daeth i mewn hefyd yn lled eofn, gan ofyn am ei rieni. Atebai
y wraig ef yn daeog, a choeglyd anghyffredin, gan ddywedyd, 'Beth
oedd yr hen Iddew meddw yn dyfod yno,' oblegid tybient ei fod wedi
yfed, onid e ni fuasai yn siarad felly. Edrychai yr hen wr yn syn a
phryderus iawn ar bob peth yn y ty, gan synu llawer; ond ar y plant
bychain ar hyd y llawr y sylwai fwyaf. Edrychai yn llawn siomedigaeth
a gofid. Dywedodd yr hanes i gyd, iddo fod allan yn hela ddoe, a'i fod
yn awr yn dychwelyd. Dywedodd y wraig iddi glywed chwedl am dad ei gwr
flynyddau cyn ei geni, ei fod wedi myned ar goll wrth hela; ond fod
ei thad yn dywedyd wrthi nad gwir hyny, mai ei ladd a gafodd. Aeth y
wraig yn anystywallt, ac yn llwyr o'i chof eisiau fod yr hen 'Iddew' yn
myned allan. Cyffrodd yr hen wr, a dywedai mai efe ydoedd perchen y ty,
ac y byddai raid iddo gael ei hawl. Aeth allan i weled ei feddianau,
ac yn fuan i dy y deiliad. Er ei syndod, yr oedd pethau wedi newid
yn fawr yno. Ar ol ymddiddan am dro a hen wr oedranus wrth y tan,
edrychai y naill fwy fwy ar y llall. Dywedai yr hen wr beth fu tynged
ei ben gyfaill, mab Llech y Derwydd. Siaradent yn bwyllog am bethau
mebyd, ond yr oedd y cyfan fel breuddwyd. Beth bynag, penderfynodd
yr hen wr yn y cornel mai ei hen gyfaill, mab Llech y Derwydd,
oedd yr ymwelydd, wedi dychwelyd o wlad y Tylwyth Teg, ar ol bod
yno haner can' mlynedd. Credodd yr hen wr a'r farf wen ei dynged,
a mawr y siarad a'r holi fu gan y naill y llall am oriau lawer.
"Dywedai fod gwr Llech y Derwydd y diwrnod hwnw oddi cartref. Cafwyd
gan yr hen ymwelydd fwyta bwyd; ond er mawr fraw, syrthiodd y bwytawr
yn farw yn y fan. Nid oes hanes fod trengholiad wedi bod ar y corff;
ond dywedai y chwedl mae yr achos oedd, iddo fwyta bwyd ar ol bod yn
myd y Tylwyth Teg cyhyd. Mynodd ei hen gyfaill weled ei gladdu yn ochr
ei deidiau. Bu melldith fyth, hyd y silcyn ach, yn Llech y Derwydd,
o blegid sarugrwydd y wraig i'w thad-yng-nghyfraith, nes gwerthu y
lle naw gwaith."
The above tale translated into English reads as follows:--
"The son of Llech y Derwydd was the only child of his parents, and
also the heir to the farm. He was, therefore, very dear to his father
and mother, yea, he was as the very light of their eyes. The son and
the head servant man were more than bosom friends, they were like two
brothers, or rather twins. As the son and the servant were such close
friends, the farmer's wife was in the habit of clothing them exactly
alike. The two friends fell in love with two young handsome women who
were highly respected in the neighbourhood. This event gave the old
people great satisfaction, and ere long the two couples were joined
in holy wedlock, and great was the merry-making on the occasion. The
servant man obtained a convenient place to live in on the grounds of
Llech y Derwydd.
"About six months after the marriage of the son, he and the servant
man went out to hunt. The servant penetrated to a ravine filled with
brushwood to look for game, and presently returned to his friend, but
by the time he came back the son was nowhere to be seen. He continued
awhile looking about for his absent friend, shouting and whistling
to attract his attention, but there was no answer to his calls. By
and by he went home to Llech y Derwydd, expecting to find him there,
but no one knew anything about him. Great was the grief of the family
throughout the night, but it was even greater next day. They went to
inspect the place where the son had last been seen. His mother and his
wife wept bitterly, but the father had greater control over himself,
still he appeared as half mad. They inspected the place where the
servant man had last seen his friend, and, to their great surprise
and sorrow, observed a Fairy ring close by the spot, and the servant
recollected that he had heard seductive music somewhere about the
time that he parted with his friend.
"They came to the conclusion at once that the man had been so
unfortunate as to enter the Fairy ring, and they conjectured that he
had been transported no one knew where. Weary weeks and months passed
away, and a son was born to the absent man.
"The little one grew up the very image of his father, and very
precious was he to his grandfather and grandmother. In fact, he was
everything to them. He grew up to man's estate and married a pretty
girl in the neighbourhood, but her people had not the reputation of
being kind-hearted. The old folks died, and also their daughter-in-law.
"One windy afternoon in the month of October, the family of Llech y
Derwydd saw a tall thin old man with beard and hair as white as snow,
who they thought was a Jew approaching slowly, very slowly, towards
the house. The servant girls stared mockingly through the window
at him, and their mistress laughed unfeelingly at the 'old Jew,'
and lifted the children up, one after the other, to get a sight of
him as he neared the house.
"He came to the door, and entered the house boldly enough, and
inquired after his parents. The mistress answered him in a surly and
unusually contemptuous manner and wished to know 'What the drunken
old Jew wanted there,' for they thought he must have been drinking
or he would never have spoken in the way he did. The old man looked
at everything in the house with surprise and bewilderment, but the
little children about the floor took his attention more than anything
else. His looks betrayed sorrow and deep disappointment. He related
his whole history, that yesterday he had gone out to hunt, and that
now he had returned. The mistress told him that she had heard a story
about her husband's father, which occurred before she was born, that
he had been lost whilst hunting, but that her father had told her that
the story was not true, but that he had been killed. The woman became
uneasy and angry that the old 'Jew' did not depart. The old man was
roused, and said that the house was his, and that he would have his
rights. He went to inspect his possessions, and shortly afterwards
directed his steps to the servant's house. To his surprise he saw that
things were greatly changed. After conversing awhile with an aged man
who sat by the fire, they carefully looked each other in the face,
and the old man by the fire related the sad history of his lost friend,
the son of Llech y Derwydd.
"They conversed together deliberately on the events of their youth,
but all seemed like a dream. However, the old man in the corner came to
the conclusion that his visitor was his old friend, the son of Llech y
Derwydd, returned from the land of the Fairies, after spending there
fifty years.
"The old man with the white beard believed the story related by his
friend, and long was the talk and many were the questions which the one
gave to the other. The visitor was informed that the master of Llech y
Derwydd was from home that day, and he was persuaded to eat some food;
but to the horror of all, when he had done so, he instantly fell down
dead. We are not informed that an inquest was held over the body; but
the tale relates that the cause of the man's sudden death was that he
ate food after having been so long in the land of the Fairies. His old
friend insisted on the dead man being buried with his ancestors. The
rudeness of the mistress of Llech y Derwydd to her father-in-law
brought a curse upon the place and family, 'hyd y silcyn ach,' and
her offence was not expiated until the farm had been sold nine times."
TAFFY AP SION OF PENCADER AMONG THE FAIRIES.
The following Fairy Legend appeared in "British Goblins," page 75:--
Taffy ap Sion, the shoemaker's son, living near Pencader,
Carmarthenshire, was a lad who many years ago entered the Fairy circle
on the mountain hard by there, and having danced a few minutes as
he supposed, chanced to step out. He was then astonished to find
that the scene which had been so familiar was now quite strange to
him. Here were roads and houses he had never seen, and in place of his
father's humble cottage there now stood a fine stone farmhouse. About
him were lovely cultivated fields instead of the barren mountain he
was accustomed to.
'Ah,' thought he, 'this is some Fairy trick to deceive my eyes. It
is not ten minutes since I stepped into that circle, and now when
I step out they have built my father a new house! Well, I only hope
it is real; anyhow, I'll go and see.' So he started off by a path he
knew instinctively, and suddenly struck against a very solid hedge. He
rubbed his eyes, felt the hedge with his fingers, scratched his head,
felt the hedge again, ran a thorn into his fingers and cried out,
'Wbwb' this is no Fairy hedge anyhow, nor, from the age of the thorns,
was it grown in a few minutes' time! So he climbed over it and walked
on. 'Here was I born,' said he, as he entered the farmyard, staring
wildly about him, 'and not a thing here do I know!' His mystification
was complete, when there came bounding towards him a huge dog, barking
furiously. 'What dog is this? Get out you ugly brute! Don't you
know I'm master here?--at least, when mother's from home, for father
don't count.' But the dog only barked the harder. 'Surely,' muttered
Taffy to himself, 'I have lost my road and am wandering through some
unknown neighbourhood; but no, yonder is the Careg Hir!' and he stood
staring at the well-known erect stone thus called, which still stands
on the mountain south of Pencader, and is supposed to have been placed
there in ancient times to commemorate a victory. As Taffy stood thus,
looking at the long stone, he heard footsteps behind him, and turning,
beheld the occupant of the farmhouse, who had come out to see why
his dog was barking.
Poor Taffy was so ragged and wan that the farmer's Welsh heart was at
once stirred to sympathy. 'Who are you, poor man?' he asked, to which
Taffy answered, 'I know who I was, but I do not know who I am now. I
was the son of a shoemaker who lived in this place, this morning;
for that rock, though it is changed a little, I know too well.' 'Poor
fellow,' said the farmer, 'You have lost your senses. This house was
built by my great-grandfather, repaired by my grandfather; and that
part there, which seems newly built, was done about three years ago
at my expense. You must be deranged, or you have missed the road; but
come in and refresh yourself with some victuals, and rest.' Taffy was
half persuaded that he had overslept himself and lost his road, but
looking back he saw the rock before mentioned, and exclaimed, 'It is
but an hour since I was on yonder rock robbing a hawk's nest.' 'Where
have you been since?' Taffy related his adventure. 'Ah,' quoth the
farmer, 'I see how it is--you have been with the Fairies. Pray who
was your father?' 'Sion Evan y Crydd o Glanrhyd,' was the answer. 'I
never heard of such a man,' said the farmer, shaking his head, 'nor
of such a place as Glanrhyd, either; but no matter, after you have
taken a little food we will step down to Catti Shon, at Pencader,
who will probably be able to tell something.' With this he beckoned
Taffy to follow him, and walked on; but hearing behind him the sound
of footsteps growing weaker and weaker, he turned round, when to his
horror he beheld the poor fellow crumble in an instant to about a
thimbleful of black ashes. The farmer, though much terrified at this
sight, preserved his calmness sufficiently to go at once and see old
Catti, the aged crone he had referred to, who lived at Pencader,
near by. He found her crouching over a fire of faggots, trying to
warm her old bones. 'And how do you do the day, Catti Shon?' asked
the farmer. 'Ah,' said old Catti, 'I'm wonderful well, farmer,
considering how old I am.' 'Yes, yes, you are very old. Now, since
you are so old, let me ask you--do you remember anything about Sion
y Crydd o Glanrhyd? Was there ever such a man, do you know?' 'Sion
Glanrhyd? O! I have a faint recollection of hearing my grandfather,
old Evan Shenkin, Penferdir, relate that Sion's son was lost one
morning, and they never heard of him afterwards, so that it was said
he was taken by the Fairies. His father's cottage stood somewhere near
your house.' 'Were there many Fairies about at that time?' asked the
farmer. 'O, yes; they were often seen on yonder hill, and I was told
they were lately seen in Pant Shon Shenkin, eating flummery out of
egg-shells, which they had stolen from a farm hard by.' 'Dir anwyl
fi!' cried the farmer; 'dear me! I recollect now--I saw them myself.'
SHON AP SHENKIN SEDUCED BY FAIRY MUSIC.