Ch, which is accounted but as one consonant, is a guttural, as _Chi_ in
Greek, or _ch_, _Cheth_, in Hebrew.
Dd is an aspirated _d_, and has the sound of _th_ in the words _this_,
_that_. _Dda_, good, is pronounced _Tha_.
F has the sound of an English _v_.
I is sounded as in the Italian, or like our _ee_ in _been_: thus _cîl_, a
retreat, is pronounced _keel_.
Ll is an aspirated _l_, and has much the sound of _thl_. _Llangollen_ is
pronounced _Thlangothlen_.
R, as in the Greek language, is always aspirated at the beginning of a
word.
U sounds like the _i_ in _limb_, _him_, &c.
W is a vowel, and has the power of _oo_ in _soon_.
Y is in some words pronounced like _i_ in _third_; in others like o in
_honey_; and again, in others as the _u_ in _mud_, _must_, &c.
V is sometimes used instead of _f_. B and P, C and G, and U and Y, are
used promiscuously, as were formerly V and M.
* * * * *
The following is a list of primitive words, which as they very commonly
occur in the names of places, &c. the tourist may find them of use.
_Aber_, a confluence; the fall of one river into another or into the sea,
as _Aberdovey_, the conflux of the Dovey.
_Avon_, what flows; and from thence a stream or river.
_Allt_, a cliff; the steep of a hill.
_Ar_, upon; bordering or abutting upon.
_Bach_, and _Bychan_, little: these are of the masculine gender, and
_Vychan_ and _Vechan_ are feminine.
_Bôd_, a dwelling, residence, or station.
_Bryn_, a hill.
_Bwlch_, a gap or pass between rocks.
_Cader_, a keep, fortress, or strong hold.
_Caer_, a fort, or fortified place, generally constructed with stones and
mortar.
_Castell_, a castle.
_Coed_, a wood.
_Carnedd_, a heap of stones.
_Cefen_, a ridge; a high ground.
_Clawdd_, a dike, ditch, or trench; and sometimes a wall or fence.
_Clogwyn_, a precipice.
_Craig_, a rock:—from this the English word _Crag_ is derived.
_Cwm_, a great hollow or glen; sometimes a valley.
_Dinas_, a fort, or fortified place, constructed in general with a
rampart of loose stones and earth without any cement.
_Dôl_, a meadow or dale in the bend of a river.
_Drws_, a door, pass, or opening.
_Dû_, black.
_Dyffryn_, a wide cultivated valley.
_Ffynnon_, a spring, well, or source.
_Garth_, a mountain that bends round, or that incloses.
_Glan_, a bank or shore.
_Glyn_, a deep vale, through which a river runs:—from hence was derived
our word _Glen_.
_Gwern_, a watery meadow.
_Gwydd_, a wood; woody or wild.
_Gwyn_, white.
_Goch_, or _Coch_, red.
_Llan_, a smooth plot; a place of meeting; the church, place or village;
and figuratively the church.
_Llech_, a flat stone or crag; a smooth cliff.
_Llwyn_, a grove or copse.
_Llyn_, a pool, pond, or mere.
_Maen_, a stone.
_Maes_, an open field.
_Mawr_, great:—_Vach_, little.
_Moel_, fair; bald; a smooth mountain.
_Morfa_, a marsh.
_Mynydd_, a mountain.
_Pant_, a narrow hollow, or ravine.
_Pen_, a head, top, or end.
_Plâs_, a hall, or mansion.
_Pont_, a bridge.
_Porth_, a port.
_Rhiw_, an ascent.
_Rhôs_, a moist plain, or meadow.
_Rhyd_, a ford.
_Sarn_, a causeway.
_Tal_, the front, head, or end.
_Traeth_, a sand on the sea-shore.
_Tref_, a township.
_Ty_, a house.
_Ynys_, an island.
The Welsh language is possessed of numerous beauties. Its copiousness is
very great; and it has no rival in the variety of its synonymous forms of
expression, principally arising from the rich combinations of its verbs;
for every simple verb has about twenty modifications, by means of
qualifying prefixes; and in every form it may be conjugated, either by
inflexions, like the Latin, or by the auxiliaries, as in English. It
rivals the Greek, in its aptitude to form the most beautiful derivatives,
as well as in the elegance, facility, and expressiveness of an infinite
variety of compounds. The author of letters from Snowdon has justly
remarked, that it has the softness and harmony of the Italian, with the
majesty and expression of the Greek. Of these I will give two singular
and striking instances, one of which is an _Englyn_, or epigram on the
silk-worm; composed entirely of vowels.
O’i wiw y ŵi weu ê â, a’i weuau
O’i ŵyau y weua;
E’ weua ei ŵe aia’,
A’i weuau yw ieuau iâ.
“I perish by my art; dig mine own grave:
I spin my thread of life; my death I weave.”
The other a distich on thunder, the grandeur of which is scarcely to be
surpassed in any language.
Tân a dŵr yn ymwriaw,
Yw’r taranau dreigiau draw.
“The roaring thunder, dreadful in its ire,
Its water warring with aërial fire.”
The metre of the Welsh poetry is very artificial and alliterative,
possessing such peculiar ingenuity in the selection and arrangement of
words, as to produce a rhythmical concatenation of sounds in every verse.
The old British language abounded with consonants, and was formed of
monosyllables, which are incompatible with quantity; and the bards could
reduce it to concord by no other means than by placing at such intervals
its harsher consonants, so intermixing them with vowels, and so adapting,
repeating, and dividing the several sounds, as to produce an agreeable
effect from their structure. Hence the laws of poetical composition in
this language are so strict and rigorous, that were it not for a
particular aptitude that it has for that kind of alliterative melody,
which is as essential as harmony in music, and which constitutes the
great beauty of its poetry, the genius of the bard must have been greatly
cramped. To the ears of the natives, the Welsh metre is extremely
pleasing, and does not subject the bard to more restraint than the
different sorts of feet occasioned to the Greek and Roman poets. From
the reign of Llywelyn to that of Elizabeth, the laws of alliteration were
prescribed, and observed with such scrupulous exactness, that a line not
perfectly alliterative was condemned as much by the Welsh grammarians, as
a false quantity was by the Greeks and Romans.
[Picture: Map of South Wales, 1828]