Chapter V: The Fairies (tylwyth Teg) (3)

In August, 1862, David Evans and Evan Lewis, went from the Coast of Cardiganshire with their waggons all the way to Brecon for some timber for ship-building, which was going on at New Quay. On their return journey, through Carmarthenshire, they stopped for a short time at a place called Cwmdwr on the road leading from Llanwrda to Lampeter. It was about 2 o'clock in the afternoon, and the two men and their horses and waggons were standing opposite a farm known as Maestwynog, where the reapers were busy at work in a wheat-field close by. As they were looking in the direction of a hillside not far off, David Evans saw about fifty small wheat stacks (sopynau bychain), as he at first thought. On second sight, however, he noticed that they were moving about, he took them for reapers. They were all dressed exactly alike, and walked fast one after another up the hillside footpath. David Evans now called the attention of his companion Evan Lewis, whom he asked who the men could have been; but before he had time to make any further remarks, the first of those who were climbing up along the winding footpath had reached a small level spot on the top of the hill. The others quickly followed him, and each one in coming to the top, gave a jump to dance, and they formed a circle. After dancing for a short time, one of the dancers turned in into the middle of the circle, followed by the others, one by one till they appeared like a gimblet screw. Then they disappeared into the ground. After awhile one of them reappeared again, and looked about him in every direction as a rat, and the others followed him one by one and did the same. Then they danced for some time as before, and vanished into the ground as they had done the first time. The two men, David Evans and Evan Lewis were watching them from a distance of about 400 yards and were more than astonished to see men, as they thought, acting in such a strange and curious manner on the hill. They continued looking for some time but the dancers did not appear again. At last the two men proceeded on their journey till they came to an old man working on the road whom they asked whether he knew anything about the men they had seen dancing in a circle on the hill behind Maestwynog. The old man replied that he had not the least idea, but had heard his grandfather say that the Tylwyth Teg (Fairies) used to dance in his time, at which explanation our two friends smiled.

In the above account we see that the hill near Maestwynog was a special haunt of the Fairies, even in modern days. There are certain spots here and there all over Wales, pointed out by old people to this day, as having been frequented in former times by the Fairies to dance and to sing. An old man named James Jones, Golden Lion, Llanarth, informed me that when a boy he heard from the lips of old men, many a tale of Fairies seen on Bank-rhydeiniol; and that they were mounted on horses, riding and playing; and the late Rev. J. Davies, Moria, mentions that there were traditions of them appearing on Bannau Duon in the same parish. In the northern part of Cardiganshire, the people of Talybont showed me a spot a few miles to the east of that village, where these supernatural beings appeared long ago, more especially to dance. The neighbourhood of Aberporth, in the southern part of the same county, was also a favourite spot according to an old woman in the village. Pant Shon Shenkin in the neighbourhood of Pencader was a famous place for Carmarthenshire Fairies, of which district we have already given the reader more than one story.

Gwynionydd in the Brython for 1860, remarks that in former times the Fairies were fond of the mountains of Dyfed, and that travellers in Cardiganshire, between Lampeter and the town of Cardigan often saw them on Llanwenog hill; but after arriving on that spot they would be seen far away on the mountains of Llandyssul, and expecting to find them there, they would be seen somewhere else, both deluding and eluding the traveller.

THE FAIRIES OF CWM MABWS, SEEN DRIVING IN THEIR CARRIAGES.

In the interesting small valley of Cwm Mabws, near Llanrhystyd, nine miles from Aberystwyth, there is a rocky spot known as Craig Rhydderch. Even within the memory of some who are still alive, the caves of Craig Rhydderch were the favourite haunts of the Fairies, where these mysterious beings were thought to dwell, or at least pass through to the underground regions. The Fairies of this part were, it was supposed, some kind of spirits or supernatural beings, and were often seen in the Valley of Mabws going about in their phantom carriages and horses. About fifty years ago when Fairies were still to be seen in this neighbourhood, the eldest son of Penlan farm, and some of the men servants one evening just before dark, took their horses down to the little river which runs through the bottom of the valley in order to give the animals water, as there was no water near the farm-house which stood on high ground. As they were on their way to the river they heard some noise on the road quite near them, and the farmer's son said to the servants, "It is the noise of the Fairies on their journey, and they are coming from the direction of Craig Rhydderch; let us stand one side of the road to make room for them to pass." And sure enough, just as he spoke, a number of Fairies appeared on the scene and passed by as if they were on a journey. They were little men with little horses and carriages, but my informant could not tell me the colour of their dresses nor the colour of their horses

After taking their horses to the water and turning them into a field, the men went home to Penlan; and as soon as they entered the house and related what they had seen, another son of the farm had just arrived home from Aberystwyth with a horse and cart, and he also had seen the Fairies, just as he was turning to the road which led up the hill.

The above story was related to me by Mr. David Morgan, Carpenter, Llanrhystyd, who vouches for the truth of the account as he was well acquainted with the persons who saw the Fairies, and one of them was a friend of his.

FAIRIES AND FOOTBALLERS.

There is a curious tradition that early one Easter Monday, when the parishioners of Pencarreg and Caio were met to play at football, they saw a numerous company of Fairies dancing. Being so many in number, the young men were not intimidated at all, but proceeded in a body towards the puny tribe, who perceiving them, removed to another place. The young men followed, whereupon the little folk suddenly disappeared dancing at the first place. Seeing this, the men divided and surrounded them, when they immediately became invisible, and were never more seen there. This was in Carmarthenshire.

Other places frequented by Fairies were Moyddin, between Lampeter and Llanarth, in Troed yr Aur, in Cardiganshire.

FAIRIES MARKETING.

It was formerly believed in some parts of West Wales, especially by the people dwelling near the sea coast, that the Fairies visited markets and fairs, and that their presence made business very brisk. I have already referred to the "Gwerddonau Llion," or the enchanted "Isles of the Sea," inhabited by Fairy Tribes. These Fairies, it was believed, went to and fro between the islands and shore, through a subterranean gallery under the bottom of the sea, and regularly attended the markets at Milford Haven, in Pembrokeshire and Laugharne in Carmarthenshire. ("British Goblins," page 10.) They made their purchases without speaking, laid down their money and departed, always leaving the exact sum required, which they seemed to know, without asking the price of anything. Sometimes they were invisible, but they were often seen by sharp-eyed persons. There was one special butcher at Milford Haven upon whom the Fairies bestowed their patronage, instead of distributing their favours indiscriminately.

According to Gwynionydd in the "Brython," for 1858, page 110, these Fairies also came to market to Cardigan, and it was thought they raised the prices of things terribly whenever they came there. In that part of the country they were known as "Plant Rhys Ddwfn." No one saw them coming there or going away, only seen there in the market. When prices in the market happened to be high, and the corn all sold, however, much there might have been there in the morning, the poor used to say to one another on the way home, "Oh! They were there to-day," meaning "Plant Rhys Ddwfn," or the Fairies. These Fairies were liked by the farmers who had corn to sell, but disliked by the poor labourers who had to buy corn and give higher price for it. Gwynionydd also says that: "A certain Gruffydd Ap Einon was wont to sell them more corn than anybody else, and that he was a great friend of theirs. He was honoured by them beyond all his contemporaries by being led on a visit to their home. As they were great traders, like the Phoenicians of old, they had treasures from all countries under the sun. Gruffydd, after feasting his eyes to satiety on their wonders was led back by them loaded with presents. But before taking leave of them, he asked them how they succeeded in keeping themselves safe from invaders, as one of their number might become unfaithful, and go beyond the virtue of the herbs that formed their safety. "Oh!" replied the little old man of shrewd looks, "Just as Ireland has been blessed with a soil on which venomous reptiles cannot live, so with our land; no traitor can live here. Look at the sand on the seashore; perfect unity prevails there, and so among us." Rhys, the father of our race, bade us even to the most distant descendant to honour our parents and ancestors; love our own wives without looking at those of our neighbours, and do our best for our children and grandchildren. And he said that if we did so, no one of us would prove unfaithful to another, or become what you call a traitor. The latter is a wholly imaginary character among us; strange pictures are drawn of him with his feet like those of an ass, with a nest of snakes in his bosom, with a head like the Devil's, with hands somewhat like a man's while one of them holds a large knife and the family dead around him Good-bye!" When Gruffydd looked about him he lost sight of the country of Plant Rhys, and found himself near his home. He became very wealthy after this, and continued to be a great friend of Plant Rhys as long as he lived. After Gruffydd's death they came to the market again, but such was the greed of the farmers, like Gruffydd before them, for riches, and so unreasonable were the prices they asked for their corn, that the Rhysians took offence and came no more to Cardigan to market. The old people used to think that they now went to Fishguard market, as very strange people were wont to be seen there."

FAIRY CHANGELINGS.

Mr. B. Davies in the II. Vol. of the "Brython," page 182, gives the following tale of a Fairy Changeling in the neighbourhood of Newcastle Emlyn, in the Vale of Teifi, and on the borders of Carmarthenshire and Cardiganshire:--

"One calm hot day, when the sun of heaven was brilliantly shining, and the hay in the dales was being busily made by lads and lasses, and by grown-up people of both sexes, a woman in the neighbourhood of Emlyn placed her one-year-old infant in the "gader" or chair, as the cradle is called in these parts, and out she went to the field for a while, intending to return when her neighbour, an old woman overtaken by the decrepitude of eighty summers, should call to her that her Darling was crying. It was not long before she heard the old woman calling to her; she ran hurriedly, and as soon as she set foot on the kitchen floor, she took her little one in her arms as usual, saying to him, "O my little one! thy mother's delight art thou! I would not take the world for thee, etc." But to her surprise, he had a very old look about him, and the more the tender-hearted mother gazed at his face, the stranger it seemed to her, so that at last she placed him in the cradle and told her sorrow to her relatives and acquaintances. And after this one and the other had given his opinion, it was agreed at last that it was one of Rhys Ddwfn's children that was in the cradle, and not her dearly loved baby. In this distress there was nothing to do but to fetch a wizard, or wise man, as fast as the fastest horse could gallop. He said, when he saw the child that he had seen his like before, and that it would be a hard job to get rid of him, though not such a very hard job this time. The shovel was made red hot in the fire by one of the Cefnarth (Cenarth) boys, and held before the child's face; and in an instant the short little old man took to his heels, and neither he nor his like was seen afterwards from Abercuch to Aberbargod at any rate. The mother found her darling unscathed the next moment. I remember also hearing that the strange child was as old as the grandfather of the one that had been lost."--"Celtic Folk-Lore" by Sir J. Rhys.

There are many such stories in different parts of Wales and Scotland, and in both countries Fairies were believed to have a fatal admiration for lovely children, and credited with stealing them, especially unbaptized infants.

A Welsh poet thus sings:--

"Llawer plentyn teg aeth ganddynt,
Pan y cym'rynt helynt hir;
Oddiar anwyl dda rieni,
I drigfanau difri dir.

The Rev. Elias Owen's translation of the above is as follows:--

"Many a lovely child they've taken,
When long and bitter was the pain;
From their parents, loving, dear,
To the Fairies' dread domain."

Another popular mode of treatment resorted to in order to reclaim children from the Fairies, and to get rid of ugly changelings was as follows:--The mother was to carry the changeling to a river, and when at the brink, the wizard who accompanied her was to cry out:--

"Crap ar y wrach"--
(A grip on the hag.)

and the mother was to respond:--

"Rhy hwyr gyfraglach"--
(Too late decrepit one);

Then the mother was to throw the changeling into the river, and then returning home, where she would find her own child safe and sound.

It was believed that the Fairies were particularly busy in exchanging children on St. John's Eve.

HOW TO DETECT CHANGELINGS.

One way of finding out whether children were Changelings or not was to listen to them speaking. If suspected children were heard speaking things above the understanding of children, it was considered a proof that they were changelings. This was a wide-spread belief in Wales.

Fairies did not always come to steal children, however, for they were believed in some places to enter the houses at night to dance and sing until the morning, and leave on the hearth-stone a piece of money as a reward behind them, should they find the house clean; but should it be dirty, they came to punish the servant girl. The good Fairies known as "Bendith y Mamau," were supposed to rock the infant's cradle and sweep and clean the house whilst the tired mother slept. And one way of securing their good luck was to leave a little milk for them upon the kitchen table at night.

FAIRY MONEY.

An old man named Evan Morris, Goginan, informed me that a farmer in the Vale of Rheidol one day found a sixpence on the top of a gate-post. On the next day he found a shilling there, and on the day after two shillings, the sum was doubled every day till the man was beginning to get rich. At last, however, the farmer told his family or his friends about his good luck, and after this he got no more money, as the Fairies were offended that he did not keep the thing secret.

FAIRY MOTHERS AND HUMAN MIDWIVES.

The following story is to be found in Welsh in an interesting little book entitled "Ystraeon y Gwyll," by the late Mr. D. Lledrod Davies; and in English by Sir John Rhys in his great work "Celtic Folk-Lore":--The locality of the tale is Swyddffynon, near Ystrad Meurig, in Cardiganshire.

"It used to be related by an old woman who died some thirty years ago at the advanced age of about 100. She was Pali, mother of old Rachel Evans, who died seven or eight years ago, when she was about eighty. The latter was a curious character, who sometimes sang "Maswedd," or rhymes of doubtful propriety, and used to take the children of the village to see fairy rings. She also used to see the "Tylwyth" (Fairies), and had many tales to tell of them. But her mother, Pali, had actually been called to attend at the confinement of one of them. The beginning of the tale is not very explicit; but, anyhow, Pali one evening found herself face to face with the Fairy lady she was to attend upon. She appeared to be the wife of one of the princes of the country. She was held in great esteem, and lived in a very grand palace. Everything there had been arranged in the most beautiful and charming fashion. The wife was in her bed with nothing about her but white, and she fared sumptuously. In due time, when the baby had been born, the midwife had all the care connected with dressing it and serving its mother. Pali could see or hear nobody in the whole place, but the mother and the baby. She had no idea who attended on them, or who prepared all the things they required, for it was all done noiselessly and secretly. The mother was a charming person, of an excellent temper and easy to manage. Morning and evening, as she finished washing the baby, Pali had a certain ointment given her to rub the baby with. She was charged not to touch it, but with her hand, and especially not to put any near her eyes. This was carried out for some time, but one day, as she was dressing the baby, her eyes happened to itch, and she rubbed them with her hand. Then at once she saw a great many wonders she had not before perceived; and the whole place assumed a new aspect to her. She said nothing, and in the course of the day she saw a great deal more. Among other things, she observed small men and small women going in and out following a variety of occupations. But their movements were as light as the morning breezes. To move about was no trouble to them, and they brought things into the room with the greatest quickness. They prepared dainty food for the confined lady with the utmost order and skill, and the air of kindness and affection with which they served her was truly remarkable. In the evening, as she was dressing the baby, the midwife said to the lady, "You have had a great many visitors to-day." To this she replied, "How do you know that? Have you been putting this ointment to your eyes?" Thereupon she jumped out of bed, and blew into her eyes, saying, "Now you will see no more." She never afterwards could see the fairies, however much she tried, nor was the ointment entrusted to her after that day."

There is a version of this story located in the neighbourhood of Llanuwchllyn, Merionethshire, and indeed in several other parts of Wales.

FAIRIES PLAYING TRICKS WITH THE OVEN.

Miss Evelyn Lewes, Tyglyn Aeron, in the "Carmarthenshire Antiquities" says, "Should the dough not rise properly, but present a stringy appearance, the Cardiganshire housewife announces that "Mae bara yn robin," and forthwith orders the sacrifice of an old slipper, presumably to propitiate the fairy folk who are inclined to play tricks with the oven.... A native of Montgomeryshire tells me that in her youth no loaf at her home was ever placed in the oven unless a cross had been previously signed upon it."

FAIRY GLOVES.

Mrs. A. Crawley-Boevey, of Birchgrove, Crosswood, a lady who is greatly interested in Folk-Lore, informed me that it is believed in Gloucestershire that the Fairies live in Fox Gloves. I have not so far discovered this belief in Wales, but Fox Glove is called in some part of the Principality Menyg y Tylwyth Teg (Fairy Gloves). Also Menyg Ellyllon (Elves Gloves).

FAIRY KNOCKERS.

Knockers were supposed to be a species of Fairies which haunted the mines, and underground regions, and whose province it was to indicate by knocks and other sounds, the presence of rich veins of ore. That miners in former times did really believe in the existence of such beings is quite evident from the following two letters written by Lewis Morris (great grandfather of Sir Lewis Morris the poet) in October 14th, 1754, and December 4th, 1754. They appeared in Bingley's North Wales, Vol. II., pages 269-272:

"People who know very little of arts or sciences, or the powers of nature (which, in other words are the powers of the author of nature), will laugh at us Cardiganshire miners, who maintain the existence of "Knockers" in mines, a kind of good-natured impalpable people not to be seen, but heard, and who seem to us to work in the mines; that is to say, they are the types or forerunners of working in mines, as dreams are of some accidents, which happen to us. The barometer falls before rain, or storms. If we do not know the construction of it, we should call it a kind of dream that foretells rain; but we know it is natural, and produced by natural means, comprehended by us. Now, how are we sure, or anybody sure, but that our dreams are produced by the same natural means? There is some faint resemblance of this in the sense of hearing; the bird is killed before we hear the report of the gun. However, this is, I must speak well of the "Knockers," for they have actually stood my good-friends, whether they are aerial beings called spirits, or whether they are a people made of matter, not to be felt by our gross bodies, as air and fire and the like. "Before the discovery of the "Esgair y Mwyn" mine, these little people, as we call them here, worked hard there day and night; and there are honest, sober people, who have heard them, and some persons who have no notion of them or of mines either; but after the discovery of the great ore they were heard no more. When I began to work at Llwyn Llwyd, they worked so fresh there for a considerable time that they frightened some young workmen out of the work. This was when we were driving levels, and before we had got any ore; but when we came to the ore, they then gave over, and I heard no more talk of them. Our old miners are no more concerned at hearing them "blasting," boring holes, landing "deads," etc., than if they were some of their own people; and a single miner will stay in the work, in the dead of night, without any man near him, and never think of any fear of any harm they will do him. The miners have a notion that the "knockers" are of their own tribe and profession, and are a harmless people who mean well. Three or four miners together shall hear them sometimes, but if the miners stop to take notice of them, the "knockers" will also stop; but, let the miners go on at their work, suppose it is "boring," the "knockers" will at the same time go on as brisk as can be in landing, "blasting." or beating down the "loose," and they are always heard a little distance from them before they come to the ore.

"These are odd assertions, but they are certainly facts, though we cannot, and do not pretend to account for them. We have now very good ore at "Llwyn Llwyd," where the "knockers" were heard to work, but we have now yielded the place, and are no more heard. Let who will laugh, we have the greatest reason to rejoice, and thank the "knockers," or rather God, who sends us these notices."

The second letter is as follows:--

"I have no time to answer your objection against 'knockers'; I have a large treatise collected on that head, and what Mr. Derham says is nothing to the purpose. If sounds of voices, whispers, blasts, working, or pumping, can be carried on a mile underground, they should always be heard in the same place, and under the same advantages, and not once in a month, a year, or two years. Just before the discovery of ore last week, three men together in our work at "Llwyn Llwyd" were ear-witnesses of "knockers," pumping, driving a wheelbarrow, etc.; but there is no pump in the work, nor any mine within less than a mile of it, in which there are pumps constantly going. If they were these pumps that they heard, why were they never heard but that once in the space of a year? And why are they not now heard? But the pumps make so little noise that they cannot be heard in the other end of "Esgair y Mwyn" mine when they are at work. We have a dumb and deaf tailor in the neighbourhood who has a particular language of his own by signs, and by practice I can understand him and make him understand me pretty well, and I am sure I could make him learn to write, and be understood by letters very soon, for he can distinguish men already by the letters of their names. Now letters are marks to convey ideas, just after the same manner as the motion of fingers, hands, eyes, etc. If this man had really seen ore in the bottom of a sink of water in a mine and wanted to tell me how to come at it, he would take two sticks like a pump, and would make the motions of a pumper at the very sink where he knew the ore was, and would make the motions of driving a wheelbarrow. And what I should infer from thence would be that I ought to take out the water and sink or drive in the place, and wheel the stuff out. By parity of reasoning, the language of "knockers," by imitating the sound of pumping, wheeling, etc., signifies that we should take out the water and drive there. This is the opinion of all old miners, who pretend to understand the language of the "knockers." Our agent and manager, upon the strength of this notice, goes on and expect great things. You, and everybody that is not convinced of the being of "knockers," will laugh at these things, for they sound like dreams; so does every dark science. Can you make any illiterate man believe that it is possible to know the distance of two places by looking at them? Human knowledge is but of small extent, its bounds are within our view, we see nothing beyond these; the great universal creation contains powers, etc., that we cannot so much as guess at. May there not exist beings, and vast powers infinitely smaller than the particles of air, to whom air is as hard a body as the diamond is to us? Why not? There is neither great nor small, but by comparison. Our "knockers" are some of these powers, the guardians of mines.

"You remember the story in Selden's Table-Talk of Sir Robert Cotton and others disputing about Moses's shoe. Lady Cotton came in and asked, 'Gentlemen, are you sure it is a shoe?' So the first thing is to convince mankind that there is a set of creatures, a degree or so finer than we are, to whom we have given the name of "knockers" from the sounds we hear in our mines. This is to be done by a collection of their actions well attested, and that is what I have begun to do, and then let everyone judge for himself."

We do not hear of "Knockers" in Cardiganshire now; in Cornwall, however, it is said that they still haunt the mines, and sometimes, with a sound of knocking and singing, they guide a lucky miner to find good ore. The "Knockers" were, it was once thought, "the Souls of the Jews who crucified our Saviour." At least it seems that that was the belief in Cornwall. Perhaps it would be of interest to add that there were Cornishmen among the miners of Cardiganshire when Mr. Lewis Morris wrote the two letters I have just given.

A STORY OF PONT EINION (EINION BRIDGE) TREGARON.

Mr. John Jones, Pontrhydfendigaid, who is now about 95 years of age, related to me the following tale seven years ago:--

Long ago, when much of the land where now stand the farms of Ystrad-Caron, Penylan, and Penybont, was a Common, a gentleman named Einion, and his wife, came from Abergwaun (Fishguard) and settled in the neighbourhood of Tregaron. Einion inclosed much of the land on the banks of the river Teivy in that part, and built a fine mansion which he called Ystrad-Caron, and soon became a most influential man in the neighbourhood, especially as he was well-to-do, and had generously constructed at his own expense, a bridge over the river for the convenience of the poor people of Tregaron and the surrounding districts. He also loved above everything his wife, and his harp, and was considered one of the best players on that instrument in Wales; but, unfortunately, as time went on, he failed to derive any pleasure from his surroundings and soon became subject to "melancholia," imagining that the place was haunted by some evil genius.

At last, he was persuaded by his medical adviser to seek a change of scenery by going to stay for a while in Pembrokeshire, his native place. Soon after his arrival at Fishguard, he took a short sea voyage from that port, but after some adventures, he and others of his fellow passengers were taken prisoners by a French Man of War.

After spending many years of his lifetime inside the strong walls of a French prison, he at last succeeded to escape, and soon found his way once more to the neighbourhood of Tregaron in Cardiganshire; but to his great astonishment, as he neared his own house, Ystrad-Caron, after so many years' absence, he heard some music and dancing.

Clothed in rags he knocked at the back door, and pretended to be a tramp. One of the maid servants took compassion on the "poor old tramp," and allowed him to come in and warm himself near the kitchen fire.

"We are very busy here to-day," said she to him, "our mistress who has been a widow for many years is about to get married again, and the bride and bridegroom and a party of invited guests are now in the parlour, but, unfortunately, not one of those present is able to tune the harp, a fine old instrument which belonged to the lady's first husband who went away from home and got drowned at sea many years ago." "Please ask them to allow me to tune the harp," said Einion to the maid. The girl then went to inform her mistress that there was an old man in the kitchen who could tune the harp for them.

Einion now entered the parlour, and to the astonishment of the bride and bridegroom and the guests, soon tuned the harp; and as soon as he began to play an old favourite tune of his:

"Myfi bia'm ty, a'm telyn, a'm tân,"
(My house, and my harp, and my fire are mine).

The lady of the house recognised him at once as her husband.

Then turning to the young bridegroom to whom she was engaged to be married, addressed him thus:--"You may go now, as my husband has come home to me once more."

A short time after my visit to Mr. J. Jones, Pontrhydfendigaid, I went to Tregaron, where I found out from Mr. Jenkin Lloyd (formerly of Pant), and others, that the story of Pont Einion (Einion Bridge) was well-known in the neighbourhood, but that Einion during the many years he was away from home, was not in prison but among the Fairies.

It seems probable that the above story is a modern local version of a tale which is to be found in the Iolo MSS. entitled:--"Einion Ap Gwalchmai and the Lady of the Greenwood," which I introduce here for comparison:--

Einion, the son of Gwalchmai, the son of Meilir, of Treveilir in Anglesey, married Angharad, the daughter of Ednyved Vychan.

As he was one fine summer morning walking in the woods of Treveilir, he beheld a graceful slender lady of elegant growth, and delicate features; and her complexion surpassing every white and red in the morning dawn, and the mountain snow, and every beautiful colour in the blossoms of wood, field and hill. He felt in his heart an inconceivable commotion of affection, and he approached her in a courteous manner, and she also approached him in the same manner; and he saluted her, and she returned his salutation; and by these mutual salutations he perceived that his society was not disagreeable to her. He then chanced to cast his eye upon her foot, and he saw that she had hoofs instead of feet, and he became exceedingly dissatisfied. But she told him that his dissatisfaction was all in vain. "Thou must" said she, "follow me wheresoever I go, as long as I continue in my beauty, for this is the consequence of our mutual affection."

Then he requested of her permission to go to his house to take leave of, and to say farewell to his wife, Angharad, and his son Einion. "I" said she, "shall be with thee, invisible to all but to thyself; go visit thy wife and thy son."

So he went, and the Goblin; and when he saw Angharad his wife, he saw her a hag-like one grown old, but he retained the recollection of days past, and still felt extreme affection for her, but he was not able to loose himself from the bond in which he was. "It is necessary for me" said he, "to part for a time, I know not how long from thee Angharad, and from thee my son Einion," and they wept together, and broke a gold ring between them; he kept one half, and Angharad the other; and they took their leave of each other, and he went with the Lady of the Wood, and he knew not where; for a powerful illusion was upon him, and saw not any place, a person, or object under its true and proper appearance, excepting the half of the ring alone. And after being a long time, he knew not how long, with the Goblin, the Lady of the Wood, he looked one morning as the sun was rising upon the half of the ring, and he bethought him to place it in the most precious place he could and resolved to put it under his eyelid; and as he was endeavouring to do so, he could see a man in white apparel, and mounted on a snow-white horse, coming towards him, and that person asked him what he did there; and he told him that he was cherishing an afflicting remembrance of his wife Angharad. "Dos't thou desire to see her," said the man in white, "get up on this horse behind me"; and that Einion did, and looking around he could not see any appearance of the Lady of the Wood, the Goblin; excepting the track of hoofs of marvellous and monstrous size, as if journeying towards the north. "What delusion art thou under?" said the man in white. Then Einion answered him and told everything, how it occurred betwixt him and the Goblin. "Take this white staff in thy hand," said the man in white; and Einion took it. And the man in white told him to desire whatever he wished for. The first thing he desired was to see the Lady of the Wood, for he was not yet completely delivered from the illusion. And she appeared to him in size a hideous and monstrous witch, a thousand times more repulsive of aspect than the most frightful things seen upon earth. And Einion uttered a cry from terror; and the man in white cast his cloak over Einion, and in less than a twinkling Einion alighted as he wished on the hill of Treveilir, by his own house, where he knew scarcely anyone, nor did anyone know him. After the Goblin had left Einion, the son of Gwalchmai, she went to Treveilir in the form of an honourable and powerful nobleman elegantly and sumptuously appareled, and possessed of an incalculable amount of gold and silver, and also in the prime of life, that is thirty years of age. And he placed a letter in Angharad's hand in which it was stated that Einion had died in Norway more than nine years before, and he then exhibited his gold and wealth to Angharad; and she, having in the course of time lost much of her regret, listened to his affectionate address. And the illusion fell upon her, and seeing that she should become a noble lady higher than any in Wales, she named a day for her marriage with him. And there was a great preparation of every elegant and sumptuous kind of apparel, and of meats and drinks, and of every honourable guest, and every excellence of song and string, and every preparation of banquet and festive entertainment. And when the honourable saw a particularly beautiful harp in Angharad's room, he wished to have it played on; and the harpers present, the best in Wales, tried to put it in tune, but were not able. And when everything was made ready for to proceed to Church to be married, Einion came into the house and Angharad saw him as an old decrepit, withered, gray-haired man, stooping with age, and dressed in rags, and she asked him if he would turn the spit whilst the meat was roasting. "I will," said he and went about the work with the white staff in his hand after the manner of a man carrying a pilgrim's staff. And after dinner had been prepared, all the minstrels failing to put the harp in tune for Angharad, Einion got up and took it in his hand, and tuned it, and played on it the air which Angharad loved. And she marvelled exceedingly, and asked him who he was. And he answered in song and stanza thus:

"Einion the golden-hearted, am I called by all around;
The son of Gwalchmai, Ap Meilir
My fond illusion continued long,
Evil thought of for my lengthened stay."

"Where has thou been?"

"In Kent, in Gwent, in the wood in Monmouth, in Maelor Gorwenydd;
And in the Valley of Gwyn, the son of Nudd,
See the bright gold is the token."

And he gave her the ring.

"Look not on the whitened hue of the hair.
Where once my aspect was spirited and bold;
Now gray, without disguise, where once it was yellow;
The blossoms of the grave--the end of all men.
The fate that so long affected me, it was time that should
alter me;
Never was Angharad out of my remembrance,
Einion was by thee forgotten."

And she could not bring him to her recollection.

Then said he to the guests:--

"If I have lost her whom I loved, the fair one of the polished
mind,
The daughter of Ednyved Vychan;
I have not lost (so get you out)--
Either my bed, or my house, or my fire."

And upon that he placed the white staff in Angharad's hand, and instantly the Goblin which she had hitherto seen as a handsome and honourable nobleman, appeared to her as a monster, inconceivably hideous; and fainted from fear, and Einion supported her until she revived. And when she opened her eyes, she saw there neither the Goblin, nor any of the guests, or of the minstrels, nor anything whatever except Einion, and her son and the harp, and the house in its domestic arrangement, and the dinner on the table, casting its savoury odour around. And they sat down to eat; Einion and Angharad and Einion their son; and exceeding great was the enjoyment. And they saw the illusion which the demoniacal Goblin had cast over them. And by this perchance may be seen that love of female beauty and gentleness is the greatest fascination of man; the love of honours with their vanities and riches, is the greatest fascination of woman. No man will forget his wife, unless he sets his heart on the beauty of another; nor woman her husband, unless she sets her heart on the riches and honour of lordly vaingloriousness and the pomp of pride. And thus it ends."

Ednyved Vychan, whose name is mentioned in the beginning of the above story as Einion's father-in-law, was Lord of Brynffenigl in Denbighshire, and flourished seven hundred years ago. He was a most powerful chieftain, and from him descended in the male line Henry VII. King of England, an ancestor to nearly all if not all the present monarchs of Europe.

MERMAIDS.

It seems probable that the tradition of Mermaids is of the same origin as that of fairies.

In Campbell's Superstitions of the Scottish Highlands, it is stated that a man in North Harris, caught a mermaid on a rock, and to procure her release, she granted him his three wishes. He became a skilful herb-doctor, who could cure the King's evil and other diseases ordinarily incurable. This reminds us of the Fairy Lady of Llyn y Fanfach in Carmarthenshire, revealing to her sons the medical qualities of certain herbs and plants, thus enabling them to become eminent doctors.

In the Welsh tales the mermaid is described as half woman and half fish: above the waist a lovely woman, but below the waist like a fish. There are several mermaid stories on the west coast of Wales, or perhaps, different versions of the same tale.

It was believed that vengeance overtook those who showed cruelty to these beings, and there is a tradition still extant in Carmarthenshire, that a man who killed one of them in the neighbourhood of Pembrey, or Kidwelly, brought a curse upon himself, his family and his descendants until the ninth generation.

In times gone by, it seems that Cardiganshire with a sea-coast of about fifty miles, was noted for its mermaids; and according to Dryton, at the Battle of Agincourt, the county had "a mermaid sitting on a rock," as armorial bearings.

THE MERMAID AND THE FISHERMEN.

Mr. Lewis, Henbant, an old man who lives in the neighbourhood of Llanarth, Cardiganshire, told me the following tale five years ago, though I am indebted for some particulars to the Rev. D. Lewis, Vicar of Llansantffread:--In times gone by a mermaid was often seen on a rock known as Careg Ina, near New Quay. One day this sea creature became entangled in the nets of some fishermen who were out fishing some considerable distance from the land. She entreated the men to disentangle her, and allow her to return to the water. Her request was granted, and in gratitude the mermaid warned them of a coming storm, and advised them to make for the shore without delay. This they did hurriedly, and as they were nearing the land a terrific storm came on suddenly, and it was with difficulty that they managed to land safely. Other fishermen in another boat on the very same day, not having the advantage of being warned by the mermaid, were caught by the storm and met with a watery grave.

I have also discovered a version of this story at Aberporth, a seaside village some distance to the South of New Quay.

It was formerly believed that there were mermen as well as mermaids, though I have no Welsh tale of a merman.

THE FISHERMEN OF LLANDUDOCH AND THE MERMAID.

The following tale appeared in Welsh fifty years ago in "Y Brython," Vol. I. page 73; and the writer was the late eminent Welshman Gwynionydd, father of the present Vicar of Lledrod:--

"On a fine afternoon in September in the beginning of the last century, a fisherman named Pergrin proceeded to a recess in the rock near Pen Cemmes, (Pembrokeshire), and found there a mermaid doing her hair, and he took the water lady prisoner to his boat. We cannot imagine why the lady had not been more on her guard to avoid such a calamity; but if sea maidens are anything like land maidens, they often forget their duties when engaged in dealing with the oil of Maccassar, and making themselves ready to meet the young men. We know not what language is used by sea maidens ... but this one this time at any rate, talked, it is said, very good Welsh; for when she was in despair in Pergrin's custody weeping copiously, and with her tresses all dishevelled, she called out "Pergrin, if thou wilt let me go, I will give three shouts in the time of thy greatest need." So, in wonder and fear he let her go to walk the streets of the deep and visit her sweethearts there. Days and weeks passed without Pergrin seeing her after this; but one hot afternoon, when the sea was pretty calm, and the fishermen had no thought of danger, behold his old acquaintance showing her head and locks, and shouting out in a loud voice: "Pergrin! Pergrin! Pergrin! take up thy nets! take up thy nets! take up thy nets!" Pergrin and his companion instantly obeyed the message, and drew their nets in with great haste. In they went, passed the bar, and by the time they had reached the Pwll Cam, the most terrible storm had overspread the sea, while he and his companion were safe on land. Twice nine others had gone out with them, but they were all drowned, without having the chance of obeying the warning of the water lady.

A version of the above story is to be found also in Carnarvonshire, North Wales.

A MERMAID SEEN NEAR ABERYSTWYTH.

The following tale appeared in the interesting Welsh Magazine "Seren Gomer," for June, 1823:--

"Yn mis Gorphenaf, 1826, ffarmwr o blwyf Llanuwchaiarn, yn nghylch tair milltir o Aberystwyth, ty anedd yr hwn sydd o fewn i 300 llath o lan y mor, a aeth i wared i'r creigiau, pan yr oedd yr haul yn cyfodi ac yn pelydru yn hyfryd ar y mor, a gwelai fenyw (fel y tybiai) yn ymolchi yn y mor, o fewn i dafliad carreg ato; ar y cyntaf efe o wylder a aeth yn ei ol, ond ar adfyfyriad meddyliodd na fuasai un fenyw yn myned allan mor bell i'r mor, gan ei fod yr amser hwnw yn llifo; ac hefyd yr oedd yn sicr fod y dwfr yn chwe' troedfedd o ddyfnder yn y fan y gwelodd hi yn sefyll. Wedi meddwl felly, efe a syrthiodd ar ei wyneb, ac a ymlusgodd yn mlaen i fin y dibyn o ba le y cafodd olwg gyflawn arni dros fwy na haner awr. Wedi edrych digon arni ei hun, efe a ymlusgodd yn ei ol, ac a redodd i alw ei deulu i weled yr olygfa ryfeddol hon; wedi dywedid wrthynt yr hyn a welsai, efe a'u cyfarwyddodd o'r drws pa fan i fyned, ac ymlusgo i ymyl y graig fel y gwnaethai efe. Aeth rhai o honynt heb ond haner gwisgo, canys yr oedd yn foreu, a hwythau ond newydd gyfodi; ac wedi dyfod i'r fan, gwelsant hi dros o gylch deng mynyd, tra bu y ffarmwr yn galw ei wraig a'i blentyn ieuangaf. Pan ddaeth y wraig yn mlaen, ni syrthiodd hi i lawr, fel y gwnaethau y rhai eraill, ond cerddodd yn mlaen yn ngolwg y creadur; eithr cyn gynted ag y gwelodd y For-Forwyn hi, soddodd i'r dwfr, a nofiodd ymaith, nes oedd o gylch yr un pollder oddiwrth y tir ag y gwelsid hi ar y cyntaf; a'r holl deulu, y gwr, y wraig, a'r plant, y gweision, a'r morwynion, y rhai oeddynt oll yn ddeuddeg o rifedi, a redasant ar hyd y lan dros fwy na haner milltir, ac yn agos yr holl amser hwnw gwelent hi yn y mor, a rhai gweithiau yr oedd ei phen a'i hysgwyddau oll y tu uchaf i'r dwfr. Yr oedd carreg fawr, dros lathen o uchder yn y mor, ar ba un y safai pan welwyd hi gyntaf. Yr oedd yn sefyll allan o'r dwfr o'i chanol i fynu, a'r holl deulu a dystient ei bod yn gymwys yr un fath o ran dull a maintioli a dynes ieuanc o gylch deunaw oed. Yr oedd ei gwallt yn o fyr, ac o liw tywyll; ei gwyneb yn dra thlws; ci gwddf a'i breichiau fel arferol; ei bronau yn rhesymol, a'i chroen yn wynach nag eiddo un person a welsant erioed o'r blaen. Plygai yn fynych, fel pe buasai yn cymeryd dwfr i fynu ac yna yn dala ei llaw o flaen ei hwyneb dros oddeutu haner mynyd. Pan blygai ei hun felly, gwelid rhyw beth du, fel pe buasai cynffon fer, yn troi i fyny y tu ol iddi. Gwnaethai ryw swn yn fynych tebyg i disian, yr hwn a barai i'r graig i adseinio. Y ffarmwr, yr hwn a gafodd gyfleusdra i edrych arni dros gymaint o amser, a ddywedai na welodd ef ond ychydig iawn o wragedd mor hardd-deg yr olwg a'r For-Forwyn hon. Y mae yr holl deulu, yr ieuengaf o ba rai sydd yn un ar ddeg oed, yn awr yn fyw, a chawsom yr hanes hwn, air yn ngair, fel ei rhoddir yma, oddiwrthynt hwy eu hunain o fewn y mis diweddaf."

I have translated the above tale as literally as possible, almost word for word, and in English it reads as follows:--