Food and drink is passed to the poor over a coffin
GIVING FOOD OVER THE COFFIN. (From an old drawing.)
FOOTNOTES:[141]So the Spanish say, ‘The dead to the bier, the living to good cheer.’[142]‘Cymru Fu,’ 91.[143]‘Two Llancaiach men named Servis and Humphrey were arrested for fighting. They hadbeen to a funeral, had done the customary honours by the remains of the departed brother or sister who had suffered, died, and was “chested,” and then, after drowning their grief in the “cwrw,” finished up in the police-court with afinaleinvolving the payment of 5s.and costs, and 8s.8d.damage, or in default twenty-one days’ hard labour.’—‘Western Mail,’ Jan. 31, 1877.[144]Pennant, quoted by Roberts, ‘Camb. Pop. Ant.,’ 175.[145]‘Arch. Camb.’ 4th Se., iii., 332.
FOOTNOTES:
[141]So the Spanish say, ‘The dead to the bier, the living to good cheer.’
[141]So the Spanish say, ‘The dead to the bier, the living to good cheer.’
[142]‘Cymru Fu,’ 91.
[142]‘Cymru Fu,’ 91.
[143]‘Two Llancaiach men named Servis and Humphrey were arrested for fighting. They hadbeen to a funeral, had done the customary honours by the remains of the departed brother or sister who had suffered, died, and was “chested,” and then, after drowning their grief in the “cwrw,” finished up in the police-court with afinaleinvolving the payment of 5s.and costs, and 8s.8d.damage, or in default twenty-one days’ hard labour.’—‘Western Mail,’ Jan. 31, 1877.
[143]‘Two Llancaiach men named Servis and Humphrey were arrested for fighting. They hadbeen to a funeral, had done the customary honours by the remains of the departed brother or sister who had suffered, died, and was “chested,” and then, after drowning their grief in the “cwrw,” finished up in the police-court with afinaleinvolving the payment of 5s.and costs, and 8s.8d.damage, or in default twenty-one days’ hard labour.’—‘Western Mail,’ Jan. 31, 1877.
[144]Pennant, quoted by Roberts, ‘Camb. Pop. Ant.,’ 175.
[144]Pennant, quoted by Roberts, ‘Camb. Pop. Ant.,’ 175.
[145]‘Arch. Camb.’ 4th Se., iii., 332.
[145]‘Arch. Camb.’ 4th Se., iii., 332.
What connection there may be between these customs and the strange and striking rite of the Sin-eater, is a question worthy of careful consideration. It has been the habit of writers with family ties in Wales, whether calling themselves Welshmen or Englishmen, to associate these and like customs with the well-known character for hospitality which the Cymry have for ages maintained. Thus Malkin writes: ‘The hospitality of the country is not less remarkable on melancholy than on joyful occasions. The invitations to a funeral are very general and extensive; and the refreshments are not light, and taken standing, but substantial and prolonged. Any deficiency in the supply of ale would be as severely censured on this occasion, as at a festival.’[146]Some have thought that the bread-eating and beer-drinking are survivals of the sin-eating custom described by Aubrey, and repeated from him by others. But well-informed Welshmen have deniedthat any such custom as that of the Sin-eater ever existed in Wales at any time, or in the border shires; and it must not be asserted that they are wrong unless we have convincing proof to support the assertion. The existing evidence in support of the belief that there were once Sin-eaters in Wales I have carefully collated and (excluding hearsay and second-hand accounts), it is here produced. The first reference to the Sin-eater anywhere to be found is in the Lansdowne MSS. in the British Museum, in the handwriting of John Aubrey, the author. It runs thus: ‘In the county of Hereford was an old custom at funerals to hire poor people, who were to take upon them the sins of the party deceased. One of them (he was a long, lean, ugly, lamentable poor rascal), I remember, lived in a cottage on Rosse highway. The manner was that when the corpse was brought out of the house, and laid on the bier, a loaf of bread was brought out, and delivered to the Sin-eater, over the corpse, as also a mazard bowl of maple, full of beer (which he was to drink up), and sixpence in money, in consideration whereof he took upon him,ipso facto, all the sins of the defunct, and freed him or her from walking after they were dead.’ Aubrey adds, ‘and this custom though rarely used in our days, yet by some people was observed in the strictest time of the Presbyterian Government; as at Dynder (nolens volensthe parson of the parish), the kindred of a woman, deceased there, had this ceremony punctually performed, according to her will: and also, the like was done at the city of Hereford, in those times, where a woman kept many years before her death a mazard bowl for the Sin-eater; and the like in other places in this country; as also in Brecon, e.g., at Llangors, where Mr. Gwin, the minister, about 1640, could not hinder theperformance of this custom. I believe,’ says Aubrey, ‘this custom was heretofore used all over Wales.’ He states further, ‘A.D.1686: This custom is used to this day in North Wales.’ Upon this, Bishop White Kennet made this comment: ‘It seems a remainder of this custom which lately obtained at Amersden, in the county of Oxford; where, at the burial of every corpse, one cake and one flaggon of ale, just after the interment, were brought to the minister in the church porch.’[147]
No other writer of Aubrey’s time, either English or Welsh, appears to have made any reference to the Sin-eater in Wales; and equal silence prevails throughout the writings of all previous centuries. Since Aubrey, many references to it have been made, but never, so far as I can discover, by any writer in the Welsh language—a singular omission if there ever was such a custom, for concerning every other superstitious practice commonly ascribed to Wales the Welsh have written freely.
In August, 1852, the Cambrian Archæological Association held its sixth annual meeting at Ludlow, under the Presidency of Hon. R. H. Clive, M.P. At this meeting Mr. Matthew Moggridge, of Swansea, made some observations on the custom of the Sin-eater, when he added details not contained in Aubrey’s account given above. He said: ‘When a person died, his friends sent for the Sin-eater of the district, who on his arrival placed a plate of salt on the breast of the defunct, and upon the salt a piece of bread. He then muttered an incantation over the bread, which he finally ate, thereby eating up all the sins of the deceased. This done he received his fee of 2s.6d.and vanished as quickly as possible from the general gaze; for, as it was believed thathe really appropriated to his own use and behoof the sins of all those over whom he performed the above ceremony, he was utterly detested in the neighbourhood—regarded as a mere Pariah—as one irredeemably lost.’ The speaker then mentioned the parish of Llandebie where the above practice ‘was said to have prevailed to a recent period.’ He spoke of the survival of the plate and salt custom near Swansea, and indeed generally, within twenty years, (i.e. since 1830) and added: ‘In a parish near Chepstow it was usual to make the figure of a cross on the salt, and cutting an apple or an orange into quarters, to put one piece at each termination of the lines.’ Mr. Allen, of Pembrokeshire, testified that the plate and salt were known in that county, where also a lighted candle was stuck in the salt; the popular notion was that it kept away the evil spirit. Mr. E. A. Freeman, (the historian) asked if Sin-eater was the term used in the district where the custom prevailed, and Mr. Moggridge said it was.
Such is the testimony. I venture no opinion upon it further than may be conveyed in the remark that I cannot find any direct corroboration of it, as regards the Sin-eater, and I have searched diligently for it. The subject has engaged my attention from the first moment I set foot on Cambrian soil, and I have not only seen no reference to it in Welsh writings, but I have never met any unlettered Welshman who had ever heard of it. All this proves nothing, perhaps; but it weighs something.[148]
FOOTNOTES:[146]‘South Wales,’ 68.[147]Vide Hone’s ‘Year Book,’ 1832, p. 858.[148]Mr. Eugene Schuyler’s mention of a corresponding character in Turkistan is interesting: ‘One poor old man, however, I noticed, who seemed constantly engaged in prayer. On calling attention to him I was told that he was an iskatchi, a person who gets his living by taking on himself the sins of the dead, and thenceforth devoting himself to prayer for their souls. He corresponds to the Sin-eater of the Welsh border.’—‘Turkistan,’ ii., 28.
FOOTNOTES:
[146]‘South Wales,’ 68.
[146]‘South Wales,’ 68.
[147]Vide Hone’s ‘Year Book,’ 1832, p. 858.
[147]Vide Hone’s ‘Year Book,’ 1832, p. 858.
[148]Mr. Eugene Schuyler’s mention of a corresponding character in Turkistan is interesting: ‘One poor old man, however, I noticed, who seemed constantly engaged in prayer. On calling attention to him I was told that he was an iskatchi, a person who gets his living by taking on himself the sins of the dead, and thenceforth devoting himself to prayer for their souls. He corresponds to the Sin-eater of the Welsh border.’—‘Turkistan,’ ii., 28.
[148]Mr. Eugene Schuyler’s mention of a corresponding character in Turkistan is interesting: ‘One poor old man, however, I noticed, who seemed constantly engaged in prayer. On calling attention to him I was told that he was an iskatchi, a person who gets his living by taking on himself the sins of the dead, and thenceforth devoting himself to prayer for their souls. He corresponds to the Sin-eater of the Welsh border.’—‘Turkistan,’ ii., 28.
Of superstitions regarding salt, there are many in Wales. I have even encountered the special custom of placing a plate of salt on the breast of the corpse. In the case of an old woman from Cardiganshire, who was buried at Cardiff, and who was thus decked by her relatives, I was told the purpose of the plate of salt was to ‘prevent swelling.’ There is an Irish custom of placing a plate of snuff on the body of a corpse; hence the saying, addressed to an enemy, ‘I’ll get a pinch off your belly yet.’ The Irish also employ the plate of salt in the same manner. In view of the universal prevalence of superstitions regarding salt, too much weight should not be placed on this detail, in connection with the accounts of the Sin-eater. Such superstitions are of extreme antiquity, and they still survive even among the most cultivated classes. Salt falling toward a person was of old considered a most unlucky omen, the evil of which could only be averted by throwing a little of the fallen salt over the shoulder. My own wife observes this heathen rite to this day, and so, I fancy, do most men’s wives—jocularly, no doubt, but with a sort of feeling that ‘if thereisanything in it,’ &c. Salt was the ancient symbol of friendship, being deemed incorruptible. In the Isle of Man no important business was ventured on without salt in the pocket; marrying, moving, even the receiving of alms, must be sanctified by an exchange of salt between the parties. An influential legend is noted among the Manx inhabitants, of the dissolution of an enchanted palace on that island, through the spilling of salt on the ground. In Da Vinci’s picture of the Lord’s Supper, Judas Iscariot is represented as overturning the salt—anomen of the coming betrayal of Christ by that personage. In Russia, should a friend pass you the salt without smiling, a quarrel will follow. The Scotch put salt in a cow’s first milk after calving. Even the Chinese throw salt into water from which a person has been rescued from drowning. All these practices point either to lustration or propitiation.
It has been suggested that the custom of the Sin-eater is in imitation of the Biblical scapegoat. ‘And Aaron shall lay both his hands upon the head of the live goat, and confess over him all the iniquities of the children of Israel, and all their transgressions in all their sins, putting them upon the head of the goat, and shall send him away by the hand of a fit man into the wilderness. And the goat shall bear upon him all their iniquities unto a land not inhabited: and he shall let go the goat in the wilderness.’[149]This brings up the subject of charms and magic, and is illustrated in Wales, if not by the Sin-eater, by the cock and hen of St. Tegla’s Well. This well is about half-way between Wrexham and Ruthin, in the parish of Llandegla, and has been considered efficacious in curing epilepsy. One of the common names of that complaint in Welsh is Clwyf y Tegla, (Tegla’s disease). Relief is obtained by bathing in the well, and performing a superstitious ceremony in this manner: The patient repairs to the well after sunset, and washes himself in it; then, having made an offering by throwing into the water fourpence, he walks round it three times, and thrice recites the Lord’s Prayer. If of the male sex, he offers a cock; if a woman, a hen. The bird is carried in a basket, first round the well,then round the church, and the rite of repeating the Pater Noster again performed. After all this, he enters the church, creeps under the altar, and making the Bible his pillow and the communion cloth his coverlet, remains there until the break of day. In the morning, having made a further offering of sixpence, he leaves the cock (or hen, as the case may be) and departs. ‘Should the bird die, it is supposed that the disease has been transferred to it, and the man or woman consequently cured.’[150]The custom is associated with the ancient Druids as well as with the Jews, and its resemblance to the scapegoat is suggestive.
FOOTNOTES:[149]Levit. xvi., 21, 22.[150]Ab Ithel, ‘Arch. Camb.’ 1st Se., i., 184.
FOOTNOTES:
[149]Levit. xvi., 21, 22.
[149]Levit. xvi., 21, 22.
[150]Ab Ithel, ‘Arch. Camb.’ 1st Se., i., 184.
[150]Ab Ithel, ‘Arch. Camb.’ 1st Se., i., 184.
The funeral procession, in rural districts where hearses are unknown, wends its way graveward on foot, with the corpse borne by the nearest relatives of the deceased, a custom probably introduced in Wales during their residence here by the Romans. The coffin of Metellus, the conqueror of Macedon, was borne by his four sons. The coffins of Roman citizens held in high esteem by the Republic, were borne by justices and senators, while those of the enemies of the people were borne by slaves and hired servants. As the Welsh procession winds its way along the green lanes, psalms and hymns are sung continually, except on coming to cross-roads. Here the bier is set down, and all kneel and repeat the Lord’s Prayer. The origin of this custom, as given by the Welsh, is to be found in the former practice of burying criminals at cross-roads. It was believed that the spirits of these criminals did not go far away from the place where their bodies lay, and the repeating of the Lord’s Prayer was supposed to destroy and do away with any evilinfluence these spirits might have on the soul of the dear departed.[151]
The Welsh retain much of the superstitious feeling regarding the graves of criminals and suicides. There is indeed a strong prejudice against hanging, on account of the troublesome spirits thus let loose. The well-known leniency of a ‘Cardigan jury’ may be connected with this prejudice, though it is usually associated with a patriotic feeling. ‘What! would you have hur hang hur own countryman?’ is the famous response of a Cardigan juror, who was asked why he and his brethren acquitted a murderer. The tale may be only a legend; the fact it illustrates is patent. It is related that in a dispute between two Cardigan farmers, some fifty years ago, one of them killed the other. The jury, believing the killing was unintentional, acquitted the homicide; but ‘whether the man was guilty or not, his neighbours and the people who lived in the district, and who knew the spot where the farmer was killed, threw a stone upon it whenever they passed, probably to show their abhorrence of the deed that had been perpetrated in that place. By this means a large heap of stones, which was allowed to remain for many years, arose.’[152]They were then removed to repair the turnpike. This custom is apparently Jewish. Hangings are almost unknown in Wales, whether from the extra morality of the people, or the prejudice above noted.
FOOTNOTES:[151]‘Cymru Fu,’ 92.[152]‘Bye-gones,’ March 22, 1876.
FOOTNOTES:
[151]‘Cymru Fu,’ 92.
[151]‘Cymru Fu,’ 92.
[152]‘Bye-gones,’ March 22, 1876.
[152]‘Bye-gones,’ March 22, 1876.
The legend of the Grassless Grave is a well-known Montgomeryshire tale, concerning a certain spot of earth in the graveyard of Montgomery Castle, upon which the verdure is less luxuriant than in otherportions of the yard. One dark November night, many years ago, a man named John Newton, who had been at Welshpool fair, set out for home. Soon after, he was brought back to Welshpool in the custody of two men, who charged him with highway robbery, a crime then punishable with death. He was tried, and executed, in spite of his protestations; and in his last speech, admitting he had committed a former crime, but protesting he was innocent of this, he said: ‘I have offered a prayer to Heaven, and believe it has been heard and accepted. And in meek dependence on a merciful God, whom I have offended, but who, through the atonement of His blessed Son, has, I trust, pardoned my offence, I venture to assert that as I am innocent of the crime for which I suffer, the grass, for one generation at least, will not cover my grave.’ For thirty years thereafter, the grave was grassless; a bare spot in the shape of a coffin marked, amidst the surrounding luxuriance, the place where lay the penitent criminal, unjustly executed. Then a sacrilegious hand planted the spot with turf; but it withered as if blasted by lightning; and the grave is still grassless—certainly an unnecessary extension of the time set by the defunct for its testimony to his innocence.
A curious surviving custom at Welsh funerals is the Offrwm, or parson’s penny. After having read the burial service in the church, the parson stands behind a table while a psalm is being sung, and to him go the mourners, one and all, and deposit a piece of money on the table. The parson counts it, states the amount, and pockets it. If the mourner depositing his offrwm be wealthy, he will give perhaps a guinea; if a farmer or tradesman, hisgift will be a crown; and if poor, he will lay down his sixpence. ‘Each one that intended making an offering of silver, would go up to the altar in his turn, and after each one had contributed there would be a respite, after which those who gave copper as their offering went forward and did likewise; but no coppers were offered at any respectable funeral. These offerings often reached the sum of ten and even twenty pounds in the year.’ Thus the Welsh work, ‘Cymru Fu,’ speaking as usual in the past tense; but the custom is a present-day one. The Welsh believe that this custom was originally intended to compensate the clergyman for praying for the soul of the departed. It has now ceased to mean anything more than a tribute of respect to the deceased, or a token of esteem towards the officiating clergyman.
In the parish of Defynog, Breconshire, there was a custom (up to 1843, when it seems to have ceased through the angry action of a lawless widower,) of giving to the parish clerk the best pair of shoes and stockings left behind by the defunct.[153]
A still more curious form of the offrwm, which also survives in many rural neighbourhoods, is called the Arian y Rhaw, or spade money. At the grave, the gravedigger rubs the soil off his spade, extends it for donations, and receives a piece of silver from each one in turn, which he also pockets. In Merionethshire the money is received at the grave in a bowl, instead of on the spade, and the gift is simply called the offrwm. ‘I well recollect, when a lad,’ says an entertaining correspondent,[154]‘at Llanrhaiadr-yn-Mochnant, seeing the clerk or sexton cleaning his spade with the palm of his hand, and blowing the remaining dust, so that the instrumentof his calling should be clean and presentable, and then, with due and clerk-like gravity, presenting his polished spade, first to the “cyfneseifiaid” (next-of-kin), and then to the mourners one by one, giving all an opportunity of showing their respect to the dead, by giving the clerk the accustomed offrwm. At times the old clerk, “yr hen glochydd,” when collecting the offrwm, rather than go around the grave to the people, to the no small annoyance of the friends, would reach his spade over the grave. At the particular time referred to, the clerk, having nearly had all the offrwm, saw that facetious wag and practical joker, Mr. B., extending his offering towards him from the opposite side of the grave. The clerk, as was his wont, extended the spade over the grave towards the offered gift. The opportunity for fun was not to be lost, and whilst placing his offrwm on the spade, Mr. B. pressed on one corner, and the spade turned in the hands of the unwitting clerk, emptying the whole offering into the grave, to the no small surprise of the clerk, who never forgot the lesson, and the great amusement of the standers-by.’ It is noted in this connection that the sexton’s spade ‘was a terror to the superstitious, for if the gravedigger would but shake his spade at anyone, it was a matter of but short time ere the sexton would be called upon to dig the grave of that person who had come under the evil influence of the spade. “Has the sexton shook his spade at you?” was a question often put to a person in bad health.’
FOOTNOTES:[153]‘Arch. Camb.,’ 2nd Se., iv., 326.[154]‘Bye-gones,’ Oct. 17, 1877.
FOOTNOTES:
[153]‘Arch. Camb.,’ 2nd Se., iv., 326.
[153]‘Arch. Camb.,’ 2nd Se., iv., 326.
[154]‘Bye-gones,’ Oct. 17, 1877.
[154]‘Bye-gones,’ Oct. 17, 1877.
Until a recent date, burials without a coffin were common in some parts of Wales. Old people in Montgomeryshire not many years ago, couldremember such burials, in what was called the cadach deupen, or cloth with two heads. Old Richard Griffith, of Trefeglwys, who died many years ago, recollected a burial in this fashion there, when the cloth gave way and was rent; whereupon the clergyman prohibited any further burials in that churchyard without a coffin. That was the last burial of the kind which took place in Montgomeryshire.[155]
In the middle ages there was a Welsh custom of burying the dead in the garment of a monk, as a protection against evil spirits. This was popular among the wealthy, and was a goodly source of priestly revenue.
FOOTNOTE:[155]‘Bye-gones,’ Nov. 22, 1876.
FOOTNOTE:
[155]‘Bye-gones,’ Nov. 22, 1876.
[155]‘Bye-gones,’ Nov. 22, 1876.
Sul Coffa is an old Welsh custom of honouring the dead on the Sunday following the funeral, and for several succeeding Sundays, until the violence of grief has abated. In the Journal of Thomas Dinelly, Esquire, an Englishman who travelled through Wales and Ireland in the reign of Charles II.,[156]this passage occurs, after description of the wake, the keening, etc.: ‘This done yeIrish bury their dead, and if it be in or neer yeburying place of that family, the servants and followers hugg kiss howle and weep over the skulls that are there digg’d up and once a week for a quarter of an year after come two or three and pay more noyse at the place.’ The similarity in spirit between this and the Welsh Sul Coffa is as striking as the difference in practice. The Welsh walk quietly and gravely to the solemn mound beneath which rest the remains of the loved, and there kneeling in silence for five or ten minutes, pray or appear to pray.
The Sul Coffa of Ivan the Harper is a well-knownanecdote. Ivan the Harper was a noted character in his day, who desired that his coffa should be thus: ‘I should like,’ said he, on his death-bed, ‘to have my coffa; but not in the old style. Instead of the old custom ask Williams of Merllyn and Richard the Harper to attend the church at Llanfwrog, and give these, my disciples, my two harps, and after the service is over, let them walk to my grave; let Williams sit at the head and Richard at the feet, of my grave, and let them play seven Welsh airs, beginning with Dafydd y Garreg Wen,’ (David of the White Stone) ‘and ending with, Toriad y Dydd,’ (the Dawn.) ‘The former is in a flat key, like death, and the latter is as sober as the day of judgment.’ This request was religiously obeyed by the mourners on the ensuing Sul Coffa.
FOOTNOTE:[156]Quoted in the Proceedings of the Kilkenny Arch. Soc., 1858.
FOOTNOTE:
[156]Quoted in the Proceedings of the Kilkenny Arch. Soc., 1858.
[156]Quoted in the Proceedings of the Kilkenny Arch. Soc., 1858.
Reference has been made, in the chapter on courtship and marriage, to the Welsh practice of planting graves with flowers. There are graves in Glamorganshire which have been kept blooming with flowers for nearly a century without interruption, through the loving care of descendants of the departed. By a most graceful custom which also prevailed until recently, each mourner at a funeral carried in his hand a sprig of rosemary, which he threw into the grave. The Pagan practice of throwing a sprig of cypress into the grave has been thought to symbolize the annihilation of the body, as these sprigs would not grow if set in the earth: whereas the rosemary was to signify the resurrection or up-springing of the body from the grave. The existing custom of throwing flowers and immortelles into the grave is derivable from the ancient practice. But the Welsh carry the association of graves andfloral life to the most lavish extreme, as has already been pointed out. Shakspeare has alluded to this in ‘Cymbeline,’ the scene of which tragedy is principally in Pembrokeshire, at and about Milford Haven:
Arv.With fairest flowers,Whilst summer lasts, and I live here, Fidele,I’ll sweeten thy sad grave: Thou shalt not lackThe flower, that’s like thy face, pale primrose; norThe azur’d harebell, like thy veins; no, norThe leaf of eglantine, whom not to slander,Outsweeten’d not thy breath.[157]
Arv.With fairest flowers,Whilst summer lasts, and I live here, Fidele,I’ll sweeten thy sad grave: Thou shalt not lackThe flower, that’s like thy face, pale primrose; norThe azur’d harebell, like thy veins; no, norThe leaf of eglantine, whom not to slander,Outsweeten’d not thy breath.[157]
Arv.With fairest flowers,Whilst summer lasts, and I live here, Fidele,I’ll sweeten thy sad grave: Thou shalt not lackThe flower, that’s like thy face, pale primrose; norThe azur’d harebell, like thy veins; no, norThe leaf of eglantine, whom not to slander,Outsweeten’d not thy breath.[157]
Music notation for Dafydd y Garreg Wen
[Listen.][Listen to a longer version.]
FOOTNOTE:[157]‘Cymbeline,’ Act IV., Sc. 2.
FOOTNOTE:
[157]‘Cymbeline,’ Act IV., Sc. 2.
[157]‘Cymbeline,’ Act IV., Sc. 2.
Gorgons, and hydras, and chimeras dire.Milton:Paradise Lost.
Gorgons, and hydras, and chimeras dire.
Gorgons, and hydras, and chimeras dire.
Milton:Paradise Lost.
Then up there raise ane wee wee manFranethe the moss-gray stane;His face was wan like the collifloure,For he nouthir had blude nor bane.Hogg:The Witch of Fife.
Then up there raise ane wee wee manFranethe the moss-gray stane;His face was wan like the collifloure,For he nouthir had blude nor bane.
Then up there raise ane wee wee manFranethe the moss-gray stane;His face was wan like the collifloure,For he nouthir had blude nor bane.
Hogg:The Witch of Fife.
... where he stood,Of auncient time there was a springing well,From which fast trickled forth a silver flood,Full of great vertues, and for med’cine good: ...For unto life the dead it could restore.Spenser:Faerie Queene.
... where he stood,Of auncient time there was a springing well,From which fast trickled forth a silver flood,Full of great vertues, and for med’cine good: ...For unto life the dead it could restore.
... where he stood,Of auncient time there was a springing well,From which fast trickled forth a silver flood,Full of great vertues, and for med’cine good: ...For unto life the dead it could restore.
Spenser:Faerie Queene.
Base of the Primeval Mythology—Bells and their Ghosts—The Bell that committed Murder and was damned for it—The Occult Powers of Bells—Their Work as Detectives, Doctors, etc.—Legend of the Bell of Rhayader—St. Illtyd’s Wonderful Bell—The Golden Bell of Llandaff.
Base of the Primeval Mythology—Bells and their Ghosts—The Bell that committed Murder and was damned for it—The Occult Powers of Bells—Their Work as Detectives, Doctors, etc.—Legend of the Bell of Rhayader—St. Illtyd’s Wonderful Bell—The Golden Bell of Llandaff.
The human mind in its infancy turns instinctively to fetichism. The mind of primeval man resembled that of a child. Children have to learn by experience that the fire which burns them is not instigated by malice.[158]In his primitive condition, manpersonified everything in nature. Animate and inanimate objects were alike endowed with feelings, passions, emotions, moral qualities. On this basis rests the primeval mythology.
The numerous superstitions associated with bells, wells and stones in Wales, excite constant inquiries as regards their origin in fetichism, in paganism, in solar worship, or in church observances. That bells, especially, should suggest the supernatural to the vulgar mind is not strange. The occult powers of bells have place in the popular belief of many lands. The Flemish child who wonders how the voices got into the bells is paralleled by the Welsh lad who hears the bells of Aberdovey talking in metrical words to a musical chime. The ghosts of bells are believed to haunt the earth in many parts of Wales. Allusion has been made to those castle bells which are heard ringing from the submerged towers in Crumlyn lake. Like fancies are associated with many Welsh lakes. In Langorse Pool, Breconshire, an ancient city is said to lie buried, from whose cathedral bells on a calm day may be heard a faint and muffled chime, pealing solemnly far down in the sepial depths. A legend of Trefethin relates that in the church of St. Cadoc, at that place, was a bell of wondrous powers, a gift from Llewellyn ap Iorwerth, Lord of Caerleon. A little child who had climbed to the belfry was struck by the bell and killed, not through the wickedness of the bell itself, but through a spell which had been put upon the unfortunate instrument by an evil spirit. But though innocent of murderous intent, the wretched bell became forfeit to the demons on account of its fatal deed. They seized it and bore it down through the earth to the shadow-realm of annwn. And ever since that day, when achild is accidentally slain at Trefethin, the bell of St. Cadoc is heard tolling mournfully underneath the ground where it disappeared ages ago.
FOOTNOTE:[158]A Mississippi negro-boy who was brought by a friend of mine from his southern home to a northern city, and who had never seen snow, found the ground one morning covered with what he supposed to be salt, and going out to get some, returned complaining that it ‘bit his fingers.’
FOOTNOTE:
[158]A Mississippi negro-boy who was brought by a friend of mine from his southern home to a northern city, and who had never seen snow, found the ground one morning covered with what he supposed to be salt, and going out to get some, returned complaining that it ‘bit his fingers.’
[158]A Mississippi negro-boy who was brought by a friend of mine from his southern home to a northern city, and who had never seen snow, found the ground one morning covered with what he supposed to be salt, and going out to get some, returned complaining that it ‘bit his fingers.’
There was anciently a belief that the sound of brass would break enchantment, as well as cause it; and it is presumed that the original purpose of the common custom of tolling the bell for the dead was to drive away evil spirits. Originally, the bell was tolled not for the dead, but for the dying; it was believed that evil spirits were hovering about the sick chamber, waiting to pounce on the soul as soon as it should get free from the body; and the bell was tolled for the purpose of driving them away. Later, the bell was not tolled till death had occurred, and this form of the custom survives here, as in many lands. Before the Reformation there was kept in all Welsh churches a handbell, which was taken by the sexton to the house where a funeral was to be held, and rung at the head of the procession. When the voices of the singers were silent at the end of a psalm, the bell would take up the burden of complaint in measured and mournful tones, and ring till another psalm was begun. It was at this period deemed sacred. The custom survived long after the Reformation in many places, as at Caerleon, the little Monmouthshire village which was a bustling Roman city when London was a hamlet. The bell—called the bangu—was still preserved in the parish of Llanfair Duffryn Clwyd half-a-dozen years ago. I believe the custom of ringing a handbell before the corpse on its way through the streets is still observed at Oxford, when a university man is buried. The town marshal is the bellman for this office. The custom isassociated with the same superstitious belief which is seen in the ‘passing bell,’ the notes of pure bronze freeing the soul from the power of evil spirits.
The Welsh were formerly strong in the belief that bells could perform miracles, detect thieves, heal the sick, and the like. In many instances they were possessed of locomotive powers, and would transport themselves from place to place when they had occasion, according to their own sweet will, and without human intervention. It is even recorded that certain handbells required to be tied with the double cord of an exorcism and a piece of twine, or they would get up and walk off in the night.
Bells which presaged storms, as well as other disasters, have been believed to exist in many parts of Wales. In Pembrokeshire the unexpected tolling of a church bell in the night is held to be the sure precursor of a calamity—a belief which may be paralleled in London, where there are still people who believe such tolling on the part of the great bell of St. Paul’s portends disaster to the royal family. In the Cromwellian wars, the sacrilegious followers of the stern old castle-hater carried off a great bell from St. David’s, Pembrokeshire. They managed to get it on shipboard, but in passing through Ramsey Sound the vessel was wrecked—a direct result, the superstitious said, of profanely treating the bell. Ever since that time, Pembroke people have been able to hear this sunken bell ring from its watery grave when a storm is rising.
The legend of the Bell of Rhayader perpetuates a class of story which reappears in other parts ofGreat Britain. It was in the twelfth century that a certain contumacious knight was imprisoned in the castle of Rhayader. His wife, being devoted to him, and a good Catholic, besought the aid of the monks to get him out. They were equal to the occasion, at least in so far as to provide for her service a magical bell, which possessed the power of liberating from confinement any prisoner who should set it up on the wall and ring it. The wife succeeded in getting the bell secretly into her husband’s possession, and he set it up on the wall and rang it. But although he had gathered his belongings together and was fully prepared to go, the doors of his prison refused to open. The castellan mocked at the magical bell, and kept the knight in durance vile. So therefore (for of course the story could not be allowed to end here) the castle was struck by lightning, and both it and the town were burned in one night—excepting only the wall upon which the magic bell was hanging. Nothing remains of the castle walls in this day.
The bell of St. Illtyd was greatly venerated in the middle ages. A legend concerning this wonderful bell relates that a certain king had stolen it from the church, and borne it into England, tied about the neck of one of his horses. For this deed the king was destroyed, but repenting before his death, ordered the bell to be restored to its place in Wales. Without waiting to be driven, the horse with the bell about his neck set out for Wales, followed by a whole drove of horses, drawn by the melodious sound of the bell. Wonderful to tell, the horse was able to cross the river Severn and come into Wales, the great collection of horses following.‘Then hastening along the shore, and over the mountains, and through the woods, he came to the road which went towards Glamorgan, all the horses hearing, and following the sweet sound.’ When they came to the banks of the river Taff, a clergyman heard the sound of the bell, and went out to meet the horse, and they together carried the bell to the gate of St. Illtyd’s church. There the horse bent down and loosed his precious burden from his neck, ‘and it fell on a stone, from which fall a part of it was broken, which is to be seen until the present day, in memory of the eminent miracle.’[159]
Some thirty years ago a bell was discovered at Llantwit Major, in Glamorganshire, which was thought to be the identical bell of this saint. The village named was the scene of his exploits, many of which were miraculous to the point of Arabian Nights marvelousness. The discovered bell was inscribed ‘Sancte Iltute, ora pro nobis,’ and stood upon the gable of the quaint old town-hall. But though the bell was unmistakably ancient, it bore intrinsic evidence of having been cast long after the saint’s death, when his name had become venerated. He was one of King Arthur’s soldiers, who afterwards renounced the world, and founded several churches in Glamorganshire.
FOOTNOTE:[159]‘Cambro-British Saints,’ 492.
FOOTNOTE:
[159]‘Cambro-British Saints,’ 492.
[159]‘Cambro-British Saints,’ 492.
Among the many legends of Llandaff which still linger familiarly on the lips of the people is that of the bell of St. Oudoceus, second bishop of that see. In the ancient ‘Book of Llandaff,’ where are preserved the records of that cathedral from the earliest days of Christianity on this island, the legend is thus related: ‘St. Oudoceus, being thirsty after undergoinglabour, and more accustomed to drink water than any other liquor, came to a fountain in the vale of Llandaff, not far from the church, that he might drink, where he found women washing butter, after the manner of the country; and sending to them his messengers and disciples, they requested that they would accommodate them with a vessel, that their pastor might drink therefrom; who, ironically, as mischievous girls, said, “We have no cup besides that which we hold in our hands, namely, the butter.” And the man of blessed memory taking it, formed one in the shape of a small bell, and he raised his hand so that he might drink therefrom, and he drank. And it remained in that form, that is, a golden one, so that it appeared to those who beheld it to consist altogether of the purest gold, which, by divine power, is from that day reverently preserved in the church of Llandaff in memory of the holy man, and it is said that by touching it health is given to the diseased.’[160]
Music notation for Clychau Aberdyfi (The Bells of Aberdovey)
[Listen.]
FOOTNOTE:[160]‘Liber Landavensis,’ 378.
FOOTNOTE:
[160]‘Liber Landavensis,’ 378.
[160]‘Liber Landavensis,’ 378.
Mystic Wells—Their Good and Bad Dispositions—St. Winifred’s Well—The Legend of St. Winifred—Miracles—St. Tecla’s Well—St. Dwynwen’s—Curing Love-sickness—St. Cynfran’s—St. Cynhafal’s—Throwing Pins in Wells—Warts—Barry Island and its Legends—Ffynon Gwynwy—Propitiatory Gifts to Wells—The Dreadful Cursing Well of St. Elian’s—Wells Flowing with Milk—St. Illtyd’s—Taff’s Well—Sanford’s Well—Origins of Superstitions of this Class.
Mystic Wells—Their Good and Bad Dispositions—St. Winifred’s Well—The Legend of St. Winifred—Miracles—St. Tecla’s Well—St. Dwynwen’s—Curing Love-sickness—St. Cynfran’s—St. Cynhafal’s—Throwing Pins in Wells—Warts—Barry Island and its Legends—Ffynon Gwynwy—Propitiatory Gifts to Wells—The Dreadful Cursing Well of St. Elian’s—Wells Flowing with Milk—St. Illtyd’s—Taff’s Well—Sanford’s Well—Origins of Superstitions of this Class.
The waters of mystery which flow at Lourdes, in France, are paralleled in numberless Welsh parishes. In every corner of Cambria may be found wells which possess definite attributes, malicious or beneficent, which they are popularly supposed to actively exert toward mankind. In almost every instance, the name of the tutelary saint to whom the well is consecrated is known to the peasantry, and generally they can tell you something about him, or her. Unnumbered centuries have elapsed since the saint lived; nay, generation upon generation has perished since any complete knowledge of his life or character existed, save in mouldering manuscripts left by monks, themselves long turned to dust; yet the tradition of the saint as regards the well is there, a living thing beside its waters. However lightly some forms of superstition may at times be treated by the vulgar, they are seldom capable of irreverent remark concerning the well. In many cases this respect amounts to awe.
These wells are of varying power and disposition. Some are healing wells; others are cursing wells;still others combine the power alike to curse and to cure. Some are sovereign in their influence over all the diseases from which men suffer, mental and moral as well as physical; others can cure but one disease, or one specific class of diseases; and others remedy all the misfortunes of the race, make the poor rich, the unhappy happy, and the unlucky lucky. That these various reputations arose in some wells from medicinal qualities found by experience to dwell in the waters, is clear at a glance; but in many cases the character of the patron saint gives character to the well. In parishes dedicated to the Virgin Mary there will almost inevitably be found a Ffynon Mair, (Well of Mary,) the waters of which are supposed to be purer than the waters of other wells. Sometimes the people will take the trouble to go a long distance for water from the Ffynon Mair, though a good well may be nearer, in whose water chemical analysis can find no difference. Formerly, and indeed until within a few years past, no water would do for baptizing but that fetched from the Ffynon Mair, though it were a mile or more from the church. That the water flowed southward was in some cases held to be a secret of its virtue. In other instances, wells which opened and flowed eastward were thought to afford the purest water.
Most renowned and most frequented of Welsh wells is St. Winifred’s, at Holywell. By the testimony of tradition it has been flowing for eleven hundred and eighty years, or since the year 700, and during all this time has been constantly visited by throngs of invalids; and that it will continue to be so frequented for a thousand years to come is not doubted, apparently, by the members of the HolywellLocal Board, who have just taken a lease of the well from the Duke of Westminster for 999 years more, at an annual rental of £1. The town of Holywell probably owes not only name but existence to this well. Its miraculous powers are extensively believed in by the Welsh, and by people from all parts of Great Britain and the United States; but Drayton’s assertion that no dog could be drowned in its waters, on account of their beneficent disposition, is not an article of the existing faith. The most prodigious fact in connection with this wonderful fountain, when its legendary origin is contemplated, is its size, its abounding life, the great volume of its waters. A well which discharges twenty-one tons of water per minute, which feeds an artificial lake and runs a mill, and has cured unnumbered thousands of human beings of their ills for hundreds of years, is surely one of the wonders of the world, to which even mystic legend can only add one marvel more.
The legend of St. Winifred, or Gwenfrewi, as she is called in Welsh, was related by the British monk Elerius in the year 660, or by Robert of Salop in 1190, and is in the Cotton MSS. in the British Museum. It is there written in characters considered to be of the middle of the eleventh century. Winifred was the daughter of a valiant soldier in North Wales; from her youth she loved a heavenly spouse, and refused transitory men. One day Caradoc, a descendant of royal stock, came to her house fatigued from hunting wild beasts, and asked Winifred for drink. But seeing the beauty of the nymph he forgot his thirst in his admiration, and at once besought her to treat him with the familiarity of a sweetheart. Winifred refused, asserting that she was engaged to be married to another. Caradocbecame furious at this, and said, ‘Leave off this foolish, frivolous, and trifling mode of speaking, and consent to my wish.’ Then he asked her to be his wife. Finding he would not be denied, Winifred had recourse to a stratagem to escape from him: she pretended to comply, but asked leave to first make a becoming toilet. Caradoc agreed, on condition that she should make it quickly. The girl went through her chamber with swift feet into the valley, and was escaping, when Caradoc perceived the trick, and mounting his horse spurred after her. He overtook her at the very door of the monastery to which she was fleeing; before she could place her foot within the threshold he struck off her head at one blow. St. Beino coming quickly to the door saw bloody Caradoc standing with his stained sword in his hand, and immediately cursed him as he stood, so that the bloody man melted in his sight like wax before a fire. Beino then took the virgin’s head (which had been thrown inside the door by the blow which severed it) and fitted it on the neck of the corpse. Winifred thereupon revived, with no further harm than a small line on her neck. But the floor upon which her bloody head had fallen, cracked open, and a fountain sprang up like a torrent at the spot. ‘And the stones appear bloody at present as they did at first, and the moss smells as frankincense, and it cures divers diseases.’[161]Thus far the monastic legend. Some say that Caradoc’s descendants were doomed to bark like dogs.
Among the miracles related of Winifred’s well by her monkish biographer is one characterized as ‘stupendous,’ concerning three bright stones which were seen in the middle of the ebullition of the fountain, ascending and descending, ‘up and downby turns, after the manner of stones projected by a shooter.’ They so continued to dance for many years, but one day an unlucky woman was seized with a desire to play with the stones. So she took hold of one; whereat they all vanished, and the woman died. This miracle was supplemented by that of a man who was rebuked for theft at the fountain; and on his denying his guilt, the goat which he had stolen and eaten became his accuser by uttering an audible bleating from his belly. But the miracles of Winifred’s well are for the most part records of wonderful cures from disease and deformity. Withered and useless limbs were made whole and useful; the dumb bathed in the water, came out, and asked for their clothes; the blind washed and received their sight; lunatics ‘troubled by unclean spirits’ were brought to the well in chains, ‘tearing with their teeth and speaking vain things,’ but returned homeward in full possession of their reason. Fevers, paralysis, epilepsy, stone, gout, cancers, piles—these are but a few of the diseases cured by the marvellous well, on the testimony of the ancient chronicler of the Cotton MSS. ‘Nor is it to be hidden in the silence of Lethean oblivion that after the expulsion of the Franks from all North Wales’ the fountain flowed with a milky liquor for the space of three days. A priest bottled some of it, and it ‘was carried about and drunk in all directions,’ curing diseases in the same manner as the well itself.