1This chapter, except where a later date is suggested, may be regarded as written in the summer of 1883.↑2Trefriwmeans the town of the slope or hillside, and stands forTref y Riw, nottref y Rhiw, which would have yieldedTreffriw, for there is a tendency in Gwyneđ to make the mutation after the definite article conform to the general rule, and to sayy law, ‘the hand,’ andy raw, ‘the spade,’ instead of what would be in booksy ỻawandy rhawfromyr ỻawandyr rhaw.↑3Why the writer spells the name Criccieth in this way I cannot tell, except that he was more or less under the influence of the more intelligible spellingCrugcaith, as where Lewis Glyn Cothi. I. xxiv, sangRhys ab Sion â’r hysbys iaith,Gwr yw acw o Grugcaith.This spelling postulates the interpretationCrug-Caith, earlierCrug y Ceith, ‘the mound or barrow of the captives,’ in reference to some forgotten interment; but when the accent receded to the first syllable the second was slurred almost out of recognition, so thatCrug-ceith, orCruc-ceith, becameCrúceth, whenceCrúci̭ethandCrici̭eth. TheBrutshaveCrugyeiththe only time it occurs, and theRecord of Carnarvon(several times)Krukyth.↑4Out of excessive fondness for our Arthur English people translate this name into Arthur’s Seat instead of Idris’ Seat; but Idris was also somebody: he was a giant with a liking for the study of the stars. But let that be: I wish to say a word concerning his name: Idris may be explained as meaning ‘War-champion,’ or the like; and, phonologically speaking, it comes fromIuđ-rys, which was made successively intoId-rys,Idris. The syllablei̭uđmeant battle or fight, and it undergoes a variety of forms in Welsh names. Thus beforen,r,l, andw, it becomesid, as inIdnerth,Idloes, andIdwal, whileIuđ-haelyieldsIthel, whence Ab Ithel, anglicizedBethel. At the end, however, it isyđoruđ, as inGruffuđorGruffyđ, from Old WelshGrippi̭uđ, andMareduđorMeredyđfor an olderMarget-i̭uđ. By itself it is possibly the word which the poets writeuđ, and understand to meanlord; but if these forms are related, it must have originally meant rather a fighter, soldier, or champion.↑5There is a special similarity between this and an Anglesey story given by Howells, p. 138: it consists in the sequence of seeing the fairies dance and finding money left by them. Why was the money left?↑6It was so called by the poet D. ab Gwilym, cxcii. 12, when he sang:I odi ac i luchioOđiar lechweđ Moel Eilio.To bring snow and drifting flakesFrom off Moel Eilio’s slope.↑7This is commonly pronounced ‘Y Gath Dorwen,’ but the people of the neighbourhood wish to explain away a farm name which could, strangely enough, only mean ‘the white-bellied cat’; buty Garth Dorwen, ‘the white-belliedgarthor hill,’ is not a very likely name either.↑8The hiring time in Wales is the beginning of winter and of summer; or, as one would say in Welsh, at the Calends of Winter and the Calends ofMay respectively. In North Cardiganshire the great hiring fair was held at the former date when I was a boy, and so, as I learn from my wife, it was in Carnarvonshire.↑9In a Cornish story mentioned inChoice Notes, p. 77, we have, instead of ointment, simply soap. See also Mrs. Bray’sBanks of the Tamar, pp. 174–7, where she alludes to H. Cornelius Agrippa’s statement how such ointment used to be made—the reference must, I think, be to his bookDe Occulta Philosophia Libri III(Paris, 1567), i. 45 (pp. 81–2).↑10See theMabinogion, pp. 1–2; Evans’Facsimile of the Black Book of Carmarthen, fol. 49b–50a; Rhys’Arthurian Legend, pp. 155–8; Edmund Jones’Spirits in the County of Monmouth, pp. 39, 71, 82; and in this volume, pp. 143, 203, above. I may mention that the Cornish also have had theirCwn Annwn, though the name is a different one, to wit in the phrase, ‘the Devil and his Dandy-dogs’: seeChoice Notes, pp. 78–80.↑11As it stands now this would be unmutatedCésel Gýfarch, ‘Cyfarch’s Nook,’ but there never was such a name. There was, however,ElgýfarchorAelgýfarchandRhygýfarch, and in such a combination asCésel Elgýfarchthere would be every temptation to drop one unaccentedel.↑12Owing to some oversight he has ‘a clean or a dirtycow’ instead ofcow-yardorcow-house, as I understand it.↑13Cwtamakescotain the feminine in North Cardiganshire; the word is nevertheless only the Englishcuttyborrowed.Du, ‘black,’ has corresponding to it in Irish,dubh. So the Welsh word seems to have passed through the stagesdyv,dyw, beforeywwas contracted intoû, which was formerly pronounced like Frenchû, as proved by the grammar already mentioned (p. 22) of J. D. Rhys, published in London in 1592; see p. 33, to which my attention has been called by Prof. J. Morris Jones. In Old or pre-Norman Welshmdid duty formandv, so one detectsdyvasdimin a woman’s namePenardim, ‘she of the very black head’; there was also aPenarwen, ‘she of the very blonde head.’ The look ofPenardimhaving baffled the redactor of theBranwen, he left the spelling unchanged: see the (Oxford)Mabinogion, p. 26. The same sort of change which producedduhas producedcnu, ‘a fleece,’ as compared withcneifio, ‘to fleece’;ỻuarth, ‘a kitchen garden,’ as compared with its Irish equivalentlubhghort. Compare alsoRhiwabon, locally pronouncedRhuabon, andRhiwaỻon, occurring sometimes asRhuaỻon. But the most notable rôle of this phonetic process is exemplified by the verbal nouns ending inu, such ascaru, ‘to love,’credu, ‘to believe,’tyngu, ‘to swear,’ in which theucorresponds to anmtermination in Old Irish, as insechem, ‘to follow,’cretem, ‘belief,’sessamorsessom, ‘to stand.’↑14In medieval Welsh poetry this name was still a dissyllable; but now it is pronouncedỺŷn, in conformity with the habit of the Gwyndodeg, which makes intoporfŷđwhat is writtenporfeyđ, ‘pastures,’ and pronouncedporféiđin North Cardiganshire. So in the Ỻeyn nameSarn Fyỻteyrnthe second vocable representsMaelteyrn, in theRecord of Carnarvon(p. 38)Mayltern̄: it is now soundedMyỻtyrnwith the secondyshort and accented.Ỻeynis a plural of the people (genitiveỺaëninPorth Dinỻaën), used as a singular of their country, likeCymru=Cymry, andPrydyn. The singular isỻain, ‘a spear,’ in theBook of Aneurin: see Skene, ii. 64, 88, 92.↑15It is also calleddolur byr, or the ‘short disease’; I believe I have been told that it is the disease known to ‘the vet.’ as anthrax.↑16Here the writer seems to have been puzzled by themhof Amheirchion, and to have argued back to a radical formParch; but he was on the wrong tack—Amheirchioncomes fromAp-Meirchion, where thephelped to make thema surd, which, with the syllabic accent on the succeeding vowel, became fixed asmh, while thepdisappeared by assimilation. We have, later on, a similar instance inOwen y Mhaxenfor Owen Amhacsen = O. ap Macsen. Another instance will be found at the opening of theMabinogiof Branwen, to wit, in the wordprynhawngweith, ‘once on an afternoon,’ fromprynhawn, ‘afternoon,’ for which our dictionaries substituteprydnawn, with the accent on the ultima, though D. ab Gwilym usedpyrnhawn, as in poem xl. 30. But the ordinary pronunciation continues to beprynháwnorpyrnháwn, sometimes reduced in Gwyneđ topnawn. Let me add an instance which has reached me since writing the above: In theArchæologia Cambrensisfor 1899, pp. 325–6, we have the pedigree of theAmeridithsfrom the Visitation of Devonshire in 1620: in the course of it one finds that Iuan ap Merydeth has a son ThomasAmerideth, who, knowing probably no Welsh, took to writing his patronymic more nearly as it was pronounced. The line is brought down to AmesAmerideth, who was created baronet in 1639.Ameridethof course = Ap Meredyđ, and the present member of the family who writes to theArchæologia Cambrensisspells his patronymic more correctly,Ameridith; but if it had survived in Wales it might have beenAmheredyđ. For an older instance than any of these see theBook of Taliessin, poem xlix (= Skene, ii. 204), where one reads ofBeli Amhanogan, ‘B. ab Mynogan.’↑17This is pronouncedRhiwan, though probably made up of Rhiw-wen, for it is the tendency of the Gwyndodeg to converteandaiof the unaccented ultima intoa, and so withein Glamorgan; see such instances asCornwanandcasag, p. 29 above. It is possibly a tendency inherited from Goidelic, as Irish is found to proceed in the same way.↑18I may mention that some of the Francises of Anglesey are supposed to be descendants of Frazers, who changed their name on finding refuge inthe island in the time of the troubles which brought there the ancestor of the Frazer who, from time to time, claims to be the rightful head of the Lovat family.↑19According to old Welsh orthography this would be writtenMoudin, and in the book Welsh of the present day it would have to becomeMeuđin. Restored, however, to the level of Gallo-Roman names, it would beMogodunumorMagodunum. The place is known as Casteỻ Moeđin, and includes within it the end of a hill about halfway between Ỻannarth and Lampeter.↑20For other mentions of the colours of fairy dress see pp. 44, 139 above, where red prevails, and contrast the Lake Lady of Ỻyn Barfog clad in green, p. 145.↑21This name means the Bridge of the Blessed Ford, but how the ford came to be so called I know not. The wordbendigaid, ‘blessed,’ comes from the Latin verbbenedico, ‘I bless,’ and should, but for the objection tonđin book Welsh, bebenđigaid, which, in fact, it is approximately in the northern part of the county, where it is colloquially sounded Pont RhydFynđiged,Fyđiged, or evenFđiged, also Pont Rhydm̥điged, which represents the result of the unmutated formBđigedcoming directly after thedofrhyd. Somewhat the same is the case with the name of the herbDail y Fendigaid, literally ‘the Leaves of the Blessed’ (in the feminine singular without any further indication of the noun to be supplied). This name means, I find, ‘hypericum androsæmum, tutsan,’ and in North Cardiganshire we call it Dail yFynđigedorFđiged, but in Carnarvonshire the adjective is made to qualifydail, so that it sounds DailByđigadorBđigad, ‘Blessed Leaves.’↑22I am far from certain whaty nos, ‘the night,’ may mean in such names as this andCraig y Nos, ‘the Rock of the Night’ (p. 254 above), to which perhaps might be added such an instance asBlaen Nos, ‘the Point of (the?) Night,’ in the neighbourhood of Ỻandovery, in Carmarthenshire. Can the allusion be merely to thickly overshadowed spots where the darkness of night might be said to lurk in defiance of the light of day? I have never visited the places in point, and leading questions addressed to local authorities are too apt to elicit misleading answers: the poetic faculty is dangerously rampant in the Principality.↑23Dâris a Glamorgan pronunciation,metri gratiâof what is writtendaear, ‘earth’: compared’ar-fochynin Glamorgan for a badger, literally ‘an earth pig.’ The dwarf’s answer was probably in some sort of verse, withdârandiârto rhyme.↑24Applied in Glamorgan to a child that looks poorly and does not grow.↑25In Cardiganshire a conjurer is calleddyn hysbys, wherehysbys(or, in older orthography,hyspys) means ‘informed’: it is the man who isinformedon matters which are dark to others; but the word is also used of facts—Y mae ’r peth yn hysbys, ‘the thing is known or manifest.’ The word is divisible intohy-spys, which would be in Irish, had it existed in the language,so-scesefor an earlysu-squesti̭a-s, the related Irish words beingad-chiu, ‘I see,’ pass. preteritead-chess, ‘was seen,’ and the like, in whichciandceshave been equated by Zimmer with the Sanskrit verbcaksh, ‘to see,’ from a rootquas. The adjectivecynnilapplied to thedyn hyspysin Glamorgan means now, as a rule, ‘economical’ or ‘thrifty,’ but in this instance it would seem to have signified ‘shrewd,’ ‘cunning,’ or ‘clever,’ though it would probably come nearer the original meaning of the word to render it by ‘smart,’ for it is in Irishconduail, which is found applied to ingenious work, such as the ornamentation on the hilt of a sword. Another term for a wizard or conjurer isgwr cyfarwyđ, with which the reader is already familiar. Herecyfarwyđforms a link with thekyvarỽydof theMabinogion, where it usually means a professional man, especially one skilled in story and history; and what constituted his knowledge was calledkyvarỽydyt, which included, among other things, acquaintance with boundaries and pedigrees, but it meant most frequently perhaps story; see the (Oxford)Mabinogion, pp. 5, 61, 72, 93. All these terms should, strictly speaking, havegwr—gwr hyspys,gwr cynnil, andgwr cyfarwyđ—but for the fact that modern Welsh tends to restrictgwrto signify ‘a husband’ or ‘a married man,’ whiledyn, which only signifies amortal, is made to mean man, and provided with a femininedynes, ‘woman,’ unknown to good Welsh literature. Thus the spoken language is in this matter nearly on a level with English and French, which have quite lost the word forvirandἀνήρ.↑26Rhyd y Glochmeans ‘the Ford of the Bell,’ in allusion, as the story goes, to a silver bell that used in former ages to be at Ỻanwonno Church. The people of Ỻanfabon took a liking to it, and one night a band of them stole it; but as they were carrying it across the Taff the moon happened to make her appearance suddenly, and they, in their fright, taking it to be sunrise, dropped the bell in the bed of the river, so that nothing has ever been heard of it since. But for ages afterwards, and even at the present day indeed, nothing could rouse the natives of Ỻanfabon to greater fury than to hear the moon spoken of ashaul Ỻanfabon, ‘the sun of Ỻanfabon.’↑27It was peat fires that were usual in those days even in Glamorgan.↑28See Hartland’sScience of Fairy Tales, pp. 112–6.↑29In no other version has Mr. Reynolds heardcwcwỻ wy iâr, but eitherplisgynorcibyn wy iâr, to which I may addmasgalfrom Mr. Craigfryn Hughes’ versions. The wordcwcwỻusually means a cowl, but perhaps it is best here to treatcwcwỻas a distinct word derived somehow fromconchyliumor the Frenchcoquille, ‘a shell.’↑30The whole passage will be found in theItinerarium Kambriæ, i. 8 (pp. 75–8), and Giraldus fixes the story a little before his time somewhere in the district around Swansea and Neath. With this agrees closely enough the fact that a second David,Dafyđ ab GeraỻdorDavid Fitzgerald, appears to have been consecrated Bishop of St. David’s in 1147, and to have died in 1176.↑31The words in the original are:Nec carne vescebantur, nec pisce; lacteis plerumque cibariis utentes, et in pultis modum quasi croco confectis.↑32Perhaps it is this also that suggested the nameEliodorus, as it wereἩλιόδωρος; for the original name was probably the medieval Welsh one ofElidyr= IrishAilithir,ailither, ‘a pilgrim’: compare the Pembrokeshire namePergrinand the like. It is curious thatElidyrdid not occur to Glasynys and prevent him from substitutingElfod, which is quite another name, and more correctly writtenElfođfor the earlierEl-fođw, found not only asElbodubut alsoElbodug-o,Elbodg,ElbotandElfod: see p. 117 above.↑33For one or two more instances from Wales see Howells, pp. 54–7. Brittany also is a great country for death portents: see A. Le Braz,Légende de la Mort en Basse-Bretagne(Paris, 1893), also Sébillot’sTraditions et Superstitions de la Haute-Bretagne(Paris, 1882), i. pp. 270–1. For Scotland seeThe Ghost Lights of the West Highlandsby Dr. R. C. Maclagan inFolk-Lorefor 1897, pp. 203–256, and for the cognate subject of second sight see Dalyell’sDarker Superstitions of Scotland, pp. 466–88.↑34Another word for thetoeliis given by Silvan Evans as used in certain parts of South Wales, namely,tolaethordolath, as to which hementions the opinion that it is a corruption oftylwyth, a view corroborated by Howells using, p. 31, the pluraltyloethod; but it could not be easily explained except as a corruption through the medium of English. Elias Owen, p. 303, uses the word in reference to the hammering and rapping noise attending the joinering of a phantom coffin for a man about to die, a sort of rehearsal well known throughout the Principality to every one who has ears spiritually tuned. Unfortunately I have not yet succeeded in locating the use of the wordtolaeth, except that I have been assured by a Carmarthen man that it is current in Welsh there astoleth, and by a native of Pumsant that it is in use from Abergwili up to Ỻanbumsant.↑35See, for instance, pp. 200, 221, 228.↑36Mrs. Williams-Ellis of Glasfryn writes to me that the place is now called Bwlch Trwyn Swncwl, that it is a gap on the highest part of the road crossing from Ỻanaelhaearn to Pistyỻ, and that it is quite a little mountain pass between bleak heather-covered hillsides, in fact a very lonely spot in the outskirts of the Eifl, and with Carnguwch blocking the horizon in the direction of Cardigan Bay.↑37For this I am indebted to Mr. Gwenogvryn Evans’Report on MSS. in the Welsh Language, i. 585 k. The words were written by Williams about the beginning of the seventeenth century, and hisûdoes not meanw. He was, however, probably thinking ofcawr,cewri, and such instances astawaf, ‘taceo,’ andtau, ‘tacet.’ At all events there is no trace ofuin the local pronunciation of the nameTre’r Ceiri. I have heard it also asTre’ Ceiriwithout the definite article; but had this been ancient one would expect it softened intoTre’ Geiri.↑38See the OxfordMabinogion, pp. 110, 113, and 27–9, 36–41, 44, also 309, where a Triad explains that the outposts were Anglesey, Man, and Lundy.But the other Triads, i. 3 = iii. 67, make them Orkney, Man, and Wight, for which we have the older authority of Nennius. § 8. The designationTair Ynys Brydain, ‘The Three Isles of Prydain,’ was known to the fourteenth-century poet, Iolo Goch: see his works edited by Ashton, p. 669.↑39ForPrydynin the plural see Skene’sFour Ancient Books of Wales, ii. 209, also 92, wherePrydenis the form used. In modern Welsh the two senses ofCymryare distinguished in writing asCymryandCymru, but the difference is merely one of spelling and not very ancient.↑40So Geoffrey (i. 12–15) brings his Trojans on their way to Britain into Aquitania, where they fight with thePictavienses, whose king he calls GoffariusPictus.↑41Cadarnandcadrpostulate respectively some such early forms ascatṛno-sandcadro-s, which according to analogy should becomecadarnandcađr. Welsh, however, is not fond ofđr; so here begins a bifurcation: (1) retaining thedunchangedcadro-syieldscadr, or (2)dris made intođr, and other changes set in resulting in theceirofceiri, as in Welshaneirif, ‘numberless,’ fromeirif, ‘number,’ of the same origin as Irisháramfrom *ađ-rim= *ad-rīmā, and Welsheiliw, ‘species, colour,’ forađ-liw, in both of whichifollowsđcombinations; but that is not essential, as shown bycader,cadair, for Old Welshcateir, ‘a chair,’ from Latincat[h]edra. The word that serves as our singular, namelycawr, is far harder to explain; but on the whole I am inclined to regard it as of a different origin, to wit, the Goidelic wordcaur, ‘a giant or hero,’ borrowed. The pluralcewriorcawriis formed from the singularcawr, which means a giant, though, associated in the plural withceiri, it has sometimes to follow suit with that vocable in connoting dress.↑42The most important of these are the old Bretonkazr, nowkaer, ‘beautiful or pretty,’ and old Cornishcaerof the same meaning; elsewhere we have, as in Greek, the Doricκέκαδμαιandκεκαδμένος, to be found used in reference to excelling or distinguishing one’s self; alsoκόσμος, ‘good order, ornament,’ while in Sanskrit there is the themeçad, ‘to excel or surpass.’ The old meaning of ‘beautiful,’ ‘decorated,’ or ‘loudly dressed,’ is not yet lost in the case ofceiri.↑
1This chapter, except where a later date is suggested, may be regarded as written in the summer of 1883.↑2Trefriwmeans the town of the slope or hillside, and stands forTref y Riw, nottref y Rhiw, which would have yieldedTreffriw, for there is a tendency in Gwyneđ to make the mutation after the definite article conform to the general rule, and to sayy law, ‘the hand,’ andy raw, ‘the spade,’ instead of what would be in booksy ỻawandy rhawfromyr ỻawandyr rhaw.↑3Why the writer spells the name Criccieth in this way I cannot tell, except that he was more or less under the influence of the more intelligible spellingCrugcaith, as where Lewis Glyn Cothi. I. xxiv, sangRhys ab Sion â’r hysbys iaith,Gwr yw acw o Grugcaith.This spelling postulates the interpretationCrug-Caith, earlierCrug y Ceith, ‘the mound or barrow of the captives,’ in reference to some forgotten interment; but when the accent receded to the first syllable the second was slurred almost out of recognition, so thatCrug-ceith, orCruc-ceith, becameCrúceth, whenceCrúci̭ethandCrici̭eth. TheBrutshaveCrugyeiththe only time it occurs, and theRecord of Carnarvon(several times)Krukyth.↑4Out of excessive fondness for our Arthur English people translate this name into Arthur’s Seat instead of Idris’ Seat; but Idris was also somebody: he was a giant with a liking for the study of the stars. But let that be: I wish to say a word concerning his name: Idris may be explained as meaning ‘War-champion,’ or the like; and, phonologically speaking, it comes fromIuđ-rys, which was made successively intoId-rys,Idris. The syllablei̭uđmeant battle or fight, and it undergoes a variety of forms in Welsh names. Thus beforen,r,l, andw, it becomesid, as inIdnerth,Idloes, andIdwal, whileIuđ-haelyieldsIthel, whence Ab Ithel, anglicizedBethel. At the end, however, it isyđoruđ, as inGruffuđorGruffyđ, from Old WelshGrippi̭uđ, andMareduđorMeredyđfor an olderMarget-i̭uđ. By itself it is possibly the word which the poets writeuđ, and understand to meanlord; but if these forms are related, it must have originally meant rather a fighter, soldier, or champion.↑5There is a special similarity between this and an Anglesey story given by Howells, p. 138: it consists in the sequence of seeing the fairies dance and finding money left by them. Why was the money left?↑6It was so called by the poet D. ab Gwilym, cxcii. 12, when he sang:I odi ac i luchioOđiar lechweđ Moel Eilio.To bring snow and drifting flakesFrom off Moel Eilio’s slope.↑7This is commonly pronounced ‘Y Gath Dorwen,’ but the people of the neighbourhood wish to explain away a farm name which could, strangely enough, only mean ‘the white-bellied cat’; buty Garth Dorwen, ‘the white-belliedgarthor hill,’ is not a very likely name either.↑8The hiring time in Wales is the beginning of winter and of summer; or, as one would say in Welsh, at the Calends of Winter and the Calends ofMay respectively. In North Cardiganshire the great hiring fair was held at the former date when I was a boy, and so, as I learn from my wife, it was in Carnarvonshire.↑9In a Cornish story mentioned inChoice Notes, p. 77, we have, instead of ointment, simply soap. See also Mrs. Bray’sBanks of the Tamar, pp. 174–7, where she alludes to H. Cornelius Agrippa’s statement how such ointment used to be made—the reference must, I think, be to his bookDe Occulta Philosophia Libri III(Paris, 1567), i. 45 (pp. 81–2).↑10See theMabinogion, pp. 1–2; Evans’Facsimile of the Black Book of Carmarthen, fol. 49b–50a; Rhys’Arthurian Legend, pp. 155–8; Edmund Jones’Spirits in the County of Monmouth, pp. 39, 71, 82; and in this volume, pp. 143, 203, above. I may mention that the Cornish also have had theirCwn Annwn, though the name is a different one, to wit in the phrase, ‘the Devil and his Dandy-dogs’: seeChoice Notes, pp. 78–80.↑11As it stands now this would be unmutatedCésel Gýfarch, ‘Cyfarch’s Nook,’ but there never was such a name. There was, however,ElgýfarchorAelgýfarchandRhygýfarch, and in such a combination asCésel Elgýfarchthere would be every temptation to drop one unaccentedel.↑12Owing to some oversight he has ‘a clean or a dirtycow’ instead ofcow-yardorcow-house, as I understand it.↑13Cwtamakescotain the feminine in North Cardiganshire; the word is nevertheless only the Englishcuttyborrowed.Du, ‘black,’ has corresponding to it in Irish,dubh. So the Welsh word seems to have passed through the stagesdyv,dyw, beforeywwas contracted intoû, which was formerly pronounced like Frenchû, as proved by the grammar already mentioned (p. 22) of J. D. Rhys, published in London in 1592; see p. 33, to which my attention has been called by Prof. J. Morris Jones. In Old or pre-Norman Welshmdid duty formandv, so one detectsdyvasdimin a woman’s namePenardim, ‘she of the very black head’; there was also aPenarwen, ‘she of the very blonde head.’ The look ofPenardimhaving baffled the redactor of theBranwen, he left the spelling unchanged: see the (Oxford)Mabinogion, p. 26. The same sort of change which producedduhas producedcnu, ‘a fleece,’ as compared withcneifio, ‘to fleece’;ỻuarth, ‘a kitchen garden,’ as compared with its Irish equivalentlubhghort. Compare alsoRhiwabon, locally pronouncedRhuabon, andRhiwaỻon, occurring sometimes asRhuaỻon. But the most notable rôle of this phonetic process is exemplified by the verbal nouns ending inu, such ascaru, ‘to love,’credu, ‘to believe,’tyngu, ‘to swear,’ in which theucorresponds to anmtermination in Old Irish, as insechem, ‘to follow,’cretem, ‘belief,’sessamorsessom, ‘to stand.’↑14In medieval Welsh poetry this name was still a dissyllable; but now it is pronouncedỺŷn, in conformity with the habit of the Gwyndodeg, which makes intoporfŷđwhat is writtenporfeyđ, ‘pastures,’ and pronouncedporféiđin North Cardiganshire. So in the Ỻeyn nameSarn Fyỻteyrnthe second vocable representsMaelteyrn, in theRecord of Carnarvon(p. 38)Mayltern̄: it is now soundedMyỻtyrnwith the secondyshort and accented.Ỻeynis a plural of the people (genitiveỺaëninPorth Dinỻaën), used as a singular of their country, likeCymru=Cymry, andPrydyn. The singular isỻain, ‘a spear,’ in theBook of Aneurin: see Skene, ii. 64, 88, 92.↑15It is also calleddolur byr, or the ‘short disease’; I believe I have been told that it is the disease known to ‘the vet.’ as anthrax.↑16Here the writer seems to have been puzzled by themhof Amheirchion, and to have argued back to a radical formParch; but he was on the wrong tack—Amheirchioncomes fromAp-Meirchion, where thephelped to make thema surd, which, with the syllabic accent on the succeeding vowel, became fixed asmh, while thepdisappeared by assimilation. We have, later on, a similar instance inOwen y Mhaxenfor Owen Amhacsen = O. ap Macsen. Another instance will be found at the opening of theMabinogiof Branwen, to wit, in the wordprynhawngweith, ‘once on an afternoon,’ fromprynhawn, ‘afternoon,’ for which our dictionaries substituteprydnawn, with the accent on the ultima, though D. ab Gwilym usedpyrnhawn, as in poem xl. 30. But the ordinary pronunciation continues to beprynháwnorpyrnháwn, sometimes reduced in Gwyneđ topnawn. Let me add an instance which has reached me since writing the above: In theArchæologia Cambrensisfor 1899, pp. 325–6, we have the pedigree of theAmeridithsfrom the Visitation of Devonshire in 1620: in the course of it one finds that Iuan ap Merydeth has a son ThomasAmerideth, who, knowing probably no Welsh, took to writing his patronymic more nearly as it was pronounced. The line is brought down to AmesAmerideth, who was created baronet in 1639.Ameridethof course = Ap Meredyđ, and the present member of the family who writes to theArchæologia Cambrensisspells his patronymic more correctly,Ameridith; but if it had survived in Wales it might have beenAmheredyđ. For an older instance than any of these see theBook of Taliessin, poem xlix (= Skene, ii. 204), where one reads ofBeli Amhanogan, ‘B. ab Mynogan.’↑17This is pronouncedRhiwan, though probably made up of Rhiw-wen, for it is the tendency of the Gwyndodeg to converteandaiof the unaccented ultima intoa, and so withein Glamorgan; see such instances asCornwanandcasag, p. 29 above. It is possibly a tendency inherited from Goidelic, as Irish is found to proceed in the same way.↑18I may mention that some of the Francises of Anglesey are supposed to be descendants of Frazers, who changed their name on finding refuge inthe island in the time of the troubles which brought there the ancestor of the Frazer who, from time to time, claims to be the rightful head of the Lovat family.↑19According to old Welsh orthography this would be writtenMoudin, and in the book Welsh of the present day it would have to becomeMeuđin. Restored, however, to the level of Gallo-Roman names, it would beMogodunumorMagodunum. The place is known as Casteỻ Moeđin, and includes within it the end of a hill about halfway between Ỻannarth and Lampeter.↑20For other mentions of the colours of fairy dress see pp. 44, 139 above, where red prevails, and contrast the Lake Lady of Ỻyn Barfog clad in green, p. 145.↑21This name means the Bridge of the Blessed Ford, but how the ford came to be so called I know not. The wordbendigaid, ‘blessed,’ comes from the Latin verbbenedico, ‘I bless,’ and should, but for the objection tonđin book Welsh, bebenđigaid, which, in fact, it is approximately in the northern part of the county, where it is colloquially sounded Pont RhydFynđiged,Fyđiged, or evenFđiged, also Pont Rhydm̥điged, which represents the result of the unmutated formBđigedcoming directly after thedofrhyd. Somewhat the same is the case with the name of the herbDail y Fendigaid, literally ‘the Leaves of the Blessed’ (in the feminine singular without any further indication of the noun to be supplied). This name means, I find, ‘hypericum androsæmum, tutsan,’ and in North Cardiganshire we call it Dail yFynđigedorFđiged, but in Carnarvonshire the adjective is made to qualifydail, so that it sounds DailByđigadorBđigad, ‘Blessed Leaves.’↑22I am far from certain whaty nos, ‘the night,’ may mean in such names as this andCraig y Nos, ‘the Rock of the Night’ (p. 254 above), to which perhaps might be added such an instance asBlaen Nos, ‘the Point of (the?) Night,’ in the neighbourhood of Ỻandovery, in Carmarthenshire. Can the allusion be merely to thickly overshadowed spots where the darkness of night might be said to lurk in defiance of the light of day? I have never visited the places in point, and leading questions addressed to local authorities are too apt to elicit misleading answers: the poetic faculty is dangerously rampant in the Principality.↑23Dâris a Glamorgan pronunciation,metri gratiâof what is writtendaear, ‘earth’: compared’ar-fochynin Glamorgan for a badger, literally ‘an earth pig.’ The dwarf’s answer was probably in some sort of verse, withdârandiârto rhyme.↑24Applied in Glamorgan to a child that looks poorly and does not grow.↑25In Cardiganshire a conjurer is calleddyn hysbys, wherehysbys(or, in older orthography,hyspys) means ‘informed’: it is the man who isinformedon matters which are dark to others; but the word is also used of facts—Y mae ’r peth yn hysbys, ‘the thing is known or manifest.’ The word is divisible intohy-spys, which would be in Irish, had it existed in the language,so-scesefor an earlysu-squesti̭a-s, the related Irish words beingad-chiu, ‘I see,’ pass. preteritead-chess, ‘was seen,’ and the like, in whichciandceshave been equated by Zimmer with the Sanskrit verbcaksh, ‘to see,’ from a rootquas. The adjectivecynnilapplied to thedyn hyspysin Glamorgan means now, as a rule, ‘economical’ or ‘thrifty,’ but in this instance it would seem to have signified ‘shrewd,’ ‘cunning,’ or ‘clever,’ though it would probably come nearer the original meaning of the word to render it by ‘smart,’ for it is in Irishconduail, which is found applied to ingenious work, such as the ornamentation on the hilt of a sword. Another term for a wizard or conjurer isgwr cyfarwyđ, with which the reader is already familiar. Herecyfarwyđforms a link with thekyvarỽydof theMabinogion, where it usually means a professional man, especially one skilled in story and history; and what constituted his knowledge was calledkyvarỽydyt, which included, among other things, acquaintance with boundaries and pedigrees, but it meant most frequently perhaps story; see the (Oxford)Mabinogion, pp. 5, 61, 72, 93. All these terms should, strictly speaking, havegwr—gwr hyspys,gwr cynnil, andgwr cyfarwyđ—but for the fact that modern Welsh tends to restrictgwrto signify ‘a husband’ or ‘a married man,’ whiledyn, which only signifies amortal, is made to mean man, and provided with a femininedynes, ‘woman,’ unknown to good Welsh literature. Thus the spoken language is in this matter nearly on a level with English and French, which have quite lost the word forvirandἀνήρ.↑26Rhyd y Glochmeans ‘the Ford of the Bell,’ in allusion, as the story goes, to a silver bell that used in former ages to be at Ỻanwonno Church. The people of Ỻanfabon took a liking to it, and one night a band of them stole it; but as they were carrying it across the Taff the moon happened to make her appearance suddenly, and they, in their fright, taking it to be sunrise, dropped the bell in the bed of the river, so that nothing has ever been heard of it since. But for ages afterwards, and even at the present day indeed, nothing could rouse the natives of Ỻanfabon to greater fury than to hear the moon spoken of ashaul Ỻanfabon, ‘the sun of Ỻanfabon.’↑27It was peat fires that were usual in those days even in Glamorgan.↑28See Hartland’sScience of Fairy Tales, pp. 112–6.↑29In no other version has Mr. Reynolds heardcwcwỻ wy iâr, but eitherplisgynorcibyn wy iâr, to which I may addmasgalfrom Mr. Craigfryn Hughes’ versions. The wordcwcwỻusually means a cowl, but perhaps it is best here to treatcwcwỻas a distinct word derived somehow fromconchyliumor the Frenchcoquille, ‘a shell.’↑30The whole passage will be found in theItinerarium Kambriæ, i. 8 (pp. 75–8), and Giraldus fixes the story a little before his time somewhere in the district around Swansea and Neath. With this agrees closely enough the fact that a second David,Dafyđ ab GeraỻdorDavid Fitzgerald, appears to have been consecrated Bishop of St. David’s in 1147, and to have died in 1176.↑31The words in the original are:Nec carne vescebantur, nec pisce; lacteis plerumque cibariis utentes, et in pultis modum quasi croco confectis.↑32Perhaps it is this also that suggested the nameEliodorus, as it wereἩλιόδωρος; for the original name was probably the medieval Welsh one ofElidyr= IrishAilithir,ailither, ‘a pilgrim’: compare the Pembrokeshire namePergrinand the like. It is curious thatElidyrdid not occur to Glasynys and prevent him from substitutingElfod, which is quite another name, and more correctly writtenElfođfor the earlierEl-fođw, found not only asElbodubut alsoElbodug-o,Elbodg,ElbotandElfod: see p. 117 above.↑33For one or two more instances from Wales see Howells, pp. 54–7. Brittany also is a great country for death portents: see A. Le Braz,Légende de la Mort en Basse-Bretagne(Paris, 1893), also Sébillot’sTraditions et Superstitions de la Haute-Bretagne(Paris, 1882), i. pp. 270–1. For Scotland seeThe Ghost Lights of the West Highlandsby Dr. R. C. Maclagan inFolk-Lorefor 1897, pp. 203–256, and for the cognate subject of second sight see Dalyell’sDarker Superstitions of Scotland, pp. 466–88.↑34Another word for thetoeliis given by Silvan Evans as used in certain parts of South Wales, namely,tolaethordolath, as to which hementions the opinion that it is a corruption oftylwyth, a view corroborated by Howells using, p. 31, the pluraltyloethod; but it could not be easily explained except as a corruption through the medium of English. Elias Owen, p. 303, uses the word in reference to the hammering and rapping noise attending the joinering of a phantom coffin for a man about to die, a sort of rehearsal well known throughout the Principality to every one who has ears spiritually tuned. Unfortunately I have not yet succeeded in locating the use of the wordtolaeth, except that I have been assured by a Carmarthen man that it is current in Welsh there astoleth, and by a native of Pumsant that it is in use from Abergwili up to Ỻanbumsant.↑35See, for instance, pp. 200, 221, 228.↑36Mrs. Williams-Ellis of Glasfryn writes to me that the place is now called Bwlch Trwyn Swncwl, that it is a gap on the highest part of the road crossing from Ỻanaelhaearn to Pistyỻ, and that it is quite a little mountain pass between bleak heather-covered hillsides, in fact a very lonely spot in the outskirts of the Eifl, and with Carnguwch blocking the horizon in the direction of Cardigan Bay.↑37For this I am indebted to Mr. Gwenogvryn Evans’Report on MSS. in the Welsh Language, i. 585 k. The words were written by Williams about the beginning of the seventeenth century, and hisûdoes not meanw. He was, however, probably thinking ofcawr,cewri, and such instances astawaf, ‘taceo,’ andtau, ‘tacet.’ At all events there is no trace ofuin the local pronunciation of the nameTre’r Ceiri. I have heard it also asTre’ Ceiriwithout the definite article; but had this been ancient one would expect it softened intoTre’ Geiri.↑38See the OxfordMabinogion, pp. 110, 113, and 27–9, 36–41, 44, also 309, where a Triad explains that the outposts were Anglesey, Man, and Lundy.But the other Triads, i. 3 = iii. 67, make them Orkney, Man, and Wight, for which we have the older authority of Nennius. § 8. The designationTair Ynys Brydain, ‘The Three Isles of Prydain,’ was known to the fourteenth-century poet, Iolo Goch: see his works edited by Ashton, p. 669.↑39ForPrydynin the plural see Skene’sFour Ancient Books of Wales, ii. 209, also 92, wherePrydenis the form used. In modern Welsh the two senses ofCymryare distinguished in writing asCymryandCymru, but the difference is merely one of spelling and not very ancient.↑40So Geoffrey (i. 12–15) brings his Trojans on their way to Britain into Aquitania, where they fight with thePictavienses, whose king he calls GoffariusPictus.↑41Cadarnandcadrpostulate respectively some such early forms ascatṛno-sandcadro-s, which according to analogy should becomecadarnandcađr. Welsh, however, is not fond ofđr; so here begins a bifurcation: (1) retaining thedunchangedcadro-syieldscadr, or (2)dris made intođr, and other changes set in resulting in theceirofceiri, as in Welshaneirif, ‘numberless,’ fromeirif, ‘number,’ of the same origin as Irisháramfrom *ađ-rim= *ad-rīmā, and Welsheiliw, ‘species, colour,’ forađ-liw, in both of whichifollowsđcombinations; but that is not essential, as shown bycader,cadair, for Old Welshcateir, ‘a chair,’ from Latincat[h]edra. The word that serves as our singular, namelycawr, is far harder to explain; but on the whole I am inclined to regard it as of a different origin, to wit, the Goidelic wordcaur, ‘a giant or hero,’ borrowed. The pluralcewriorcawriis formed from the singularcawr, which means a giant, though, associated in the plural withceiri, it has sometimes to follow suit with that vocable in connoting dress.↑42The most important of these are the old Bretonkazr, nowkaer, ‘beautiful or pretty,’ and old Cornishcaerof the same meaning; elsewhere we have, as in Greek, the Doricκέκαδμαιandκεκαδμένος, to be found used in reference to excelling or distinguishing one’s self; alsoκόσμος, ‘good order, ornament,’ while in Sanskrit there is the themeçad, ‘to excel or surpass.’ The old meaning of ‘beautiful,’ ‘decorated,’ or ‘loudly dressed,’ is not yet lost in the case ofceiri.↑
1This chapter, except where a later date is suggested, may be regarded as written in the summer of 1883.↑2Trefriwmeans the town of the slope or hillside, and stands forTref y Riw, nottref y Rhiw, which would have yieldedTreffriw, for there is a tendency in Gwyneđ to make the mutation after the definite article conform to the general rule, and to sayy law, ‘the hand,’ andy raw, ‘the spade,’ instead of what would be in booksy ỻawandy rhawfromyr ỻawandyr rhaw.↑3Why the writer spells the name Criccieth in this way I cannot tell, except that he was more or less under the influence of the more intelligible spellingCrugcaith, as where Lewis Glyn Cothi. I. xxiv, sangRhys ab Sion â’r hysbys iaith,Gwr yw acw o Grugcaith.This spelling postulates the interpretationCrug-Caith, earlierCrug y Ceith, ‘the mound or barrow of the captives,’ in reference to some forgotten interment; but when the accent receded to the first syllable the second was slurred almost out of recognition, so thatCrug-ceith, orCruc-ceith, becameCrúceth, whenceCrúci̭ethandCrici̭eth. TheBrutshaveCrugyeiththe only time it occurs, and theRecord of Carnarvon(several times)Krukyth.↑4Out of excessive fondness for our Arthur English people translate this name into Arthur’s Seat instead of Idris’ Seat; but Idris was also somebody: he was a giant with a liking for the study of the stars. But let that be: I wish to say a word concerning his name: Idris may be explained as meaning ‘War-champion,’ or the like; and, phonologically speaking, it comes fromIuđ-rys, which was made successively intoId-rys,Idris. The syllablei̭uđmeant battle or fight, and it undergoes a variety of forms in Welsh names. Thus beforen,r,l, andw, it becomesid, as inIdnerth,Idloes, andIdwal, whileIuđ-haelyieldsIthel, whence Ab Ithel, anglicizedBethel. At the end, however, it isyđoruđ, as inGruffuđorGruffyđ, from Old WelshGrippi̭uđ, andMareduđorMeredyđfor an olderMarget-i̭uđ. By itself it is possibly the word which the poets writeuđ, and understand to meanlord; but if these forms are related, it must have originally meant rather a fighter, soldier, or champion.↑5There is a special similarity between this and an Anglesey story given by Howells, p. 138: it consists in the sequence of seeing the fairies dance and finding money left by them. Why was the money left?↑6It was so called by the poet D. ab Gwilym, cxcii. 12, when he sang:I odi ac i luchioOđiar lechweđ Moel Eilio.To bring snow and drifting flakesFrom off Moel Eilio’s slope.↑7This is commonly pronounced ‘Y Gath Dorwen,’ but the people of the neighbourhood wish to explain away a farm name which could, strangely enough, only mean ‘the white-bellied cat’; buty Garth Dorwen, ‘the white-belliedgarthor hill,’ is not a very likely name either.↑8The hiring time in Wales is the beginning of winter and of summer; or, as one would say in Welsh, at the Calends of Winter and the Calends ofMay respectively. In North Cardiganshire the great hiring fair was held at the former date when I was a boy, and so, as I learn from my wife, it was in Carnarvonshire.↑9In a Cornish story mentioned inChoice Notes, p. 77, we have, instead of ointment, simply soap. See also Mrs. Bray’sBanks of the Tamar, pp. 174–7, where she alludes to H. Cornelius Agrippa’s statement how such ointment used to be made—the reference must, I think, be to his bookDe Occulta Philosophia Libri III(Paris, 1567), i. 45 (pp. 81–2).↑10See theMabinogion, pp. 1–2; Evans’Facsimile of the Black Book of Carmarthen, fol. 49b–50a; Rhys’Arthurian Legend, pp. 155–8; Edmund Jones’Spirits in the County of Monmouth, pp. 39, 71, 82; and in this volume, pp. 143, 203, above. I may mention that the Cornish also have had theirCwn Annwn, though the name is a different one, to wit in the phrase, ‘the Devil and his Dandy-dogs’: seeChoice Notes, pp. 78–80.↑11As it stands now this would be unmutatedCésel Gýfarch, ‘Cyfarch’s Nook,’ but there never was such a name. There was, however,ElgýfarchorAelgýfarchandRhygýfarch, and in such a combination asCésel Elgýfarchthere would be every temptation to drop one unaccentedel.↑12Owing to some oversight he has ‘a clean or a dirtycow’ instead ofcow-yardorcow-house, as I understand it.↑13Cwtamakescotain the feminine in North Cardiganshire; the word is nevertheless only the Englishcuttyborrowed.Du, ‘black,’ has corresponding to it in Irish,dubh. So the Welsh word seems to have passed through the stagesdyv,dyw, beforeywwas contracted intoû, which was formerly pronounced like Frenchû, as proved by the grammar already mentioned (p. 22) of J. D. Rhys, published in London in 1592; see p. 33, to which my attention has been called by Prof. J. Morris Jones. In Old or pre-Norman Welshmdid duty formandv, so one detectsdyvasdimin a woman’s namePenardim, ‘she of the very black head’; there was also aPenarwen, ‘she of the very blonde head.’ The look ofPenardimhaving baffled the redactor of theBranwen, he left the spelling unchanged: see the (Oxford)Mabinogion, p. 26. The same sort of change which producedduhas producedcnu, ‘a fleece,’ as compared withcneifio, ‘to fleece’;ỻuarth, ‘a kitchen garden,’ as compared with its Irish equivalentlubhghort. Compare alsoRhiwabon, locally pronouncedRhuabon, andRhiwaỻon, occurring sometimes asRhuaỻon. But the most notable rôle of this phonetic process is exemplified by the verbal nouns ending inu, such ascaru, ‘to love,’credu, ‘to believe,’tyngu, ‘to swear,’ in which theucorresponds to anmtermination in Old Irish, as insechem, ‘to follow,’cretem, ‘belief,’sessamorsessom, ‘to stand.’↑14In medieval Welsh poetry this name was still a dissyllable; but now it is pronouncedỺŷn, in conformity with the habit of the Gwyndodeg, which makes intoporfŷđwhat is writtenporfeyđ, ‘pastures,’ and pronouncedporféiđin North Cardiganshire. So in the Ỻeyn nameSarn Fyỻteyrnthe second vocable representsMaelteyrn, in theRecord of Carnarvon(p. 38)Mayltern̄: it is now soundedMyỻtyrnwith the secondyshort and accented.Ỻeynis a plural of the people (genitiveỺaëninPorth Dinỻaën), used as a singular of their country, likeCymru=Cymry, andPrydyn. The singular isỻain, ‘a spear,’ in theBook of Aneurin: see Skene, ii. 64, 88, 92.↑15It is also calleddolur byr, or the ‘short disease’; I believe I have been told that it is the disease known to ‘the vet.’ as anthrax.↑16Here the writer seems to have been puzzled by themhof Amheirchion, and to have argued back to a radical formParch; but he was on the wrong tack—Amheirchioncomes fromAp-Meirchion, where thephelped to make thema surd, which, with the syllabic accent on the succeeding vowel, became fixed asmh, while thepdisappeared by assimilation. We have, later on, a similar instance inOwen y Mhaxenfor Owen Amhacsen = O. ap Macsen. Another instance will be found at the opening of theMabinogiof Branwen, to wit, in the wordprynhawngweith, ‘once on an afternoon,’ fromprynhawn, ‘afternoon,’ for which our dictionaries substituteprydnawn, with the accent on the ultima, though D. ab Gwilym usedpyrnhawn, as in poem xl. 30. But the ordinary pronunciation continues to beprynháwnorpyrnháwn, sometimes reduced in Gwyneđ topnawn. Let me add an instance which has reached me since writing the above: In theArchæologia Cambrensisfor 1899, pp. 325–6, we have the pedigree of theAmeridithsfrom the Visitation of Devonshire in 1620: in the course of it one finds that Iuan ap Merydeth has a son ThomasAmerideth, who, knowing probably no Welsh, took to writing his patronymic more nearly as it was pronounced. The line is brought down to AmesAmerideth, who was created baronet in 1639.Ameridethof course = Ap Meredyđ, and the present member of the family who writes to theArchæologia Cambrensisspells his patronymic more correctly,Ameridith; but if it had survived in Wales it might have beenAmheredyđ. For an older instance than any of these see theBook of Taliessin, poem xlix (= Skene, ii. 204), where one reads ofBeli Amhanogan, ‘B. ab Mynogan.’↑17This is pronouncedRhiwan, though probably made up of Rhiw-wen, for it is the tendency of the Gwyndodeg to converteandaiof the unaccented ultima intoa, and so withein Glamorgan; see such instances asCornwanandcasag, p. 29 above. It is possibly a tendency inherited from Goidelic, as Irish is found to proceed in the same way.↑18I may mention that some of the Francises of Anglesey are supposed to be descendants of Frazers, who changed their name on finding refuge inthe island in the time of the troubles which brought there the ancestor of the Frazer who, from time to time, claims to be the rightful head of the Lovat family.↑19According to old Welsh orthography this would be writtenMoudin, and in the book Welsh of the present day it would have to becomeMeuđin. Restored, however, to the level of Gallo-Roman names, it would beMogodunumorMagodunum. The place is known as Casteỻ Moeđin, and includes within it the end of a hill about halfway between Ỻannarth and Lampeter.↑20For other mentions of the colours of fairy dress see pp. 44, 139 above, where red prevails, and contrast the Lake Lady of Ỻyn Barfog clad in green, p. 145.↑21This name means the Bridge of the Blessed Ford, but how the ford came to be so called I know not. The wordbendigaid, ‘blessed,’ comes from the Latin verbbenedico, ‘I bless,’ and should, but for the objection tonđin book Welsh, bebenđigaid, which, in fact, it is approximately in the northern part of the county, where it is colloquially sounded Pont RhydFynđiged,Fyđiged, or evenFđiged, also Pont Rhydm̥điged, which represents the result of the unmutated formBđigedcoming directly after thedofrhyd. Somewhat the same is the case with the name of the herbDail y Fendigaid, literally ‘the Leaves of the Blessed’ (in the feminine singular without any further indication of the noun to be supplied). This name means, I find, ‘hypericum androsæmum, tutsan,’ and in North Cardiganshire we call it Dail yFynđigedorFđiged, but in Carnarvonshire the adjective is made to qualifydail, so that it sounds DailByđigadorBđigad, ‘Blessed Leaves.’↑22I am far from certain whaty nos, ‘the night,’ may mean in such names as this andCraig y Nos, ‘the Rock of the Night’ (p. 254 above), to which perhaps might be added such an instance asBlaen Nos, ‘the Point of (the?) Night,’ in the neighbourhood of Ỻandovery, in Carmarthenshire. Can the allusion be merely to thickly overshadowed spots where the darkness of night might be said to lurk in defiance of the light of day? I have never visited the places in point, and leading questions addressed to local authorities are too apt to elicit misleading answers: the poetic faculty is dangerously rampant in the Principality.↑23Dâris a Glamorgan pronunciation,metri gratiâof what is writtendaear, ‘earth’: compared’ar-fochynin Glamorgan for a badger, literally ‘an earth pig.’ The dwarf’s answer was probably in some sort of verse, withdârandiârto rhyme.↑24Applied in Glamorgan to a child that looks poorly and does not grow.↑25In Cardiganshire a conjurer is calleddyn hysbys, wherehysbys(or, in older orthography,hyspys) means ‘informed’: it is the man who isinformedon matters which are dark to others; but the word is also used of facts—Y mae ’r peth yn hysbys, ‘the thing is known or manifest.’ The word is divisible intohy-spys, which would be in Irish, had it existed in the language,so-scesefor an earlysu-squesti̭a-s, the related Irish words beingad-chiu, ‘I see,’ pass. preteritead-chess, ‘was seen,’ and the like, in whichciandceshave been equated by Zimmer with the Sanskrit verbcaksh, ‘to see,’ from a rootquas. The adjectivecynnilapplied to thedyn hyspysin Glamorgan means now, as a rule, ‘economical’ or ‘thrifty,’ but in this instance it would seem to have signified ‘shrewd,’ ‘cunning,’ or ‘clever,’ though it would probably come nearer the original meaning of the word to render it by ‘smart,’ for it is in Irishconduail, which is found applied to ingenious work, such as the ornamentation on the hilt of a sword. Another term for a wizard or conjurer isgwr cyfarwyđ, with which the reader is already familiar. Herecyfarwyđforms a link with thekyvarỽydof theMabinogion, where it usually means a professional man, especially one skilled in story and history; and what constituted his knowledge was calledkyvarỽydyt, which included, among other things, acquaintance with boundaries and pedigrees, but it meant most frequently perhaps story; see the (Oxford)Mabinogion, pp. 5, 61, 72, 93. All these terms should, strictly speaking, havegwr—gwr hyspys,gwr cynnil, andgwr cyfarwyđ—but for the fact that modern Welsh tends to restrictgwrto signify ‘a husband’ or ‘a married man,’ whiledyn, which only signifies amortal, is made to mean man, and provided with a femininedynes, ‘woman,’ unknown to good Welsh literature. Thus the spoken language is in this matter nearly on a level with English and French, which have quite lost the word forvirandἀνήρ.↑26Rhyd y Glochmeans ‘the Ford of the Bell,’ in allusion, as the story goes, to a silver bell that used in former ages to be at Ỻanwonno Church. The people of Ỻanfabon took a liking to it, and one night a band of them stole it; but as they were carrying it across the Taff the moon happened to make her appearance suddenly, and they, in their fright, taking it to be sunrise, dropped the bell in the bed of the river, so that nothing has ever been heard of it since. But for ages afterwards, and even at the present day indeed, nothing could rouse the natives of Ỻanfabon to greater fury than to hear the moon spoken of ashaul Ỻanfabon, ‘the sun of Ỻanfabon.’↑27It was peat fires that were usual in those days even in Glamorgan.↑28See Hartland’sScience of Fairy Tales, pp. 112–6.↑29In no other version has Mr. Reynolds heardcwcwỻ wy iâr, but eitherplisgynorcibyn wy iâr, to which I may addmasgalfrom Mr. Craigfryn Hughes’ versions. The wordcwcwỻusually means a cowl, but perhaps it is best here to treatcwcwỻas a distinct word derived somehow fromconchyliumor the Frenchcoquille, ‘a shell.’↑30The whole passage will be found in theItinerarium Kambriæ, i. 8 (pp. 75–8), and Giraldus fixes the story a little before his time somewhere in the district around Swansea and Neath. With this agrees closely enough the fact that a second David,Dafyđ ab GeraỻdorDavid Fitzgerald, appears to have been consecrated Bishop of St. David’s in 1147, and to have died in 1176.↑31The words in the original are:Nec carne vescebantur, nec pisce; lacteis plerumque cibariis utentes, et in pultis modum quasi croco confectis.↑32Perhaps it is this also that suggested the nameEliodorus, as it wereἩλιόδωρος; for the original name was probably the medieval Welsh one ofElidyr= IrishAilithir,ailither, ‘a pilgrim’: compare the Pembrokeshire namePergrinand the like. It is curious thatElidyrdid not occur to Glasynys and prevent him from substitutingElfod, which is quite another name, and more correctly writtenElfođfor the earlierEl-fođw, found not only asElbodubut alsoElbodug-o,Elbodg,ElbotandElfod: see p. 117 above.↑33For one or two more instances from Wales see Howells, pp. 54–7. Brittany also is a great country for death portents: see A. Le Braz,Légende de la Mort en Basse-Bretagne(Paris, 1893), also Sébillot’sTraditions et Superstitions de la Haute-Bretagne(Paris, 1882), i. pp. 270–1. For Scotland seeThe Ghost Lights of the West Highlandsby Dr. R. C. Maclagan inFolk-Lorefor 1897, pp. 203–256, and for the cognate subject of second sight see Dalyell’sDarker Superstitions of Scotland, pp. 466–88.↑34Another word for thetoeliis given by Silvan Evans as used in certain parts of South Wales, namely,tolaethordolath, as to which hementions the opinion that it is a corruption oftylwyth, a view corroborated by Howells using, p. 31, the pluraltyloethod; but it could not be easily explained except as a corruption through the medium of English. Elias Owen, p. 303, uses the word in reference to the hammering and rapping noise attending the joinering of a phantom coffin for a man about to die, a sort of rehearsal well known throughout the Principality to every one who has ears spiritually tuned. Unfortunately I have not yet succeeded in locating the use of the wordtolaeth, except that I have been assured by a Carmarthen man that it is current in Welsh there astoleth, and by a native of Pumsant that it is in use from Abergwili up to Ỻanbumsant.↑35See, for instance, pp. 200, 221, 228.↑36Mrs. Williams-Ellis of Glasfryn writes to me that the place is now called Bwlch Trwyn Swncwl, that it is a gap on the highest part of the road crossing from Ỻanaelhaearn to Pistyỻ, and that it is quite a little mountain pass between bleak heather-covered hillsides, in fact a very lonely spot in the outskirts of the Eifl, and with Carnguwch blocking the horizon in the direction of Cardigan Bay.↑37For this I am indebted to Mr. Gwenogvryn Evans’Report on MSS. in the Welsh Language, i. 585 k. The words were written by Williams about the beginning of the seventeenth century, and hisûdoes not meanw. He was, however, probably thinking ofcawr,cewri, and such instances astawaf, ‘taceo,’ andtau, ‘tacet.’ At all events there is no trace ofuin the local pronunciation of the nameTre’r Ceiri. I have heard it also asTre’ Ceiriwithout the definite article; but had this been ancient one would expect it softened intoTre’ Geiri.↑38See the OxfordMabinogion, pp. 110, 113, and 27–9, 36–41, 44, also 309, where a Triad explains that the outposts were Anglesey, Man, and Lundy.But the other Triads, i. 3 = iii. 67, make them Orkney, Man, and Wight, for which we have the older authority of Nennius. § 8. The designationTair Ynys Brydain, ‘The Three Isles of Prydain,’ was known to the fourteenth-century poet, Iolo Goch: see his works edited by Ashton, p. 669.↑39ForPrydynin the plural see Skene’sFour Ancient Books of Wales, ii. 209, also 92, wherePrydenis the form used. In modern Welsh the two senses ofCymryare distinguished in writing asCymryandCymru, but the difference is merely one of spelling and not very ancient.↑40So Geoffrey (i. 12–15) brings his Trojans on their way to Britain into Aquitania, where they fight with thePictavienses, whose king he calls GoffariusPictus.↑41Cadarnandcadrpostulate respectively some such early forms ascatṛno-sandcadro-s, which according to analogy should becomecadarnandcađr. Welsh, however, is not fond ofđr; so here begins a bifurcation: (1) retaining thedunchangedcadro-syieldscadr, or (2)dris made intođr, and other changes set in resulting in theceirofceiri, as in Welshaneirif, ‘numberless,’ fromeirif, ‘number,’ of the same origin as Irisháramfrom *ađ-rim= *ad-rīmā, and Welsheiliw, ‘species, colour,’ forađ-liw, in both of whichifollowsđcombinations; but that is not essential, as shown bycader,cadair, for Old Welshcateir, ‘a chair,’ from Latincat[h]edra. The word that serves as our singular, namelycawr, is far harder to explain; but on the whole I am inclined to regard it as of a different origin, to wit, the Goidelic wordcaur, ‘a giant or hero,’ borrowed. The pluralcewriorcawriis formed from the singularcawr, which means a giant, though, associated in the plural withceiri, it has sometimes to follow suit with that vocable in connoting dress.↑42The most important of these are the old Bretonkazr, nowkaer, ‘beautiful or pretty,’ and old Cornishcaerof the same meaning; elsewhere we have, as in Greek, the Doricκέκαδμαιandκεκαδμένος, to be found used in reference to excelling or distinguishing one’s self; alsoκόσμος, ‘good order, ornament,’ while in Sanskrit there is the themeçad, ‘to excel or surpass.’ The old meaning of ‘beautiful,’ ‘decorated,’ or ‘loudly dressed,’ is not yet lost in the case ofceiri.↑
1This chapter, except where a later date is suggested, may be regarded as written in the summer of 1883.↑2Trefriwmeans the town of the slope or hillside, and stands forTref y Riw, nottref y Rhiw, which would have yieldedTreffriw, for there is a tendency in Gwyneđ to make the mutation after the definite article conform to the general rule, and to sayy law, ‘the hand,’ andy raw, ‘the spade,’ instead of what would be in booksy ỻawandy rhawfromyr ỻawandyr rhaw.↑3Why the writer spells the name Criccieth in this way I cannot tell, except that he was more or less under the influence of the more intelligible spellingCrugcaith, as where Lewis Glyn Cothi. I. xxiv, sangRhys ab Sion â’r hysbys iaith,Gwr yw acw o Grugcaith.This spelling postulates the interpretationCrug-Caith, earlierCrug y Ceith, ‘the mound or barrow of the captives,’ in reference to some forgotten interment; but when the accent receded to the first syllable the second was slurred almost out of recognition, so thatCrug-ceith, orCruc-ceith, becameCrúceth, whenceCrúci̭ethandCrici̭eth. TheBrutshaveCrugyeiththe only time it occurs, and theRecord of Carnarvon(several times)Krukyth.↑4Out of excessive fondness for our Arthur English people translate this name into Arthur’s Seat instead of Idris’ Seat; but Idris was also somebody: he was a giant with a liking for the study of the stars. But let that be: I wish to say a word concerning his name: Idris may be explained as meaning ‘War-champion,’ or the like; and, phonologically speaking, it comes fromIuđ-rys, which was made successively intoId-rys,Idris. The syllablei̭uđmeant battle or fight, and it undergoes a variety of forms in Welsh names. Thus beforen,r,l, andw, it becomesid, as inIdnerth,Idloes, andIdwal, whileIuđ-haelyieldsIthel, whence Ab Ithel, anglicizedBethel. At the end, however, it isyđoruđ, as inGruffuđorGruffyđ, from Old WelshGrippi̭uđ, andMareduđorMeredyđfor an olderMarget-i̭uđ. By itself it is possibly the word which the poets writeuđ, and understand to meanlord; but if these forms are related, it must have originally meant rather a fighter, soldier, or champion.↑5There is a special similarity between this and an Anglesey story given by Howells, p. 138: it consists in the sequence of seeing the fairies dance and finding money left by them. Why was the money left?↑6It was so called by the poet D. ab Gwilym, cxcii. 12, when he sang:I odi ac i luchioOđiar lechweđ Moel Eilio.To bring snow and drifting flakesFrom off Moel Eilio’s slope.↑7This is commonly pronounced ‘Y Gath Dorwen,’ but the people of the neighbourhood wish to explain away a farm name which could, strangely enough, only mean ‘the white-bellied cat’; buty Garth Dorwen, ‘the white-belliedgarthor hill,’ is not a very likely name either.↑8The hiring time in Wales is the beginning of winter and of summer; or, as one would say in Welsh, at the Calends of Winter and the Calends ofMay respectively. In North Cardiganshire the great hiring fair was held at the former date when I was a boy, and so, as I learn from my wife, it was in Carnarvonshire.↑9In a Cornish story mentioned inChoice Notes, p. 77, we have, instead of ointment, simply soap. See also Mrs. Bray’sBanks of the Tamar, pp. 174–7, where she alludes to H. Cornelius Agrippa’s statement how such ointment used to be made—the reference must, I think, be to his bookDe Occulta Philosophia Libri III(Paris, 1567), i. 45 (pp. 81–2).↑10See theMabinogion, pp. 1–2; Evans’Facsimile of the Black Book of Carmarthen, fol. 49b–50a; Rhys’Arthurian Legend, pp. 155–8; Edmund Jones’Spirits in the County of Monmouth, pp. 39, 71, 82; and in this volume, pp. 143, 203, above. I may mention that the Cornish also have had theirCwn Annwn, though the name is a different one, to wit in the phrase, ‘the Devil and his Dandy-dogs’: seeChoice Notes, pp. 78–80.↑11As it stands now this would be unmutatedCésel Gýfarch, ‘Cyfarch’s Nook,’ but there never was such a name. There was, however,ElgýfarchorAelgýfarchandRhygýfarch, and in such a combination asCésel Elgýfarchthere would be every temptation to drop one unaccentedel.↑12Owing to some oversight he has ‘a clean or a dirtycow’ instead ofcow-yardorcow-house, as I understand it.↑13Cwtamakescotain the feminine in North Cardiganshire; the word is nevertheless only the Englishcuttyborrowed.Du, ‘black,’ has corresponding to it in Irish,dubh. So the Welsh word seems to have passed through the stagesdyv,dyw, beforeywwas contracted intoû, which was formerly pronounced like Frenchû, as proved by the grammar already mentioned (p. 22) of J. D. Rhys, published in London in 1592; see p. 33, to which my attention has been called by Prof. J. Morris Jones. In Old or pre-Norman Welshmdid duty formandv, so one detectsdyvasdimin a woman’s namePenardim, ‘she of the very black head’; there was also aPenarwen, ‘she of the very blonde head.’ The look ofPenardimhaving baffled the redactor of theBranwen, he left the spelling unchanged: see the (Oxford)Mabinogion, p. 26. The same sort of change which producedduhas producedcnu, ‘a fleece,’ as compared withcneifio, ‘to fleece’;ỻuarth, ‘a kitchen garden,’ as compared with its Irish equivalentlubhghort. Compare alsoRhiwabon, locally pronouncedRhuabon, andRhiwaỻon, occurring sometimes asRhuaỻon. But the most notable rôle of this phonetic process is exemplified by the verbal nouns ending inu, such ascaru, ‘to love,’credu, ‘to believe,’tyngu, ‘to swear,’ in which theucorresponds to anmtermination in Old Irish, as insechem, ‘to follow,’cretem, ‘belief,’sessamorsessom, ‘to stand.’↑14In medieval Welsh poetry this name was still a dissyllable; but now it is pronouncedỺŷn, in conformity with the habit of the Gwyndodeg, which makes intoporfŷđwhat is writtenporfeyđ, ‘pastures,’ and pronouncedporféiđin North Cardiganshire. So in the Ỻeyn nameSarn Fyỻteyrnthe second vocable representsMaelteyrn, in theRecord of Carnarvon(p. 38)Mayltern̄: it is now soundedMyỻtyrnwith the secondyshort and accented.Ỻeynis a plural of the people (genitiveỺaëninPorth Dinỻaën), used as a singular of their country, likeCymru=Cymry, andPrydyn. The singular isỻain, ‘a spear,’ in theBook of Aneurin: see Skene, ii. 64, 88, 92.↑15It is also calleddolur byr, or the ‘short disease’; I believe I have been told that it is the disease known to ‘the vet.’ as anthrax.↑16Here the writer seems to have been puzzled by themhof Amheirchion, and to have argued back to a radical formParch; but he was on the wrong tack—Amheirchioncomes fromAp-Meirchion, where thephelped to make thema surd, which, with the syllabic accent on the succeeding vowel, became fixed asmh, while thepdisappeared by assimilation. We have, later on, a similar instance inOwen y Mhaxenfor Owen Amhacsen = O. ap Macsen. Another instance will be found at the opening of theMabinogiof Branwen, to wit, in the wordprynhawngweith, ‘once on an afternoon,’ fromprynhawn, ‘afternoon,’ for which our dictionaries substituteprydnawn, with the accent on the ultima, though D. ab Gwilym usedpyrnhawn, as in poem xl. 30. But the ordinary pronunciation continues to beprynháwnorpyrnháwn, sometimes reduced in Gwyneđ topnawn. Let me add an instance which has reached me since writing the above: In theArchæologia Cambrensisfor 1899, pp. 325–6, we have the pedigree of theAmeridithsfrom the Visitation of Devonshire in 1620: in the course of it one finds that Iuan ap Merydeth has a son ThomasAmerideth, who, knowing probably no Welsh, took to writing his patronymic more nearly as it was pronounced. The line is brought down to AmesAmerideth, who was created baronet in 1639.Ameridethof course = Ap Meredyđ, and the present member of the family who writes to theArchæologia Cambrensisspells his patronymic more correctly,Ameridith; but if it had survived in Wales it might have beenAmheredyđ. For an older instance than any of these see theBook of Taliessin, poem xlix (= Skene, ii. 204), where one reads ofBeli Amhanogan, ‘B. ab Mynogan.’↑17This is pronouncedRhiwan, though probably made up of Rhiw-wen, for it is the tendency of the Gwyndodeg to converteandaiof the unaccented ultima intoa, and so withein Glamorgan; see such instances asCornwanandcasag, p. 29 above. It is possibly a tendency inherited from Goidelic, as Irish is found to proceed in the same way.↑18I may mention that some of the Francises of Anglesey are supposed to be descendants of Frazers, who changed their name on finding refuge inthe island in the time of the troubles which brought there the ancestor of the Frazer who, from time to time, claims to be the rightful head of the Lovat family.↑19According to old Welsh orthography this would be writtenMoudin, and in the book Welsh of the present day it would have to becomeMeuđin. Restored, however, to the level of Gallo-Roman names, it would beMogodunumorMagodunum. The place is known as Casteỻ Moeđin, and includes within it the end of a hill about halfway between Ỻannarth and Lampeter.↑20For other mentions of the colours of fairy dress see pp. 44, 139 above, where red prevails, and contrast the Lake Lady of Ỻyn Barfog clad in green, p. 145.↑21This name means the Bridge of the Blessed Ford, but how the ford came to be so called I know not. The wordbendigaid, ‘blessed,’ comes from the Latin verbbenedico, ‘I bless,’ and should, but for the objection tonđin book Welsh, bebenđigaid, which, in fact, it is approximately in the northern part of the county, where it is colloquially sounded Pont RhydFynđiged,Fyđiged, or evenFđiged, also Pont Rhydm̥điged, which represents the result of the unmutated formBđigedcoming directly after thedofrhyd. Somewhat the same is the case with the name of the herbDail y Fendigaid, literally ‘the Leaves of the Blessed’ (in the feminine singular without any further indication of the noun to be supplied). This name means, I find, ‘hypericum androsæmum, tutsan,’ and in North Cardiganshire we call it Dail yFynđigedorFđiged, but in Carnarvonshire the adjective is made to qualifydail, so that it sounds DailByđigadorBđigad, ‘Blessed Leaves.’↑22I am far from certain whaty nos, ‘the night,’ may mean in such names as this andCraig y Nos, ‘the Rock of the Night’ (p. 254 above), to which perhaps might be added such an instance asBlaen Nos, ‘the Point of (the?) Night,’ in the neighbourhood of Ỻandovery, in Carmarthenshire. Can the allusion be merely to thickly overshadowed spots where the darkness of night might be said to lurk in defiance of the light of day? I have never visited the places in point, and leading questions addressed to local authorities are too apt to elicit misleading answers: the poetic faculty is dangerously rampant in the Principality.↑23Dâris a Glamorgan pronunciation,metri gratiâof what is writtendaear, ‘earth’: compared’ar-fochynin Glamorgan for a badger, literally ‘an earth pig.’ The dwarf’s answer was probably in some sort of verse, withdârandiârto rhyme.↑24Applied in Glamorgan to a child that looks poorly and does not grow.↑25In Cardiganshire a conjurer is calleddyn hysbys, wherehysbys(or, in older orthography,hyspys) means ‘informed’: it is the man who isinformedon matters which are dark to others; but the word is also used of facts—Y mae ’r peth yn hysbys, ‘the thing is known or manifest.’ The word is divisible intohy-spys, which would be in Irish, had it existed in the language,so-scesefor an earlysu-squesti̭a-s, the related Irish words beingad-chiu, ‘I see,’ pass. preteritead-chess, ‘was seen,’ and the like, in whichciandceshave been equated by Zimmer with the Sanskrit verbcaksh, ‘to see,’ from a rootquas. The adjectivecynnilapplied to thedyn hyspysin Glamorgan means now, as a rule, ‘economical’ or ‘thrifty,’ but in this instance it would seem to have signified ‘shrewd,’ ‘cunning,’ or ‘clever,’ though it would probably come nearer the original meaning of the word to render it by ‘smart,’ for it is in Irishconduail, which is found applied to ingenious work, such as the ornamentation on the hilt of a sword. Another term for a wizard or conjurer isgwr cyfarwyđ, with which the reader is already familiar. Herecyfarwyđforms a link with thekyvarỽydof theMabinogion, where it usually means a professional man, especially one skilled in story and history; and what constituted his knowledge was calledkyvarỽydyt, which included, among other things, acquaintance with boundaries and pedigrees, but it meant most frequently perhaps story; see the (Oxford)Mabinogion, pp. 5, 61, 72, 93. All these terms should, strictly speaking, havegwr—gwr hyspys,gwr cynnil, andgwr cyfarwyđ—but for the fact that modern Welsh tends to restrictgwrto signify ‘a husband’ or ‘a married man,’ whiledyn, which only signifies amortal, is made to mean man, and provided with a femininedynes, ‘woman,’ unknown to good Welsh literature. Thus the spoken language is in this matter nearly on a level with English and French, which have quite lost the word forvirandἀνήρ.↑26Rhyd y Glochmeans ‘the Ford of the Bell,’ in allusion, as the story goes, to a silver bell that used in former ages to be at Ỻanwonno Church. The people of Ỻanfabon took a liking to it, and one night a band of them stole it; but as they were carrying it across the Taff the moon happened to make her appearance suddenly, and they, in their fright, taking it to be sunrise, dropped the bell in the bed of the river, so that nothing has ever been heard of it since. But for ages afterwards, and even at the present day indeed, nothing could rouse the natives of Ỻanfabon to greater fury than to hear the moon spoken of ashaul Ỻanfabon, ‘the sun of Ỻanfabon.’↑27It was peat fires that were usual in those days even in Glamorgan.↑28See Hartland’sScience of Fairy Tales, pp. 112–6.↑29In no other version has Mr. Reynolds heardcwcwỻ wy iâr, but eitherplisgynorcibyn wy iâr, to which I may addmasgalfrom Mr. Craigfryn Hughes’ versions. The wordcwcwỻusually means a cowl, but perhaps it is best here to treatcwcwỻas a distinct word derived somehow fromconchyliumor the Frenchcoquille, ‘a shell.’↑30The whole passage will be found in theItinerarium Kambriæ, i. 8 (pp. 75–8), and Giraldus fixes the story a little before his time somewhere in the district around Swansea and Neath. With this agrees closely enough the fact that a second David,Dafyđ ab GeraỻdorDavid Fitzgerald, appears to have been consecrated Bishop of St. David’s in 1147, and to have died in 1176.↑31The words in the original are:Nec carne vescebantur, nec pisce; lacteis plerumque cibariis utentes, et in pultis modum quasi croco confectis.↑32Perhaps it is this also that suggested the nameEliodorus, as it wereἩλιόδωρος; for the original name was probably the medieval Welsh one ofElidyr= IrishAilithir,ailither, ‘a pilgrim’: compare the Pembrokeshire namePergrinand the like. It is curious thatElidyrdid not occur to Glasynys and prevent him from substitutingElfod, which is quite another name, and more correctly writtenElfođfor the earlierEl-fođw, found not only asElbodubut alsoElbodug-o,Elbodg,ElbotandElfod: see p. 117 above.↑33For one or two more instances from Wales see Howells, pp. 54–7. Brittany also is a great country for death portents: see A. Le Braz,Légende de la Mort en Basse-Bretagne(Paris, 1893), also Sébillot’sTraditions et Superstitions de la Haute-Bretagne(Paris, 1882), i. pp. 270–1. For Scotland seeThe Ghost Lights of the West Highlandsby Dr. R. C. Maclagan inFolk-Lorefor 1897, pp. 203–256, and for the cognate subject of second sight see Dalyell’sDarker Superstitions of Scotland, pp. 466–88.↑34Another word for thetoeliis given by Silvan Evans as used in certain parts of South Wales, namely,tolaethordolath, as to which hementions the opinion that it is a corruption oftylwyth, a view corroborated by Howells using, p. 31, the pluraltyloethod; but it could not be easily explained except as a corruption through the medium of English. Elias Owen, p. 303, uses the word in reference to the hammering and rapping noise attending the joinering of a phantom coffin for a man about to die, a sort of rehearsal well known throughout the Principality to every one who has ears spiritually tuned. Unfortunately I have not yet succeeded in locating the use of the wordtolaeth, except that I have been assured by a Carmarthen man that it is current in Welsh there astoleth, and by a native of Pumsant that it is in use from Abergwili up to Ỻanbumsant.↑35See, for instance, pp. 200, 221, 228.↑36Mrs. Williams-Ellis of Glasfryn writes to me that the place is now called Bwlch Trwyn Swncwl, that it is a gap on the highest part of the road crossing from Ỻanaelhaearn to Pistyỻ, and that it is quite a little mountain pass between bleak heather-covered hillsides, in fact a very lonely spot in the outskirts of the Eifl, and with Carnguwch blocking the horizon in the direction of Cardigan Bay.↑37For this I am indebted to Mr. Gwenogvryn Evans’Report on MSS. in the Welsh Language, i. 585 k. The words were written by Williams about the beginning of the seventeenth century, and hisûdoes not meanw. He was, however, probably thinking ofcawr,cewri, and such instances astawaf, ‘taceo,’ andtau, ‘tacet.’ At all events there is no trace ofuin the local pronunciation of the nameTre’r Ceiri. I have heard it also asTre’ Ceiriwithout the definite article; but had this been ancient one would expect it softened intoTre’ Geiri.↑38See the OxfordMabinogion, pp. 110, 113, and 27–9, 36–41, 44, also 309, where a Triad explains that the outposts were Anglesey, Man, and Lundy.But the other Triads, i. 3 = iii. 67, make them Orkney, Man, and Wight, for which we have the older authority of Nennius. § 8. The designationTair Ynys Brydain, ‘The Three Isles of Prydain,’ was known to the fourteenth-century poet, Iolo Goch: see his works edited by Ashton, p. 669.↑39ForPrydynin the plural see Skene’sFour Ancient Books of Wales, ii. 209, also 92, wherePrydenis the form used. In modern Welsh the two senses ofCymryare distinguished in writing asCymryandCymru, but the difference is merely one of spelling and not very ancient.↑40So Geoffrey (i. 12–15) brings his Trojans on their way to Britain into Aquitania, where they fight with thePictavienses, whose king he calls GoffariusPictus.↑41Cadarnandcadrpostulate respectively some such early forms ascatṛno-sandcadro-s, which according to analogy should becomecadarnandcađr. Welsh, however, is not fond ofđr; so here begins a bifurcation: (1) retaining thedunchangedcadro-syieldscadr, or (2)dris made intođr, and other changes set in resulting in theceirofceiri, as in Welshaneirif, ‘numberless,’ fromeirif, ‘number,’ of the same origin as Irisháramfrom *ađ-rim= *ad-rīmā, and Welsheiliw, ‘species, colour,’ forađ-liw, in both of whichifollowsđcombinations; but that is not essential, as shown bycader,cadair, for Old Welshcateir, ‘a chair,’ from Latincat[h]edra. The word that serves as our singular, namelycawr, is far harder to explain; but on the whole I am inclined to regard it as of a different origin, to wit, the Goidelic wordcaur, ‘a giant or hero,’ borrowed. The pluralcewriorcawriis formed from the singularcawr, which means a giant, though, associated in the plural withceiri, it has sometimes to follow suit with that vocable in connoting dress.↑42The most important of these are the old Bretonkazr, nowkaer, ‘beautiful or pretty,’ and old Cornishcaerof the same meaning; elsewhere we have, as in Greek, the Doricκέκαδμαιandκεκαδμένος, to be found used in reference to excelling or distinguishing one’s self; alsoκόσμος, ‘good order, ornament,’ while in Sanskrit there is the themeçad, ‘to excel or surpass.’ The old meaning of ‘beautiful,’ ‘decorated,’ or ‘loudly dressed,’ is not yet lost in the case ofceiri.↑
1This chapter, except where a later date is suggested, may be regarded as written in the summer of 1883.↑
2Trefriwmeans the town of the slope or hillside, and stands forTref y Riw, nottref y Rhiw, which would have yieldedTreffriw, for there is a tendency in Gwyneđ to make the mutation after the definite article conform to the general rule, and to sayy law, ‘the hand,’ andy raw, ‘the spade,’ instead of what would be in booksy ỻawandy rhawfromyr ỻawandyr rhaw.↑
3Why the writer spells the name Criccieth in this way I cannot tell, except that he was more or less under the influence of the more intelligible spellingCrugcaith, as where Lewis Glyn Cothi. I. xxiv, sang
Rhys ab Sion â’r hysbys iaith,Gwr yw acw o Grugcaith.
Rhys ab Sion â’r hysbys iaith,Gwr yw acw o Grugcaith.
Rhys ab Sion â’r hysbys iaith,Gwr yw acw o Grugcaith.
Rhys ab Sion â’r hysbys iaith,Gwr yw acw o Grugcaith.
Rhys ab Sion â’r hysbys iaith,
Gwr yw acw o Grugcaith.
This spelling postulates the interpretationCrug-Caith, earlierCrug y Ceith, ‘the mound or barrow of the captives,’ in reference to some forgotten interment; but when the accent receded to the first syllable the second was slurred almost out of recognition, so thatCrug-ceith, orCruc-ceith, becameCrúceth, whenceCrúci̭ethandCrici̭eth. TheBrutshaveCrugyeiththe only time it occurs, and theRecord of Carnarvon(several times)Krukyth.↑
4Out of excessive fondness for our Arthur English people translate this name into Arthur’s Seat instead of Idris’ Seat; but Idris was also somebody: he was a giant with a liking for the study of the stars. But let that be: I wish to say a word concerning his name: Idris may be explained as meaning ‘War-champion,’ or the like; and, phonologically speaking, it comes fromIuđ-rys, which was made successively intoId-rys,Idris. The syllablei̭uđmeant battle or fight, and it undergoes a variety of forms in Welsh names. Thus beforen,r,l, andw, it becomesid, as inIdnerth,Idloes, andIdwal, whileIuđ-haelyieldsIthel, whence Ab Ithel, anglicizedBethel. At the end, however, it isyđoruđ, as inGruffuđorGruffyđ, from Old WelshGrippi̭uđ, andMareduđorMeredyđfor an olderMarget-i̭uđ. By itself it is possibly the word which the poets writeuđ, and understand to meanlord; but if these forms are related, it must have originally meant rather a fighter, soldier, or champion.↑
5There is a special similarity between this and an Anglesey story given by Howells, p. 138: it consists in the sequence of seeing the fairies dance and finding money left by them. Why was the money left?↑
6It was so called by the poet D. ab Gwilym, cxcii. 12, when he sang:
I odi ac i luchioOđiar lechweđ Moel Eilio.To bring snow and drifting flakesFrom off Moel Eilio’s slope.
I odi ac i luchioOđiar lechweđ Moel Eilio.To bring snow and drifting flakesFrom off Moel Eilio’s slope.
I odi ac i luchioOđiar lechweđ Moel Eilio.To bring snow and drifting flakesFrom off Moel Eilio’s slope.
I odi ac i luchioOđiar lechweđ Moel Eilio.To bring snow and drifting flakesFrom off Moel Eilio’s slope.
I odi ac i luchioOđiar lechweđ Moel Eilio.
I odi ac i luchio
Ođiar lechweđ Moel Eilio.
To bring snow and drifting flakesFrom off Moel Eilio’s slope.
To bring snow and drifting flakes
From off Moel Eilio’s slope.
↑
7This is commonly pronounced ‘Y Gath Dorwen,’ but the people of the neighbourhood wish to explain away a farm name which could, strangely enough, only mean ‘the white-bellied cat’; buty Garth Dorwen, ‘the white-belliedgarthor hill,’ is not a very likely name either.↑
8The hiring time in Wales is the beginning of winter and of summer; or, as one would say in Welsh, at the Calends of Winter and the Calends ofMay respectively. In North Cardiganshire the great hiring fair was held at the former date when I was a boy, and so, as I learn from my wife, it was in Carnarvonshire.↑
9In a Cornish story mentioned inChoice Notes, p. 77, we have, instead of ointment, simply soap. See also Mrs. Bray’sBanks of the Tamar, pp. 174–7, where she alludes to H. Cornelius Agrippa’s statement how such ointment used to be made—the reference must, I think, be to his bookDe Occulta Philosophia Libri III(Paris, 1567), i. 45 (pp. 81–2).↑
10See theMabinogion, pp. 1–2; Evans’Facsimile of the Black Book of Carmarthen, fol. 49b–50a; Rhys’Arthurian Legend, pp. 155–8; Edmund Jones’Spirits in the County of Monmouth, pp. 39, 71, 82; and in this volume, pp. 143, 203, above. I may mention that the Cornish also have had theirCwn Annwn, though the name is a different one, to wit in the phrase, ‘the Devil and his Dandy-dogs’: seeChoice Notes, pp. 78–80.↑
11As it stands now this would be unmutatedCésel Gýfarch, ‘Cyfarch’s Nook,’ but there never was such a name. There was, however,ElgýfarchorAelgýfarchandRhygýfarch, and in such a combination asCésel Elgýfarchthere would be every temptation to drop one unaccentedel.↑
12Owing to some oversight he has ‘a clean or a dirtycow’ instead ofcow-yardorcow-house, as I understand it.↑
13Cwtamakescotain the feminine in North Cardiganshire; the word is nevertheless only the Englishcuttyborrowed.Du, ‘black,’ has corresponding to it in Irish,dubh. So the Welsh word seems to have passed through the stagesdyv,dyw, beforeywwas contracted intoû, which was formerly pronounced like Frenchû, as proved by the grammar already mentioned (p. 22) of J. D. Rhys, published in London in 1592; see p. 33, to which my attention has been called by Prof. J. Morris Jones. In Old or pre-Norman Welshmdid duty formandv, so one detectsdyvasdimin a woman’s namePenardim, ‘she of the very black head’; there was also aPenarwen, ‘she of the very blonde head.’ The look ofPenardimhaving baffled the redactor of theBranwen, he left the spelling unchanged: see the (Oxford)Mabinogion, p. 26. The same sort of change which producedduhas producedcnu, ‘a fleece,’ as compared withcneifio, ‘to fleece’;ỻuarth, ‘a kitchen garden,’ as compared with its Irish equivalentlubhghort. Compare alsoRhiwabon, locally pronouncedRhuabon, andRhiwaỻon, occurring sometimes asRhuaỻon. But the most notable rôle of this phonetic process is exemplified by the verbal nouns ending inu, such ascaru, ‘to love,’credu, ‘to believe,’tyngu, ‘to swear,’ in which theucorresponds to anmtermination in Old Irish, as insechem, ‘to follow,’cretem, ‘belief,’sessamorsessom, ‘to stand.’↑
14In medieval Welsh poetry this name was still a dissyllable; but now it is pronouncedỺŷn, in conformity with the habit of the Gwyndodeg, which makes intoporfŷđwhat is writtenporfeyđ, ‘pastures,’ and pronouncedporféiđin North Cardiganshire. So in the Ỻeyn nameSarn Fyỻteyrnthe second vocable representsMaelteyrn, in theRecord of Carnarvon(p. 38)Mayltern̄: it is now soundedMyỻtyrnwith the secondyshort and accented.Ỻeynis a plural of the people (genitiveỺaëninPorth Dinỻaën), used as a singular of their country, likeCymru=Cymry, andPrydyn. The singular isỻain, ‘a spear,’ in theBook of Aneurin: see Skene, ii. 64, 88, 92.↑
15It is also calleddolur byr, or the ‘short disease’; I believe I have been told that it is the disease known to ‘the vet.’ as anthrax.↑
16Here the writer seems to have been puzzled by themhof Amheirchion, and to have argued back to a radical formParch; but he was on the wrong tack—Amheirchioncomes fromAp-Meirchion, where thephelped to make thema surd, which, with the syllabic accent on the succeeding vowel, became fixed asmh, while thepdisappeared by assimilation. We have, later on, a similar instance inOwen y Mhaxenfor Owen Amhacsen = O. ap Macsen. Another instance will be found at the opening of theMabinogiof Branwen, to wit, in the wordprynhawngweith, ‘once on an afternoon,’ fromprynhawn, ‘afternoon,’ for which our dictionaries substituteprydnawn, with the accent on the ultima, though D. ab Gwilym usedpyrnhawn, as in poem xl. 30. But the ordinary pronunciation continues to beprynháwnorpyrnháwn, sometimes reduced in Gwyneđ topnawn. Let me add an instance which has reached me since writing the above: In theArchæologia Cambrensisfor 1899, pp. 325–6, we have the pedigree of theAmeridithsfrom the Visitation of Devonshire in 1620: in the course of it one finds that Iuan ap Merydeth has a son ThomasAmerideth, who, knowing probably no Welsh, took to writing his patronymic more nearly as it was pronounced. The line is brought down to AmesAmerideth, who was created baronet in 1639.Ameridethof course = Ap Meredyđ, and the present member of the family who writes to theArchæologia Cambrensisspells his patronymic more correctly,Ameridith; but if it had survived in Wales it might have beenAmheredyđ. For an older instance than any of these see theBook of Taliessin, poem xlix (= Skene, ii. 204), where one reads ofBeli Amhanogan, ‘B. ab Mynogan.’↑
17This is pronouncedRhiwan, though probably made up of Rhiw-wen, for it is the tendency of the Gwyndodeg to converteandaiof the unaccented ultima intoa, and so withein Glamorgan; see such instances asCornwanandcasag, p. 29 above. It is possibly a tendency inherited from Goidelic, as Irish is found to proceed in the same way.↑
18I may mention that some of the Francises of Anglesey are supposed to be descendants of Frazers, who changed their name on finding refuge inthe island in the time of the troubles which brought there the ancestor of the Frazer who, from time to time, claims to be the rightful head of the Lovat family.↑
19According to old Welsh orthography this would be writtenMoudin, and in the book Welsh of the present day it would have to becomeMeuđin. Restored, however, to the level of Gallo-Roman names, it would beMogodunumorMagodunum. The place is known as Casteỻ Moeđin, and includes within it the end of a hill about halfway between Ỻannarth and Lampeter.↑
20For other mentions of the colours of fairy dress see pp. 44, 139 above, where red prevails, and contrast the Lake Lady of Ỻyn Barfog clad in green, p. 145.↑
21This name means the Bridge of the Blessed Ford, but how the ford came to be so called I know not. The wordbendigaid, ‘blessed,’ comes from the Latin verbbenedico, ‘I bless,’ and should, but for the objection tonđin book Welsh, bebenđigaid, which, in fact, it is approximately in the northern part of the county, where it is colloquially sounded Pont RhydFynđiged,Fyđiged, or evenFđiged, also Pont Rhydm̥điged, which represents the result of the unmutated formBđigedcoming directly after thedofrhyd. Somewhat the same is the case with the name of the herbDail y Fendigaid, literally ‘the Leaves of the Blessed’ (in the feminine singular without any further indication of the noun to be supplied). This name means, I find, ‘hypericum androsæmum, tutsan,’ and in North Cardiganshire we call it Dail yFynđigedorFđiged, but in Carnarvonshire the adjective is made to qualifydail, so that it sounds DailByđigadorBđigad, ‘Blessed Leaves.’↑
22I am far from certain whaty nos, ‘the night,’ may mean in such names as this andCraig y Nos, ‘the Rock of the Night’ (p. 254 above), to which perhaps might be added such an instance asBlaen Nos, ‘the Point of (the?) Night,’ in the neighbourhood of Ỻandovery, in Carmarthenshire. Can the allusion be merely to thickly overshadowed spots where the darkness of night might be said to lurk in defiance of the light of day? I have never visited the places in point, and leading questions addressed to local authorities are too apt to elicit misleading answers: the poetic faculty is dangerously rampant in the Principality.↑
23Dâris a Glamorgan pronunciation,metri gratiâof what is writtendaear, ‘earth’: compared’ar-fochynin Glamorgan for a badger, literally ‘an earth pig.’ The dwarf’s answer was probably in some sort of verse, withdârandiârto rhyme.↑
24Applied in Glamorgan to a child that looks poorly and does not grow.↑
25In Cardiganshire a conjurer is calleddyn hysbys, wherehysbys(or, in older orthography,hyspys) means ‘informed’: it is the man who isinformedon matters which are dark to others; but the word is also used of facts—Y mae ’r peth yn hysbys, ‘the thing is known or manifest.’ The word is divisible intohy-spys, which would be in Irish, had it existed in the language,so-scesefor an earlysu-squesti̭a-s, the related Irish words beingad-chiu, ‘I see,’ pass. preteritead-chess, ‘was seen,’ and the like, in whichciandceshave been equated by Zimmer with the Sanskrit verbcaksh, ‘to see,’ from a rootquas. The adjectivecynnilapplied to thedyn hyspysin Glamorgan means now, as a rule, ‘economical’ or ‘thrifty,’ but in this instance it would seem to have signified ‘shrewd,’ ‘cunning,’ or ‘clever,’ though it would probably come nearer the original meaning of the word to render it by ‘smart,’ for it is in Irishconduail, which is found applied to ingenious work, such as the ornamentation on the hilt of a sword. Another term for a wizard or conjurer isgwr cyfarwyđ, with which the reader is already familiar. Herecyfarwyđforms a link with thekyvarỽydof theMabinogion, where it usually means a professional man, especially one skilled in story and history; and what constituted his knowledge was calledkyvarỽydyt, which included, among other things, acquaintance with boundaries and pedigrees, but it meant most frequently perhaps story; see the (Oxford)Mabinogion, pp. 5, 61, 72, 93. All these terms should, strictly speaking, havegwr—gwr hyspys,gwr cynnil, andgwr cyfarwyđ—but for the fact that modern Welsh tends to restrictgwrto signify ‘a husband’ or ‘a married man,’ whiledyn, which only signifies amortal, is made to mean man, and provided with a femininedynes, ‘woman,’ unknown to good Welsh literature. Thus the spoken language is in this matter nearly on a level with English and French, which have quite lost the word forvirandἀνήρ.↑
26Rhyd y Glochmeans ‘the Ford of the Bell,’ in allusion, as the story goes, to a silver bell that used in former ages to be at Ỻanwonno Church. The people of Ỻanfabon took a liking to it, and one night a band of them stole it; but as they were carrying it across the Taff the moon happened to make her appearance suddenly, and they, in their fright, taking it to be sunrise, dropped the bell in the bed of the river, so that nothing has ever been heard of it since. But for ages afterwards, and even at the present day indeed, nothing could rouse the natives of Ỻanfabon to greater fury than to hear the moon spoken of ashaul Ỻanfabon, ‘the sun of Ỻanfabon.’↑
27It was peat fires that were usual in those days even in Glamorgan.↑
28See Hartland’sScience of Fairy Tales, pp. 112–6.↑
29In no other version has Mr. Reynolds heardcwcwỻ wy iâr, but eitherplisgynorcibyn wy iâr, to which I may addmasgalfrom Mr. Craigfryn Hughes’ versions. The wordcwcwỻusually means a cowl, but perhaps it is best here to treatcwcwỻas a distinct word derived somehow fromconchyliumor the Frenchcoquille, ‘a shell.’↑
30The whole passage will be found in theItinerarium Kambriæ, i. 8 (pp. 75–8), and Giraldus fixes the story a little before his time somewhere in the district around Swansea and Neath. With this agrees closely enough the fact that a second David,Dafyđ ab GeraỻdorDavid Fitzgerald, appears to have been consecrated Bishop of St. David’s in 1147, and to have died in 1176.↑
31The words in the original are:Nec carne vescebantur, nec pisce; lacteis plerumque cibariis utentes, et in pultis modum quasi croco confectis.↑
32Perhaps it is this also that suggested the nameEliodorus, as it wereἩλιόδωρος; for the original name was probably the medieval Welsh one ofElidyr= IrishAilithir,ailither, ‘a pilgrim’: compare the Pembrokeshire namePergrinand the like. It is curious thatElidyrdid not occur to Glasynys and prevent him from substitutingElfod, which is quite another name, and more correctly writtenElfođfor the earlierEl-fođw, found not only asElbodubut alsoElbodug-o,Elbodg,ElbotandElfod: see p. 117 above.↑
33For one or two more instances from Wales see Howells, pp. 54–7. Brittany also is a great country for death portents: see A. Le Braz,Légende de la Mort en Basse-Bretagne(Paris, 1893), also Sébillot’sTraditions et Superstitions de la Haute-Bretagne(Paris, 1882), i. pp. 270–1. For Scotland seeThe Ghost Lights of the West Highlandsby Dr. R. C. Maclagan inFolk-Lorefor 1897, pp. 203–256, and for the cognate subject of second sight see Dalyell’sDarker Superstitions of Scotland, pp. 466–88.↑
34Another word for thetoeliis given by Silvan Evans as used in certain parts of South Wales, namely,tolaethordolath, as to which hementions the opinion that it is a corruption oftylwyth, a view corroborated by Howells using, p. 31, the pluraltyloethod; but it could not be easily explained except as a corruption through the medium of English. Elias Owen, p. 303, uses the word in reference to the hammering and rapping noise attending the joinering of a phantom coffin for a man about to die, a sort of rehearsal well known throughout the Principality to every one who has ears spiritually tuned. Unfortunately I have not yet succeeded in locating the use of the wordtolaeth, except that I have been assured by a Carmarthen man that it is current in Welsh there astoleth, and by a native of Pumsant that it is in use from Abergwili up to Ỻanbumsant.↑
35See, for instance, pp. 200, 221, 228.↑
36Mrs. Williams-Ellis of Glasfryn writes to me that the place is now called Bwlch Trwyn Swncwl, that it is a gap on the highest part of the road crossing from Ỻanaelhaearn to Pistyỻ, and that it is quite a little mountain pass between bleak heather-covered hillsides, in fact a very lonely spot in the outskirts of the Eifl, and with Carnguwch blocking the horizon in the direction of Cardigan Bay.↑
37For this I am indebted to Mr. Gwenogvryn Evans’Report on MSS. in the Welsh Language, i. 585 k. The words were written by Williams about the beginning of the seventeenth century, and hisûdoes not meanw. He was, however, probably thinking ofcawr,cewri, and such instances astawaf, ‘taceo,’ andtau, ‘tacet.’ At all events there is no trace ofuin the local pronunciation of the nameTre’r Ceiri. I have heard it also asTre’ Ceiriwithout the definite article; but had this been ancient one would expect it softened intoTre’ Geiri.↑
38See the OxfordMabinogion, pp. 110, 113, and 27–9, 36–41, 44, also 309, where a Triad explains that the outposts were Anglesey, Man, and Lundy.But the other Triads, i. 3 = iii. 67, make them Orkney, Man, and Wight, for which we have the older authority of Nennius. § 8. The designationTair Ynys Brydain, ‘The Three Isles of Prydain,’ was known to the fourteenth-century poet, Iolo Goch: see his works edited by Ashton, p. 669.↑
39ForPrydynin the plural see Skene’sFour Ancient Books of Wales, ii. 209, also 92, wherePrydenis the form used. In modern Welsh the two senses ofCymryare distinguished in writing asCymryandCymru, but the difference is merely one of spelling and not very ancient.↑
40So Geoffrey (i. 12–15) brings his Trojans on their way to Britain into Aquitania, where they fight with thePictavienses, whose king he calls GoffariusPictus.↑
41Cadarnandcadrpostulate respectively some such early forms ascatṛno-sandcadro-s, which according to analogy should becomecadarnandcađr. Welsh, however, is not fond ofđr; so here begins a bifurcation: (1) retaining thedunchangedcadro-syieldscadr, or (2)dris made intođr, and other changes set in resulting in theceirofceiri, as in Welshaneirif, ‘numberless,’ fromeirif, ‘number,’ of the same origin as Irisháramfrom *ađ-rim= *ad-rīmā, and Welsheiliw, ‘species, colour,’ forađ-liw, in both of whichifollowsđcombinations; but that is not essential, as shown bycader,cadair, for Old Welshcateir, ‘a chair,’ from Latincat[h]edra. The word that serves as our singular, namelycawr, is far harder to explain; but on the whole I am inclined to regard it as of a different origin, to wit, the Goidelic wordcaur, ‘a giant or hero,’ borrowed. The pluralcewriorcawriis formed from the singularcawr, which means a giant, though, associated in the plural withceiri, it has sometimes to follow suit with that vocable in connoting dress.↑
42The most important of these are the old Bretonkazr, nowkaer, ‘beautiful or pretty,’ and old Cornishcaerof the same meaning; elsewhere we have, as in Greek, the Doricκέκαδμαιandκεκαδμένος, to be found used in reference to excelling or distinguishing one’s self; alsoκόσμος, ‘good order, ornament,’ while in Sanskrit there is the themeçad, ‘to excel or surpass.’ The old meaning of ‘beautiful,’ ‘decorated,’ or ‘loudly dressed,’ is not yet lost in the case ofceiri.↑