V.

V.The Rev. O. Davies regarded the Ỻanỻechid legend as so very like the one he got about Cweỻyn Lake and the Waen Fawr, that he has not written the former out at length, but merely pointed out the following differences: (1) Instead of Cweỻyn, the lake in the former is the pool of Corwrion, in the parish of Ỻandegai, near Bangor. (2) What the Lake Lady was struck with wasnot a bridle, but an iron fetter: the word used isỻyfether, which probably means a long fetter connecting a fore-foot and a hind-foot of a horse together. In Arfon, the word is applied also to a cord tying the two fore-feet together, but in Cardiganshire this would be called ahual, the other word, there pronouncedllowethir, being confined to the long fetter. In books, the word is writtenllywethair,llefethairandllyffethairorllyffethar, which is possibly the pronunciation in parts of North Wales, especially Arfon. This is an interesting word, as it is no other than the English term ‘long fetter,’ borrowed into Welsh; as, in fact, it was also into Irish early enough to call for an article on it in Cormac’sIrish Glossary, wherelangfiteris described as an English word for a fetter between the fore and the hind legs: in Anglo-Manx it is becomelanketer. (3) The field in which they were trying to catch the horse is, in the Ỻanỻechid version, specified as that called Maes Madog, at the foot of the Ỻefn. (4) When the fairy wife ran away, it was headlong into the pool of Corwrion, calling after her all her milch cows, and they followed her with the utmost readiness.Before going on to mention bits of information I have received from others about the Ỻanỻechid legend, I think it best here to finish with the items given me by Mr. O. Davies, whom I cannot too cordially thank for his readiness to answer my questions. Among other things, he expresses himself to the following effect:— ‘It is to this day a tradition—and I have heard it a hundred times—that the dairy of Corwrion excelled all other dairies in those parts, that the milk was better and more plentiful, and that the cheese and butter were better there than in all the country round, the reason assigned being that the cattle on the farm of Corwrion had mixed with the breed belonging to the fairy, whohad run away after being struck with the iron fetter. However that may be, I remember perfectly well the high terms of praise in which the cows of Corwrion used to be spoken of as being remarkable for their milk and the profit they yielded; and, when I was a boy, I used to hear people talk ofTarw Penwyn Corwrion, or “the White-headed Bull of Corwrion,” as derived from the breed of cattle which had formed the fairy maiden’s dowry.’My next informant is Mr. Hugh Derfel Hughes, of Pendinas, Ỻandegai24, who has been kind enough to give me the version, of which I here give the substance in English, premising that Mr. Hughes says that he has lived about thirty-four years within a mile of the pool and farm house called Corwrion, and that he has refreshed his memory of the legend by questioning separately no less than three old people, who had been bred and born at or near that spot. He is a native of Merioneth, but has lived at Ỻandegai for the last thirty-seven years, his age now being sixty-six. I may add that Mr. Hughes is a local antiquary of great industry and zeal; and that he published a book on the antiquities of the district, under the title ofHynafiaethau Ỻandegai a Ỻanỻechid, that is ‘the Antiquities of Ỻandegai and Ỻanỻechid’ (Bethesda, 1866); but it is out of print, and I have had some trouble to procure a copy:—‘In old times, when the fairies showed themselves much oftener to men than they do now, they made their home in the bottomless pool of Corwrion, in Upper Arỻechweđ, in that wild portion of Gwyneđ calledArfon. On fine mornings in the month of June these diminutive and nimble folk might be seen in a regular line vigorously engaged in mowing hay, with their cattle in herds busily grazing in the fields near Corwrion. This was a sight which often met the eyes of the people on the sides of the hills around, even on Sundays; but when they hurried down to them they found the fields empty, with the sham workmen and their cows gone, all gone. At other times they might be heard hammering away like miners, shovelling rubbish aside, or emptying their carts of stones. At times they took to singing all the night long, greatly to the delight of the people about, who dearly loved to hear them; and, besides singing so charmingly, they sometimes formed into companies for dancing, and their movements were marvellously graceful and attractive. But it was not safe to go too near the lake late at night, for once a brave girl, who was troubled with toothache, got up at midnight and went to the brink of the water in search of the root of a plant that grows there full of the power to kill all pain in the teeth. But, as she was plucking up a bit of it, there burst on her ear, from the depths of the lake, such a shriek as drove her back into the house breathless with fear and trembling; but whether this was not the doing of a stray fairy, who had been frightened out of her wits at being suddenly overtaken by a damsel in her nightdress, or the ordinary fairy way of curing the toothache, tradition does not tell. For sometimes, at any rate, the fairies busied themselves in doing good to the men and women who were their neighbours, as when they tried to teach them to keep all promises and covenants to which they pledged themselves. A certain man and his wife, to whom they wished to teach this good habit, have never been forgotten. The husband had been behaving ashe ought, until one day, as he held the plough, with the wife guiding his team, he broke his covenant towards her by treating her harshly and unkindly. No sooner had he done so, than he was snatched through the air and plunged in the lake. When the wife went to the brink of the water to ask for him back, the reply she had was, that he was there, and that there he should be.‘The fairies when engaged in dancing allowed themselves to be gazed at, a sight which was wont greatly to attract the young men of the neighbourhood, and once on a time the son and heir of the owner of Corwrion fell deeply in love with one of the graceful maidens who danced in the fairy ring, for she was wondrously beautiful and pretty beyond compare. His passion for her ere long resulted in courtship, and soon in their being married, which took place on the express understanding, that firstly the husband was not to know her name, though he might give her any name he chose; and, secondly, that he might now and then beat her with a rod, if she chanced to misbehave towards him; but he was not to strike her with iron on pain of her leaving him at once. This covenant was kept for some years, so that they lived happily together and had four children, of whom the two youngest were a boy and a girl. But one day as they went to one of the fields of Bryn Twrw in the direction of Pennarđ Gron, to catch a pony, the fairy wife, being so much nimbler than her husband, ran before him and had her hand in the pony’s mane in no time. She called out to her husband to throw her a halter, but instead of that he threw towards her a bridle with an iron bit, which, as bad luck would have it, struck her. The wife at once flew through the air, and plunged headlong into Corwrion Pool. The husband returnedsighing and weeping towards Bryn Twrw, “Noise Hill,” and when he had reached it, thetwrw, “noise,” there was greater than had ever been heard before, namely that of weeping after “Belenë”; and it was then, after he had struck her with iron, that he first learnt what his wife’s name was. Belenë never came back to her husband, but the feelings of a mother once brought her to the window of his bedroom, where she gave him the following order:—Os byđ anwyd ar fy mab,Rho’wch am dano gob ei dad;Os anwydog a fyđ can25,Rho’wch am dani bais ei mam.If my son should feel it cold,Let him wear his father’s coat;If the fair one feel the cold,Let her wear my petticoat.‘As years and years rolled on a grandson of Belenë’s fell in love with a beautiful damsel who lived at a neighbouring farm house called Tai Teulwriaid, and against the will of his father and mother they married, but they had nothing to stock their land with. So one morning what was their astonishment, when they got up, to see grazing quietly in the field six black cows and a white-headed bull, which had come up out of the lake as stock for them from old grannie Belenë? They served them well with milk and butter for many a long year, but on the day the last of the family died, the six black cows and the white-headed bull disappeared into the lake, never more to be seen.’Mr. Hughes referred to no less than three other versions, as follows:—(1) According to one account, the husband was ploughing, with the wife leading the team, when by chance he came across her and the accident happened. The wife then flew away like a wood-hen (iar goed) into the lake. (2) Another says that they were in a stable trying to bridle one of thehorses, when the misfortune took place through inadvertence. (3) A third specifies the field in front of the house at Corwrion as the place where the final accident took place, when they were busied with the cows and horses.To these I would add the following traditions, which Mr. Hughes further gives. Sometimes the inhabitants, who seem to have been on the whole on good terms with the fairies, used to heat water and leave it in a vessel on the hearth overnight for the fairies to wash their children in it. This they considered such a kindness that they always left behind them on the hearth a handful of their money. Some pieces are said to have been sometimes found in the fields near Corwrion, and that they consisted of coins which were smaller than our halfpennies, but bigger than farthings, and had a harp on one side. But the tradition is not very definite on these points.Here also I may as well refer to a similar tale which I got last year at Ỻanberis from a man who is a native of the Ỻanỻechid side of the mountain, though he now lives at Ỻanberis. He is about fifty-five years of age, and remembers hearing in his youth a tale connected with a house called Hafoty’r Famaeth, in a very lonely situation on Ỻanỻechid Mountain, and now represented only by some old ruined walls. It was to the effect that one night, when the man who lived there was away from home, his wife, who had a youngish baby, washed him on the hearth, left the water there, and went to bed with her little one: she woke up in the night to find that theTylwyth Tegwere in possession of the hearth, and busily engaged in washing their children. That is all I got of this tale of a well-known type.To return to Mr. Hughes’ communications, I would select from them some remarks on the topography ofthe teeming home of the fairies. He estimated the lake or pool of Corwrion to be about 120 yards long, and adds that it is nearly round; but he thinks it was formerly considerably larger, as a cutting was made some eighty or a hundred years ago to lead water from it to Penrhyn Castle; but even then its size would not approach that ascribed to it by popular belief, according to which it was no less than three miles long. In fact it was believed that there was once a town of Corwrion which was swallowed up by the lake, a sort of idea which one meets with in many parts of Wales, and some of the natives are said to be able to discern the houses under the water. This must have been near the end which is not bottomless, the latter being indicated by a spot which is said never to freeze even in hard winters. Old men remember it the resort of herons, cormorants, and the water-hen (hobi wen). Near the banks there grew, besides the water-lily, various kinds of rushes and sedges, which were formerly much used for making mats and other useful articles. It was also once famous for eels of a large size, but it is not supposed to have contained fish until Lord Penrhyn placed some there in recent years. It teemed, however, with leeches of three different kinds so recently that an old man still living describes to Mr. Hughes his simple way of catching them when he was a boy, namely, by walking bare-legged in the water: in a few minutes he landed with nine or ten leeches sticking to his legs, some of which fetched a shilling each from the medical men of those days. Corwrion is now a farm house occupied by Mr. William Griffiths, a grandson of the late bard Gutyn Peris. When Mr. Hughes called to make inquiries about the legend, he found there the foundations of several old buildings, and several pieces of old querns about the place. Hethinks that there belonged to Corwrion in former times, a mill and a fuller’s house, which he seems to infer from the names of two neighbouring houses called ‘Y Felin Hen,’ the Old Mill, and ‘Pandy Tre Garth,’ the Fulling Mill of Tregarth, respectively. He also alludes to agefailor smithy there, in which one Rhys ab Robert used to work, not to mention that a great quantity of ashes, such as come from a smithy, are found at the end of the lake furthest from the farm house. The spot on which Corwrion stands is part of the ground between the Ogwen and another stream which bears the name of ‘Afon Cegin Arthur,’ or the River of Arthur’s Kitchen, and most of the houses and fields about have names which have suggested various notions to the people there: such are the farms called ‘Coed Howel,’ whence the belief in the neighbourhood that Howel Đa, King of Wales, lived here. About him Mr. Hughes has a great deal to say: among other things, that he had boats on Corwrion lake, and that he was wont to present the citizens of Bangor yearly with 300 fat geese reared on the waters of the same. I am referred by another man to a lecture delivered in the neighbourhood on these and similar things by the late bard and antiquary the Rev. Robert Ellis (Cynđelw), but I have never come across a copy. A field near Corwrion is called ‘Cae Stabal,’ or the Field of the Stable, which contains the remains of a row of stables, as it is supposed, and of a number of mangers where Howel’s horses were once fed. In a neighbouring wood, called ‘Parc y Geỻi’ or ‘Hopiar y Geỻi,’ my informant goes on to say, there are to be seen the foundations of seventeen or eighteen old hut-circles, and near them some think they see the site of an old church. About a mile to the south-east of Corwrion is Pendinas, which Mr. Hughes describes asan old triangular Welsh fortress, on the bank of the Ogwen; and within two stone’s-throws or so of Corwrion on the south side of it, and a little to the west of Bryn Twrw mentioned in the legend, is situated Penarđ Gron, acaeror fort, which he describes as being, before it was razed in his time, forty-two yards long by thirty-two wide, and defended by a sort of rampart of earth and stone several yards wide at the base. It used to be the resort of the country people for dancing, cock-fighting26, and other amusements on Sundays. Near it was a cairn, which, when it was dug into, was found to cover a kistvaen, a pot, and a quern: a variety of tales attaching to it are told concerning ghosts, caves, and hidden treasures. Altogether Mr. Hughes is strongly of opinion that Corwrion and its immediate surroundings represent a spot which at one time had great importance; and I see no reason wholly to doubt the correctness of that conclusion, but it would be interesting to know whether Penrhyn used, as Mr. Hughes suggests, to be called Penrhyn Corwrion; there ought, perhaps, to be no great difficulty in ascertaining this, as some of the Penrhyn estate appears to have been the subject of litigation in times gone by.Before leaving Mr. Hughes’ notes, I must here give his too brief account of another thing connected with Corwrion, though, perhaps, not with the legends here in question. I allude to what he calls the Lantern Ghost (Ysbryd y Lantar):—‘There used to be formerly,’ he says, ‘and there is still at Corwrion, a good-sized sour apple-tree, which during the winter half of the year used to be lit up by fire. It began slowly andgrew greater until the whole seemed to be in a blaze. He was told by an old woman that she formerly knew old people who declared they had seen it. In the same way the trees in Hopiar y Geỻi appeared, according to them, to be also lit up with fire.’ This reminds me of Mr. Fitzgerald’s account of the Irish Bile-Tineadh in theRevue Celtique, iv. 194.After communicating to me the notes of which the foregoing are abstracts, Mr. Hughes kindly got me a version of the legend from Mr. David Thomas, of Pont y Wern, in the same neighbourhood, but as it contains nothing which I have not already given from Mr. Hughes’ own, I pass it by. Mr. Thomas, however, has heard that the number of the houses making up the town of Corwrion some six or seven centuries ago was about seventy-five; but they were exactly seventy-three according to my next informant, Mr. David Evan Davies, of Treflys, Bethesda, better known by his bardic name of Dewi Glan Ffrydlas. Both these gentlemen have also heard the tradition that there was a church at Corwrion, where there used to be every Sunday a single service, after which the people went to a spot not far off to amuse themselves, and at night to watch the fairies dancing, or to mix with them while they danced in a ring around a glow-worm. According to Dewi Glan Ffrydlas, the spot was the Pen y Bonc, already mentioned, which means, among other things, that they chose a rising ground. This is referred to in a modern rhyme, which runs thus:—A’r Tylwyth Teg yn dawnsio’n sioncO gylch magïen Pen y Bonc.With the fairies nimbly dancing roundThe glow-worm on the Rising Ground.Dewi Glan Ffrydlas has kindly gone to the trouble of giving me a brief, but complete, version of the legend as he has heard it. It will be noticed that the discoveringof the fairy’s name is an idle incident in this version: it is brought in too late, and no use is made of it when introduced. This is the substance of his story in English:—‘At one of the dances at Pen y Bonc, the heir of Corwrion’s eyes fell on one of the damsels of the fair family, and he was filled with love for her. Courtship and marriage indue timeensued, but he had to agree to two conditions, namely, that he was neither to know her name nor to strike her with iron. By-and-by they had children, and when the husband happened to go, during his wife’s confinement, to a merry-making at Pen y Bonc, the fairies talked together concerning his wife, and in expressing their feelings of sympathy for her, they inadvertently betrayed the mystery of her name by mentioning it within his hearing. Years rolled on, when the husband and wife went out together one day to catch a colt of theirs that had not been broken in, their object being to go to Conway Fair. Now, as she was swifter of foot than her husband, she got hold of the colt by the mane, and called out to him to throw her a halter, but instead of throwing her the one she asked for, he threw another with iron in it, which struck her. Off she went into the lake. A grandson of this fairy many years afterwards married one of the girls of Corwrion. They had a large piece of land, but no means of stocking it, so that they felt rather distressed in their minds. But lo and behold! one day a white-headed bull came out of the lake, bringing with him six black cows to their land. There never were the like of those cows for milk, and great was the prosperity of their owners, as well as the envy it kindled in their neighbours’ breasts. But when they both grew old and died, the bull and the cows went back into the lake.’Now I add the other sayings about theTylwyth Teg,which Dewi Glan Ffrydlas has kindly collected for me, beginning with a blurred story about changelings:—‘Once on a time, in the fourteenth century, the wife of a man at Corwrion had twins, and she complained one day to a witch, who lived close by, at Tyđyn y Barcud, that the children were not getting on, but that they were always crying day and night. “Are you sure that they are your children?” asked the witch, adding that it did not seem to her that they were like hers. “I have my doubts also,” said the mother. “I wonder if somebody has exchanged children with you,” said the witch. “I do not know,” said the mother. “But why do you not seek to know?” asked the other. “But how am I to go about it?” said the mother. The witch replied, “Go and do something rather strange before their eyes and watch what they will say to one another.” “Well, I do not know what I should do,” said the mother. “Well,” said the other, “take an egg-shell, and proceed to brew beer in it in a chamber aside, and come here to tell me what the children will say about it.” She went home and did as the witch had directed her, when the two children lifted their heads out of the cradle to find what she was doing—to watch and to listen. Then one observed to the other, “I remember seeing an oak having an acorn,” to which the other replied, “And I remember seeing a hen having an egg”; and one of the two added, “But I do not remember before seeing anybody brew beer in the shell of a hen’s egg.” The mother then went to the witch and told her what the twins had said one to the other; and she directed her to go to a small wooden bridge, not far off, with one of the strange children under each arm, and there to drop them from the bridge into the river beneath. The mother went back home again and did as she had been directed. When she reached homethis time, she found to her astonishment that her own children had been brought back.’Next comes a story about a midwife who lived at Corwrion. ‘One of the fairies called to ask her to come and attend on his wife. Off she went with him, and she was astonished to be taken into a splendid palace. There she continued to go night and morning to dress the baby for some time, until one day the husband asked her to rub her eyes with a certain ointment he offered her. She did so, and found herself sitting on a tuft of rushes, and not in a palace. There was no baby: all had disappeared. Some time afterwards she happened to go to the town, and whom should she there see busily buying various wares, but the fairy on whose wife she had been attending. She addressed him with the question, “How are you to-day?” Instead of answering her, he asked, “How do you see me?” “With my eyes,” was the prompt reply. “Which eye?” he asked. “This one,” said the woman, pointing to it; and instantly he disappeared, never more to be seen by her.’ This tale, as will be seen on comparison later, is incomplete, and probably incorrect.Here is another from Mr. D. E. Davies:—‘One day Guto, the farmer of Corwrion, complained to his wife that he lacked men to mow his hay, when she replied, “Why fret about it? look yonder! There you have a field full of them at it, and stripped to their shirt-sleeves (yn ỻewys eu crysau).” When he went to the spot the sham workmen of the fairy family had disappeared. This same Guto—or somebody else—happened another time to be ploughing, when he heard some person he could not see, calling out to him, “I have got thebins(that is thevice) of my plough broken.” “Bring it to me,” said the driver of Guto’s team, “that I may mend it.” When they finished the furrow, they found thebroken vice, with a barrel of beer placed near it. One of the men sat down and mended the vice. Then they made another furrow, and when they returned to the spot they found there a two-eared dish filled to the brim withbara a chwrw, or “bread and beer.” The wordvice, I may observe, is an English term, which is applied in Carnarvonshire to a certain part of the plough: it is otherwise calledbins, but neither does this seem to be a Welsh word, nor have I heard either used in South Wales.At times one of the fairies was in the habit, as I was told by more than one of my informants, of coming out of Ỻyn Corwrion with her spinning-wheel (troeỻ bach) on fine summer days and betaking herself to spinning. While at that work she might be heard constantly singing or humming, in a sort of round tune, the wordssìli ffrit. So thatsìli ffrit Leisa Bèlamay now be heard from the mouths of the children in that neighbourhood. But I have not been successful in finding out what Liza Bella’s ‘silly frit’ exactly means, though I am, on the whole, convinced that the words are other than of Welsh origin. The last of them,ffrit, is usually applied in Cardiganshire to anything worthless or insignificant, and the derivative,ffrityn, means one who has no go or perseverance in him: the feminine isffriten. In Carnarvonshire my wife has heardffritynandffritanapplied to a small man and a small woman respectively. Mr. Hughes says that in Merioneth and parts of Powyssìli ffritis a term applied to a small woman or a female dwarf who happens to be proud, vain, and fond of the attentions of the other sex (benyw fach neu goraches falch a hunanol a fyđai hoff o garu); but he thinks he has heard it made use of with regard to the gipsies, and possibly also to theTylwyth Teg. The Rev. O.Davies thinks the wordssìli ffrit Leisa Bèlato be very modern, and that they refer to a young woman who lived at a place in the neighbourhood, called Bryn Bèla or Brymbèla, ‘Bella’s Hill,’ the point being that this Bella was ahead, in her time, of all the girls in those parts in matters of taste and fashion. This however does not seem to go far enough back, and it is possible still that inBèla, that is, in English spelling,Bella, we have merely a shortening of some such a name as Isabella or Arabella, which were once much more popular in the Principality than they are now: in fact, I do not feel sure thatLeisa Bèlais not bodily a corruption ofIsabella. As tosìli ffrit, one might at first have been inclined to render it by small fry, especially in the sense of the French ‘de la friture’ as applied to young men and boys, and to connect it with the Welshsilandsilod, which mean small fish; but the pronunciation ofsilliorsìlibeing nearly that of the English wordsilly, it appears, on the whole, to belong to the host of English words to be found in colloquial Welsh, though they seldom find their way into books. Students of English ought to be able to tell us whetherfrithad the meaning here suggested in any part of England, and how lately; also, whether there was such a phrase as ‘silly frit’ in use. After penning this, I received the following interesting communication from Mr. William Jones, of Ỻangoỻen:—The termsìli ffritwas formerly in use at Beđgelert, and what was thereby meant was a child of theTylwyth Teg. It is still used for any creature that is smaller than ordinary. ‘Pooh, a silly frit like that!’ (Pw, rhyw sìli ffrit fel yna!). ‘Mrs. So-and-So has a fine child.’ ‘Ha, do you call a silly frit like that a fine child?’ (Mae gan hon a hon blentyn braf. Ho, a ydych chwi’n galw rhyw sìli ffrit fel hwnna’nbraf?) To return to Leisa Bèla and Belenë, it may be that the same person was meant by both these names, but I am in no hurry to identify them, as none of my correspondents knows the latter of them except Mr. Hughes, who gives it on the authority of the bard Gutyn Peris, and nothing further so far as I can understand, whereas Bèla will come before us in another story, as it is the same name, I presume, which Glasynys has spelledBellainCymru Fu.So I wrote in 1881: since then I have ascertained from Professor Joseph Wright, who is busily engaged on his greatEnglish Dialect Dictionary, thatfrit27is the same word, in the dialects of Cheshire, Shropshire, and Pembrokeshire, asfrightin literary English; and that the corresponding verb tofrightenis in themfritten, while afrittenin(= the book Englishfrightening) means a ghost or apparition. Sosìli ffritis simply the Englishsilly frit, and means probably a silly sprite or silly ghost, andsìli ffrit Leisa Bèlawould mean the silly ghost of a woman called Liza Bella. But the silly frit found spinning near Corwrion Pool will come under notice again, for that fairy belongs to the Rumpelstiltzchen group of tales, and the fragment of a story about her will be seen to have treated Silly Frit as her proper name, which she had not intended to reach the ears of the person of whom she was trying to get the better.These tales are brought into connexion with the present day in more ways than one, for besides the various accounts of thebwganodor bogies of Corwrion frightening people when out late at night, Mr. D. E. Davies knows a man, who is still living, and whowell remembers the time when the sound of working used to be heard in the pool, and the voices of children crying somewhere in its depths, but that when people rushed there to see what the matter was, all was found profoundly quiet and still. Moreover, there is a family or two, now numerously represented in the parishes of Ỻandegai and Ỻanỻechid, who used to be taunted with being the offspring of fairy ancestors. One of these families was nicknamed ‘Simychiaid’ or ‘Smychiaid’; and my informant, who is not yet quite forty, says that he heard his mother repeat scores of times that the old people used to say, that the Smychiaid, who were very numerous in the neighbourhood, were descended from fairies, and that they came from Ỻyn Corwrion. At all this the Smychiaid were wont to grow mightily angry. Another tradition, he says, about them was that they were a wandering family that arrived in the district from the direction of Conway, and that the father’s name was a Simwch, or rather that was his nickname, based on the proper name Simwnt, which appears to have once been the prevalent name in Ỻandegai. The historical order of these words would in that case have beenSimwnt,Simwch,Simychiaid,Smychiaid. NowSimwntseems to be merely the Welsh form given to some such English name asSimond, just asEdmundorEdmondbecomes in North WalesEmwnt. The objection to the nickname seems to lie in the fact, which one of my correspondents points out to me, that Simwch is understood to mean a monkey, a point on which I should like to have further information. Pughe givessimach, it is true, as having the meaning of the Latinsimia. A branch of the same family is said to be called ‘y Cowperiaid’ or the Coopers, from an ancestor who was either by name or by trade a cooper.Mr. Hughes’ account of the Smychiaid was, that they are the descendants of one Simonds, who came to be a bailiff at Bodysgaỻan, near Deganwy, and moved from there to Coetmor in the neighbourhood of Corwrion. Simonds was obnoxious to the bards, he goes on to say, and they described the Smychiaid as having arrived in the parish at the bottom of acaweỻ, ‘a creel or basket carried on the back,’ when chance would have it that thecaweỻcord snapped just in that neighbourhood, at a place called Pont y Ỻan. That accident is described, according to Mr. Hughes, in the following doggerel, the origin of which I do not know—E dorai ’r arwest, ede wan,Brwnt y ỻe, ar Bont y Ỻan.The cord would snap, feeble yarn,At that nasty spot, Pont y Ỻan.Curiously enough, the samecaweỻstory used to be said of a widely spread family in North Cardiganshire, whose surname was pronounced Massn and written Mason or Mazon: as my mother was of this family, I have often heard it. Thecaweỻ, if I remember rightly, was said, in this instance, to have come from Scotland, to which were traced three men who settled in North Cardiganshire. One had no descendants, but the other two, Mason and Peel—I think his name was Peel, but I am only sure that it was not Welsh—had so many, that the Masons, at any rate, are exceedingly numerous there; but a great many of them, owing to some extent, probably, to thecaweỻstory, have been silly enough to change their name into that of Jones, some of them in my time. The three men came there probably for refuge in the course of troubles in Scotland, as a Frazer and a Francis did to Anglesey. At any rate, I have never heard it suggested that they were of aquatic origin, but, taking thecaweỻinto consideration, and the popular account ofthe Smychiaid, I should be inclined to think that thecaweỻoriginally referred to some such a supposed descent. I only hope that somebody will help us with another and a longercaweỻtale, which will make up for the brevity of these allusions. We may, however, assume, I think, that there was a tendency at one time in Gwyneđ, if not in other parts of the Principality, to believe, or pretend to believe, that the descendants of an Englishman or Scotsman, who settled among the old inhabitants, were of fairy origin, and that their history was somehow uncanny, which was all, of course, duly resented. This helps, to some extent, to explain how names of doubtful origin have got into these tales, such asSmychiaid,Cowperiaid,Pellings,Penelope,Leisa BèlaorIsabella, and the like. This association of the lake legends with intruders from without is what has, perhaps, in a great measure served to rescue such legends from utter oblivion.As to a church at Corwrion, the tradition does not seem to be an old one, and it appears founded on one of the popular etymologies of the word Corwrion, which treats the first syllable ascorin the sense of a choir; but the word has other meanings, including among them that of an ox-stall or enclosure for cattle. Taking this as coming near the true explanation, it at once suggests itself, that Creuwyryon in theMabinogiof Math ab Mathonwy is the same place, forcreuorcraualso meant an enclosure for animals, including swine. In Irish the word iscró, an enclosure, a hut or hovel. The passage in theMabinogi28relates to Gwydion returning with the swine he had got by dint of magic and deceit from Pryderi, prince of Dyfed, and runs thus in Lady Charlotte Guest’s translation: ‘So they journeyed on to the highest town of Arỻechweđ,and there they made a sty (creu) for the swine, and therefore was the name of Creuwyryon given to that town.’ As towyryonorwyrion, which we find made intowrionin Corwrion according to the modern habit, it would seem to be no other word than the usual plural ofwyr, a grandson, formerly also any descendant in the direct line. If so, the name of an ancestor must have originally followed, just as one of the places called Bettws was onceBetws Wyrion Iđon, ‘the Bettws of Iđon’s Descendants’; but it is possible thatwyrionin Creu- or Cor-wyrion was itself a man’s name, though I have never met with it. It is right to add that the name appears in theRecord of Carnarvon(pp. 12, 25, 26) as Creweryon, which carries us back to the first half of the fourteenth century. There it occurs as the name of a township containing eight gavels, and the particulars about it might, in the hand of one familiar with the tenures of that time, perhaps give us valuable information as to what may have been its status at a still earlier date.

V.The Rev. O. Davies regarded the Ỻanỻechid legend as so very like the one he got about Cweỻyn Lake and the Waen Fawr, that he has not written the former out at length, but merely pointed out the following differences: (1) Instead of Cweỻyn, the lake in the former is the pool of Corwrion, in the parish of Ỻandegai, near Bangor. (2) What the Lake Lady was struck with wasnot a bridle, but an iron fetter: the word used isỻyfether, which probably means a long fetter connecting a fore-foot and a hind-foot of a horse together. In Arfon, the word is applied also to a cord tying the two fore-feet together, but in Cardiganshire this would be called ahual, the other word, there pronouncedllowethir, being confined to the long fetter. In books, the word is writtenllywethair,llefethairandllyffethairorllyffethar, which is possibly the pronunciation in parts of North Wales, especially Arfon. This is an interesting word, as it is no other than the English term ‘long fetter,’ borrowed into Welsh; as, in fact, it was also into Irish early enough to call for an article on it in Cormac’sIrish Glossary, wherelangfiteris described as an English word for a fetter between the fore and the hind legs: in Anglo-Manx it is becomelanketer. (3) The field in which they were trying to catch the horse is, in the Ỻanỻechid version, specified as that called Maes Madog, at the foot of the Ỻefn. (4) When the fairy wife ran away, it was headlong into the pool of Corwrion, calling after her all her milch cows, and they followed her with the utmost readiness.Before going on to mention bits of information I have received from others about the Ỻanỻechid legend, I think it best here to finish with the items given me by Mr. O. Davies, whom I cannot too cordially thank for his readiness to answer my questions. Among other things, he expresses himself to the following effect:— ‘It is to this day a tradition—and I have heard it a hundred times—that the dairy of Corwrion excelled all other dairies in those parts, that the milk was better and more plentiful, and that the cheese and butter were better there than in all the country round, the reason assigned being that the cattle on the farm of Corwrion had mixed with the breed belonging to the fairy, whohad run away after being struck with the iron fetter. However that may be, I remember perfectly well the high terms of praise in which the cows of Corwrion used to be spoken of as being remarkable for their milk and the profit they yielded; and, when I was a boy, I used to hear people talk ofTarw Penwyn Corwrion, or “the White-headed Bull of Corwrion,” as derived from the breed of cattle which had formed the fairy maiden’s dowry.’My next informant is Mr. Hugh Derfel Hughes, of Pendinas, Ỻandegai24, who has been kind enough to give me the version, of which I here give the substance in English, premising that Mr. Hughes says that he has lived about thirty-four years within a mile of the pool and farm house called Corwrion, and that he has refreshed his memory of the legend by questioning separately no less than three old people, who had been bred and born at or near that spot. He is a native of Merioneth, but has lived at Ỻandegai for the last thirty-seven years, his age now being sixty-six. I may add that Mr. Hughes is a local antiquary of great industry and zeal; and that he published a book on the antiquities of the district, under the title ofHynafiaethau Ỻandegai a Ỻanỻechid, that is ‘the Antiquities of Ỻandegai and Ỻanỻechid’ (Bethesda, 1866); but it is out of print, and I have had some trouble to procure a copy:—‘In old times, when the fairies showed themselves much oftener to men than they do now, they made their home in the bottomless pool of Corwrion, in Upper Arỻechweđ, in that wild portion of Gwyneđ calledArfon. On fine mornings in the month of June these diminutive and nimble folk might be seen in a regular line vigorously engaged in mowing hay, with their cattle in herds busily grazing in the fields near Corwrion. This was a sight which often met the eyes of the people on the sides of the hills around, even on Sundays; but when they hurried down to them they found the fields empty, with the sham workmen and their cows gone, all gone. At other times they might be heard hammering away like miners, shovelling rubbish aside, or emptying their carts of stones. At times they took to singing all the night long, greatly to the delight of the people about, who dearly loved to hear them; and, besides singing so charmingly, they sometimes formed into companies for dancing, and their movements were marvellously graceful and attractive. But it was not safe to go too near the lake late at night, for once a brave girl, who was troubled with toothache, got up at midnight and went to the brink of the water in search of the root of a plant that grows there full of the power to kill all pain in the teeth. But, as she was plucking up a bit of it, there burst on her ear, from the depths of the lake, such a shriek as drove her back into the house breathless with fear and trembling; but whether this was not the doing of a stray fairy, who had been frightened out of her wits at being suddenly overtaken by a damsel in her nightdress, or the ordinary fairy way of curing the toothache, tradition does not tell. For sometimes, at any rate, the fairies busied themselves in doing good to the men and women who were their neighbours, as when they tried to teach them to keep all promises and covenants to which they pledged themselves. A certain man and his wife, to whom they wished to teach this good habit, have never been forgotten. The husband had been behaving ashe ought, until one day, as he held the plough, with the wife guiding his team, he broke his covenant towards her by treating her harshly and unkindly. No sooner had he done so, than he was snatched through the air and plunged in the lake. When the wife went to the brink of the water to ask for him back, the reply she had was, that he was there, and that there he should be.‘The fairies when engaged in dancing allowed themselves to be gazed at, a sight which was wont greatly to attract the young men of the neighbourhood, and once on a time the son and heir of the owner of Corwrion fell deeply in love with one of the graceful maidens who danced in the fairy ring, for she was wondrously beautiful and pretty beyond compare. His passion for her ere long resulted in courtship, and soon in their being married, which took place on the express understanding, that firstly the husband was not to know her name, though he might give her any name he chose; and, secondly, that he might now and then beat her with a rod, if she chanced to misbehave towards him; but he was not to strike her with iron on pain of her leaving him at once. This covenant was kept for some years, so that they lived happily together and had four children, of whom the two youngest were a boy and a girl. But one day as they went to one of the fields of Bryn Twrw in the direction of Pennarđ Gron, to catch a pony, the fairy wife, being so much nimbler than her husband, ran before him and had her hand in the pony’s mane in no time. She called out to her husband to throw her a halter, but instead of that he threw towards her a bridle with an iron bit, which, as bad luck would have it, struck her. The wife at once flew through the air, and plunged headlong into Corwrion Pool. The husband returnedsighing and weeping towards Bryn Twrw, “Noise Hill,” and when he had reached it, thetwrw, “noise,” there was greater than had ever been heard before, namely that of weeping after “Belenë”; and it was then, after he had struck her with iron, that he first learnt what his wife’s name was. Belenë never came back to her husband, but the feelings of a mother once brought her to the window of his bedroom, where she gave him the following order:—Os byđ anwyd ar fy mab,Rho’wch am dano gob ei dad;Os anwydog a fyđ can25,Rho’wch am dani bais ei mam.If my son should feel it cold,Let him wear his father’s coat;If the fair one feel the cold,Let her wear my petticoat.‘As years and years rolled on a grandson of Belenë’s fell in love with a beautiful damsel who lived at a neighbouring farm house called Tai Teulwriaid, and against the will of his father and mother they married, but they had nothing to stock their land with. So one morning what was their astonishment, when they got up, to see grazing quietly in the field six black cows and a white-headed bull, which had come up out of the lake as stock for them from old grannie Belenë? They served them well with milk and butter for many a long year, but on the day the last of the family died, the six black cows and the white-headed bull disappeared into the lake, never more to be seen.’Mr. Hughes referred to no less than three other versions, as follows:—(1) According to one account, the husband was ploughing, with the wife leading the team, when by chance he came across her and the accident happened. The wife then flew away like a wood-hen (iar goed) into the lake. (2) Another says that they were in a stable trying to bridle one of thehorses, when the misfortune took place through inadvertence. (3) A third specifies the field in front of the house at Corwrion as the place where the final accident took place, when they were busied with the cows and horses.To these I would add the following traditions, which Mr. Hughes further gives. Sometimes the inhabitants, who seem to have been on the whole on good terms with the fairies, used to heat water and leave it in a vessel on the hearth overnight for the fairies to wash their children in it. This they considered such a kindness that they always left behind them on the hearth a handful of their money. Some pieces are said to have been sometimes found in the fields near Corwrion, and that they consisted of coins which were smaller than our halfpennies, but bigger than farthings, and had a harp on one side. But the tradition is not very definite on these points.Here also I may as well refer to a similar tale which I got last year at Ỻanberis from a man who is a native of the Ỻanỻechid side of the mountain, though he now lives at Ỻanberis. He is about fifty-five years of age, and remembers hearing in his youth a tale connected with a house called Hafoty’r Famaeth, in a very lonely situation on Ỻanỻechid Mountain, and now represented only by some old ruined walls. It was to the effect that one night, when the man who lived there was away from home, his wife, who had a youngish baby, washed him on the hearth, left the water there, and went to bed with her little one: she woke up in the night to find that theTylwyth Tegwere in possession of the hearth, and busily engaged in washing their children. That is all I got of this tale of a well-known type.To return to Mr. Hughes’ communications, I would select from them some remarks on the topography ofthe teeming home of the fairies. He estimated the lake or pool of Corwrion to be about 120 yards long, and adds that it is nearly round; but he thinks it was formerly considerably larger, as a cutting was made some eighty or a hundred years ago to lead water from it to Penrhyn Castle; but even then its size would not approach that ascribed to it by popular belief, according to which it was no less than three miles long. In fact it was believed that there was once a town of Corwrion which was swallowed up by the lake, a sort of idea which one meets with in many parts of Wales, and some of the natives are said to be able to discern the houses under the water. This must have been near the end which is not bottomless, the latter being indicated by a spot which is said never to freeze even in hard winters. Old men remember it the resort of herons, cormorants, and the water-hen (hobi wen). Near the banks there grew, besides the water-lily, various kinds of rushes and sedges, which were formerly much used for making mats and other useful articles. It was also once famous for eels of a large size, but it is not supposed to have contained fish until Lord Penrhyn placed some there in recent years. It teemed, however, with leeches of three different kinds so recently that an old man still living describes to Mr. Hughes his simple way of catching them when he was a boy, namely, by walking bare-legged in the water: in a few minutes he landed with nine or ten leeches sticking to his legs, some of which fetched a shilling each from the medical men of those days. Corwrion is now a farm house occupied by Mr. William Griffiths, a grandson of the late bard Gutyn Peris. When Mr. Hughes called to make inquiries about the legend, he found there the foundations of several old buildings, and several pieces of old querns about the place. Hethinks that there belonged to Corwrion in former times, a mill and a fuller’s house, which he seems to infer from the names of two neighbouring houses called ‘Y Felin Hen,’ the Old Mill, and ‘Pandy Tre Garth,’ the Fulling Mill of Tregarth, respectively. He also alludes to agefailor smithy there, in which one Rhys ab Robert used to work, not to mention that a great quantity of ashes, such as come from a smithy, are found at the end of the lake furthest from the farm house. The spot on which Corwrion stands is part of the ground between the Ogwen and another stream which bears the name of ‘Afon Cegin Arthur,’ or the River of Arthur’s Kitchen, and most of the houses and fields about have names which have suggested various notions to the people there: such are the farms called ‘Coed Howel,’ whence the belief in the neighbourhood that Howel Đa, King of Wales, lived here. About him Mr. Hughes has a great deal to say: among other things, that he had boats on Corwrion lake, and that he was wont to present the citizens of Bangor yearly with 300 fat geese reared on the waters of the same. I am referred by another man to a lecture delivered in the neighbourhood on these and similar things by the late bard and antiquary the Rev. Robert Ellis (Cynđelw), but I have never come across a copy. A field near Corwrion is called ‘Cae Stabal,’ or the Field of the Stable, which contains the remains of a row of stables, as it is supposed, and of a number of mangers where Howel’s horses were once fed. In a neighbouring wood, called ‘Parc y Geỻi’ or ‘Hopiar y Geỻi,’ my informant goes on to say, there are to be seen the foundations of seventeen or eighteen old hut-circles, and near them some think they see the site of an old church. About a mile to the south-east of Corwrion is Pendinas, which Mr. Hughes describes asan old triangular Welsh fortress, on the bank of the Ogwen; and within two stone’s-throws or so of Corwrion on the south side of it, and a little to the west of Bryn Twrw mentioned in the legend, is situated Penarđ Gron, acaeror fort, which he describes as being, before it was razed in his time, forty-two yards long by thirty-two wide, and defended by a sort of rampart of earth and stone several yards wide at the base. It used to be the resort of the country people for dancing, cock-fighting26, and other amusements on Sundays. Near it was a cairn, which, when it was dug into, was found to cover a kistvaen, a pot, and a quern: a variety of tales attaching to it are told concerning ghosts, caves, and hidden treasures. Altogether Mr. Hughes is strongly of opinion that Corwrion and its immediate surroundings represent a spot which at one time had great importance; and I see no reason wholly to doubt the correctness of that conclusion, but it would be interesting to know whether Penrhyn used, as Mr. Hughes suggests, to be called Penrhyn Corwrion; there ought, perhaps, to be no great difficulty in ascertaining this, as some of the Penrhyn estate appears to have been the subject of litigation in times gone by.Before leaving Mr. Hughes’ notes, I must here give his too brief account of another thing connected with Corwrion, though, perhaps, not with the legends here in question. I allude to what he calls the Lantern Ghost (Ysbryd y Lantar):—‘There used to be formerly,’ he says, ‘and there is still at Corwrion, a good-sized sour apple-tree, which during the winter half of the year used to be lit up by fire. It began slowly andgrew greater until the whole seemed to be in a blaze. He was told by an old woman that she formerly knew old people who declared they had seen it. In the same way the trees in Hopiar y Geỻi appeared, according to them, to be also lit up with fire.’ This reminds me of Mr. Fitzgerald’s account of the Irish Bile-Tineadh in theRevue Celtique, iv. 194.After communicating to me the notes of which the foregoing are abstracts, Mr. Hughes kindly got me a version of the legend from Mr. David Thomas, of Pont y Wern, in the same neighbourhood, but as it contains nothing which I have not already given from Mr. Hughes’ own, I pass it by. Mr. Thomas, however, has heard that the number of the houses making up the town of Corwrion some six or seven centuries ago was about seventy-five; but they were exactly seventy-three according to my next informant, Mr. David Evan Davies, of Treflys, Bethesda, better known by his bardic name of Dewi Glan Ffrydlas. Both these gentlemen have also heard the tradition that there was a church at Corwrion, where there used to be every Sunday a single service, after which the people went to a spot not far off to amuse themselves, and at night to watch the fairies dancing, or to mix with them while they danced in a ring around a glow-worm. According to Dewi Glan Ffrydlas, the spot was the Pen y Bonc, already mentioned, which means, among other things, that they chose a rising ground. This is referred to in a modern rhyme, which runs thus:—A’r Tylwyth Teg yn dawnsio’n sioncO gylch magïen Pen y Bonc.With the fairies nimbly dancing roundThe glow-worm on the Rising Ground.Dewi Glan Ffrydlas has kindly gone to the trouble of giving me a brief, but complete, version of the legend as he has heard it. It will be noticed that the discoveringof the fairy’s name is an idle incident in this version: it is brought in too late, and no use is made of it when introduced. This is the substance of his story in English:—‘At one of the dances at Pen y Bonc, the heir of Corwrion’s eyes fell on one of the damsels of the fair family, and he was filled with love for her. Courtship and marriage indue timeensued, but he had to agree to two conditions, namely, that he was neither to know her name nor to strike her with iron. By-and-by they had children, and when the husband happened to go, during his wife’s confinement, to a merry-making at Pen y Bonc, the fairies talked together concerning his wife, and in expressing their feelings of sympathy for her, they inadvertently betrayed the mystery of her name by mentioning it within his hearing. Years rolled on, when the husband and wife went out together one day to catch a colt of theirs that had not been broken in, their object being to go to Conway Fair. Now, as she was swifter of foot than her husband, she got hold of the colt by the mane, and called out to him to throw her a halter, but instead of throwing her the one she asked for, he threw another with iron in it, which struck her. Off she went into the lake. A grandson of this fairy many years afterwards married one of the girls of Corwrion. They had a large piece of land, but no means of stocking it, so that they felt rather distressed in their minds. But lo and behold! one day a white-headed bull came out of the lake, bringing with him six black cows to their land. There never were the like of those cows for milk, and great was the prosperity of their owners, as well as the envy it kindled in their neighbours’ breasts. But when they both grew old and died, the bull and the cows went back into the lake.’Now I add the other sayings about theTylwyth Teg,which Dewi Glan Ffrydlas has kindly collected for me, beginning with a blurred story about changelings:—‘Once on a time, in the fourteenth century, the wife of a man at Corwrion had twins, and she complained one day to a witch, who lived close by, at Tyđyn y Barcud, that the children were not getting on, but that they were always crying day and night. “Are you sure that they are your children?” asked the witch, adding that it did not seem to her that they were like hers. “I have my doubts also,” said the mother. “I wonder if somebody has exchanged children with you,” said the witch. “I do not know,” said the mother. “But why do you not seek to know?” asked the other. “But how am I to go about it?” said the mother. The witch replied, “Go and do something rather strange before their eyes and watch what they will say to one another.” “Well, I do not know what I should do,” said the mother. “Well,” said the other, “take an egg-shell, and proceed to brew beer in it in a chamber aside, and come here to tell me what the children will say about it.” She went home and did as the witch had directed her, when the two children lifted their heads out of the cradle to find what she was doing—to watch and to listen. Then one observed to the other, “I remember seeing an oak having an acorn,” to which the other replied, “And I remember seeing a hen having an egg”; and one of the two added, “But I do not remember before seeing anybody brew beer in the shell of a hen’s egg.” The mother then went to the witch and told her what the twins had said one to the other; and she directed her to go to a small wooden bridge, not far off, with one of the strange children under each arm, and there to drop them from the bridge into the river beneath. The mother went back home again and did as she had been directed. When she reached homethis time, she found to her astonishment that her own children had been brought back.’Next comes a story about a midwife who lived at Corwrion. ‘One of the fairies called to ask her to come and attend on his wife. Off she went with him, and she was astonished to be taken into a splendid palace. There she continued to go night and morning to dress the baby for some time, until one day the husband asked her to rub her eyes with a certain ointment he offered her. She did so, and found herself sitting on a tuft of rushes, and not in a palace. There was no baby: all had disappeared. Some time afterwards she happened to go to the town, and whom should she there see busily buying various wares, but the fairy on whose wife she had been attending. She addressed him with the question, “How are you to-day?” Instead of answering her, he asked, “How do you see me?” “With my eyes,” was the prompt reply. “Which eye?” he asked. “This one,” said the woman, pointing to it; and instantly he disappeared, never more to be seen by her.’ This tale, as will be seen on comparison later, is incomplete, and probably incorrect.Here is another from Mr. D. E. Davies:—‘One day Guto, the farmer of Corwrion, complained to his wife that he lacked men to mow his hay, when she replied, “Why fret about it? look yonder! There you have a field full of them at it, and stripped to their shirt-sleeves (yn ỻewys eu crysau).” When he went to the spot the sham workmen of the fairy family had disappeared. This same Guto—or somebody else—happened another time to be ploughing, when he heard some person he could not see, calling out to him, “I have got thebins(that is thevice) of my plough broken.” “Bring it to me,” said the driver of Guto’s team, “that I may mend it.” When they finished the furrow, they found thebroken vice, with a barrel of beer placed near it. One of the men sat down and mended the vice. Then they made another furrow, and when they returned to the spot they found there a two-eared dish filled to the brim withbara a chwrw, or “bread and beer.” The wordvice, I may observe, is an English term, which is applied in Carnarvonshire to a certain part of the plough: it is otherwise calledbins, but neither does this seem to be a Welsh word, nor have I heard either used in South Wales.At times one of the fairies was in the habit, as I was told by more than one of my informants, of coming out of Ỻyn Corwrion with her spinning-wheel (troeỻ bach) on fine summer days and betaking herself to spinning. While at that work she might be heard constantly singing or humming, in a sort of round tune, the wordssìli ffrit. So thatsìli ffrit Leisa Bèlamay now be heard from the mouths of the children in that neighbourhood. But I have not been successful in finding out what Liza Bella’s ‘silly frit’ exactly means, though I am, on the whole, convinced that the words are other than of Welsh origin. The last of them,ffrit, is usually applied in Cardiganshire to anything worthless or insignificant, and the derivative,ffrityn, means one who has no go or perseverance in him: the feminine isffriten. In Carnarvonshire my wife has heardffritynandffritanapplied to a small man and a small woman respectively. Mr. Hughes says that in Merioneth and parts of Powyssìli ffritis a term applied to a small woman or a female dwarf who happens to be proud, vain, and fond of the attentions of the other sex (benyw fach neu goraches falch a hunanol a fyđai hoff o garu); but he thinks he has heard it made use of with regard to the gipsies, and possibly also to theTylwyth Teg. The Rev. O.Davies thinks the wordssìli ffrit Leisa Bèlato be very modern, and that they refer to a young woman who lived at a place in the neighbourhood, called Bryn Bèla or Brymbèla, ‘Bella’s Hill,’ the point being that this Bella was ahead, in her time, of all the girls in those parts in matters of taste and fashion. This however does not seem to go far enough back, and it is possible still that inBèla, that is, in English spelling,Bella, we have merely a shortening of some such a name as Isabella or Arabella, which were once much more popular in the Principality than they are now: in fact, I do not feel sure thatLeisa Bèlais not bodily a corruption ofIsabella. As tosìli ffrit, one might at first have been inclined to render it by small fry, especially in the sense of the French ‘de la friture’ as applied to young men and boys, and to connect it with the Welshsilandsilod, which mean small fish; but the pronunciation ofsilliorsìlibeing nearly that of the English wordsilly, it appears, on the whole, to belong to the host of English words to be found in colloquial Welsh, though they seldom find their way into books. Students of English ought to be able to tell us whetherfrithad the meaning here suggested in any part of England, and how lately; also, whether there was such a phrase as ‘silly frit’ in use. After penning this, I received the following interesting communication from Mr. William Jones, of Ỻangoỻen:—The termsìli ffritwas formerly in use at Beđgelert, and what was thereby meant was a child of theTylwyth Teg. It is still used for any creature that is smaller than ordinary. ‘Pooh, a silly frit like that!’ (Pw, rhyw sìli ffrit fel yna!). ‘Mrs. So-and-So has a fine child.’ ‘Ha, do you call a silly frit like that a fine child?’ (Mae gan hon a hon blentyn braf. Ho, a ydych chwi’n galw rhyw sìli ffrit fel hwnna’nbraf?) To return to Leisa Bèla and Belenë, it may be that the same person was meant by both these names, but I am in no hurry to identify them, as none of my correspondents knows the latter of them except Mr. Hughes, who gives it on the authority of the bard Gutyn Peris, and nothing further so far as I can understand, whereas Bèla will come before us in another story, as it is the same name, I presume, which Glasynys has spelledBellainCymru Fu.So I wrote in 1881: since then I have ascertained from Professor Joseph Wright, who is busily engaged on his greatEnglish Dialect Dictionary, thatfrit27is the same word, in the dialects of Cheshire, Shropshire, and Pembrokeshire, asfrightin literary English; and that the corresponding verb tofrightenis in themfritten, while afrittenin(= the book Englishfrightening) means a ghost or apparition. Sosìli ffritis simply the Englishsilly frit, and means probably a silly sprite or silly ghost, andsìli ffrit Leisa Bèlawould mean the silly ghost of a woman called Liza Bella. But the silly frit found spinning near Corwrion Pool will come under notice again, for that fairy belongs to the Rumpelstiltzchen group of tales, and the fragment of a story about her will be seen to have treated Silly Frit as her proper name, which she had not intended to reach the ears of the person of whom she was trying to get the better.These tales are brought into connexion with the present day in more ways than one, for besides the various accounts of thebwganodor bogies of Corwrion frightening people when out late at night, Mr. D. E. Davies knows a man, who is still living, and whowell remembers the time when the sound of working used to be heard in the pool, and the voices of children crying somewhere in its depths, but that when people rushed there to see what the matter was, all was found profoundly quiet and still. Moreover, there is a family or two, now numerously represented in the parishes of Ỻandegai and Ỻanỻechid, who used to be taunted with being the offspring of fairy ancestors. One of these families was nicknamed ‘Simychiaid’ or ‘Smychiaid’; and my informant, who is not yet quite forty, says that he heard his mother repeat scores of times that the old people used to say, that the Smychiaid, who were very numerous in the neighbourhood, were descended from fairies, and that they came from Ỻyn Corwrion. At all this the Smychiaid were wont to grow mightily angry. Another tradition, he says, about them was that they were a wandering family that arrived in the district from the direction of Conway, and that the father’s name was a Simwch, or rather that was his nickname, based on the proper name Simwnt, which appears to have once been the prevalent name in Ỻandegai. The historical order of these words would in that case have beenSimwnt,Simwch,Simychiaid,Smychiaid. NowSimwntseems to be merely the Welsh form given to some such English name asSimond, just asEdmundorEdmondbecomes in North WalesEmwnt. The objection to the nickname seems to lie in the fact, which one of my correspondents points out to me, that Simwch is understood to mean a monkey, a point on which I should like to have further information. Pughe givessimach, it is true, as having the meaning of the Latinsimia. A branch of the same family is said to be called ‘y Cowperiaid’ or the Coopers, from an ancestor who was either by name or by trade a cooper.Mr. Hughes’ account of the Smychiaid was, that they are the descendants of one Simonds, who came to be a bailiff at Bodysgaỻan, near Deganwy, and moved from there to Coetmor in the neighbourhood of Corwrion. Simonds was obnoxious to the bards, he goes on to say, and they described the Smychiaid as having arrived in the parish at the bottom of acaweỻ, ‘a creel or basket carried on the back,’ when chance would have it that thecaweỻcord snapped just in that neighbourhood, at a place called Pont y Ỻan. That accident is described, according to Mr. Hughes, in the following doggerel, the origin of which I do not know—E dorai ’r arwest, ede wan,Brwnt y ỻe, ar Bont y Ỻan.The cord would snap, feeble yarn,At that nasty spot, Pont y Ỻan.Curiously enough, the samecaweỻstory used to be said of a widely spread family in North Cardiganshire, whose surname was pronounced Massn and written Mason or Mazon: as my mother was of this family, I have often heard it. Thecaweỻ, if I remember rightly, was said, in this instance, to have come from Scotland, to which were traced three men who settled in North Cardiganshire. One had no descendants, but the other two, Mason and Peel—I think his name was Peel, but I am only sure that it was not Welsh—had so many, that the Masons, at any rate, are exceedingly numerous there; but a great many of them, owing to some extent, probably, to thecaweỻstory, have been silly enough to change their name into that of Jones, some of them in my time. The three men came there probably for refuge in the course of troubles in Scotland, as a Frazer and a Francis did to Anglesey. At any rate, I have never heard it suggested that they were of aquatic origin, but, taking thecaweỻinto consideration, and the popular account ofthe Smychiaid, I should be inclined to think that thecaweỻoriginally referred to some such a supposed descent. I only hope that somebody will help us with another and a longercaweỻtale, which will make up for the brevity of these allusions. We may, however, assume, I think, that there was a tendency at one time in Gwyneđ, if not in other parts of the Principality, to believe, or pretend to believe, that the descendants of an Englishman or Scotsman, who settled among the old inhabitants, were of fairy origin, and that their history was somehow uncanny, which was all, of course, duly resented. This helps, to some extent, to explain how names of doubtful origin have got into these tales, such asSmychiaid,Cowperiaid,Pellings,Penelope,Leisa BèlaorIsabella, and the like. This association of the lake legends with intruders from without is what has, perhaps, in a great measure served to rescue such legends from utter oblivion.As to a church at Corwrion, the tradition does not seem to be an old one, and it appears founded on one of the popular etymologies of the word Corwrion, which treats the first syllable ascorin the sense of a choir; but the word has other meanings, including among them that of an ox-stall or enclosure for cattle. Taking this as coming near the true explanation, it at once suggests itself, that Creuwyryon in theMabinogiof Math ab Mathonwy is the same place, forcreuorcraualso meant an enclosure for animals, including swine. In Irish the word iscró, an enclosure, a hut or hovel. The passage in theMabinogi28relates to Gwydion returning with the swine he had got by dint of magic and deceit from Pryderi, prince of Dyfed, and runs thus in Lady Charlotte Guest’s translation: ‘So they journeyed on to the highest town of Arỻechweđ,and there they made a sty (creu) for the swine, and therefore was the name of Creuwyryon given to that town.’ As towyryonorwyrion, which we find made intowrionin Corwrion according to the modern habit, it would seem to be no other word than the usual plural ofwyr, a grandson, formerly also any descendant in the direct line. If so, the name of an ancestor must have originally followed, just as one of the places called Bettws was onceBetws Wyrion Iđon, ‘the Bettws of Iđon’s Descendants’; but it is possible thatwyrionin Creu- or Cor-wyrion was itself a man’s name, though I have never met with it. It is right to add that the name appears in theRecord of Carnarvon(pp. 12, 25, 26) as Creweryon, which carries us back to the first half of the fourteenth century. There it occurs as the name of a township containing eight gavels, and the particulars about it might, in the hand of one familiar with the tenures of that time, perhaps give us valuable information as to what may have been its status at a still earlier date.

V.The Rev. O. Davies regarded the Ỻanỻechid legend as so very like the one he got about Cweỻyn Lake and the Waen Fawr, that he has not written the former out at length, but merely pointed out the following differences: (1) Instead of Cweỻyn, the lake in the former is the pool of Corwrion, in the parish of Ỻandegai, near Bangor. (2) What the Lake Lady was struck with wasnot a bridle, but an iron fetter: the word used isỻyfether, which probably means a long fetter connecting a fore-foot and a hind-foot of a horse together. In Arfon, the word is applied also to a cord tying the two fore-feet together, but in Cardiganshire this would be called ahual, the other word, there pronouncedllowethir, being confined to the long fetter. In books, the word is writtenllywethair,llefethairandllyffethairorllyffethar, which is possibly the pronunciation in parts of North Wales, especially Arfon. This is an interesting word, as it is no other than the English term ‘long fetter,’ borrowed into Welsh; as, in fact, it was also into Irish early enough to call for an article on it in Cormac’sIrish Glossary, wherelangfiteris described as an English word for a fetter between the fore and the hind legs: in Anglo-Manx it is becomelanketer. (3) The field in which they were trying to catch the horse is, in the Ỻanỻechid version, specified as that called Maes Madog, at the foot of the Ỻefn. (4) When the fairy wife ran away, it was headlong into the pool of Corwrion, calling after her all her milch cows, and they followed her with the utmost readiness.Before going on to mention bits of information I have received from others about the Ỻanỻechid legend, I think it best here to finish with the items given me by Mr. O. Davies, whom I cannot too cordially thank for his readiness to answer my questions. Among other things, he expresses himself to the following effect:— ‘It is to this day a tradition—and I have heard it a hundred times—that the dairy of Corwrion excelled all other dairies in those parts, that the milk was better and more plentiful, and that the cheese and butter were better there than in all the country round, the reason assigned being that the cattle on the farm of Corwrion had mixed with the breed belonging to the fairy, whohad run away after being struck with the iron fetter. However that may be, I remember perfectly well the high terms of praise in which the cows of Corwrion used to be spoken of as being remarkable for their milk and the profit they yielded; and, when I was a boy, I used to hear people talk ofTarw Penwyn Corwrion, or “the White-headed Bull of Corwrion,” as derived from the breed of cattle which had formed the fairy maiden’s dowry.’My next informant is Mr. Hugh Derfel Hughes, of Pendinas, Ỻandegai24, who has been kind enough to give me the version, of which I here give the substance in English, premising that Mr. Hughes says that he has lived about thirty-four years within a mile of the pool and farm house called Corwrion, and that he has refreshed his memory of the legend by questioning separately no less than three old people, who had been bred and born at or near that spot. He is a native of Merioneth, but has lived at Ỻandegai for the last thirty-seven years, his age now being sixty-six. I may add that Mr. Hughes is a local antiquary of great industry and zeal; and that he published a book on the antiquities of the district, under the title ofHynafiaethau Ỻandegai a Ỻanỻechid, that is ‘the Antiquities of Ỻandegai and Ỻanỻechid’ (Bethesda, 1866); but it is out of print, and I have had some trouble to procure a copy:—‘In old times, when the fairies showed themselves much oftener to men than they do now, they made their home in the bottomless pool of Corwrion, in Upper Arỻechweđ, in that wild portion of Gwyneđ calledArfon. On fine mornings in the month of June these diminutive and nimble folk might be seen in a regular line vigorously engaged in mowing hay, with their cattle in herds busily grazing in the fields near Corwrion. This was a sight which often met the eyes of the people on the sides of the hills around, even on Sundays; but when they hurried down to them they found the fields empty, with the sham workmen and their cows gone, all gone. At other times they might be heard hammering away like miners, shovelling rubbish aside, or emptying their carts of stones. At times they took to singing all the night long, greatly to the delight of the people about, who dearly loved to hear them; and, besides singing so charmingly, they sometimes formed into companies for dancing, and their movements were marvellously graceful and attractive. But it was not safe to go too near the lake late at night, for once a brave girl, who was troubled with toothache, got up at midnight and went to the brink of the water in search of the root of a plant that grows there full of the power to kill all pain in the teeth. But, as she was plucking up a bit of it, there burst on her ear, from the depths of the lake, such a shriek as drove her back into the house breathless with fear and trembling; but whether this was not the doing of a stray fairy, who had been frightened out of her wits at being suddenly overtaken by a damsel in her nightdress, or the ordinary fairy way of curing the toothache, tradition does not tell. For sometimes, at any rate, the fairies busied themselves in doing good to the men and women who were their neighbours, as when they tried to teach them to keep all promises and covenants to which they pledged themselves. A certain man and his wife, to whom they wished to teach this good habit, have never been forgotten. The husband had been behaving ashe ought, until one day, as he held the plough, with the wife guiding his team, he broke his covenant towards her by treating her harshly and unkindly. No sooner had he done so, than he was snatched through the air and plunged in the lake. When the wife went to the brink of the water to ask for him back, the reply she had was, that he was there, and that there he should be.‘The fairies when engaged in dancing allowed themselves to be gazed at, a sight which was wont greatly to attract the young men of the neighbourhood, and once on a time the son and heir of the owner of Corwrion fell deeply in love with one of the graceful maidens who danced in the fairy ring, for she was wondrously beautiful and pretty beyond compare. His passion for her ere long resulted in courtship, and soon in their being married, which took place on the express understanding, that firstly the husband was not to know her name, though he might give her any name he chose; and, secondly, that he might now and then beat her with a rod, if she chanced to misbehave towards him; but he was not to strike her with iron on pain of her leaving him at once. This covenant was kept for some years, so that they lived happily together and had four children, of whom the two youngest were a boy and a girl. But one day as they went to one of the fields of Bryn Twrw in the direction of Pennarđ Gron, to catch a pony, the fairy wife, being so much nimbler than her husband, ran before him and had her hand in the pony’s mane in no time. She called out to her husband to throw her a halter, but instead of that he threw towards her a bridle with an iron bit, which, as bad luck would have it, struck her. The wife at once flew through the air, and plunged headlong into Corwrion Pool. The husband returnedsighing and weeping towards Bryn Twrw, “Noise Hill,” and when he had reached it, thetwrw, “noise,” there was greater than had ever been heard before, namely that of weeping after “Belenë”; and it was then, after he had struck her with iron, that he first learnt what his wife’s name was. Belenë never came back to her husband, but the feelings of a mother once brought her to the window of his bedroom, where she gave him the following order:—Os byđ anwyd ar fy mab,Rho’wch am dano gob ei dad;Os anwydog a fyđ can25,Rho’wch am dani bais ei mam.If my son should feel it cold,Let him wear his father’s coat;If the fair one feel the cold,Let her wear my petticoat.‘As years and years rolled on a grandson of Belenë’s fell in love with a beautiful damsel who lived at a neighbouring farm house called Tai Teulwriaid, and against the will of his father and mother they married, but they had nothing to stock their land with. So one morning what was their astonishment, when they got up, to see grazing quietly in the field six black cows and a white-headed bull, which had come up out of the lake as stock for them from old grannie Belenë? They served them well with milk and butter for many a long year, but on the day the last of the family died, the six black cows and the white-headed bull disappeared into the lake, never more to be seen.’Mr. Hughes referred to no less than three other versions, as follows:—(1) According to one account, the husband was ploughing, with the wife leading the team, when by chance he came across her and the accident happened. The wife then flew away like a wood-hen (iar goed) into the lake. (2) Another says that they were in a stable trying to bridle one of thehorses, when the misfortune took place through inadvertence. (3) A third specifies the field in front of the house at Corwrion as the place where the final accident took place, when they were busied with the cows and horses.To these I would add the following traditions, which Mr. Hughes further gives. Sometimes the inhabitants, who seem to have been on the whole on good terms with the fairies, used to heat water and leave it in a vessel on the hearth overnight for the fairies to wash their children in it. This they considered such a kindness that they always left behind them on the hearth a handful of their money. Some pieces are said to have been sometimes found in the fields near Corwrion, and that they consisted of coins which were smaller than our halfpennies, but bigger than farthings, and had a harp on one side. But the tradition is not very definite on these points.Here also I may as well refer to a similar tale which I got last year at Ỻanberis from a man who is a native of the Ỻanỻechid side of the mountain, though he now lives at Ỻanberis. He is about fifty-five years of age, and remembers hearing in his youth a tale connected with a house called Hafoty’r Famaeth, in a very lonely situation on Ỻanỻechid Mountain, and now represented only by some old ruined walls. It was to the effect that one night, when the man who lived there was away from home, his wife, who had a youngish baby, washed him on the hearth, left the water there, and went to bed with her little one: she woke up in the night to find that theTylwyth Tegwere in possession of the hearth, and busily engaged in washing their children. That is all I got of this tale of a well-known type.To return to Mr. Hughes’ communications, I would select from them some remarks on the topography ofthe teeming home of the fairies. He estimated the lake or pool of Corwrion to be about 120 yards long, and adds that it is nearly round; but he thinks it was formerly considerably larger, as a cutting was made some eighty or a hundred years ago to lead water from it to Penrhyn Castle; but even then its size would not approach that ascribed to it by popular belief, according to which it was no less than three miles long. In fact it was believed that there was once a town of Corwrion which was swallowed up by the lake, a sort of idea which one meets with in many parts of Wales, and some of the natives are said to be able to discern the houses under the water. This must have been near the end which is not bottomless, the latter being indicated by a spot which is said never to freeze even in hard winters. Old men remember it the resort of herons, cormorants, and the water-hen (hobi wen). Near the banks there grew, besides the water-lily, various kinds of rushes and sedges, which were formerly much used for making mats and other useful articles. It was also once famous for eels of a large size, but it is not supposed to have contained fish until Lord Penrhyn placed some there in recent years. It teemed, however, with leeches of three different kinds so recently that an old man still living describes to Mr. Hughes his simple way of catching them when he was a boy, namely, by walking bare-legged in the water: in a few minutes he landed with nine or ten leeches sticking to his legs, some of which fetched a shilling each from the medical men of those days. Corwrion is now a farm house occupied by Mr. William Griffiths, a grandson of the late bard Gutyn Peris. When Mr. Hughes called to make inquiries about the legend, he found there the foundations of several old buildings, and several pieces of old querns about the place. Hethinks that there belonged to Corwrion in former times, a mill and a fuller’s house, which he seems to infer from the names of two neighbouring houses called ‘Y Felin Hen,’ the Old Mill, and ‘Pandy Tre Garth,’ the Fulling Mill of Tregarth, respectively. He also alludes to agefailor smithy there, in which one Rhys ab Robert used to work, not to mention that a great quantity of ashes, such as come from a smithy, are found at the end of the lake furthest from the farm house. The spot on which Corwrion stands is part of the ground between the Ogwen and another stream which bears the name of ‘Afon Cegin Arthur,’ or the River of Arthur’s Kitchen, and most of the houses and fields about have names which have suggested various notions to the people there: such are the farms called ‘Coed Howel,’ whence the belief in the neighbourhood that Howel Đa, King of Wales, lived here. About him Mr. Hughes has a great deal to say: among other things, that he had boats on Corwrion lake, and that he was wont to present the citizens of Bangor yearly with 300 fat geese reared on the waters of the same. I am referred by another man to a lecture delivered in the neighbourhood on these and similar things by the late bard and antiquary the Rev. Robert Ellis (Cynđelw), but I have never come across a copy. A field near Corwrion is called ‘Cae Stabal,’ or the Field of the Stable, which contains the remains of a row of stables, as it is supposed, and of a number of mangers where Howel’s horses were once fed. In a neighbouring wood, called ‘Parc y Geỻi’ or ‘Hopiar y Geỻi,’ my informant goes on to say, there are to be seen the foundations of seventeen or eighteen old hut-circles, and near them some think they see the site of an old church. About a mile to the south-east of Corwrion is Pendinas, which Mr. Hughes describes asan old triangular Welsh fortress, on the bank of the Ogwen; and within two stone’s-throws or so of Corwrion on the south side of it, and a little to the west of Bryn Twrw mentioned in the legend, is situated Penarđ Gron, acaeror fort, which he describes as being, before it was razed in his time, forty-two yards long by thirty-two wide, and defended by a sort of rampart of earth and stone several yards wide at the base. It used to be the resort of the country people for dancing, cock-fighting26, and other amusements on Sundays. Near it was a cairn, which, when it was dug into, was found to cover a kistvaen, a pot, and a quern: a variety of tales attaching to it are told concerning ghosts, caves, and hidden treasures. Altogether Mr. Hughes is strongly of opinion that Corwrion and its immediate surroundings represent a spot which at one time had great importance; and I see no reason wholly to doubt the correctness of that conclusion, but it would be interesting to know whether Penrhyn used, as Mr. Hughes suggests, to be called Penrhyn Corwrion; there ought, perhaps, to be no great difficulty in ascertaining this, as some of the Penrhyn estate appears to have been the subject of litigation in times gone by.Before leaving Mr. Hughes’ notes, I must here give his too brief account of another thing connected with Corwrion, though, perhaps, not with the legends here in question. I allude to what he calls the Lantern Ghost (Ysbryd y Lantar):—‘There used to be formerly,’ he says, ‘and there is still at Corwrion, a good-sized sour apple-tree, which during the winter half of the year used to be lit up by fire. It began slowly andgrew greater until the whole seemed to be in a blaze. He was told by an old woman that she formerly knew old people who declared they had seen it. In the same way the trees in Hopiar y Geỻi appeared, according to them, to be also lit up with fire.’ This reminds me of Mr. Fitzgerald’s account of the Irish Bile-Tineadh in theRevue Celtique, iv. 194.After communicating to me the notes of which the foregoing are abstracts, Mr. Hughes kindly got me a version of the legend from Mr. David Thomas, of Pont y Wern, in the same neighbourhood, but as it contains nothing which I have not already given from Mr. Hughes’ own, I pass it by. Mr. Thomas, however, has heard that the number of the houses making up the town of Corwrion some six or seven centuries ago was about seventy-five; but they were exactly seventy-three according to my next informant, Mr. David Evan Davies, of Treflys, Bethesda, better known by his bardic name of Dewi Glan Ffrydlas. Both these gentlemen have also heard the tradition that there was a church at Corwrion, where there used to be every Sunday a single service, after which the people went to a spot not far off to amuse themselves, and at night to watch the fairies dancing, or to mix with them while they danced in a ring around a glow-worm. According to Dewi Glan Ffrydlas, the spot was the Pen y Bonc, already mentioned, which means, among other things, that they chose a rising ground. This is referred to in a modern rhyme, which runs thus:—A’r Tylwyth Teg yn dawnsio’n sioncO gylch magïen Pen y Bonc.With the fairies nimbly dancing roundThe glow-worm on the Rising Ground.Dewi Glan Ffrydlas has kindly gone to the trouble of giving me a brief, but complete, version of the legend as he has heard it. It will be noticed that the discoveringof the fairy’s name is an idle incident in this version: it is brought in too late, and no use is made of it when introduced. This is the substance of his story in English:—‘At one of the dances at Pen y Bonc, the heir of Corwrion’s eyes fell on one of the damsels of the fair family, and he was filled with love for her. Courtship and marriage indue timeensued, but he had to agree to two conditions, namely, that he was neither to know her name nor to strike her with iron. By-and-by they had children, and when the husband happened to go, during his wife’s confinement, to a merry-making at Pen y Bonc, the fairies talked together concerning his wife, and in expressing their feelings of sympathy for her, they inadvertently betrayed the mystery of her name by mentioning it within his hearing. Years rolled on, when the husband and wife went out together one day to catch a colt of theirs that had not been broken in, their object being to go to Conway Fair. Now, as she was swifter of foot than her husband, she got hold of the colt by the mane, and called out to him to throw her a halter, but instead of throwing her the one she asked for, he threw another with iron in it, which struck her. Off she went into the lake. A grandson of this fairy many years afterwards married one of the girls of Corwrion. They had a large piece of land, but no means of stocking it, so that they felt rather distressed in their minds. But lo and behold! one day a white-headed bull came out of the lake, bringing with him six black cows to their land. There never were the like of those cows for milk, and great was the prosperity of their owners, as well as the envy it kindled in their neighbours’ breasts. But when they both grew old and died, the bull and the cows went back into the lake.’Now I add the other sayings about theTylwyth Teg,which Dewi Glan Ffrydlas has kindly collected for me, beginning with a blurred story about changelings:—‘Once on a time, in the fourteenth century, the wife of a man at Corwrion had twins, and she complained one day to a witch, who lived close by, at Tyđyn y Barcud, that the children were not getting on, but that they were always crying day and night. “Are you sure that they are your children?” asked the witch, adding that it did not seem to her that they were like hers. “I have my doubts also,” said the mother. “I wonder if somebody has exchanged children with you,” said the witch. “I do not know,” said the mother. “But why do you not seek to know?” asked the other. “But how am I to go about it?” said the mother. The witch replied, “Go and do something rather strange before their eyes and watch what they will say to one another.” “Well, I do not know what I should do,” said the mother. “Well,” said the other, “take an egg-shell, and proceed to brew beer in it in a chamber aside, and come here to tell me what the children will say about it.” She went home and did as the witch had directed her, when the two children lifted their heads out of the cradle to find what she was doing—to watch and to listen. Then one observed to the other, “I remember seeing an oak having an acorn,” to which the other replied, “And I remember seeing a hen having an egg”; and one of the two added, “But I do not remember before seeing anybody brew beer in the shell of a hen’s egg.” The mother then went to the witch and told her what the twins had said one to the other; and she directed her to go to a small wooden bridge, not far off, with one of the strange children under each arm, and there to drop them from the bridge into the river beneath. The mother went back home again and did as she had been directed. When she reached homethis time, she found to her astonishment that her own children had been brought back.’Next comes a story about a midwife who lived at Corwrion. ‘One of the fairies called to ask her to come and attend on his wife. Off she went with him, and she was astonished to be taken into a splendid palace. There she continued to go night and morning to dress the baby for some time, until one day the husband asked her to rub her eyes with a certain ointment he offered her. She did so, and found herself sitting on a tuft of rushes, and not in a palace. There was no baby: all had disappeared. Some time afterwards she happened to go to the town, and whom should she there see busily buying various wares, but the fairy on whose wife she had been attending. She addressed him with the question, “How are you to-day?” Instead of answering her, he asked, “How do you see me?” “With my eyes,” was the prompt reply. “Which eye?” he asked. “This one,” said the woman, pointing to it; and instantly he disappeared, never more to be seen by her.’ This tale, as will be seen on comparison later, is incomplete, and probably incorrect.Here is another from Mr. D. E. Davies:—‘One day Guto, the farmer of Corwrion, complained to his wife that he lacked men to mow his hay, when she replied, “Why fret about it? look yonder! There you have a field full of them at it, and stripped to their shirt-sleeves (yn ỻewys eu crysau).” When he went to the spot the sham workmen of the fairy family had disappeared. This same Guto—or somebody else—happened another time to be ploughing, when he heard some person he could not see, calling out to him, “I have got thebins(that is thevice) of my plough broken.” “Bring it to me,” said the driver of Guto’s team, “that I may mend it.” When they finished the furrow, they found thebroken vice, with a barrel of beer placed near it. One of the men sat down and mended the vice. Then they made another furrow, and when they returned to the spot they found there a two-eared dish filled to the brim withbara a chwrw, or “bread and beer.” The wordvice, I may observe, is an English term, which is applied in Carnarvonshire to a certain part of the plough: it is otherwise calledbins, but neither does this seem to be a Welsh word, nor have I heard either used in South Wales.At times one of the fairies was in the habit, as I was told by more than one of my informants, of coming out of Ỻyn Corwrion with her spinning-wheel (troeỻ bach) on fine summer days and betaking herself to spinning. While at that work she might be heard constantly singing or humming, in a sort of round tune, the wordssìli ffrit. So thatsìli ffrit Leisa Bèlamay now be heard from the mouths of the children in that neighbourhood. But I have not been successful in finding out what Liza Bella’s ‘silly frit’ exactly means, though I am, on the whole, convinced that the words are other than of Welsh origin. The last of them,ffrit, is usually applied in Cardiganshire to anything worthless or insignificant, and the derivative,ffrityn, means one who has no go or perseverance in him: the feminine isffriten. In Carnarvonshire my wife has heardffritynandffritanapplied to a small man and a small woman respectively. Mr. Hughes says that in Merioneth and parts of Powyssìli ffritis a term applied to a small woman or a female dwarf who happens to be proud, vain, and fond of the attentions of the other sex (benyw fach neu goraches falch a hunanol a fyđai hoff o garu); but he thinks he has heard it made use of with regard to the gipsies, and possibly also to theTylwyth Teg. The Rev. O.Davies thinks the wordssìli ffrit Leisa Bèlato be very modern, and that they refer to a young woman who lived at a place in the neighbourhood, called Bryn Bèla or Brymbèla, ‘Bella’s Hill,’ the point being that this Bella was ahead, in her time, of all the girls in those parts in matters of taste and fashion. This however does not seem to go far enough back, and it is possible still that inBèla, that is, in English spelling,Bella, we have merely a shortening of some such a name as Isabella or Arabella, which were once much more popular in the Principality than they are now: in fact, I do not feel sure thatLeisa Bèlais not bodily a corruption ofIsabella. As tosìli ffrit, one might at first have been inclined to render it by small fry, especially in the sense of the French ‘de la friture’ as applied to young men and boys, and to connect it with the Welshsilandsilod, which mean small fish; but the pronunciation ofsilliorsìlibeing nearly that of the English wordsilly, it appears, on the whole, to belong to the host of English words to be found in colloquial Welsh, though they seldom find their way into books. Students of English ought to be able to tell us whetherfrithad the meaning here suggested in any part of England, and how lately; also, whether there was such a phrase as ‘silly frit’ in use. After penning this, I received the following interesting communication from Mr. William Jones, of Ỻangoỻen:—The termsìli ffritwas formerly in use at Beđgelert, and what was thereby meant was a child of theTylwyth Teg. It is still used for any creature that is smaller than ordinary. ‘Pooh, a silly frit like that!’ (Pw, rhyw sìli ffrit fel yna!). ‘Mrs. So-and-So has a fine child.’ ‘Ha, do you call a silly frit like that a fine child?’ (Mae gan hon a hon blentyn braf. Ho, a ydych chwi’n galw rhyw sìli ffrit fel hwnna’nbraf?) To return to Leisa Bèla and Belenë, it may be that the same person was meant by both these names, but I am in no hurry to identify them, as none of my correspondents knows the latter of them except Mr. Hughes, who gives it on the authority of the bard Gutyn Peris, and nothing further so far as I can understand, whereas Bèla will come before us in another story, as it is the same name, I presume, which Glasynys has spelledBellainCymru Fu.So I wrote in 1881: since then I have ascertained from Professor Joseph Wright, who is busily engaged on his greatEnglish Dialect Dictionary, thatfrit27is the same word, in the dialects of Cheshire, Shropshire, and Pembrokeshire, asfrightin literary English; and that the corresponding verb tofrightenis in themfritten, while afrittenin(= the book Englishfrightening) means a ghost or apparition. Sosìli ffritis simply the Englishsilly frit, and means probably a silly sprite or silly ghost, andsìli ffrit Leisa Bèlawould mean the silly ghost of a woman called Liza Bella. But the silly frit found spinning near Corwrion Pool will come under notice again, for that fairy belongs to the Rumpelstiltzchen group of tales, and the fragment of a story about her will be seen to have treated Silly Frit as her proper name, which she had not intended to reach the ears of the person of whom she was trying to get the better.These tales are brought into connexion with the present day in more ways than one, for besides the various accounts of thebwganodor bogies of Corwrion frightening people when out late at night, Mr. D. E. Davies knows a man, who is still living, and whowell remembers the time when the sound of working used to be heard in the pool, and the voices of children crying somewhere in its depths, but that when people rushed there to see what the matter was, all was found profoundly quiet and still. Moreover, there is a family or two, now numerously represented in the parishes of Ỻandegai and Ỻanỻechid, who used to be taunted with being the offspring of fairy ancestors. One of these families was nicknamed ‘Simychiaid’ or ‘Smychiaid’; and my informant, who is not yet quite forty, says that he heard his mother repeat scores of times that the old people used to say, that the Smychiaid, who were very numerous in the neighbourhood, were descended from fairies, and that they came from Ỻyn Corwrion. At all this the Smychiaid were wont to grow mightily angry. Another tradition, he says, about them was that they were a wandering family that arrived in the district from the direction of Conway, and that the father’s name was a Simwch, or rather that was his nickname, based on the proper name Simwnt, which appears to have once been the prevalent name in Ỻandegai. The historical order of these words would in that case have beenSimwnt,Simwch,Simychiaid,Smychiaid. NowSimwntseems to be merely the Welsh form given to some such English name asSimond, just asEdmundorEdmondbecomes in North WalesEmwnt. The objection to the nickname seems to lie in the fact, which one of my correspondents points out to me, that Simwch is understood to mean a monkey, a point on which I should like to have further information. Pughe givessimach, it is true, as having the meaning of the Latinsimia. A branch of the same family is said to be called ‘y Cowperiaid’ or the Coopers, from an ancestor who was either by name or by trade a cooper.Mr. Hughes’ account of the Smychiaid was, that they are the descendants of one Simonds, who came to be a bailiff at Bodysgaỻan, near Deganwy, and moved from there to Coetmor in the neighbourhood of Corwrion. Simonds was obnoxious to the bards, he goes on to say, and they described the Smychiaid as having arrived in the parish at the bottom of acaweỻ, ‘a creel or basket carried on the back,’ when chance would have it that thecaweỻcord snapped just in that neighbourhood, at a place called Pont y Ỻan. That accident is described, according to Mr. Hughes, in the following doggerel, the origin of which I do not know—E dorai ’r arwest, ede wan,Brwnt y ỻe, ar Bont y Ỻan.The cord would snap, feeble yarn,At that nasty spot, Pont y Ỻan.Curiously enough, the samecaweỻstory used to be said of a widely spread family in North Cardiganshire, whose surname was pronounced Massn and written Mason or Mazon: as my mother was of this family, I have often heard it. Thecaweỻ, if I remember rightly, was said, in this instance, to have come from Scotland, to which were traced three men who settled in North Cardiganshire. One had no descendants, but the other two, Mason and Peel—I think his name was Peel, but I am only sure that it was not Welsh—had so many, that the Masons, at any rate, are exceedingly numerous there; but a great many of them, owing to some extent, probably, to thecaweỻstory, have been silly enough to change their name into that of Jones, some of them in my time. The three men came there probably for refuge in the course of troubles in Scotland, as a Frazer and a Francis did to Anglesey. At any rate, I have never heard it suggested that they were of aquatic origin, but, taking thecaweỻinto consideration, and the popular account ofthe Smychiaid, I should be inclined to think that thecaweỻoriginally referred to some such a supposed descent. I only hope that somebody will help us with another and a longercaweỻtale, which will make up for the brevity of these allusions. We may, however, assume, I think, that there was a tendency at one time in Gwyneđ, if not in other parts of the Principality, to believe, or pretend to believe, that the descendants of an Englishman or Scotsman, who settled among the old inhabitants, were of fairy origin, and that their history was somehow uncanny, which was all, of course, duly resented. This helps, to some extent, to explain how names of doubtful origin have got into these tales, such asSmychiaid,Cowperiaid,Pellings,Penelope,Leisa BèlaorIsabella, and the like. This association of the lake legends with intruders from without is what has, perhaps, in a great measure served to rescue such legends from utter oblivion.As to a church at Corwrion, the tradition does not seem to be an old one, and it appears founded on one of the popular etymologies of the word Corwrion, which treats the first syllable ascorin the sense of a choir; but the word has other meanings, including among them that of an ox-stall or enclosure for cattle. Taking this as coming near the true explanation, it at once suggests itself, that Creuwyryon in theMabinogiof Math ab Mathonwy is the same place, forcreuorcraualso meant an enclosure for animals, including swine. In Irish the word iscró, an enclosure, a hut or hovel. The passage in theMabinogi28relates to Gwydion returning with the swine he had got by dint of magic and deceit from Pryderi, prince of Dyfed, and runs thus in Lady Charlotte Guest’s translation: ‘So they journeyed on to the highest town of Arỻechweđ,and there they made a sty (creu) for the swine, and therefore was the name of Creuwyryon given to that town.’ As towyryonorwyrion, which we find made intowrionin Corwrion according to the modern habit, it would seem to be no other word than the usual plural ofwyr, a grandson, formerly also any descendant in the direct line. If so, the name of an ancestor must have originally followed, just as one of the places called Bettws was onceBetws Wyrion Iđon, ‘the Bettws of Iđon’s Descendants’; but it is possible thatwyrionin Creu- or Cor-wyrion was itself a man’s name, though I have never met with it. It is right to add that the name appears in theRecord of Carnarvon(pp. 12, 25, 26) as Creweryon, which carries us back to the first half of the fourteenth century. There it occurs as the name of a township containing eight gavels, and the particulars about it might, in the hand of one familiar with the tenures of that time, perhaps give us valuable information as to what may have been its status at a still earlier date.

V.The Rev. O. Davies regarded the Ỻanỻechid legend as so very like the one he got about Cweỻyn Lake and the Waen Fawr, that he has not written the former out at length, but merely pointed out the following differences: (1) Instead of Cweỻyn, the lake in the former is the pool of Corwrion, in the parish of Ỻandegai, near Bangor. (2) What the Lake Lady was struck with wasnot a bridle, but an iron fetter: the word used isỻyfether, which probably means a long fetter connecting a fore-foot and a hind-foot of a horse together. In Arfon, the word is applied also to a cord tying the two fore-feet together, but in Cardiganshire this would be called ahual, the other word, there pronouncedllowethir, being confined to the long fetter. In books, the word is writtenllywethair,llefethairandllyffethairorllyffethar, which is possibly the pronunciation in parts of North Wales, especially Arfon. This is an interesting word, as it is no other than the English term ‘long fetter,’ borrowed into Welsh; as, in fact, it was also into Irish early enough to call for an article on it in Cormac’sIrish Glossary, wherelangfiteris described as an English word for a fetter between the fore and the hind legs: in Anglo-Manx it is becomelanketer. (3) The field in which they were trying to catch the horse is, in the Ỻanỻechid version, specified as that called Maes Madog, at the foot of the Ỻefn. (4) When the fairy wife ran away, it was headlong into the pool of Corwrion, calling after her all her milch cows, and they followed her with the utmost readiness.Before going on to mention bits of information I have received from others about the Ỻanỻechid legend, I think it best here to finish with the items given me by Mr. O. Davies, whom I cannot too cordially thank for his readiness to answer my questions. Among other things, he expresses himself to the following effect:— ‘It is to this day a tradition—and I have heard it a hundred times—that the dairy of Corwrion excelled all other dairies in those parts, that the milk was better and more plentiful, and that the cheese and butter were better there than in all the country round, the reason assigned being that the cattle on the farm of Corwrion had mixed with the breed belonging to the fairy, whohad run away after being struck with the iron fetter. However that may be, I remember perfectly well the high terms of praise in which the cows of Corwrion used to be spoken of as being remarkable for their milk and the profit they yielded; and, when I was a boy, I used to hear people talk ofTarw Penwyn Corwrion, or “the White-headed Bull of Corwrion,” as derived from the breed of cattle which had formed the fairy maiden’s dowry.’My next informant is Mr. Hugh Derfel Hughes, of Pendinas, Ỻandegai24, who has been kind enough to give me the version, of which I here give the substance in English, premising that Mr. Hughes says that he has lived about thirty-four years within a mile of the pool and farm house called Corwrion, and that he has refreshed his memory of the legend by questioning separately no less than three old people, who had been bred and born at or near that spot. He is a native of Merioneth, but has lived at Ỻandegai for the last thirty-seven years, his age now being sixty-six. I may add that Mr. Hughes is a local antiquary of great industry and zeal; and that he published a book on the antiquities of the district, under the title ofHynafiaethau Ỻandegai a Ỻanỻechid, that is ‘the Antiquities of Ỻandegai and Ỻanỻechid’ (Bethesda, 1866); but it is out of print, and I have had some trouble to procure a copy:—‘In old times, when the fairies showed themselves much oftener to men than they do now, they made their home in the bottomless pool of Corwrion, in Upper Arỻechweđ, in that wild portion of Gwyneđ calledArfon. On fine mornings in the month of June these diminutive and nimble folk might be seen in a regular line vigorously engaged in mowing hay, with their cattle in herds busily grazing in the fields near Corwrion. This was a sight which often met the eyes of the people on the sides of the hills around, even on Sundays; but when they hurried down to them they found the fields empty, with the sham workmen and their cows gone, all gone. At other times they might be heard hammering away like miners, shovelling rubbish aside, or emptying their carts of stones. At times they took to singing all the night long, greatly to the delight of the people about, who dearly loved to hear them; and, besides singing so charmingly, they sometimes formed into companies for dancing, and their movements were marvellously graceful and attractive. But it was not safe to go too near the lake late at night, for once a brave girl, who was troubled with toothache, got up at midnight and went to the brink of the water in search of the root of a plant that grows there full of the power to kill all pain in the teeth. But, as she was plucking up a bit of it, there burst on her ear, from the depths of the lake, such a shriek as drove her back into the house breathless with fear and trembling; but whether this was not the doing of a stray fairy, who had been frightened out of her wits at being suddenly overtaken by a damsel in her nightdress, or the ordinary fairy way of curing the toothache, tradition does not tell. For sometimes, at any rate, the fairies busied themselves in doing good to the men and women who were their neighbours, as when they tried to teach them to keep all promises and covenants to which they pledged themselves. A certain man and his wife, to whom they wished to teach this good habit, have never been forgotten. The husband had been behaving ashe ought, until one day, as he held the plough, with the wife guiding his team, he broke his covenant towards her by treating her harshly and unkindly. No sooner had he done so, than he was snatched through the air and plunged in the lake. When the wife went to the brink of the water to ask for him back, the reply she had was, that he was there, and that there he should be.‘The fairies when engaged in dancing allowed themselves to be gazed at, a sight which was wont greatly to attract the young men of the neighbourhood, and once on a time the son and heir of the owner of Corwrion fell deeply in love with one of the graceful maidens who danced in the fairy ring, for she was wondrously beautiful and pretty beyond compare. His passion for her ere long resulted in courtship, and soon in their being married, which took place on the express understanding, that firstly the husband was not to know her name, though he might give her any name he chose; and, secondly, that he might now and then beat her with a rod, if she chanced to misbehave towards him; but he was not to strike her with iron on pain of her leaving him at once. This covenant was kept for some years, so that they lived happily together and had four children, of whom the two youngest were a boy and a girl. But one day as they went to one of the fields of Bryn Twrw in the direction of Pennarđ Gron, to catch a pony, the fairy wife, being so much nimbler than her husband, ran before him and had her hand in the pony’s mane in no time. She called out to her husband to throw her a halter, but instead of that he threw towards her a bridle with an iron bit, which, as bad luck would have it, struck her. The wife at once flew through the air, and plunged headlong into Corwrion Pool. The husband returnedsighing and weeping towards Bryn Twrw, “Noise Hill,” and when he had reached it, thetwrw, “noise,” there was greater than had ever been heard before, namely that of weeping after “Belenë”; and it was then, after he had struck her with iron, that he first learnt what his wife’s name was. Belenë never came back to her husband, but the feelings of a mother once brought her to the window of his bedroom, where she gave him the following order:—Os byđ anwyd ar fy mab,Rho’wch am dano gob ei dad;Os anwydog a fyđ can25,Rho’wch am dani bais ei mam.If my son should feel it cold,Let him wear his father’s coat;If the fair one feel the cold,Let her wear my petticoat.‘As years and years rolled on a grandson of Belenë’s fell in love with a beautiful damsel who lived at a neighbouring farm house called Tai Teulwriaid, and against the will of his father and mother they married, but they had nothing to stock their land with. So one morning what was their astonishment, when they got up, to see grazing quietly in the field six black cows and a white-headed bull, which had come up out of the lake as stock for them from old grannie Belenë? They served them well with milk and butter for many a long year, but on the day the last of the family died, the six black cows and the white-headed bull disappeared into the lake, never more to be seen.’Mr. Hughes referred to no less than three other versions, as follows:—(1) According to one account, the husband was ploughing, with the wife leading the team, when by chance he came across her and the accident happened. The wife then flew away like a wood-hen (iar goed) into the lake. (2) Another says that they were in a stable trying to bridle one of thehorses, when the misfortune took place through inadvertence. (3) A third specifies the field in front of the house at Corwrion as the place where the final accident took place, when they were busied with the cows and horses.To these I would add the following traditions, which Mr. Hughes further gives. Sometimes the inhabitants, who seem to have been on the whole on good terms with the fairies, used to heat water and leave it in a vessel on the hearth overnight for the fairies to wash their children in it. This they considered such a kindness that they always left behind them on the hearth a handful of their money. Some pieces are said to have been sometimes found in the fields near Corwrion, and that they consisted of coins which were smaller than our halfpennies, but bigger than farthings, and had a harp on one side. But the tradition is not very definite on these points.Here also I may as well refer to a similar tale which I got last year at Ỻanberis from a man who is a native of the Ỻanỻechid side of the mountain, though he now lives at Ỻanberis. He is about fifty-five years of age, and remembers hearing in his youth a tale connected with a house called Hafoty’r Famaeth, in a very lonely situation on Ỻanỻechid Mountain, and now represented only by some old ruined walls. It was to the effect that one night, when the man who lived there was away from home, his wife, who had a youngish baby, washed him on the hearth, left the water there, and went to bed with her little one: she woke up in the night to find that theTylwyth Tegwere in possession of the hearth, and busily engaged in washing their children. That is all I got of this tale of a well-known type.To return to Mr. Hughes’ communications, I would select from them some remarks on the topography ofthe teeming home of the fairies. He estimated the lake or pool of Corwrion to be about 120 yards long, and adds that it is nearly round; but he thinks it was formerly considerably larger, as a cutting was made some eighty or a hundred years ago to lead water from it to Penrhyn Castle; but even then its size would not approach that ascribed to it by popular belief, according to which it was no less than three miles long. In fact it was believed that there was once a town of Corwrion which was swallowed up by the lake, a sort of idea which one meets with in many parts of Wales, and some of the natives are said to be able to discern the houses under the water. This must have been near the end which is not bottomless, the latter being indicated by a spot which is said never to freeze even in hard winters. Old men remember it the resort of herons, cormorants, and the water-hen (hobi wen). Near the banks there grew, besides the water-lily, various kinds of rushes and sedges, which were formerly much used for making mats and other useful articles. It was also once famous for eels of a large size, but it is not supposed to have contained fish until Lord Penrhyn placed some there in recent years. It teemed, however, with leeches of three different kinds so recently that an old man still living describes to Mr. Hughes his simple way of catching them when he was a boy, namely, by walking bare-legged in the water: in a few minutes he landed with nine or ten leeches sticking to his legs, some of which fetched a shilling each from the medical men of those days. Corwrion is now a farm house occupied by Mr. William Griffiths, a grandson of the late bard Gutyn Peris. When Mr. Hughes called to make inquiries about the legend, he found there the foundations of several old buildings, and several pieces of old querns about the place. Hethinks that there belonged to Corwrion in former times, a mill and a fuller’s house, which he seems to infer from the names of two neighbouring houses called ‘Y Felin Hen,’ the Old Mill, and ‘Pandy Tre Garth,’ the Fulling Mill of Tregarth, respectively. He also alludes to agefailor smithy there, in which one Rhys ab Robert used to work, not to mention that a great quantity of ashes, such as come from a smithy, are found at the end of the lake furthest from the farm house. The spot on which Corwrion stands is part of the ground between the Ogwen and another stream which bears the name of ‘Afon Cegin Arthur,’ or the River of Arthur’s Kitchen, and most of the houses and fields about have names which have suggested various notions to the people there: such are the farms called ‘Coed Howel,’ whence the belief in the neighbourhood that Howel Đa, King of Wales, lived here. About him Mr. Hughes has a great deal to say: among other things, that he had boats on Corwrion lake, and that he was wont to present the citizens of Bangor yearly with 300 fat geese reared on the waters of the same. I am referred by another man to a lecture delivered in the neighbourhood on these and similar things by the late bard and antiquary the Rev. Robert Ellis (Cynđelw), but I have never come across a copy. A field near Corwrion is called ‘Cae Stabal,’ or the Field of the Stable, which contains the remains of a row of stables, as it is supposed, and of a number of mangers where Howel’s horses were once fed. In a neighbouring wood, called ‘Parc y Geỻi’ or ‘Hopiar y Geỻi,’ my informant goes on to say, there are to be seen the foundations of seventeen or eighteen old hut-circles, and near them some think they see the site of an old church. About a mile to the south-east of Corwrion is Pendinas, which Mr. Hughes describes asan old triangular Welsh fortress, on the bank of the Ogwen; and within two stone’s-throws or so of Corwrion on the south side of it, and a little to the west of Bryn Twrw mentioned in the legend, is situated Penarđ Gron, acaeror fort, which he describes as being, before it was razed in his time, forty-two yards long by thirty-two wide, and defended by a sort of rampart of earth and stone several yards wide at the base. It used to be the resort of the country people for dancing, cock-fighting26, and other amusements on Sundays. Near it was a cairn, which, when it was dug into, was found to cover a kistvaen, a pot, and a quern: a variety of tales attaching to it are told concerning ghosts, caves, and hidden treasures. Altogether Mr. Hughes is strongly of opinion that Corwrion and its immediate surroundings represent a spot which at one time had great importance; and I see no reason wholly to doubt the correctness of that conclusion, but it would be interesting to know whether Penrhyn used, as Mr. Hughes suggests, to be called Penrhyn Corwrion; there ought, perhaps, to be no great difficulty in ascertaining this, as some of the Penrhyn estate appears to have been the subject of litigation in times gone by.Before leaving Mr. Hughes’ notes, I must here give his too brief account of another thing connected with Corwrion, though, perhaps, not with the legends here in question. I allude to what he calls the Lantern Ghost (Ysbryd y Lantar):—‘There used to be formerly,’ he says, ‘and there is still at Corwrion, a good-sized sour apple-tree, which during the winter half of the year used to be lit up by fire. It began slowly andgrew greater until the whole seemed to be in a blaze. He was told by an old woman that she formerly knew old people who declared they had seen it. In the same way the trees in Hopiar y Geỻi appeared, according to them, to be also lit up with fire.’ This reminds me of Mr. Fitzgerald’s account of the Irish Bile-Tineadh in theRevue Celtique, iv. 194.After communicating to me the notes of which the foregoing are abstracts, Mr. Hughes kindly got me a version of the legend from Mr. David Thomas, of Pont y Wern, in the same neighbourhood, but as it contains nothing which I have not already given from Mr. Hughes’ own, I pass it by. Mr. Thomas, however, has heard that the number of the houses making up the town of Corwrion some six or seven centuries ago was about seventy-five; but they were exactly seventy-three according to my next informant, Mr. David Evan Davies, of Treflys, Bethesda, better known by his bardic name of Dewi Glan Ffrydlas. Both these gentlemen have also heard the tradition that there was a church at Corwrion, where there used to be every Sunday a single service, after which the people went to a spot not far off to amuse themselves, and at night to watch the fairies dancing, or to mix with them while they danced in a ring around a glow-worm. According to Dewi Glan Ffrydlas, the spot was the Pen y Bonc, already mentioned, which means, among other things, that they chose a rising ground. This is referred to in a modern rhyme, which runs thus:—A’r Tylwyth Teg yn dawnsio’n sioncO gylch magïen Pen y Bonc.With the fairies nimbly dancing roundThe glow-worm on the Rising Ground.Dewi Glan Ffrydlas has kindly gone to the trouble of giving me a brief, but complete, version of the legend as he has heard it. It will be noticed that the discoveringof the fairy’s name is an idle incident in this version: it is brought in too late, and no use is made of it when introduced. This is the substance of his story in English:—‘At one of the dances at Pen y Bonc, the heir of Corwrion’s eyes fell on one of the damsels of the fair family, and he was filled with love for her. Courtship and marriage indue timeensued, but he had to agree to two conditions, namely, that he was neither to know her name nor to strike her with iron. By-and-by they had children, and when the husband happened to go, during his wife’s confinement, to a merry-making at Pen y Bonc, the fairies talked together concerning his wife, and in expressing their feelings of sympathy for her, they inadvertently betrayed the mystery of her name by mentioning it within his hearing. Years rolled on, when the husband and wife went out together one day to catch a colt of theirs that had not been broken in, their object being to go to Conway Fair. Now, as she was swifter of foot than her husband, she got hold of the colt by the mane, and called out to him to throw her a halter, but instead of throwing her the one she asked for, he threw another with iron in it, which struck her. Off she went into the lake. A grandson of this fairy many years afterwards married one of the girls of Corwrion. They had a large piece of land, but no means of stocking it, so that they felt rather distressed in their minds. But lo and behold! one day a white-headed bull came out of the lake, bringing with him six black cows to their land. There never were the like of those cows for milk, and great was the prosperity of their owners, as well as the envy it kindled in their neighbours’ breasts. But when they both grew old and died, the bull and the cows went back into the lake.’Now I add the other sayings about theTylwyth Teg,which Dewi Glan Ffrydlas has kindly collected for me, beginning with a blurred story about changelings:—‘Once on a time, in the fourteenth century, the wife of a man at Corwrion had twins, and she complained one day to a witch, who lived close by, at Tyđyn y Barcud, that the children were not getting on, but that they were always crying day and night. “Are you sure that they are your children?” asked the witch, adding that it did not seem to her that they were like hers. “I have my doubts also,” said the mother. “I wonder if somebody has exchanged children with you,” said the witch. “I do not know,” said the mother. “But why do you not seek to know?” asked the other. “But how am I to go about it?” said the mother. The witch replied, “Go and do something rather strange before their eyes and watch what they will say to one another.” “Well, I do not know what I should do,” said the mother. “Well,” said the other, “take an egg-shell, and proceed to brew beer in it in a chamber aside, and come here to tell me what the children will say about it.” She went home and did as the witch had directed her, when the two children lifted their heads out of the cradle to find what she was doing—to watch and to listen. Then one observed to the other, “I remember seeing an oak having an acorn,” to which the other replied, “And I remember seeing a hen having an egg”; and one of the two added, “But I do not remember before seeing anybody brew beer in the shell of a hen’s egg.” The mother then went to the witch and told her what the twins had said one to the other; and she directed her to go to a small wooden bridge, not far off, with one of the strange children under each arm, and there to drop them from the bridge into the river beneath. The mother went back home again and did as she had been directed. When she reached homethis time, she found to her astonishment that her own children had been brought back.’Next comes a story about a midwife who lived at Corwrion. ‘One of the fairies called to ask her to come and attend on his wife. Off she went with him, and she was astonished to be taken into a splendid palace. There she continued to go night and morning to dress the baby for some time, until one day the husband asked her to rub her eyes with a certain ointment he offered her. She did so, and found herself sitting on a tuft of rushes, and not in a palace. There was no baby: all had disappeared. Some time afterwards she happened to go to the town, and whom should she there see busily buying various wares, but the fairy on whose wife she had been attending. She addressed him with the question, “How are you to-day?” Instead of answering her, he asked, “How do you see me?” “With my eyes,” was the prompt reply. “Which eye?” he asked. “This one,” said the woman, pointing to it; and instantly he disappeared, never more to be seen by her.’ This tale, as will be seen on comparison later, is incomplete, and probably incorrect.Here is another from Mr. D. E. Davies:—‘One day Guto, the farmer of Corwrion, complained to his wife that he lacked men to mow his hay, when she replied, “Why fret about it? look yonder! There you have a field full of them at it, and stripped to their shirt-sleeves (yn ỻewys eu crysau).” When he went to the spot the sham workmen of the fairy family had disappeared. This same Guto—or somebody else—happened another time to be ploughing, when he heard some person he could not see, calling out to him, “I have got thebins(that is thevice) of my plough broken.” “Bring it to me,” said the driver of Guto’s team, “that I may mend it.” When they finished the furrow, they found thebroken vice, with a barrel of beer placed near it. One of the men sat down and mended the vice. Then they made another furrow, and when they returned to the spot they found there a two-eared dish filled to the brim withbara a chwrw, or “bread and beer.” The wordvice, I may observe, is an English term, which is applied in Carnarvonshire to a certain part of the plough: it is otherwise calledbins, but neither does this seem to be a Welsh word, nor have I heard either used in South Wales.At times one of the fairies was in the habit, as I was told by more than one of my informants, of coming out of Ỻyn Corwrion with her spinning-wheel (troeỻ bach) on fine summer days and betaking herself to spinning. While at that work she might be heard constantly singing or humming, in a sort of round tune, the wordssìli ffrit. So thatsìli ffrit Leisa Bèlamay now be heard from the mouths of the children in that neighbourhood. But I have not been successful in finding out what Liza Bella’s ‘silly frit’ exactly means, though I am, on the whole, convinced that the words are other than of Welsh origin. The last of them,ffrit, is usually applied in Cardiganshire to anything worthless or insignificant, and the derivative,ffrityn, means one who has no go or perseverance in him: the feminine isffriten. In Carnarvonshire my wife has heardffritynandffritanapplied to a small man and a small woman respectively. Mr. Hughes says that in Merioneth and parts of Powyssìli ffritis a term applied to a small woman or a female dwarf who happens to be proud, vain, and fond of the attentions of the other sex (benyw fach neu goraches falch a hunanol a fyđai hoff o garu); but he thinks he has heard it made use of with regard to the gipsies, and possibly also to theTylwyth Teg. The Rev. O.Davies thinks the wordssìli ffrit Leisa Bèlato be very modern, and that they refer to a young woman who lived at a place in the neighbourhood, called Bryn Bèla or Brymbèla, ‘Bella’s Hill,’ the point being that this Bella was ahead, in her time, of all the girls in those parts in matters of taste and fashion. This however does not seem to go far enough back, and it is possible still that inBèla, that is, in English spelling,Bella, we have merely a shortening of some such a name as Isabella or Arabella, which were once much more popular in the Principality than they are now: in fact, I do not feel sure thatLeisa Bèlais not bodily a corruption ofIsabella. As tosìli ffrit, one might at first have been inclined to render it by small fry, especially in the sense of the French ‘de la friture’ as applied to young men and boys, and to connect it with the Welshsilandsilod, which mean small fish; but the pronunciation ofsilliorsìlibeing nearly that of the English wordsilly, it appears, on the whole, to belong to the host of English words to be found in colloquial Welsh, though they seldom find their way into books. Students of English ought to be able to tell us whetherfrithad the meaning here suggested in any part of England, and how lately; also, whether there was such a phrase as ‘silly frit’ in use. After penning this, I received the following interesting communication from Mr. William Jones, of Ỻangoỻen:—The termsìli ffritwas formerly in use at Beđgelert, and what was thereby meant was a child of theTylwyth Teg. It is still used for any creature that is smaller than ordinary. ‘Pooh, a silly frit like that!’ (Pw, rhyw sìli ffrit fel yna!). ‘Mrs. So-and-So has a fine child.’ ‘Ha, do you call a silly frit like that a fine child?’ (Mae gan hon a hon blentyn braf. Ho, a ydych chwi’n galw rhyw sìli ffrit fel hwnna’nbraf?) To return to Leisa Bèla and Belenë, it may be that the same person was meant by both these names, but I am in no hurry to identify them, as none of my correspondents knows the latter of them except Mr. Hughes, who gives it on the authority of the bard Gutyn Peris, and nothing further so far as I can understand, whereas Bèla will come before us in another story, as it is the same name, I presume, which Glasynys has spelledBellainCymru Fu.So I wrote in 1881: since then I have ascertained from Professor Joseph Wright, who is busily engaged on his greatEnglish Dialect Dictionary, thatfrit27is the same word, in the dialects of Cheshire, Shropshire, and Pembrokeshire, asfrightin literary English; and that the corresponding verb tofrightenis in themfritten, while afrittenin(= the book Englishfrightening) means a ghost or apparition. Sosìli ffritis simply the Englishsilly frit, and means probably a silly sprite or silly ghost, andsìli ffrit Leisa Bèlawould mean the silly ghost of a woman called Liza Bella. But the silly frit found spinning near Corwrion Pool will come under notice again, for that fairy belongs to the Rumpelstiltzchen group of tales, and the fragment of a story about her will be seen to have treated Silly Frit as her proper name, which she had not intended to reach the ears of the person of whom she was trying to get the better.These tales are brought into connexion with the present day in more ways than one, for besides the various accounts of thebwganodor bogies of Corwrion frightening people when out late at night, Mr. D. E. Davies knows a man, who is still living, and whowell remembers the time when the sound of working used to be heard in the pool, and the voices of children crying somewhere in its depths, but that when people rushed there to see what the matter was, all was found profoundly quiet and still. Moreover, there is a family or two, now numerously represented in the parishes of Ỻandegai and Ỻanỻechid, who used to be taunted with being the offspring of fairy ancestors. One of these families was nicknamed ‘Simychiaid’ or ‘Smychiaid’; and my informant, who is not yet quite forty, says that he heard his mother repeat scores of times that the old people used to say, that the Smychiaid, who were very numerous in the neighbourhood, were descended from fairies, and that they came from Ỻyn Corwrion. At all this the Smychiaid were wont to grow mightily angry. Another tradition, he says, about them was that they were a wandering family that arrived in the district from the direction of Conway, and that the father’s name was a Simwch, or rather that was his nickname, based on the proper name Simwnt, which appears to have once been the prevalent name in Ỻandegai. The historical order of these words would in that case have beenSimwnt,Simwch,Simychiaid,Smychiaid. NowSimwntseems to be merely the Welsh form given to some such English name asSimond, just asEdmundorEdmondbecomes in North WalesEmwnt. The objection to the nickname seems to lie in the fact, which one of my correspondents points out to me, that Simwch is understood to mean a monkey, a point on which I should like to have further information. Pughe givessimach, it is true, as having the meaning of the Latinsimia. A branch of the same family is said to be called ‘y Cowperiaid’ or the Coopers, from an ancestor who was either by name or by trade a cooper.Mr. Hughes’ account of the Smychiaid was, that they are the descendants of one Simonds, who came to be a bailiff at Bodysgaỻan, near Deganwy, and moved from there to Coetmor in the neighbourhood of Corwrion. Simonds was obnoxious to the bards, he goes on to say, and they described the Smychiaid as having arrived in the parish at the bottom of acaweỻ, ‘a creel or basket carried on the back,’ when chance would have it that thecaweỻcord snapped just in that neighbourhood, at a place called Pont y Ỻan. That accident is described, according to Mr. Hughes, in the following doggerel, the origin of which I do not know—E dorai ’r arwest, ede wan,Brwnt y ỻe, ar Bont y Ỻan.The cord would snap, feeble yarn,At that nasty spot, Pont y Ỻan.Curiously enough, the samecaweỻstory used to be said of a widely spread family in North Cardiganshire, whose surname was pronounced Massn and written Mason or Mazon: as my mother was of this family, I have often heard it. Thecaweỻ, if I remember rightly, was said, in this instance, to have come from Scotland, to which were traced three men who settled in North Cardiganshire. One had no descendants, but the other two, Mason and Peel—I think his name was Peel, but I am only sure that it was not Welsh—had so many, that the Masons, at any rate, are exceedingly numerous there; but a great many of them, owing to some extent, probably, to thecaweỻstory, have been silly enough to change their name into that of Jones, some of them in my time. The three men came there probably for refuge in the course of troubles in Scotland, as a Frazer and a Francis did to Anglesey. At any rate, I have never heard it suggested that they were of aquatic origin, but, taking thecaweỻinto consideration, and the popular account ofthe Smychiaid, I should be inclined to think that thecaweỻoriginally referred to some such a supposed descent. I only hope that somebody will help us with another and a longercaweỻtale, which will make up for the brevity of these allusions. We may, however, assume, I think, that there was a tendency at one time in Gwyneđ, if not in other parts of the Principality, to believe, or pretend to believe, that the descendants of an Englishman or Scotsman, who settled among the old inhabitants, were of fairy origin, and that their history was somehow uncanny, which was all, of course, duly resented. This helps, to some extent, to explain how names of doubtful origin have got into these tales, such asSmychiaid,Cowperiaid,Pellings,Penelope,Leisa BèlaorIsabella, and the like. This association of the lake legends with intruders from without is what has, perhaps, in a great measure served to rescue such legends from utter oblivion.As to a church at Corwrion, the tradition does not seem to be an old one, and it appears founded on one of the popular etymologies of the word Corwrion, which treats the first syllable ascorin the sense of a choir; but the word has other meanings, including among them that of an ox-stall or enclosure for cattle. Taking this as coming near the true explanation, it at once suggests itself, that Creuwyryon in theMabinogiof Math ab Mathonwy is the same place, forcreuorcraualso meant an enclosure for animals, including swine. In Irish the word iscró, an enclosure, a hut or hovel. The passage in theMabinogi28relates to Gwydion returning with the swine he had got by dint of magic and deceit from Pryderi, prince of Dyfed, and runs thus in Lady Charlotte Guest’s translation: ‘So they journeyed on to the highest town of Arỻechweđ,and there they made a sty (creu) for the swine, and therefore was the name of Creuwyryon given to that town.’ As towyryonorwyrion, which we find made intowrionin Corwrion according to the modern habit, it would seem to be no other word than the usual plural ofwyr, a grandson, formerly also any descendant in the direct line. If so, the name of an ancestor must have originally followed, just as one of the places called Bettws was onceBetws Wyrion Iđon, ‘the Bettws of Iđon’s Descendants’; but it is possible thatwyrionin Creu- or Cor-wyrion was itself a man’s name, though I have never met with it. It is right to add that the name appears in theRecord of Carnarvon(pp. 12, 25, 26) as Creweryon, which carries us back to the first half of the fourteenth century. There it occurs as the name of a township containing eight gavels, and the particulars about it might, in the hand of one familiar with the tenures of that time, perhaps give us valuable information as to what may have been its status at a still earlier date.

V.

The Rev. O. Davies regarded the Ỻanỻechid legend as so very like the one he got about Cweỻyn Lake and the Waen Fawr, that he has not written the former out at length, but merely pointed out the following differences: (1) Instead of Cweỻyn, the lake in the former is the pool of Corwrion, in the parish of Ỻandegai, near Bangor. (2) What the Lake Lady was struck with wasnot a bridle, but an iron fetter: the word used isỻyfether, which probably means a long fetter connecting a fore-foot and a hind-foot of a horse together. In Arfon, the word is applied also to a cord tying the two fore-feet together, but in Cardiganshire this would be called ahual, the other word, there pronouncedllowethir, being confined to the long fetter. In books, the word is writtenllywethair,llefethairandllyffethairorllyffethar, which is possibly the pronunciation in parts of North Wales, especially Arfon. This is an interesting word, as it is no other than the English term ‘long fetter,’ borrowed into Welsh; as, in fact, it was also into Irish early enough to call for an article on it in Cormac’sIrish Glossary, wherelangfiteris described as an English word for a fetter between the fore and the hind legs: in Anglo-Manx it is becomelanketer. (3) The field in which they were trying to catch the horse is, in the Ỻanỻechid version, specified as that called Maes Madog, at the foot of the Ỻefn. (4) When the fairy wife ran away, it was headlong into the pool of Corwrion, calling after her all her milch cows, and they followed her with the utmost readiness.Before going on to mention bits of information I have received from others about the Ỻanỻechid legend, I think it best here to finish with the items given me by Mr. O. Davies, whom I cannot too cordially thank for his readiness to answer my questions. Among other things, he expresses himself to the following effect:— ‘It is to this day a tradition—and I have heard it a hundred times—that the dairy of Corwrion excelled all other dairies in those parts, that the milk was better and more plentiful, and that the cheese and butter were better there than in all the country round, the reason assigned being that the cattle on the farm of Corwrion had mixed with the breed belonging to the fairy, whohad run away after being struck with the iron fetter. However that may be, I remember perfectly well the high terms of praise in which the cows of Corwrion used to be spoken of as being remarkable for their milk and the profit they yielded; and, when I was a boy, I used to hear people talk ofTarw Penwyn Corwrion, or “the White-headed Bull of Corwrion,” as derived from the breed of cattle which had formed the fairy maiden’s dowry.’My next informant is Mr. Hugh Derfel Hughes, of Pendinas, Ỻandegai24, who has been kind enough to give me the version, of which I here give the substance in English, premising that Mr. Hughes says that he has lived about thirty-four years within a mile of the pool and farm house called Corwrion, and that he has refreshed his memory of the legend by questioning separately no less than three old people, who had been bred and born at or near that spot. He is a native of Merioneth, but has lived at Ỻandegai for the last thirty-seven years, his age now being sixty-six. I may add that Mr. Hughes is a local antiquary of great industry and zeal; and that he published a book on the antiquities of the district, under the title ofHynafiaethau Ỻandegai a Ỻanỻechid, that is ‘the Antiquities of Ỻandegai and Ỻanỻechid’ (Bethesda, 1866); but it is out of print, and I have had some trouble to procure a copy:—‘In old times, when the fairies showed themselves much oftener to men than they do now, they made their home in the bottomless pool of Corwrion, in Upper Arỻechweđ, in that wild portion of Gwyneđ calledArfon. On fine mornings in the month of June these diminutive and nimble folk might be seen in a regular line vigorously engaged in mowing hay, with their cattle in herds busily grazing in the fields near Corwrion. This was a sight which often met the eyes of the people on the sides of the hills around, even on Sundays; but when they hurried down to them they found the fields empty, with the sham workmen and their cows gone, all gone. At other times they might be heard hammering away like miners, shovelling rubbish aside, or emptying their carts of stones. At times they took to singing all the night long, greatly to the delight of the people about, who dearly loved to hear them; and, besides singing so charmingly, they sometimes formed into companies for dancing, and their movements were marvellously graceful and attractive. But it was not safe to go too near the lake late at night, for once a brave girl, who was troubled with toothache, got up at midnight and went to the brink of the water in search of the root of a plant that grows there full of the power to kill all pain in the teeth. But, as she was plucking up a bit of it, there burst on her ear, from the depths of the lake, such a shriek as drove her back into the house breathless with fear and trembling; but whether this was not the doing of a stray fairy, who had been frightened out of her wits at being suddenly overtaken by a damsel in her nightdress, or the ordinary fairy way of curing the toothache, tradition does not tell. For sometimes, at any rate, the fairies busied themselves in doing good to the men and women who were their neighbours, as when they tried to teach them to keep all promises and covenants to which they pledged themselves. A certain man and his wife, to whom they wished to teach this good habit, have never been forgotten. The husband had been behaving ashe ought, until one day, as he held the plough, with the wife guiding his team, he broke his covenant towards her by treating her harshly and unkindly. No sooner had he done so, than he was snatched through the air and plunged in the lake. When the wife went to the brink of the water to ask for him back, the reply she had was, that he was there, and that there he should be.‘The fairies when engaged in dancing allowed themselves to be gazed at, a sight which was wont greatly to attract the young men of the neighbourhood, and once on a time the son and heir of the owner of Corwrion fell deeply in love with one of the graceful maidens who danced in the fairy ring, for she was wondrously beautiful and pretty beyond compare. His passion for her ere long resulted in courtship, and soon in their being married, which took place on the express understanding, that firstly the husband was not to know her name, though he might give her any name he chose; and, secondly, that he might now and then beat her with a rod, if she chanced to misbehave towards him; but he was not to strike her with iron on pain of her leaving him at once. This covenant was kept for some years, so that they lived happily together and had four children, of whom the two youngest were a boy and a girl. But one day as they went to one of the fields of Bryn Twrw in the direction of Pennarđ Gron, to catch a pony, the fairy wife, being so much nimbler than her husband, ran before him and had her hand in the pony’s mane in no time. She called out to her husband to throw her a halter, but instead of that he threw towards her a bridle with an iron bit, which, as bad luck would have it, struck her. The wife at once flew through the air, and plunged headlong into Corwrion Pool. The husband returnedsighing and weeping towards Bryn Twrw, “Noise Hill,” and when he had reached it, thetwrw, “noise,” there was greater than had ever been heard before, namely that of weeping after “Belenë”; and it was then, after he had struck her with iron, that he first learnt what his wife’s name was. Belenë never came back to her husband, but the feelings of a mother once brought her to the window of his bedroom, where she gave him the following order:—Os byđ anwyd ar fy mab,Rho’wch am dano gob ei dad;Os anwydog a fyđ can25,Rho’wch am dani bais ei mam.If my son should feel it cold,Let him wear his father’s coat;If the fair one feel the cold,Let her wear my petticoat.‘As years and years rolled on a grandson of Belenë’s fell in love with a beautiful damsel who lived at a neighbouring farm house called Tai Teulwriaid, and against the will of his father and mother they married, but they had nothing to stock their land with. So one morning what was their astonishment, when they got up, to see grazing quietly in the field six black cows and a white-headed bull, which had come up out of the lake as stock for them from old grannie Belenë? They served them well with milk and butter for many a long year, but on the day the last of the family died, the six black cows and the white-headed bull disappeared into the lake, never more to be seen.’Mr. Hughes referred to no less than three other versions, as follows:—(1) According to one account, the husband was ploughing, with the wife leading the team, when by chance he came across her and the accident happened. The wife then flew away like a wood-hen (iar goed) into the lake. (2) Another says that they were in a stable trying to bridle one of thehorses, when the misfortune took place through inadvertence. (3) A third specifies the field in front of the house at Corwrion as the place where the final accident took place, when they were busied with the cows and horses.To these I would add the following traditions, which Mr. Hughes further gives. Sometimes the inhabitants, who seem to have been on the whole on good terms with the fairies, used to heat water and leave it in a vessel on the hearth overnight for the fairies to wash their children in it. This they considered such a kindness that they always left behind them on the hearth a handful of their money. Some pieces are said to have been sometimes found in the fields near Corwrion, and that they consisted of coins which were smaller than our halfpennies, but bigger than farthings, and had a harp on one side. But the tradition is not very definite on these points.Here also I may as well refer to a similar tale which I got last year at Ỻanberis from a man who is a native of the Ỻanỻechid side of the mountain, though he now lives at Ỻanberis. He is about fifty-five years of age, and remembers hearing in his youth a tale connected with a house called Hafoty’r Famaeth, in a very lonely situation on Ỻanỻechid Mountain, and now represented only by some old ruined walls. It was to the effect that one night, when the man who lived there was away from home, his wife, who had a youngish baby, washed him on the hearth, left the water there, and went to bed with her little one: she woke up in the night to find that theTylwyth Tegwere in possession of the hearth, and busily engaged in washing their children. That is all I got of this tale of a well-known type.To return to Mr. Hughes’ communications, I would select from them some remarks on the topography ofthe teeming home of the fairies. He estimated the lake or pool of Corwrion to be about 120 yards long, and adds that it is nearly round; but he thinks it was formerly considerably larger, as a cutting was made some eighty or a hundred years ago to lead water from it to Penrhyn Castle; but even then its size would not approach that ascribed to it by popular belief, according to which it was no less than three miles long. In fact it was believed that there was once a town of Corwrion which was swallowed up by the lake, a sort of idea which one meets with in many parts of Wales, and some of the natives are said to be able to discern the houses under the water. This must have been near the end which is not bottomless, the latter being indicated by a spot which is said never to freeze even in hard winters. Old men remember it the resort of herons, cormorants, and the water-hen (hobi wen). Near the banks there grew, besides the water-lily, various kinds of rushes and sedges, which were formerly much used for making mats and other useful articles. It was also once famous for eels of a large size, but it is not supposed to have contained fish until Lord Penrhyn placed some there in recent years. It teemed, however, with leeches of three different kinds so recently that an old man still living describes to Mr. Hughes his simple way of catching them when he was a boy, namely, by walking bare-legged in the water: in a few minutes he landed with nine or ten leeches sticking to his legs, some of which fetched a shilling each from the medical men of those days. Corwrion is now a farm house occupied by Mr. William Griffiths, a grandson of the late bard Gutyn Peris. When Mr. Hughes called to make inquiries about the legend, he found there the foundations of several old buildings, and several pieces of old querns about the place. Hethinks that there belonged to Corwrion in former times, a mill and a fuller’s house, which he seems to infer from the names of two neighbouring houses called ‘Y Felin Hen,’ the Old Mill, and ‘Pandy Tre Garth,’ the Fulling Mill of Tregarth, respectively. He also alludes to agefailor smithy there, in which one Rhys ab Robert used to work, not to mention that a great quantity of ashes, such as come from a smithy, are found at the end of the lake furthest from the farm house. The spot on which Corwrion stands is part of the ground between the Ogwen and another stream which bears the name of ‘Afon Cegin Arthur,’ or the River of Arthur’s Kitchen, and most of the houses and fields about have names which have suggested various notions to the people there: such are the farms called ‘Coed Howel,’ whence the belief in the neighbourhood that Howel Đa, King of Wales, lived here. About him Mr. Hughes has a great deal to say: among other things, that he had boats on Corwrion lake, and that he was wont to present the citizens of Bangor yearly with 300 fat geese reared on the waters of the same. I am referred by another man to a lecture delivered in the neighbourhood on these and similar things by the late bard and antiquary the Rev. Robert Ellis (Cynđelw), but I have never come across a copy. A field near Corwrion is called ‘Cae Stabal,’ or the Field of the Stable, which contains the remains of a row of stables, as it is supposed, and of a number of mangers where Howel’s horses were once fed. In a neighbouring wood, called ‘Parc y Geỻi’ or ‘Hopiar y Geỻi,’ my informant goes on to say, there are to be seen the foundations of seventeen or eighteen old hut-circles, and near them some think they see the site of an old church. About a mile to the south-east of Corwrion is Pendinas, which Mr. Hughes describes asan old triangular Welsh fortress, on the bank of the Ogwen; and within two stone’s-throws or so of Corwrion on the south side of it, and a little to the west of Bryn Twrw mentioned in the legend, is situated Penarđ Gron, acaeror fort, which he describes as being, before it was razed in his time, forty-two yards long by thirty-two wide, and defended by a sort of rampart of earth and stone several yards wide at the base. It used to be the resort of the country people for dancing, cock-fighting26, and other amusements on Sundays. Near it was a cairn, which, when it was dug into, was found to cover a kistvaen, a pot, and a quern: a variety of tales attaching to it are told concerning ghosts, caves, and hidden treasures. Altogether Mr. Hughes is strongly of opinion that Corwrion and its immediate surroundings represent a spot which at one time had great importance; and I see no reason wholly to doubt the correctness of that conclusion, but it would be interesting to know whether Penrhyn used, as Mr. Hughes suggests, to be called Penrhyn Corwrion; there ought, perhaps, to be no great difficulty in ascertaining this, as some of the Penrhyn estate appears to have been the subject of litigation in times gone by.Before leaving Mr. Hughes’ notes, I must here give his too brief account of another thing connected with Corwrion, though, perhaps, not with the legends here in question. I allude to what he calls the Lantern Ghost (Ysbryd y Lantar):—‘There used to be formerly,’ he says, ‘and there is still at Corwrion, a good-sized sour apple-tree, which during the winter half of the year used to be lit up by fire. It began slowly andgrew greater until the whole seemed to be in a blaze. He was told by an old woman that she formerly knew old people who declared they had seen it. In the same way the trees in Hopiar y Geỻi appeared, according to them, to be also lit up with fire.’ This reminds me of Mr. Fitzgerald’s account of the Irish Bile-Tineadh in theRevue Celtique, iv. 194.After communicating to me the notes of which the foregoing are abstracts, Mr. Hughes kindly got me a version of the legend from Mr. David Thomas, of Pont y Wern, in the same neighbourhood, but as it contains nothing which I have not already given from Mr. Hughes’ own, I pass it by. Mr. Thomas, however, has heard that the number of the houses making up the town of Corwrion some six or seven centuries ago was about seventy-five; but they were exactly seventy-three according to my next informant, Mr. David Evan Davies, of Treflys, Bethesda, better known by his bardic name of Dewi Glan Ffrydlas. Both these gentlemen have also heard the tradition that there was a church at Corwrion, where there used to be every Sunday a single service, after which the people went to a spot not far off to amuse themselves, and at night to watch the fairies dancing, or to mix with them while they danced in a ring around a glow-worm. According to Dewi Glan Ffrydlas, the spot was the Pen y Bonc, already mentioned, which means, among other things, that they chose a rising ground. This is referred to in a modern rhyme, which runs thus:—A’r Tylwyth Teg yn dawnsio’n sioncO gylch magïen Pen y Bonc.With the fairies nimbly dancing roundThe glow-worm on the Rising Ground.Dewi Glan Ffrydlas has kindly gone to the trouble of giving me a brief, but complete, version of the legend as he has heard it. It will be noticed that the discoveringof the fairy’s name is an idle incident in this version: it is brought in too late, and no use is made of it when introduced. This is the substance of his story in English:—‘At one of the dances at Pen y Bonc, the heir of Corwrion’s eyes fell on one of the damsels of the fair family, and he was filled with love for her. Courtship and marriage indue timeensued, but he had to agree to two conditions, namely, that he was neither to know her name nor to strike her with iron. By-and-by they had children, and when the husband happened to go, during his wife’s confinement, to a merry-making at Pen y Bonc, the fairies talked together concerning his wife, and in expressing their feelings of sympathy for her, they inadvertently betrayed the mystery of her name by mentioning it within his hearing. Years rolled on, when the husband and wife went out together one day to catch a colt of theirs that had not been broken in, their object being to go to Conway Fair. Now, as she was swifter of foot than her husband, she got hold of the colt by the mane, and called out to him to throw her a halter, but instead of throwing her the one she asked for, he threw another with iron in it, which struck her. Off she went into the lake. A grandson of this fairy many years afterwards married one of the girls of Corwrion. They had a large piece of land, but no means of stocking it, so that they felt rather distressed in their minds. But lo and behold! one day a white-headed bull came out of the lake, bringing with him six black cows to their land. There never were the like of those cows for milk, and great was the prosperity of their owners, as well as the envy it kindled in their neighbours’ breasts. But when they both grew old and died, the bull and the cows went back into the lake.’Now I add the other sayings about theTylwyth Teg,which Dewi Glan Ffrydlas has kindly collected for me, beginning with a blurred story about changelings:—‘Once on a time, in the fourteenth century, the wife of a man at Corwrion had twins, and she complained one day to a witch, who lived close by, at Tyđyn y Barcud, that the children were not getting on, but that they were always crying day and night. “Are you sure that they are your children?” asked the witch, adding that it did not seem to her that they were like hers. “I have my doubts also,” said the mother. “I wonder if somebody has exchanged children with you,” said the witch. “I do not know,” said the mother. “But why do you not seek to know?” asked the other. “But how am I to go about it?” said the mother. The witch replied, “Go and do something rather strange before their eyes and watch what they will say to one another.” “Well, I do not know what I should do,” said the mother. “Well,” said the other, “take an egg-shell, and proceed to brew beer in it in a chamber aside, and come here to tell me what the children will say about it.” She went home and did as the witch had directed her, when the two children lifted their heads out of the cradle to find what she was doing—to watch and to listen. Then one observed to the other, “I remember seeing an oak having an acorn,” to which the other replied, “And I remember seeing a hen having an egg”; and one of the two added, “But I do not remember before seeing anybody brew beer in the shell of a hen’s egg.” The mother then went to the witch and told her what the twins had said one to the other; and she directed her to go to a small wooden bridge, not far off, with one of the strange children under each arm, and there to drop them from the bridge into the river beneath. The mother went back home again and did as she had been directed. When she reached homethis time, she found to her astonishment that her own children had been brought back.’Next comes a story about a midwife who lived at Corwrion. ‘One of the fairies called to ask her to come and attend on his wife. Off she went with him, and she was astonished to be taken into a splendid palace. There she continued to go night and morning to dress the baby for some time, until one day the husband asked her to rub her eyes with a certain ointment he offered her. She did so, and found herself sitting on a tuft of rushes, and not in a palace. There was no baby: all had disappeared. Some time afterwards she happened to go to the town, and whom should she there see busily buying various wares, but the fairy on whose wife she had been attending. She addressed him with the question, “How are you to-day?” Instead of answering her, he asked, “How do you see me?” “With my eyes,” was the prompt reply. “Which eye?” he asked. “This one,” said the woman, pointing to it; and instantly he disappeared, never more to be seen by her.’ This tale, as will be seen on comparison later, is incomplete, and probably incorrect.Here is another from Mr. D. E. Davies:—‘One day Guto, the farmer of Corwrion, complained to his wife that he lacked men to mow his hay, when she replied, “Why fret about it? look yonder! There you have a field full of them at it, and stripped to their shirt-sleeves (yn ỻewys eu crysau).” When he went to the spot the sham workmen of the fairy family had disappeared. This same Guto—or somebody else—happened another time to be ploughing, when he heard some person he could not see, calling out to him, “I have got thebins(that is thevice) of my plough broken.” “Bring it to me,” said the driver of Guto’s team, “that I may mend it.” When they finished the furrow, they found thebroken vice, with a barrel of beer placed near it. One of the men sat down and mended the vice. Then they made another furrow, and when they returned to the spot they found there a two-eared dish filled to the brim withbara a chwrw, or “bread and beer.” The wordvice, I may observe, is an English term, which is applied in Carnarvonshire to a certain part of the plough: it is otherwise calledbins, but neither does this seem to be a Welsh word, nor have I heard either used in South Wales.At times one of the fairies was in the habit, as I was told by more than one of my informants, of coming out of Ỻyn Corwrion with her spinning-wheel (troeỻ bach) on fine summer days and betaking herself to spinning. While at that work she might be heard constantly singing or humming, in a sort of round tune, the wordssìli ffrit. So thatsìli ffrit Leisa Bèlamay now be heard from the mouths of the children in that neighbourhood. But I have not been successful in finding out what Liza Bella’s ‘silly frit’ exactly means, though I am, on the whole, convinced that the words are other than of Welsh origin. The last of them,ffrit, is usually applied in Cardiganshire to anything worthless or insignificant, and the derivative,ffrityn, means one who has no go or perseverance in him: the feminine isffriten. In Carnarvonshire my wife has heardffritynandffritanapplied to a small man and a small woman respectively. Mr. Hughes says that in Merioneth and parts of Powyssìli ffritis a term applied to a small woman or a female dwarf who happens to be proud, vain, and fond of the attentions of the other sex (benyw fach neu goraches falch a hunanol a fyđai hoff o garu); but he thinks he has heard it made use of with regard to the gipsies, and possibly also to theTylwyth Teg. The Rev. O.Davies thinks the wordssìli ffrit Leisa Bèlato be very modern, and that they refer to a young woman who lived at a place in the neighbourhood, called Bryn Bèla or Brymbèla, ‘Bella’s Hill,’ the point being that this Bella was ahead, in her time, of all the girls in those parts in matters of taste and fashion. This however does not seem to go far enough back, and it is possible still that inBèla, that is, in English spelling,Bella, we have merely a shortening of some such a name as Isabella or Arabella, which were once much more popular in the Principality than they are now: in fact, I do not feel sure thatLeisa Bèlais not bodily a corruption ofIsabella. As tosìli ffrit, one might at first have been inclined to render it by small fry, especially in the sense of the French ‘de la friture’ as applied to young men and boys, and to connect it with the Welshsilandsilod, which mean small fish; but the pronunciation ofsilliorsìlibeing nearly that of the English wordsilly, it appears, on the whole, to belong to the host of English words to be found in colloquial Welsh, though they seldom find their way into books. Students of English ought to be able to tell us whetherfrithad the meaning here suggested in any part of England, and how lately; also, whether there was such a phrase as ‘silly frit’ in use. After penning this, I received the following interesting communication from Mr. William Jones, of Ỻangoỻen:—The termsìli ffritwas formerly in use at Beđgelert, and what was thereby meant was a child of theTylwyth Teg. It is still used for any creature that is smaller than ordinary. ‘Pooh, a silly frit like that!’ (Pw, rhyw sìli ffrit fel yna!). ‘Mrs. So-and-So has a fine child.’ ‘Ha, do you call a silly frit like that a fine child?’ (Mae gan hon a hon blentyn braf. Ho, a ydych chwi’n galw rhyw sìli ffrit fel hwnna’nbraf?) To return to Leisa Bèla and Belenë, it may be that the same person was meant by both these names, but I am in no hurry to identify them, as none of my correspondents knows the latter of them except Mr. Hughes, who gives it on the authority of the bard Gutyn Peris, and nothing further so far as I can understand, whereas Bèla will come before us in another story, as it is the same name, I presume, which Glasynys has spelledBellainCymru Fu.So I wrote in 1881: since then I have ascertained from Professor Joseph Wright, who is busily engaged on his greatEnglish Dialect Dictionary, thatfrit27is the same word, in the dialects of Cheshire, Shropshire, and Pembrokeshire, asfrightin literary English; and that the corresponding verb tofrightenis in themfritten, while afrittenin(= the book Englishfrightening) means a ghost or apparition. Sosìli ffritis simply the Englishsilly frit, and means probably a silly sprite or silly ghost, andsìli ffrit Leisa Bèlawould mean the silly ghost of a woman called Liza Bella. But the silly frit found spinning near Corwrion Pool will come under notice again, for that fairy belongs to the Rumpelstiltzchen group of tales, and the fragment of a story about her will be seen to have treated Silly Frit as her proper name, which she had not intended to reach the ears of the person of whom she was trying to get the better.These tales are brought into connexion with the present day in more ways than one, for besides the various accounts of thebwganodor bogies of Corwrion frightening people when out late at night, Mr. D. E. Davies knows a man, who is still living, and whowell remembers the time when the sound of working used to be heard in the pool, and the voices of children crying somewhere in its depths, but that when people rushed there to see what the matter was, all was found profoundly quiet and still. Moreover, there is a family or two, now numerously represented in the parishes of Ỻandegai and Ỻanỻechid, who used to be taunted with being the offspring of fairy ancestors. One of these families was nicknamed ‘Simychiaid’ or ‘Smychiaid’; and my informant, who is not yet quite forty, says that he heard his mother repeat scores of times that the old people used to say, that the Smychiaid, who were very numerous in the neighbourhood, were descended from fairies, and that they came from Ỻyn Corwrion. At all this the Smychiaid were wont to grow mightily angry. Another tradition, he says, about them was that they were a wandering family that arrived in the district from the direction of Conway, and that the father’s name was a Simwch, or rather that was his nickname, based on the proper name Simwnt, which appears to have once been the prevalent name in Ỻandegai. The historical order of these words would in that case have beenSimwnt,Simwch,Simychiaid,Smychiaid. NowSimwntseems to be merely the Welsh form given to some such English name asSimond, just asEdmundorEdmondbecomes in North WalesEmwnt. The objection to the nickname seems to lie in the fact, which one of my correspondents points out to me, that Simwch is understood to mean a monkey, a point on which I should like to have further information. Pughe givessimach, it is true, as having the meaning of the Latinsimia. A branch of the same family is said to be called ‘y Cowperiaid’ or the Coopers, from an ancestor who was either by name or by trade a cooper.Mr. Hughes’ account of the Smychiaid was, that they are the descendants of one Simonds, who came to be a bailiff at Bodysgaỻan, near Deganwy, and moved from there to Coetmor in the neighbourhood of Corwrion. Simonds was obnoxious to the bards, he goes on to say, and they described the Smychiaid as having arrived in the parish at the bottom of acaweỻ, ‘a creel or basket carried on the back,’ when chance would have it that thecaweỻcord snapped just in that neighbourhood, at a place called Pont y Ỻan. That accident is described, according to Mr. Hughes, in the following doggerel, the origin of which I do not know—E dorai ’r arwest, ede wan,Brwnt y ỻe, ar Bont y Ỻan.The cord would snap, feeble yarn,At that nasty spot, Pont y Ỻan.Curiously enough, the samecaweỻstory used to be said of a widely spread family in North Cardiganshire, whose surname was pronounced Massn and written Mason or Mazon: as my mother was of this family, I have often heard it. Thecaweỻ, if I remember rightly, was said, in this instance, to have come from Scotland, to which were traced three men who settled in North Cardiganshire. One had no descendants, but the other two, Mason and Peel—I think his name was Peel, but I am only sure that it was not Welsh—had so many, that the Masons, at any rate, are exceedingly numerous there; but a great many of them, owing to some extent, probably, to thecaweỻstory, have been silly enough to change their name into that of Jones, some of them in my time. The three men came there probably for refuge in the course of troubles in Scotland, as a Frazer and a Francis did to Anglesey. At any rate, I have never heard it suggested that they were of aquatic origin, but, taking thecaweỻinto consideration, and the popular account ofthe Smychiaid, I should be inclined to think that thecaweỻoriginally referred to some such a supposed descent. I only hope that somebody will help us with another and a longercaweỻtale, which will make up for the brevity of these allusions. We may, however, assume, I think, that there was a tendency at one time in Gwyneđ, if not in other parts of the Principality, to believe, or pretend to believe, that the descendants of an Englishman or Scotsman, who settled among the old inhabitants, were of fairy origin, and that their history was somehow uncanny, which was all, of course, duly resented. This helps, to some extent, to explain how names of doubtful origin have got into these tales, such asSmychiaid,Cowperiaid,Pellings,Penelope,Leisa BèlaorIsabella, and the like. This association of the lake legends with intruders from without is what has, perhaps, in a great measure served to rescue such legends from utter oblivion.As to a church at Corwrion, the tradition does not seem to be an old one, and it appears founded on one of the popular etymologies of the word Corwrion, which treats the first syllable ascorin the sense of a choir; but the word has other meanings, including among them that of an ox-stall or enclosure for cattle. Taking this as coming near the true explanation, it at once suggests itself, that Creuwyryon in theMabinogiof Math ab Mathonwy is the same place, forcreuorcraualso meant an enclosure for animals, including swine. In Irish the word iscró, an enclosure, a hut or hovel. The passage in theMabinogi28relates to Gwydion returning with the swine he had got by dint of magic and deceit from Pryderi, prince of Dyfed, and runs thus in Lady Charlotte Guest’s translation: ‘So they journeyed on to the highest town of Arỻechweđ,and there they made a sty (creu) for the swine, and therefore was the name of Creuwyryon given to that town.’ As towyryonorwyrion, which we find made intowrionin Corwrion according to the modern habit, it would seem to be no other word than the usual plural ofwyr, a grandson, formerly also any descendant in the direct line. If so, the name of an ancestor must have originally followed, just as one of the places called Bettws was onceBetws Wyrion Iđon, ‘the Bettws of Iđon’s Descendants’; but it is possible thatwyrionin Creu- or Cor-wyrion was itself a man’s name, though I have never met with it. It is right to add that the name appears in theRecord of Carnarvon(pp. 12, 25, 26) as Creweryon, which carries us back to the first half of the fourteenth century. There it occurs as the name of a township containing eight gavels, and the particulars about it might, in the hand of one familiar with the tenures of that time, perhaps give us valuable information as to what may have been its status at a still earlier date.

The Rev. O. Davies regarded the Ỻanỻechid legend as so very like the one he got about Cweỻyn Lake and the Waen Fawr, that he has not written the former out at length, but merely pointed out the following differences: (1) Instead of Cweỻyn, the lake in the former is the pool of Corwrion, in the parish of Ỻandegai, near Bangor. (2) What the Lake Lady was struck with wasnot a bridle, but an iron fetter: the word used isỻyfether, which probably means a long fetter connecting a fore-foot and a hind-foot of a horse together. In Arfon, the word is applied also to a cord tying the two fore-feet together, but in Cardiganshire this would be called ahual, the other word, there pronouncedllowethir, being confined to the long fetter. In books, the word is writtenllywethair,llefethairandllyffethairorllyffethar, which is possibly the pronunciation in parts of North Wales, especially Arfon. This is an interesting word, as it is no other than the English term ‘long fetter,’ borrowed into Welsh; as, in fact, it was also into Irish early enough to call for an article on it in Cormac’sIrish Glossary, wherelangfiteris described as an English word for a fetter between the fore and the hind legs: in Anglo-Manx it is becomelanketer. (3) The field in which they were trying to catch the horse is, in the Ỻanỻechid version, specified as that called Maes Madog, at the foot of the Ỻefn. (4) When the fairy wife ran away, it was headlong into the pool of Corwrion, calling after her all her milch cows, and they followed her with the utmost readiness.

Before going on to mention bits of information I have received from others about the Ỻanỻechid legend, I think it best here to finish with the items given me by Mr. O. Davies, whom I cannot too cordially thank for his readiness to answer my questions. Among other things, he expresses himself to the following effect:— ‘It is to this day a tradition—and I have heard it a hundred times—that the dairy of Corwrion excelled all other dairies in those parts, that the milk was better and more plentiful, and that the cheese and butter were better there than in all the country round, the reason assigned being that the cattle on the farm of Corwrion had mixed with the breed belonging to the fairy, whohad run away after being struck with the iron fetter. However that may be, I remember perfectly well the high terms of praise in which the cows of Corwrion used to be spoken of as being remarkable for their milk and the profit they yielded; and, when I was a boy, I used to hear people talk ofTarw Penwyn Corwrion, or “the White-headed Bull of Corwrion,” as derived from the breed of cattle which had formed the fairy maiden’s dowry.’

My next informant is Mr. Hugh Derfel Hughes, of Pendinas, Ỻandegai24, who has been kind enough to give me the version, of which I here give the substance in English, premising that Mr. Hughes says that he has lived about thirty-four years within a mile of the pool and farm house called Corwrion, and that he has refreshed his memory of the legend by questioning separately no less than three old people, who had been bred and born at or near that spot. He is a native of Merioneth, but has lived at Ỻandegai for the last thirty-seven years, his age now being sixty-six. I may add that Mr. Hughes is a local antiquary of great industry and zeal; and that he published a book on the antiquities of the district, under the title ofHynafiaethau Ỻandegai a Ỻanỻechid, that is ‘the Antiquities of Ỻandegai and Ỻanỻechid’ (Bethesda, 1866); but it is out of print, and I have had some trouble to procure a copy:—

‘In old times, when the fairies showed themselves much oftener to men than they do now, they made their home in the bottomless pool of Corwrion, in Upper Arỻechweđ, in that wild portion of Gwyneđ calledArfon. On fine mornings in the month of June these diminutive and nimble folk might be seen in a regular line vigorously engaged in mowing hay, with their cattle in herds busily grazing in the fields near Corwrion. This was a sight which often met the eyes of the people on the sides of the hills around, even on Sundays; but when they hurried down to them they found the fields empty, with the sham workmen and their cows gone, all gone. At other times they might be heard hammering away like miners, shovelling rubbish aside, or emptying their carts of stones. At times they took to singing all the night long, greatly to the delight of the people about, who dearly loved to hear them; and, besides singing so charmingly, they sometimes formed into companies for dancing, and their movements were marvellously graceful and attractive. But it was not safe to go too near the lake late at night, for once a brave girl, who was troubled with toothache, got up at midnight and went to the brink of the water in search of the root of a plant that grows there full of the power to kill all pain in the teeth. But, as she was plucking up a bit of it, there burst on her ear, from the depths of the lake, such a shriek as drove her back into the house breathless with fear and trembling; but whether this was not the doing of a stray fairy, who had been frightened out of her wits at being suddenly overtaken by a damsel in her nightdress, or the ordinary fairy way of curing the toothache, tradition does not tell. For sometimes, at any rate, the fairies busied themselves in doing good to the men and women who were their neighbours, as when they tried to teach them to keep all promises and covenants to which they pledged themselves. A certain man and his wife, to whom they wished to teach this good habit, have never been forgotten. The husband had been behaving ashe ought, until one day, as he held the plough, with the wife guiding his team, he broke his covenant towards her by treating her harshly and unkindly. No sooner had he done so, than he was snatched through the air and plunged in the lake. When the wife went to the brink of the water to ask for him back, the reply she had was, that he was there, and that there he should be.

‘The fairies when engaged in dancing allowed themselves to be gazed at, a sight which was wont greatly to attract the young men of the neighbourhood, and once on a time the son and heir of the owner of Corwrion fell deeply in love with one of the graceful maidens who danced in the fairy ring, for she was wondrously beautiful and pretty beyond compare. His passion for her ere long resulted in courtship, and soon in their being married, which took place on the express understanding, that firstly the husband was not to know her name, though he might give her any name he chose; and, secondly, that he might now and then beat her with a rod, if she chanced to misbehave towards him; but he was not to strike her with iron on pain of her leaving him at once. This covenant was kept for some years, so that they lived happily together and had four children, of whom the two youngest were a boy and a girl. But one day as they went to one of the fields of Bryn Twrw in the direction of Pennarđ Gron, to catch a pony, the fairy wife, being so much nimbler than her husband, ran before him and had her hand in the pony’s mane in no time. She called out to her husband to throw her a halter, but instead of that he threw towards her a bridle with an iron bit, which, as bad luck would have it, struck her. The wife at once flew through the air, and plunged headlong into Corwrion Pool. The husband returnedsighing and weeping towards Bryn Twrw, “Noise Hill,” and when he had reached it, thetwrw, “noise,” there was greater than had ever been heard before, namely that of weeping after “Belenë”; and it was then, after he had struck her with iron, that he first learnt what his wife’s name was. Belenë never came back to her husband, but the feelings of a mother once brought her to the window of his bedroom, where she gave him the following order:—

Os byđ anwyd ar fy mab,Rho’wch am dano gob ei dad;Os anwydog a fyđ can25,Rho’wch am dani bais ei mam.If my son should feel it cold,Let him wear his father’s coat;If the fair one feel the cold,Let her wear my petticoat.

Os byđ anwyd ar fy mab,Rho’wch am dano gob ei dad;Os anwydog a fyđ can25,Rho’wch am dani bais ei mam.

Os byđ anwyd ar fy mab,

Rho’wch am dano gob ei dad;

Os anwydog a fyđ can25,

Rho’wch am dani bais ei mam.

If my son should feel it cold,Let him wear his father’s coat;If the fair one feel the cold,Let her wear my petticoat.

If my son should feel it cold,

Let him wear his father’s coat;

If the fair one feel the cold,

Let her wear my petticoat.

‘As years and years rolled on a grandson of Belenë’s fell in love with a beautiful damsel who lived at a neighbouring farm house called Tai Teulwriaid, and against the will of his father and mother they married, but they had nothing to stock their land with. So one morning what was their astonishment, when they got up, to see grazing quietly in the field six black cows and a white-headed bull, which had come up out of the lake as stock for them from old grannie Belenë? They served them well with milk and butter for many a long year, but on the day the last of the family died, the six black cows and the white-headed bull disappeared into the lake, never more to be seen.’

Mr. Hughes referred to no less than three other versions, as follows:—(1) According to one account, the husband was ploughing, with the wife leading the team, when by chance he came across her and the accident happened. The wife then flew away like a wood-hen (iar goed) into the lake. (2) Another says that they were in a stable trying to bridle one of thehorses, when the misfortune took place through inadvertence. (3) A third specifies the field in front of the house at Corwrion as the place where the final accident took place, when they were busied with the cows and horses.

To these I would add the following traditions, which Mr. Hughes further gives. Sometimes the inhabitants, who seem to have been on the whole on good terms with the fairies, used to heat water and leave it in a vessel on the hearth overnight for the fairies to wash their children in it. This they considered such a kindness that they always left behind them on the hearth a handful of their money. Some pieces are said to have been sometimes found in the fields near Corwrion, and that they consisted of coins which were smaller than our halfpennies, but bigger than farthings, and had a harp on one side. But the tradition is not very definite on these points.

Here also I may as well refer to a similar tale which I got last year at Ỻanberis from a man who is a native of the Ỻanỻechid side of the mountain, though he now lives at Ỻanberis. He is about fifty-five years of age, and remembers hearing in his youth a tale connected with a house called Hafoty’r Famaeth, in a very lonely situation on Ỻanỻechid Mountain, and now represented only by some old ruined walls. It was to the effect that one night, when the man who lived there was away from home, his wife, who had a youngish baby, washed him on the hearth, left the water there, and went to bed with her little one: she woke up in the night to find that theTylwyth Tegwere in possession of the hearth, and busily engaged in washing their children. That is all I got of this tale of a well-known type.

To return to Mr. Hughes’ communications, I would select from them some remarks on the topography ofthe teeming home of the fairies. He estimated the lake or pool of Corwrion to be about 120 yards long, and adds that it is nearly round; but he thinks it was formerly considerably larger, as a cutting was made some eighty or a hundred years ago to lead water from it to Penrhyn Castle; but even then its size would not approach that ascribed to it by popular belief, according to which it was no less than three miles long. In fact it was believed that there was once a town of Corwrion which was swallowed up by the lake, a sort of idea which one meets with in many parts of Wales, and some of the natives are said to be able to discern the houses under the water. This must have been near the end which is not bottomless, the latter being indicated by a spot which is said never to freeze even in hard winters. Old men remember it the resort of herons, cormorants, and the water-hen (hobi wen). Near the banks there grew, besides the water-lily, various kinds of rushes and sedges, which were formerly much used for making mats and other useful articles. It was also once famous for eels of a large size, but it is not supposed to have contained fish until Lord Penrhyn placed some there in recent years. It teemed, however, with leeches of three different kinds so recently that an old man still living describes to Mr. Hughes his simple way of catching them when he was a boy, namely, by walking bare-legged in the water: in a few minutes he landed with nine or ten leeches sticking to his legs, some of which fetched a shilling each from the medical men of those days. Corwrion is now a farm house occupied by Mr. William Griffiths, a grandson of the late bard Gutyn Peris. When Mr. Hughes called to make inquiries about the legend, he found there the foundations of several old buildings, and several pieces of old querns about the place. Hethinks that there belonged to Corwrion in former times, a mill and a fuller’s house, which he seems to infer from the names of two neighbouring houses called ‘Y Felin Hen,’ the Old Mill, and ‘Pandy Tre Garth,’ the Fulling Mill of Tregarth, respectively. He also alludes to agefailor smithy there, in which one Rhys ab Robert used to work, not to mention that a great quantity of ashes, such as come from a smithy, are found at the end of the lake furthest from the farm house. The spot on which Corwrion stands is part of the ground between the Ogwen and another stream which bears the name of ‘Afon Cegin Arthur,’ or the River of Arthur’s Kitchen, and most of the houses and fields about have names which have suggested various notions to the people there: such are the farms called ‘Coed Howel,’ whence the belief in the neighbourhood that Howel Đa, King of Wales, lived here. About him Mr. Hughes has a great deal to say: among other things, that he had boats on Corwrion lake, and that he was wont to present the citizens of Bangor yearly with 300 fat geese reared on the waters of the same. I am referred by another man to a lecture delivered in the neighbourhood on these and similar things by the late bard and antiquary the Rev. Robert Ellis (Cynđelw), but I have never come across a copy. A field near Corwrion is called ‘Cae Stabal,’ or the Field of the Stable, which contains the remains of a row of stables, as it is supposed, and of a number of mangers where Howel’s horses were once fed. In a neighbouring wood, called ‘Parc y Geỻi’ or ‘Hopiar y Geỻi,’ my informant goes on to say, there are to be seen the foundations of seventeen or eighteen old hut-circles, and near them some think they see the site of an old church. About a mile to the south-east of Corwrion is Pendinas, which Mr. Hughes describes asan old triangular Welsh fortress, on the bank of the Ogwen; and within two stone’s-throws or so of Corwrion on the south side of it, and a little to the west of Bryn Twrw mentioned in the legend, is situated Penarđ Gron, acaeror fort, which he describes as being, before it was razed in his time, forty-two yards long by thirty-two wide, and defended by a sort of rampart of earth and stone several yards wide at the base. It used to be the resort of the country people for dancing, cock-fighting26, and other amusements on Sundays. Near it was a cairn, which, when it was dug into, was found to cover a kistvaen, a pot, and a quern: a variety of tales attaching to it are told concerning ghosts, caves, and hidden treasures. Altogether Mr. Hughes is strongly of opinion that Corwrion and its immediate surroundings represent a spot which at one time had great importance; and I see no reason wholly to doubt the correctness of that conclusion, but it would be interesting to know whether Penrhyn used, as Mr. Hughes suggests, to be called Penrhyn Corwrion; there ought, perhaps, to be no great difficulty in ascertaining this, as some of the Penrhyn estate appears to have been the subject of litigation in times gone by.

Before leaving Mr. Hughes’ notes, I must here give his too brief account of another thing connected with Corwrion, though, perhaps, not with the legends here in question. I allude to what he calls the Lantern Ghost (Ysbryd y Lantar):—‘There used to be formerly,’ he says, ‘and there is still at Corwrion, a good-sized sour apple-tree, which during the winter half of the year used to be lit up by fire. It began slowly andgrew greater until the whole seemed to be in a blaze. He was told by an old woman that she formerly knew old people who declared they had seen it. In the same way the trees in Hopiar y Geỻi appeared, according to them, to be also lit up with fire.’ This reminds me of Mr. Fitzgerald’s account of the Irish Bile-Tineadh in theRevue Celtique, iv. 194.

After communicating to me the notes of which the foregoing are abstracts, Mr. Hughes kindly got me a version of the legend from Mr. David Thomas, of Pont y Wern, in the same neighbourhood, but as it contains nothing which I have not already given from Mr. Hughes’ own, I pass it by. Mr. Thomas, however, has heard that the number of the houses making up the town of Corwrion some six or seven centuries ago was about seventy-five; but they were exactly seventy-three according to my next informant, Mr. David Evan Davies, of Treflys, Bethesda, better known by his bardic name of Dewi Glan Ffrydlas. Both these gentlemen have also heard the tradition that there was a church at Corwrion, where there used to be every Sunday a single service, after which the people went to a spot not far off to amuse themselves, and at night to watch the fairies dancing, or to mix with them while they danced in a ring around a glow-worm. According to Dewi Glan Ffrydlas, the spot was the Pen y Bonc, already mentioned, which means, among other things, that they chose a rising ground. This is referred to in a modern rhyme, which runs thus:—

A’r Tylwyth Teg yn dawnsio’n sioncO gylch magïen Pen y Bonc.With the fairies nimbly dancing roundThe glow-worm on the Rising Ground.

A’r Tylwyth Teg yn dawnsio’n sioncO gylch magïen Pen y Bonc.

A’r Tylwyth Teg yn dawnsio’n sionc

O gylch magïen Pen y Bonc.

With the fairies nimbly dancing roundThe glow-worm on the Rising Ground.

With the fairies nimbly dancing round

The glow-worm on the Rising Ground.

Dewi Glan Ffrydlas has kindly gone to the trouble of giving me a brief, but complete, version of the legend as he has heard it. It will be noticed that the discoveringof the fairy’s name is an idle incident in this version: it is brought in too late, and no use is made of it when introduced. This is the substance of his story in English:—‘At one of the dances at Pen y Bonc, the heir of Corwrion’s eyes fell on one of the damsels of the fair family, and he was filled with love for her. Courtship and marriage indue timeensued, but he had to agree to two conditions, namely, that he was neither to know her name nor to strike her with iron. By-and-by they had children, and when the husband happened to go, during his wife’s confinement, to a merry-making at Pen y Bonc, the fairies talked together concerning his wife, and in expressing their feelings of sympathy for her, they inadvertently betrayed the mystery of her name by mentioning it within his hearing. Years rolled on, when the husband and wife went out together one day to catch a colt of theirs that had not been broken in, their object being to go to Conway Fair. Now, as she was swifter of foot than her husband, she got hold of the colt by the mane, and called out to him to throw her a halter, but instead of throwing her the one she asked for, he threw another with iron in it, which struck her. Off she went into the lake. A grandson of this fairy many years afterwards married one of the girls of Corwrion. They had a large piece of land, but no means of stocking it, so that they felt rather distressed in their minds. But lo and behold! one day a white-headed bull came out of the lake, bringing with him six black cows to their land. There never were the like of those cows for milk, and great was the prosperity of their owners, as well as the envy it kindled in their neighbours’ breasts. But when they both grew old and died, the bull and the cows went back into the lake.’

Now I add the other sayings about theTylwyth Teg,which Dewi Glan Ffrydlas has kindly collected for me, beginning with a blurred story about changelings:—

‘Once on a time, in the fourteenth century, the wife of a man at Corwrion had twins, and she complained one day to a witch, who lived close by, at Tyđyn y Barcud, that the children were not getting on, but that they were always crying day and night. “Are you sure that they are your children?” asked the witch, adding that it did not seem to her that they were like hers. “I have my doubts also,” said the mother. “I wonder if somebody has exchanged children with you,” said the witch. “I do not know,” said the mother. “But why do you not seek to know?” asked the other. “But how am I to go about it?” said the mother. The witch replied, “Go and do something rather strange before their eyes and watch what they will say to one another.” “Well, I do not know what I should do,” said the mother. “Well,” said the other, “take an egg-shell, and proceed to brew beer in it in a chamber aside, and come here to tell me what the children will say about it.” She went home and did as the witch had directed her, when the two children lifted their heads out of the cradle to find what she was doing—to watch and to listen. Then one observed to the other, “I remember seeing an oak having an acorn,” to which the other replied, “And I remember seeing a hen having an egg”; and one of the two added, “But I do not remember before seeing anybody brew beer in the shell of a hen’s egg.” The mother then went to the witch and told her what the twins had said one to the other; and she directed her to go to a small wooden bridge, not far off, with one of the strange children under each arm, and there to drop them from the bridge into the river beneath. The mother went back home again and did as she had been directed. When she reached homethis time, she found to her astonishment that her own children had been brought back.’

Next comes a story about a midwife who lived at Corwrion. ‘One of the fairies called to ask her to come and attend on his wife. Off she went with him, and she was astonished to be taken into a splendid palace. There she continued to go night and morning to dress the baby for some time, until one day the husband asked her to rub her eyes with a certain ointment he offered her. She did so, and found herself sitting on a tuft of rushes, and not in a palace. There was no baby: all had disappeared. Some time afterwards she happened to go to the town, and whom should she there see busily buying various wares, but the fairy on whose wife she had been attending. She addressed him with the question, “How are you to-day?” Instead of answering her, he asked, “How do you see me?” “With my eyes,” was the prompt reply. “Which eye?” he asked. “This one,” said the woman, pointing to it; and instantly he disappeared, never more to be seen by her.’ This tale, as will be seen on comparison later, is incomplete, and probably incorrect.

Here is another from Mr. D. E. Davies:—‘One day Guto, the farmer of Corwrion, complained to his wife that he lacked men to mow his hay, when she replied, “Why fret about it? look yonder! There you have a field full of them at it, and stripped to their shirt-sleeves (yn ỻewys eu crysau).” When he went to the spot the sham workmen of the fairy family had disappeared. This same Guto—or somebody else—happened another time to be ploughing, when he heard some person he could not see, calling out to him, “I have got thebins(that is thevice) of my plough broken.” “Bring it to me,” said the driver of Guto’s team, “that I may mend it.” When they finished the furrow, they found thebroken vice, with a barrel of beer placed near it. One of the men sat down and mended the vice. Then they made another furrow, and when they returned to the spot they found there a two-eared dish filled to the brim withbara a chwrw, or “bread and beer.” The wordvice, I may observe, is an English term, which is applied in Carnarvonshire to a certain part of the plough: it is otherwise calledbins, but neither does this seem to be a Welsh word, nor have I heard either used in South Wales.

At times one of the fairies was in the habit, as I was told by more than one of my informants, of coming out of Ỻyn Corwrion with her spinning-wheel (troeỻ bach) on fine summer days and betaking herself to spinning. While at that work she might be heard constantly singing or humming, in a sort of round tune, the wordssìli ffrit. So thatsìli ffrit Leisa Bèlamay now be heard from the mouths of the children in that neighbourhood. But I have not been successful in finding out what Liza Bella’s ‘silly frit’ exactly means, though I am, on the whole, convinced that the words are other than of Welsh origin. The last of them,ffrit, is usually applied in Cardiganshire to anything worthless or insignificant, and the derivative,ffrityn, means one who has no go or perseverance in him: the feminine isffriten. In Carnarvonshire my wife has heardffritynandffritanapplied to a small man and a small woman respectively. Mr. Hughes says that in Merioneth and parts of Powyssìli ffritis a term applied to a small woman or a female dwarf who happens to be proud, vain, and fond of the attentions of the other sex (benyw fach neu goraches falch a hunanol a fyđai hoff o garu); but he thinks he has heard it made use of with regard to the gipsies, and possibly also to theTylwyth Teg. The Rev. O.Davies thinks the wordssìli ffrit Leisa Bèlato be very modern, and that they refer to a young woman who lived at a place in the neighbourhood, called Bryn Bèla or Brymbèla, ‘Bella’s Hill,’ the point being that this Bella was ahead, in her time, of all the girls in those parts in matters of taste and fashion. This however does not seem to go far enough back, and it is possible still that inBèla, that is, in English spelling,Bella, we have merely a shortening of some such a name as Isabella or Arabella, which were once much more popular in the Principality than they are now: in fact, I do not feel sure thatLeisa Bèlais not bodily a corruption ofIsabella. As tosìli ffrit, one might at first have been inclined to render it by small fry, especially in the sense of the French ‘de la friture’ as applied to young men and boys, and to connect it with the Welshsilandsilod, which mean small fish; but the pronunciation ofsilliorsìlibeing nearly that of the English wordsilly, it appears, on the whole, to belong to the host of English words to be found in colloquial Welsh, though they seldom find their way into books. Students of English ought to be able to tell us whetherfrithad the meaning here suggested in any part of England, and how lately; also, whether there was such a phrase as ‘silly frit’ in use. After penning this, I received the following interesting communication from Mr. William Jones, of Ỻangoỻen:—The termsìli ffritwas formerly in use at Beđgelert, and what was thereby meant was a child of theTylwyth Teg. It is still used for any creature that is smaller than ordinary. ‘Pooh, a silly frit like that!’ (Pw, rhyw sìli ffrit fel yna!). ‘Mrs. So-and-So has a fine child.’ ‘Ha, do you call a silly frit like that a fine child?’ (Mae gan hon a hon blentyn braf. Ho, a ydych chwi’n galw rhyw sìli ffrit fel hwnna’nbraf?) To return to Leisa Bèla and Belenë, it may be that the same person was meant by both these names, but I am in no hurry to identify them, as none of my correspondents knows the latter of them except Mr. Hughes, who gives it on the authority of the bard Gutyn Peris, and nothing further so far as I can understand, whereas Bèla will come before us in another story, as it is the same name, I presume, which Glasynys has spelledBellainCymru Fu.

So I wrote in 1881: since then I have ascertained from Professor Joseph Wright, who is busily engaged on his greatEnglish Dialect Dictionary, thatfrit27is the same word, in the dialects of Cheshire, Shropshire, and Pembrokeshire, asfrightin literary English; and that the corresponding verb tofrightenis in themfritten, while afrittenin(= the book Englishfrightening) means a ghost or apparition. Sosìli ffritis simply the Englishsilly frit, and means probably a silly sprite or silly ghost, andsìli ffrit Leisa Bèlawould mean the silly ghost of a woman called Liza Bella. But the silly frit found spinning near Corwrion Pool will come under notice again, for that fairy belongs to the Rumpelstiltzchen group of tales, and the fragment of a story about her will be seen to have treated Silly Frit as her proper name, which she had not intended to reach the ears of the person of whom she was trying to get the better.

These tales are brought into connexion with the present day in more ways than one, for besides the various accounts of thebwganodor bogies of Corwrion frightening people when out late at night, Mr. D. E. Davies knows a man, who is still living, and whowell remembers the time when the sound of working used to be heard in the pool, and the voices of children crying somewhere in its depths, but that when people rushed there to see what the matter was, all was found profoundly quiet and still. Moreover, there is a family or two, now numerously represented in the parishes of Ỻandegai and Ỻanỻechid, who used to be taunted with being the offspring of fairy ancestors. One of these families was nicknamed ‘Simychiaid’ or ‘Smychiaid’; and my informant, who is not yet quite forty, says that he heard his mother repeat scores of times that the old people used to say, that the Smychiaid, who were very numerous in the neighbourhood, were descended from fairies, and that they came from Ỻyn Corwrion. At all this the Smychiaid were wont to grow mightily angry. Another tradition, he says, about them was that they were a wandering family that arrived in the district from the direction of Conway, and that the father’s name was a Simwch, or rather that was his nickname, based on the proper name Simwnt, which appears to have once been the prevalent name in Ỻandegai. The historical order of these words would in that case have beenSimwnt,Simwch,Simychiaid,Smychiaid. NowSimwntseems to be merely the Welsh form given to some such English name asSimond, just asEdmundorEdmondbecomes in North WalesEmwnt. The objection to the nickname seems to lie in the fact, which one of my correspondents points out to me, that Simwch is understood to mean a monkey, a point on which I should like to have further information. Pughe givessimach, it is true, as having the meaning of the Latinsimia. A branch of the same family is said to be called ‘y Cowperiaid’ or the Coopers, from an ancestor who was either by name or by trade a cooper.Mr. Hughes’ account of the Smychiaid was, that they are the descendants of one Simonds, who came to be a bailiff at Bodysgaỻan, near Deganwy, and moved from there to Coetmor in the neighbourhood of Corwrion. Simonds was obnoxious to the bards, he goes on to say, and they described the Smychiaid as having arrived in the parish at the bottom of acaweỻ, ‘a creel or basket carried on the back,’ when chance would have it that thecaweỻcord snapped just in that neighbourhood, at a place called Pont y Ỻan. That accident is described, according to Mr. Hughes, in the following doggerel, the origin of which I do not know—

E dorai ’r arwest, ede wan,Brwnt y ỻe, ar Bont y Ỻan.The cord would snap, feeble yarn,At that nasty spot, Pont y Ỻan.

E dorai ’r arwest, ede wan,Brwnt y ỻe, ar Bont y Ỻan.

E dorai ’r arwest, ede wan,

Brwnt y ỻe, ar Bont y Ỻan.

The cord would snap, feeble yarn,At that nasty spot, Pont y Ỻan.

The cord would snap, feeble yarn,

At that nasty spot, Pont y Ỻan.

Curiously enough, the samecaweỻstory used to be said of a widely spread family in North Cardiganshire, whose surname was pronounced Massn and written Mason or Mazon: as my mother was of this family, I have often heard it. Thecaweỻ, if I remember rightly, was said, in this instance, to have come from Scotland, to which were traced three men who settled in North Cardiganshire. One had no descendants, but the other two, Mason and Peel—I think his name was Peel, but I am only sure that it was not Welsh—had so many, that the Masons, at any rate, are exceedingly numerous there; but a great many of them, owing to some extent, probably, to thecaweỻstory, have been silly enough to change their name into that of Jones, some of them in my time. The three men came there probably for refuge in the course of troubles in Scotland, as a Frazer and a Francis did to Anglesey. At any rate, I have never heard it suggested that they were of aquatic origin, but, taking thecaweỻinto consideration, and the popular account ofthe Smychiaid, I should be inclined to think that thecaweỻoriginally referred to some such a supposed descent. I only hope that somebody will help us with another and a longercaweỻtale, which will make up for the brevity of these allusions. We may, however, assume, I think, that there was a tendency at one time in Gwyneđ, if not in other parts of the Principality, to believe, or pretend to believe, that the descendants of an Englishman or Scotsman, who settled among the old inhabitants, were of fairy origin, and that their history was somehow uncanny, which was all, of course, duly resented. This helps, to some extent, to explain how names of doubtful origin have got into these tales, such asSmychiaid,Cowperiaid,Pellings,Penelope,Leisa BèlaorIsabella, and the like. This association of the lake legends with intruders from without is what has, perhaps, in a great measure served to rescue such legends from utter oblivion.

As to a church at Corwrion, the tradition does not seem to be an old one, and it appears founded on one of the popular etymologies of the word Corwrion, which treats the first syllable ascorin the sense of a choir; but the word has other meanings, including among them that of an ox-stall or enclosure for cattle. Taking this as coming near the true explanation, it at once suggests itself, that Creuwyryon in theMabinogiof Math ab Mathonwy is the same place, forcreuorcraualso meant an enclosure for animals, including swine. In Irish the word iscró, an enclosure, a hut or hovel. The passage in theMabinogi28relates to Gwydion returning with the swine he had got by dint of magic and deceit from Pryderi, prince of Dyfed, and runs thus in Lady Charlotte Guest’s translation: ‘So they journeyed on to the highest town of Arỻechweđ,and there they made a sty (creu) for the swine, and therefore was the name of Creuwyryon given to that town.’ As towyryonorwyrion, which we find made intowrionin Corwrion according to the modern habit, it would seem to be no other word than the usual plural ofwyr, a grandson, formerly also any descendant in the direct line. If so, the name of an ancestor must have originally followed, just as one of the places called Bettws was onceBetws Wyrion Iđon, ‘the Bettws of Iđon’s Descendants’; but it is possible thatwyrionin Creu- or Cor-wyrion was itself a man’s name, though I have never met with it. It is right to add that the name appears in theRecord of Carnarvon(pp. 12, 25, 26) as Creweryon, which carries us back to the first half of the fourteenth century. There it occurs as the name of a township containing eight gavels, and the particulars about it might, in the hand of one familiar with the tenures of that time, perhaps give us valuable information as to what may have been its status at a still earlier date.

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