VIII.Some time ago I was favoured with a short but interesting tale by Mr. Evan Lloyd Jones, of Dinorwig, near Ỻanberis. Mr. Lloyd Jones, I may here mention, published not long ago, inỺais y Wlad(Bangor, North Wales), and in theDrych(Utica, United States of North America), a series of articles entitledỺen y Werin yn Sir Gaernarfon, or the Folklore of Carnarvonshire. I happened to see it at a friend’s house, and I found at once that the writer was passionately fond of antiquities, and in the habit of making use of the frequent opportunities he has in the Dinorwig quarries for gathering information as to what used to be believed by the people of Arfon and Anglesey. The tale about to be given relates to a lake called Marchlyn Mawr, or the Great Horse-lake, for there are two lakes called Marchlyn: they lie near one another, between the Fronỻwyd, in the parish of Ỻandegai, and the Elidyr, in the parishes ofỺanđeiniolen and Ỻanberis. Mr. Lloyd Jones shall tell his tale in his own words:—Amgylchynir y Marchlyn Mawr gan greigiau erchyỻ yr olwg arnynt; a dywed trađodiad đarfod i un o feibion y Rhiwen17unwaith tra yn cynorthwyo dafad oeđ wedi syrthio i’r creigiau i đod ođiyno, đarganfod ogof anferth: aeth i fewn iđi a gwelođ ei bod yn ỻawn o drysorau ac arfau gwerthfawr; ond gan ei bod yn dechreu tywyỻu, a dringo i fynu yn orchwyl anhawđ hyd yn nod yn ngoleu’r dyđ, aeth adref y noswaith honno, a boreu drannoeth ar lasiad y dyđ cychwynnođ eilwaith i’r ogof, ac heb lawer o drafferth daeth o hyd iđi: aeth i fewn, a dechreuođ edrych o’i amgylch ar y trysorau oeđ yno:—Ar ganol yr ogof yr oeđ bwrđ enfawr o aur pur, ac ar y bwrđ goron o aur a pherlau: deaỻođ yn y fan mai coron a thrysorau Arthur oeđynt—nesaođ at y bwrđ, a phan oeđ yn estyn ei law i gymeryd gafael yn y goron dychrynwyd ef gan drwst erchyỻ, trwst megys mil o daranau yn ymrwygo uwch ei ben ac aeth yr hoỻ le can dywyỻed a’r afagđu. Ceisiođ ymbalfalu ođiyno gynted ag y gaỻai; pan lwyđođ i gyrraeđ i ganol y creigiau taflođ ei olwg ar y ỻyn, yr hwn oeđ wedi ei gynhyrfu drwyđo a’i donnau brigwynion yn cael eu ỻuchio trwy đaneđ ysgythrog y creigiau hyd y man yr oeđ efe yn sefyỻ arno; ond tra yr oeđ yn parhau i syỻu ar ganol y ỻyn gwelai gwrwgl a thair o’r benywod prydferthaf y disgynođ ỻygad unrhyw đyn arnynt erioed ynđo yn cael ei rwyfo yn brysur tuag at enau yr ogof. Ond och! yr oeđ golwg ofnadwy yr hwn oeđ yn rhwyfo yn đigon i beri iasau o fraw trwy y dyn cryfaf. Gaỻođ y ỻanc rywfođ đianc adref ond ni fuiechyd yn ei gyfansođiad ar ol hynny, a byđai hyd yn nod crybwyỻ enw y Marchlyn yn ei glywedigaeth yn đigon i’w yrru yn waỻgof.‘The Marchlyn Mawr is surrounded by rocks terrible to look at, and tradition relates how one of the sons of the farmer of Rhiwen, once on a time, when helping a sheep that had fallen among the rocks to get away, discovered a tremendous cave there; he entered, and saw that it was full of treasures and arms of great value; but, as it was beginning to grow dark, and as clambering back was a difficult matter even in the light of day, he went home that evening, and next morning with the grey dawn he set out again for the cave, when he found it without much trouble. He entered, and began to look about him at the treasures that were there. In the centre of the cave stood a huge table of pure gold, and on the table lay a crown of gold and pearls. He understood at once that they were the crown and treasures of Arthur. He approached the table, and as he stretched forth his hand to take hold of the crown he was frightened by an awful noise, the noise, as it were, of a thousand thunders bursting over his head, and the whole place became as dark as Tartarus. He tried to grope and feel his way out as fast as he could. When he had succeeded in reaching to the middle of the rocks, he cast his eye on the lake, which had been stirred all through, while its white-crested waves dashed through the jagged teeth of the rocks up to the spot on which he stood. But as he continued looking at the middle of the lake he beheld a coracle containing three women, the fairest that the eye of man ever fell on. They were being quickly rowed to the mouth of the cave; but the dread aspect of him who rowed was enough to send thrills of horror through the strongest of men. The youth was able somehow to escape home,but no health remained in his constitution after that, and even the mere mention of the Marchlyn in his hearing used to be enough to make him insane.’Mr. Lloyd Jones appends to the tale a note to the following effect:—There is a small eminence on the shore of the Marchlyn Mawr, in the parish of Ỻandegai, calledBryn Cwrwgl, or the ‘Hill of the Coracle’; andOgof y Marchlyn, or the ‘Marchlyn Cave,’ is a name familiar enough to everybody in these neighbourhoods. There were some—unless he ought to say that there still are some—who believed that there was abundance of treasure in the cave. Several young men from the quarries, both of the Cae and of Dinorwig, have been in the midst of the Marchlyn rocks, searching for the cave, and they succeeded in making their way into a cave. They came away, however, without the treasures. One old man, Robert Edwards (Iorwerth Sardis), used to tell him that he and several others had brought ropes from the quarry to go into the cave, but that they found no treasure. So far, I have given the substance of Mr. Jones’ words, to which I would add the following statement, which I have from a native of Dinorwig:—About seventy years ago, when the gentry were robbing the poor of these districts of their houses and of the lands which the latter had enclosed out of the commons, an old woman called Siân William of the Garneđ was obliged to flee from her house with her baby—the latter was known later in life as the Rev. Robert Ellis, of Ysgoldy—in her arms. It was in one of the Marchlyn caves that she found refuge for a day and night. Another kind of tale connected with the Marchlyn Mawr is recorded in the Powys-land Club’sCollections, Hist. and Arch., vol. xv. p. 137, by the Rev. Elias Owen, to the effect that ‘a man who was fishing in the lake found himself enveloped in the clouds that had descendedfrom the hills to the water. A sudden gust of wind cleared a road through the mist that hung over the lake, and revealed to his sight a man busily engaged in thatching a stack. The man, or rather the fairy, stood on a ladder. The stack and ladder rested on the surface of the lake.’
VIII.Some time ago I was favoured with a short but interesting tale by Mr. Evan Lloyd Jones, of Dinorwig, near Ỻanberis. Mr. Lloyd Jones, I may here mention, published not long ago, inỺais y Wlad(Bangor, North Wales), and in theDrych(Utica, United States of North America), a series of articles entitledỺen y Werin yn Sir Gaernarfon, or the Folklore of Carnarvonshire. I happened to see it at a friend’s house, and I found at once that the writer was passionately fond of antiquities, and in the habit of making use of the frequent opportunities he has in the Dinorwig quarries for gathering information as to what used to be believed by the people of Arfon and Anglesey. The tale about to be given relates to a lake called Marchlyn Mawr, or the Great Horse-lake, for there are two lakes called Marchlyn: they lie near one another, between the Fronỻwyd, in the parish of Ỻandegai, and the Elidyr, in the parishes ofỺanđeiniolen and Ỻanberis. Mr. Lloyd Jones shall tell his tale in his own words:—Amgylchynir y Marchlyn Mawr gan greigiau erchyỻ yr olwg arnynt; a dywed trađodiad đarfod i un o feibion y Rhiwen17unwaith tra yn cynorthwyo dafad oeđ wedi syrthio i’r creigiau i đod ođiyno, đarganfod ogof anferth: aeth i fewn iđi a gwelođ ei bod yn ỻawn o drysorau ac arfau gwerthfawr; ond gan ei bod yn dechreu tywyỻu, a dringo i fynu yn orchwyl anhawđ hyd yn nod yn ngoleu’r dyđ, aeth adref y noswaith honno, a boreu drannoeth ar lasiad y dyđ cychwynnođ eilwaith i’r ogof, ac heb lawer o drafferth daeth o hyd iđi: aeth i fewn, a dechreuođ edrych o’i amgylch ar y trysorau oeđ yno:—Ar ganol yr ogof yr oeđ bwrđ enfawr o aur pur, ac ar y bwrđ goron o aur a pherlau: deaỻođ yn y fan mai coron a thrysorau Arthur oeđynt—nesaođ at y bwrđ, a phan oeđ yn estyn ei law i gymeryd gafael yn y goron dychrynwyd ef gan drwst erchyỻ, trwst megys mil o daranau yn ymrwygo uwch ei ben ac aeth yr hoỻ le can dywyỻed a’r afagđu. Ceisiođ ymbalfalu ođiyno gynted ag y gaỻai; pan lwyđođ i gyrraeđ i ganol y creigiau taflođ ei olwg ar y ỻyn, yr hwn oeđ wedi ei gynhyrfu drwyđo a’i donnau brigwynion yn cael eu ỻuchio trwy đaneđ ysgythrog y creigiau hyd y man yr oeđ efe yn sefyỻ arno; ond tra yr oeđ yn parhau i syỻu ar ganol y ỻyn gwelai gwrwgl a thair o’r benywod prydferthaf y disgynođ ỻygad unrhyw đyn arnynt erioed ynđo yn cael ei rwyfo yn brysur tuag at enau yr ogof. Ond och! yr oeđ golwg ofnadwy yr hwn oeđ yn rhwyfo yn đigon i beri iasau o fraw trwy y dyn cryfaf. Gaỻođ y ỻanc rywfođ đianc adref ond ni fuiechyd yn ei gyfansođiad ar ol hynny, a byđai hyd yn nod crybwyỻ enw y Marchlyn yn ei glywedigaeth yn đigon i’w yrru yn waỻgof.‘The Marchlyn Mawr is surrounded by rocks terrible to look at, and tradition relates how one of the sons of the farmer of Rhiwen, once on a time, when helping a sheep that had fallen among the rocks to get away, discovered a tremendous cave there; he entered, and saw that it was full of treasures and arms of great value; but, as it was beginning to grow dark, and as clambering back was a difficult matter even in the light of day, he went home that evening, and next morning with the grey dawn he set out again for the cave, when he found it without much trouble. He entered, and began to look about him at the treasures that were there. In the centre of the cave stood a huge table of pure gold, and on the table lay a crown of gold and pearls. He understood at once that they were the crown and treasures of Arthur. He approached the table, and as he stretched forth his hand to take hold of the crown he was frightened by an awful noise, the noise, as it were, of a thousand thunders bursting over his head, and the whole place became as dark as Tartarus. He tried to grope and feel his way out as fast as he could. When he had succeeded in reaching to the middle of the rocks, he cast his eye on the lake, which had been stirred all through, while its white-crested waves dashed through the jagged teeth of the rocks up to the spot on which he stood. But as he continued looking at the middle of the lake he beheld a coracle containing three women, the fairest that the eye of man ever fell on. They were being quickly rowed to the mouth of the cave; but the dread aspect of him who rowed was enough to send thrills of horror through the strongest of men. The youth was able somehow to escape home,but no health remained in his constitution after that, and even the mere mention of the Marchlyn in his hearing used to be enough to make him insane.’Mr. Lloyd Jones appends to the tale a note to the following effect:—There is a small eminence on the shore of the Marchlyn Mawr, in the parish of Ỻandegai, calledBryn Cwrwgl, or the ‘Hill of the Coracle’; andOgof y Marchlyn, or the ‘Marchlyn Cave,’ is a name familiar enough to everybody in these neighbourhoods. There were some—unless he ought to say that there still are some—who believed that there was abundance of treasure in the cave. Several young men from the quarries, both of the Cae and of Dinorwig, have been in the midst of the Marchlyn rocks, searching for the cave, and they succeeded in making their way into a cave. They came away, however, without the treasures. One old man, Robert Edwards (Iorwerth Sardis), used to tell him that he and several others had brought ropes from the quarry to go into the cave, but that they found no treasure. So far, I have given the substance of Mr. Jones’ words, to which I would add the following statement, which I have from a native of Dinorwig:—About seventy years ago, when the gentry were robbing the poor of these districts of their houses and of the lands which the latter had enclosed out of the commons, an old woman called Siân William of the Garneđ was obliged to flee from her house with her baby—the latter was known later in life as the Rev. Robert Ellis, of Ysgoldy—in her arms. It was in one of the Marchlyn caves that she found refuge for a day and night. Another kind of tale connected with the Marchlyn Mawr is recorded in the Powys-land Club’sCollections, Hist. and Arch., vol. xv. p. 137, by the Rev. Elias Owen, to the effect that ‘a man who was fishing in the lake found himself enveloped in the clouds that had descendedfrom the hills to the water. A sudden gust of wind cleared a road through the mist that hung over the lake, and revealed to his sight a man busily engaged in thatching a stack. The man, or rather the fairy, stood on a ladder. The stack and ladder rested on the surface of the lake.’
VIII.Some time ago I was favoured with a short but interesting tale by Mr. Evan Lloyd Jones, of Dinorwig, near Ỻanberis. Mr. Lloyd Jones, I may here mention, published not long ago, inỺais y Wlad(Bangor, North Wales), and in theDrych(Utica, United States of North America), a series of articles entitledỺen y Werin yn Sir Gaernarfon, or the Folklore of Carnarvonshire. I happened to see it at a friend’s house, and I found at once that the writer was passionately fond of antiquities, and in the habit of making use of the frequent opportunities he has in the Dinorwig quarries for gathering information as to what used to be believed by the people of Arfon and Anglesey. The tale about to be given relates to a lake called Marchlyn Mawr, or the Great Horse-lake, for there are two lakes called Marchlyn: they lie near one another, between the Fronỻwyd, in the parish of Ỻandegai, and the Elidyr, in the parishes ofỺanđeiniolen and Ỻanberis. Mr. Lloyd Jones shall tell his tale in his own words:—Amgylchynir y Marchlyn Mawr gan greigiau erchyỻ yr olwg arnynt; a dywed trađodiad đarfod i un o feibion y Rhiwen17unwaith tra yn cynorthwyo dafad oeđ wedi syrthio i’r creigiau i đod ođiyno, đarganfod ogof anferth: aeth i fewn iđi a gwelođ ei bod yn ỻawn o drysorau ac arfau gwerthfawr; ond gan ei bod yn dechreu tywyỻu, a dringo i fynu yn orchwyl anhawđ hyd yn nod yn ngoleu’r dyđ, aeth adref y noswaith honno, a boreu drannoeth ar lasiad y dyđ cychwynnođ eilwaith i’r ogof, ac heb lawer o drafferth daeth o hyd iđi: aeth i fewn, a dechreuođ edrych o’i amgylch ar y trysorau oeđ yno:—Ar ganol yr ogof yr oeđ bwrđ enfawr o aur pur, ac ar y bwrđ goron o aur a pherlau: deaỻođ yn y fan mai coron a thrysorau Arthur oeđynt—nesaođ at y bwrđ, a phan oeđ yn estyn ei law i gymeryd gafael yn y goron dychrynwyd ef gan drwst erchyỻ, trwst megys mil o daranau yn ymrwygo uwch ei ben ac aeth yr hoỻ le can dywyỻed a’r afagđu. Ceisiođ ymbalfalu ođiyno gynted ag y gaỻai; pan lwyđođ i gyrraeđ i ganol y creigiau taflođ ei olwg ar y ỻyn, yr hwn oeđ wedi ei gynhyrfu drwyđo a’i donnau brigwynion yn cael eu ỻuchio trwy đaneđ ysgythrog y creigiau hyd y man yr oeđ efe yn sefyỻ arno; ond tra yr oeđ yn parhau i syỻu ar ganol y ỻyn gwelai gwrwgl a thair o’r benywod prydferthaf y disgynođ ỻygad unrhyw đyn arnynt erioed ynđo yn cael ei rwyfo yn brysur tuag at enau yr ogof. Ond och! yr oeđ golwg ofnadwy yr hwn oeđ yn rhwyfo yn đigon i beri iasau o fraw trwy y dyn cryfaf. Gaỻođ y ỻanc rywfođ đianc adref ond ni fuiechyd yn ei gyfansođiad ar ol hynny, a byđai hyd yn nod crybwyỻ enw y Marchlyn yn ei glywedigaeth yn đigon i’w yrru yn waỻgof.‘The Marchlyn Mawr is surrounded by rocks terrible to look at, and tradition relates how one of the sons of the farmer of Rhiwen, once on a time, when helping a sheep that had fallen among the rocks to get away, discovered a tremendous cave there; he entered, and saw that it was full of treasures and arms of great value; but, as it was beginning to grow dark, and as clambering back was a difficult matter even in the light of day, he went home that evening, and next morning with the grey dawn he set out again for the cave, when he found it without much trouble. He entered, and began to look about him at the treasures that were there. In the centre of the cave stood a huge table of pure gold, and on the table lay a crown of gold and pearls. He understood at once that they were the crown and treasures of Arthur. He approached the table, and as he stretched forth his hand to take hold of the crown he was frightened by an awful noise, the noise, as it were, of a thousand thunders bursting over his head, and the whole place became as dark as Tartarus. He tried to grope and feel his way out as fast as he could. When he had succeeded in reaching to the middle of the rocks, he cast his eye on the lake, which had been stirred all through, while its white-crested waves dashed through the jagged teeth of the rocks up to the spot on which he stood. But as he continued looking at the middle of the lake he beheld a coracle containing three women, the fairest that the eye of man ever fell on. They were being quickly rowed to the mouth of the cave; but the dread aspect of him who rowed was enough to send thrills of horror through the strongest of men. The youth was able somehow to escape home,but no health remained in his constitution after that, and even the mere mention of the Marchlyn in his hearing used to be enough to make him insane.’Mr. Lloyd Jones appends to the tale a note to the following effect:—There is a small eminence on the shore of the Marchlyn Mawr, in the parish of Ỻandegai, calledBryn Cwrwgl, or the ‘Hill of the Coracle’; andOgof y Marchlyn, or the ‘Marchlyn Cave,’ is a name familiar enough to everybody in these neighbourhoods. There were some—unless he ought to say that there still are some—who believed that there was abundance of treasure in the cave. Several young men from the quarries, both of the Cae and of Dinorwig, have been in the midst of the Marchlyn rocks, searching for the cave, and they succeeded in making their way into a cave. They came away, however, without the treasures. One old man, Robert Edwards (Iorwerth Sardis), used to tell him that he and several others had brought ropes from the quarry to go into the cave, but that they found no treasure. So far, I have given the substance of Mr. Jones’ words, to which I would add the following statement, which I have from a native of Dinorwig:—About seventy years ago, when the gentry were robbing the poor of these districts of their houses and of the lands which the latter had enclosed out of the commons, an old woman called Siân William of the Garneđ was obliged to flee from her house with her baby—the latter was known later in life as the Rev. Robert Ellis, of Ysgoldy—in her arms. It was in one of the Marchlyn caves that she found refuge for a day and night. Another kind of tale connected with the Marchlyn Mawr is recorded in the Powys-land Club’sCollections, Hist. and Arch., vol. xv. p. 137, by the Rev. Elias Owen, to the effect that ‘a man who was fishing in the lake found himself enveloped in the clouds that had descendedfrom the hills to the water. A sudden gust of wind cleared a road through the mist that hung over the lake, and revealed to his sight a man busily engaged in thatching a stack. The man, or rather the fairy, stood on a ladder. The stack and ladder rested on the surface of the lake.’
VIII.Some time ago I was favoured with a short but interesting tale by Mr. Evan Lloyd Jones, of Dinorwig, near Ỻanberis. Mr. Lloyd Jones, I may here mention, published not long ago, inỺais y Wlad(Bangor, North Wales), and in theDrych(Utica, United States of North America), a series of articles entitledỺen y Werin yn Sir Gaernarfon, or the Folklore of Carnarvonshire. I happened to see it at a friend’s house, and I found at once that the writer was passionately fond of antiquities, and in the habit of making use of the frequent opportunities he has in the Dinorwig quarries for gathering information as to what used to be believed by the people of Arfon and Anglesey. The tale about to be given relates to a lake called Marchlyn Mawr, or the Great Horse-lake, for there are two lakes called Marchlyn: they lie near one another, between the Fronỻwyd, in the parish of Ỻandegai, and the Elidyr, in the parishes ofỺanđeiniolen and Ỻanberis. Mr. Lloyd Jones shall tell his tale in his own words:—Amgylchynir y Marchlyn Mawr gan greigiau erchyỻ yr olwg arnynt; a dywed trađodiad đarfod i un o feibion y Rhiwen17unwaith tra yn cynorthwyo dafad oeđ wedi syrthio i’r creigiau i đod ođiyno, đarganfod ogof anferth: aeth i fewn iđi a gwelođ ei bod yn ỻawn o drysorau ac arfau gwerthfawr; ond gan ei bod yn dechreu tywyỻu, a dringo i fynu yn orchwyl anhawđ hyd yn nod yn ngoleu’r dyđ, aeth adref y noswaith honno, a boreu drannoeth ar lasiad y dyđ cychwynnođ eilwaith i’r ogof, ac heb lawer o drafferth daeth o hyd iđi: aeth i fewn, a dechreuođ edrych o’i amgylch ar y trysorau oeđ yno:—Ar ganol yr ogof yr oeđ bwrđ enfawr o aur pur, ac ar y bwrđ goron o aur a pherlau: deaỻođ yn y fan mai coron a thrysorau Arthur oeđynt—nesaođ at y bwrđ, a phan oeđ yn estyn ei law i gymeryd gafael yn y goron dychrynwyd ef gan drwst erchyỻ, trwst megys mil o daranau yn ymrwygo uwch ei ben ac aeth yr hoỻ le can dywyỻed a’r afagđu. Ceisiođ ymbalfalu ođiyno gynted ag y gaỻai; pan lwyđođ i gyrraeđ i ganol y creigiau taflođ ei olwg ar y ỻyn, yr hwn oeđ wedi ei gynhyrfu drwyđo a’i donnau brigwynion yn cael eu ỻuchio trwy đaneđ ysgythrog y creigiau hyd y man yr oeđ efe yn sefyỻ arno; ond tra yr oeđ yn parhau i syỻu ar ganol y ỻyn gwelai gwrwgl a thair o’r benywod prydferthaf y disgynođ ỻygad unrhyw đyn arnynt erioed ynđo yn cael ei rwyfo yn brysur tuag at enau yr ogof. Ond och! yr oeđ golwg ofnadwy yr hwn oeđ yn rhwyfo yn đigon i beri iasau o fraw trwy y dyn cryfaf. Gaỻođ y ỻanc rywfođ đianc adref ond ni fuiechyd yn ei gyfansođiad ar ol hynny, a byđai hyd yn nod crybwyỻ enw y Marchlyn yn ei glywedigaeth yn đigon i’w yrru yn waỻgof.‘The Marchlyn Mawr is surrounded by rocks terrible to look at, and tradition relates how one of the sons of the farmer of Rhiwen, once on a time, when helping a sheep that had fallen among the rocks to get away, discovered a tremendous cave there; he entered, and saw that it was full of treasures and arms of great value; but, as it was beginning to grow dark, and as clambering back was a difficult matter even in the light of day, he went home that evening, and next morning with the grey dawn he set out again for the cave, when he found it without much trouble. He entered, and began to look about him at the treasures that were there. In the centre of the cave stood a huge table of pure gold, and on the table lay a crown of gold and pearls. He understood at once that they were the crown and treasures of Arthur. He approached the table, and as he stretched forth his hand to take hold of the crown he was frightened by an awful noise, the noise, as it were, of a thousand thunders bursting over his head, and the whole place became as dark as Tartarus. He tried to grope and feel his way out as fast as he could. When he had succeeded in reaching to the middle of the rocks, he cast his eye on the lake, which had been stirred all through, while its white-crested waves dashed through the jagged teeth of the rocks up to the spot on which he stood. But as he continued looking at the middle of the lake he beheld a coracle containing three women, the fairest that the eye of man ever fell on. They were being quickly rowed to the mouth of the cave; but the dread aspect of him who rowed was enough to send thrills of horror through the strongest of men. The youth was able somehow to escape home,but no health remained in his constitution after that, and even the mere mention of the Marchlyn in his hearing used to be enough to make him insane.’Mr. Lloyd Jones appends to the tale a note to the following effect:—There is a small eminence on the shore of the Marchlyn Mawr, in the parish of Ỻandegai, calledBryn Cwrwgl, or the ‘Hill of the Coracle’; andOgof y Marchlyn, or the ‘Marchlyn Cave,’ is a name familiar enough to everybody in these neighbourhoods. There were some—unless he ought to say that there still are some—who believed that there was abundance of treasure in the cave. Several young men from the quarries, both of the Cae and of Dinorwig, have been in the midst of the Marchlyn rocks, searching for the cave, and they succeeded in making their way into a cave. They came away, however, without the treasures. One old man, Robert Edwards (Iorwerth Sardis), used to tell him that he and several others had brought ropes from the quarry to go into the cave, but that they found no treasure. So far, I have given the substance of Mr. Jones’ words, to which I would add the following statement, which I have from a native of Dinorwig:—About seventy years ago, when the gentry were robbing the poor of these districts of their houses and of the lands which the latter had enclosed out of the commons, an old woman called Siân William of the Garneđ was obliged to flee from her house with her baby—the latter was known later in life as the Rev. Robert Ellis, of Ysgoldy—in her arms. It was in one of the Marchlyn caves that she found refuge for a day and night. Another kind of tale connected with the Marchlyn Mawr is recorded in the Powys-land Club’sCollections, Hist. and Arch., vol. xv. p. 137, by the Rev. Elias Owen, to the effect that ‘a man who was fishing in the lake found himself enveloped in the clouds that had descendedfrom the hills to the water. A sudden gust of wind cleared a road through the mist that hung over the lake, and revealed to his sight a man busily engaged in thatching a stack. The man, or rather the fairy, stood on a ladder. The stack and ladder rested on the surface of the lake.’
VIII.
Some time ago I was favoured with a short but interesting tale by Mr. Evan Lloyd Jones, of Dinorwig, near Ỻanberis. Mr. Lloyd Jones, I may here mention, published not long ago, inỺais y Wlad(Bangor, North Wales), and in theDrych(Utica, United States of North America), a series of articles entitledỺen y Werin yn Sir Gaernarfon, or the Folklore of Carnarvonshire. I happened to see it at a friend’s house, and I found at once that the writer was passionately fond of antiquities, and in the habit of making use of the frequent opportunities he has in the Dinorwig quarries for gathering information as to what used to be believed by the people of Arfon and Anglesey. The tale about to be given relates to a lake called Marchlyn Mawr, or the Great Horse-lake, for there are two lakes called Marchlyn: they lie near one another, between the Fronỻwyd, in the parish of Ỻandegai, and the Elidyr, in the parishes ofỺanđeiniolen and Ỻanberis. Mr. Lloyd Jones shall tell his tale in his own words:—Amgylchynir y Marchlyn Mawr gan greigiau erchyỻ yr olwg arnynt; a dywed trađodiad đarfod i un o feibion y Rhiwen17unwaith tra yn cynorthwyo dafad oeđ wedi syrthio i’r creigiau i đod ođiyno, đarganfod ogof anferth: aeth i fewn iđi a gwelođ ei bod yn ỻawn o drysorau ac arfau gwerthfawr; ond gan ei bod yn dechreu tywyỻu, a dringo i fynu yn orchwyl anhawđ hyd yn nod yn ngoleu’r dyđ, aeth adref y noswaith honno, a boreu drannoeth ar lasiad y dyđ cychwynnođ eilwaith i’r ogof, ac heb lawer o drafferth daeth o hyd iđi: aeth i fewn, a dechreuođ edrych o’i amgylch ar y trysorau oeđ yno:—Ar ganol yr ogof yr oeđ bwrđ enfawr o aur pur, ac ar y bwrđ goron o aur a pherlau: deaỻođ yn y fan mai coron a thrysorau Arthur oeđynt—nesaođ at y bwrđ, a phan oeđ yn estyn ei law i gymeryd gafael yn y goron dychrynwyd ef gan drwst erchyỻ, trwst megys mil o daranau yn ymrwygo uwch ei ben ac aeth yr hoỻ le can dywyỻed a’r afagđu. Ceisiođ ymbalfalu ođiyno gynted ag y gaỻai; pan lwyđođ i gyrraeđ i ganol y creigiau taflođ ei olwg ar y ỻyn, yr hwn oeđ wedi ei gynhyrfu drwyđo a’i donnau brigwynion yn cael eu ỻuchio trwy đaneđ ysgythrog y creigiau hyd y man yr oeđ efe yn sefyỻ arno; ond tra yr oeđ yn parhau i syỻu ar ganol y ỻyn gwelai gwrwgl a thair o’r benywod prydferthaf y disgynođ ỻygad unrhyw đyn arnynt erioed ynđo yn cael ei rwyfo yn brysur tuag at enau yr ogof. Ond och! yr oeđ golwg ofnadwy yr hwn oeđ yn rhwyfo yn đigon i beri iasau o fraw trwy y dyn cryfaf. Gaỻođ y ỻanc rywfođ đianc adref ond ni fuiechyd yn ei gyfansođiad ar ol hynny, a byđai hyd yn nod crybwyỻ enw y Marchlyn yn ei glywedigaeth yn đigon i’w yrru yn waỻgof.‘The Marchlyn Mawr is surrounded by rocks terrible to look at, and tradition relates how one of the sons of the farmer of Rhiwen, once on a time, when helping a sheep that had fallen among the rocks to get away, discovered a tremendous cave there; he entered, and saw that it was full of treasures and arms of great value; but, as it was beginning to grow dark, and as clambering back was a difficult matter even in the light of day, he went home that evening, and next morning with the grey dawn he set out again for the cave, when he found it without much trouble. He entered, and began to look about him at the treasures that were there. In the centre of the cave stood a huge table of pure gold, and on the table lay a crown of gold and pearls. He understood at once that they were the crown and treasures of Arthur. He approached the table, and as he stretched forth his hand to take hold of the crown he was frightened by an awful noise, the noise, as it were, of a thousand thunders bursting over his head, and the whole place became as dark as Tartarus. He tried to grope and feel his way out as fast as he could. When he had succeeded in reaching to the middle of the rocks, he cast his eye on the lake, which had been stirred all through, while its white-crested waves dashed through the jagged teeth of the rocks up to the spot on which he stood. But as he continued looking at the middle of the lake he beheld a coracle containing three women, the fairest that the eye of man ever fell on. They were being quickly rowed to the mouth of the cave; but the dread aspect of him who rowed was enough to send thrills of horror through the strongest of men. The youth was able somehow to escape home,but no health remained in his constitution after that, and even the mere mention of the Marchlyn in his hearing used to be enough to make him insane.’Mr. Lloyd Jones appends to the tale a note to the following effect:—There is a small eminence on the shore of the Marchlyn Mawr, in the parish of Ỻandegai, calledBryn Cwrwgl, or the ‘Hill of the Coracle’; andOgof y Marchlyn, or the ‘Marchlyn Cave,’ is a name familiar enough to everybody in these neighbourhoods. There were some—unless he ought to say that there still are some—who believed that there was abundance of treasure in the cave. Several young men from the quarries, both of the Cae and of Dinorwig, have been in the midst of the Marchlyn rocks, searching for the cave, and they succeeded in making their way into a cave. They came away, however, without the treasures. One old man, Robert Edwards (Iorwerth Sardis), used to tell him that he and several others had brought ropes from the quarry to go into the cave, but that they found no treasure. So far, I have given the substance of Mr. Jones’ words, to which I would add the following statement, which I have from a native of Dinorwig:—About seventy years ago, when the gentry were robbing the poor of these districts of their houses and of the lands which the latter had enclosed out of the commons, an old woman called Siân William of the Garneđ was obliged to flee from her house with her baby—the latter was known later in life as the Rev. Robert Ellis, of Ysgoldy—in her arms. It was in one of the Marchlyn caves that she found refuge for a day and night. Another kind of tale connected with the Marchlyn Mawr is recorded in the Powys-land Club’sCollections, Hist. and Arch., vol. xv. p. 137, by the Rev. Elias Owen, to the effect that ‘a man who was fishing in the lake found himself enveloped in the clouds that had descendedfrom the hills to the water. A sudden gust of wind cleared a road through the mist that hung over the lake, and revealed to his sight a man busily engaged in thatching a stack. The man, or rather the fairy, stood on a ladder. The stack and ladder rested on the surface of the lake.’
Some time ago I was favoured with a short but interesting tale by Mr. Evan Lloyd Jones, of Dinorwig, near Ỻanberis. Mr. Lloyd Jones, I may here mention, published not long ago, inỺais y Wlad(Bangor, North Wales), and in theDrych(Utica, United States of North America), a series of articles entitledỺen y Werin yn Sir Gaernarfon, or the Folklore of Carnarvonshire. I happened to see it at a friend’s house, and I found at once that the writer was passionately fond of antiquities, and in the habit of making use of the frequent opportunities he has in the Dinorwig quarries for gathering information as to what used to be believed by the people of Arfon and Anglesey. The tale about to be given relates to a lake called Marchlyn Mawr, or the Great Horse-lake, for there are two lakes called Marchlyn: they lie near one another, between the Fronỻwyd, in the parish of Ỻandegai, and the Elidyr, in the parishes ofỺanđeiniolen and Ỻanberis. Mr. Lloyd Jones shall tell his tale in his own words:—
Amgylchynir y Marchlyn Mawr gan greigiau erchyỻ yr olwg arnynt; a dywed trađodiad đarfod i un o feibion y Rhiwen17unwaith tra yn cynorthwyo dafad oeđ wedi syrthio i’r creigiau i đod ođiyno, đarganfod ogof anferth: aeth i fewn iđi a gwelođ ei bod yn ỻawn o drysorau ac arfau gwerthfawr; ond gan ei bod yn dechreu tywyỻu, a dringo i fynu yn orchwyl anhawđ hyd yn nod yn ngoleu’r dyđ, aeth adref y noswaith honno, a boreu drannoeth ar lasiad y dyđ cychwynnođ eilwaith i’r ogof, ac heb lawer o drafferth daeth o hyd iđi: aeth i fewn, a dechreuođ edrych o’i amgylch ar y trysorau oeđ yno:—Ar ganol yr ogof yr oeđ bwrđ enfawr o aur pur, ac ar y bwrđ goron o aur a pherlau: deaỻođ yn y fan mai coron a thrysorau Arthur oeđynt—nesaođ at y bwrđ, a phan oeđ yn estyn ei law i gymeryd gafael yn y goron dychrynwyd ef gan drwst erchyỻ, trwst megys mil o daranau yn ymrwygo uwch ei ben ac aeth yr hoỻ le can dywyỻed a’r afagđu. Ceisiođ ymbalfalu ođiyno gynted ag y gaỻai; pan lwyđođ i gyrraeđ i ganol y creigiau taflođ ei olwg ar y ỻyn, yr hwn oeđ wedi ei gynhyrfu drwyđo a’i donnau brigwynion yn cael eu ỻuchio trwy đaneđ ysgythrog y creigiau hyd y man yr oeđ efe yn sefyỻ arno; ond tra yr oeđ yn parhau i syỻu ar ganol y ỻyn gwelai gwrwgl a thair o’r benywod prydferthaf y disgynođ ỻygad unrhyw đyn arnynt erioed ynđo yn cael ei rwyfo yn brysur tuag at enau yr ogof. Ond och! yr oeđ golwg ofnadwy yr hwn oeđ yn rhwyfo yn đigon i beri iasau o fraw trwy y dyn cryfaf. Gaỻođ y ỻanc rywfođ đianc adref ond ni fuiechyd yn ei gyfansođiad ar ol hynny, a byđai hyd yn nod crybwyỻ enw y Marchlyn yn ei glywedigaeth yn đigon i’w yrru yn waỻgof.
‘The Marchlyn Mawr is surrounded by rocks terrible to look at, and tradition relates how one of the sons of the farmer of Rhiwen, once on a time, when helping a sheep that had fallen among the rocks to get away, discovered a tremendous cave there; he entered, and saw that it was full of treasures and arms of great value; but, as it was beginning to grow dark, and as clambering back was a difficult matter even in the light of day, he went home that evening, and next morning with the grey dawn he set out again for the cave, when he found it without much trouble. He entered, and began to look about him at the treasures that were there. In the centre of the cave stood a huge table of pure gold, and on the table lay a crown of gold and pearls. He understood at once that they were the crown and treasures of Arthur. He approached the table, and as he stretched forth his hand to take hold of the crown he was frightened by an awful noise, the noise, as it were, of a thousand thunders bursting over his head, and the whole place became as dark as Tartarus. He tried to grope and feel his way out as fast as he could. When he had succeeded in reaching to the middle of the rocks, he cast his eye on the lake, which had been stirred all through, while its white-crested waves dashed through the jagged teeth of the rocks up to the spot on which he stood. But as he continued looking at the middle of the lake he beheld a coracle containing three women, the fairest that the eye of man ever fell on. They were being quickly rowed to the mouth of the cave; but the dread aspect of him who rowed was enough to send thrills of horror through the strongest of men. The youth was able somehow to escape home,but no health remained in his constitution after that, and even the mere mention of the Marchlyn in his hearing used to be enough to make him insane.’
Mr. Lloyd Jones appends to the tale a note to the following effect:—There is a small eminence on the shore of the Marchlyn Mawr, in the parish of Ỻandegai, calledBryn Cwrwgl, or the ‘Hill of the Coracle’; andOgof y Marchlyn, or the ‘Marchlyn Cave,’ is a name familiar enough to everybody in these neighbourhoods. There were some—unless he ought to say that there still are some—who believed that there was abundance of treasure in the cave. Several young men from the quarries, both of the Cae and of Dinorwig, have been in the midst of the Marchlyn rocks, searching for the cave, and they succeeded in making their way into a cave. They came away, however, without the treasures. One old man, Robert Edwards (Iorwerth Sardis), used to tell him that he and several others had brought ropes from the quarry to go into the cave, but that they found no treasure. So far, I have given the substance of Mr. Jones’ words, to which I would add the following statement, which I have from a native of Dinorwig:—About seventy years ago, when the gentry were robbing the poor of these districts of their houses and of the lands which the latter had enclosed out of the commons, an old woman called Siân William of the Garneđ was obliged to flee from her house with her baby—the latter was known later in life as the Rev. Robert Ellis, of Ysgoldy—in her arms. It was in one of the Marchlyn caves that she found refuge for a day and night. Another kind of tale connected with the Marchlyn Mawr is recorded in the Powys-land Club’sCollections, Hist. and Arch., vol. xv. p. 137, by the Rev. Elias Owen, to the effect that ‘a man who was fishing in the lake found himself enveloped in the clouds that had descendedfrom the hills to the water. A sudden gust of wind cleared a road through the mist that hung over the lake, and revealed to his sight a man busily engaged in thatching a stack. The man, or rather the fairy, stood on a ladder. The stack and ladder rested on the surface of the lake.’