VII.Soon afterwards I went to the neighbourhood of Aber Soch and Ỻanengan, where I was lucky enough to find Professor Owen of St. David’s College, Lampeter, since appointed Bishop of St. David’s, on a visit to his native place. He took me round to those of the inhabitants who were thought most likely to have tales to tell; but I found nothing about the fairies except the usual story of their borrowingpadeỻ a gradeỻ, and of their changing children. However, one version I heard of the process of recovering the stolen child differs from all others known to me: it was given us by Margaret Edwards, of Pentre Bach, whose age was then eighty-seven. It was to the effect that the mother, who had been given a fairy infant, was to place it on the floor, and that all those present in the house should throw a piece of iron at it. This she thought was done with the view of convincing theTylwyth Tegof the intention to kill the changeling, and in order to induce them to bring the right child back. The plan was, we are told, always successful, and it illustrates, to my thinking, the supposed efficacy of iron against the fairies.On the way to Aber Soch I passed by an old-fashioned house which has all the appearance of having once been a place of considerable importance; and on being told that its name is Casteỻmarch, I began thinking of March ab Meirchion mentioned in the Triads. He, I had long been convinced, ought to be the Welsh reflex of Labhraidh Lorc, or the Irish king with horse’s ears; and the corresponding Greek character of Midas with ass’s ears is so well known that I need not dwell on it. So Iundertook to question various people in the neighbourhood about the meaning of the name of Casteỻmarch. Most of them analysed it intoCasteỻ y March, the ‘Castle of the Steed,’ and explained that the knight of the shire or some other respectable obscurity kept his horses there. This treatment of the word is not very decidedly countenanced by the pronunciation, which makes the name into one word strongly accented on the middle syllable. It was further related to me how Casteỻmarch was once upon a time inhabited by a very wicked and cruel man, one of whose servants, after being very unkindly treated by him, ran away and went on board a man-of-war. Some time afterwards the man-of-war happened to be in Cardigan Bay, and the runaway servant persuaded the captain of the vessel to come and anchor in the Tudwal Roads. Furthermore he induced him to shell his old master’s mansion; and the story is regarded as proved by the old bullets now and then found at Casteỻmarch. It has since been suggested to me that the bullets are evidence of an attack on the place during the Civil War, which is not improbable. But having got so far as to find that there was a wicked, cruel man associated with Casteỻmarch, I thought I should at once hear the item of tradition which I was fishing for; but not so: it was not to be wormed out in a hurry. However, after tiring a very old blacksmith, whose memory was far gone, with my questions, and after he had in his turn tired me with answers of the kind I have already described, I ventured to put it to him at last whether he had never heard some very silly tale about the lord of Casteỻmarch, to the effect that he was not quite like other men. He at once admitted that he had heard it said that he had horse’s ears, but that he would never have thought of repeating such nonsense to me. This is not a bad instance of thedifficulty which one has in eliciting this sort of tradition from the people. It is true that, as far as regards Casteỻmarch, nothing, as it happens, would have been lost if I had failed at Aber Soch, for I got the same information later at Sarn Fyỻteyrn; not to mention that after coming back to my books, and once more turning over the leaves of theBrython, I was delighted to find the tale there. It occurs at p. 431 of the volume for 1860. It is given with several other interesting bits of antiquity, and at the end the editor has put ‘Edward Ỻwyd, 1693’; so I suppose the whole comes from letters emanating from the great Lhwyd, for so, or ratherLhuyd, he preferred to write his name. It is to the following effect:—One of Arthur’s warriors, whose name was March (or Parch) Amheirchion16, was lord of Casteỻmarch in Ỻeyn. This man had horse’s ears (resembling Midas), and lest anybody should know it, he used to kill everyman he sought to shave his beard, for fear lest he should not be able to keep the secret; and on the spot where he was wont to bury the bodies there grew reeds, one of which somebody cut to make a pipe. The pipe would give no other sound than ‘March Amheirchion has horse’s ears.’ When the warrior heard this, he would probably have killed the innocent man on that account, if he had not himself failed to make the pipe produce any other sound. But after hearing where the reed had grown, he made no further effort to conceal either the murders or his ears. This story of Edward Ỻwyd’s clearly goes back to a time when some kind of a pipe was the favourite musical instrument in North Wales, and not the harp.
VII.Soon afterwards I went to the neighbourhood of Aber Soch and Ỻanengan, where I was lucky enough to find Professor Owen of St. David’s College, Lampeter, since appointed Bishop of St. David’s, on a visit to his native place. He took me round to those of the inhabitants who were thought most likely to have tales to tell; but I found nothing about the fairies except the usual story of their borrowingpadeỻ a gradeỻ, and of their changing children. However, one version I heard of the process of recovering the stolen child differs from all others known to me: it was given us by Margaret Edwards, of Pentre Bach, whose age was then eighty-seven. It was to the effect that the mother, who had been given a fairy infant, was to place it on the floor, and that all those present in the house should throw a piece of iron at it. This she thought was done with the view of convincing theTylwyth Tegof the intention to kill the changeling, and in order to induce them to bring the right child back. The plan was, we are told, always successful, and it illustrates, to my thinking, the supposed efficacy of iron against the fairies.On the way to Aber Soch I passed by an old-fashioned house which has all the appearance of having once been a place of considerable importance; and on being told that its name is Casteỻmarch, I began thinking of March ab Meirchion mentioned in the Triads. He, I had long been convinced, ought to be the Welsh reflex of Labhraidh Lorc, or the Irish king with horse’s ears; and the corresponding Greek character of Midas with ass’s ears is so well known that I need not dwell on it. So Iundertook to question various people in the neighbourhood about the meaning of the name of Casteỻmarch. Most of them analysed it intoCasteỻ y March, the ‘Castle of the Steed,’ and explained that the knight of the shire or some other respectable obscurity kept his horses there. This treatment of the word is not very decidedly countenanced by the pronunciation, which makes the name into one word strongly accented on the middle syllable. It was further related to me how Casteỻmarch was once upon a time inhabited by a very wicked and cruel man, one of whose servants, after being very unkindly treated by him, ran away and went on board a man-of-war. Some time afterwards the man-of-war happened to be in Cardigan Bay, and the runaway servant persuaded the captain of the vessel to come and anchor in the Tudwal Roads. Furthermore he induced him to shell his old master’s mansion; and the story is regarded as proved by the old bullets now and then found at Casteỻmarch. It has since been suggested to me that the bullets are evidence of an attack on the place during the Civil War, which is not improbable. But having got so far as to find that there was a wicked, cruel man associated with Casteỻmarch, I thought I should at once hear the item of tradition which I was fishing for; but not so: it was not to be wormed out in a hurry. However, after tiring a very old blacksmith, whose memory was far gone, with my questions, and after he had in his turn tired me with answers of the kind I have already described, I ventured to put it to him at last whether he had never heard some very silly tale about the lord of Casteỻmarch, to the effect that he was not quite like other men. He at once admitted that he had heard it said that he had horse’s ears, but that he would never have thought of repeating such nonsense to me. This is not a bad instance of thedifficulty which one has in eliciting this sort of tradition from the people. It is true that, as far as regards Casteỻmarch, nothing, as it happens, would have been lost if I had failed at Aber Soch, for I got the same information later at Sarn Fyỻteyrn; not to mention that after coming back to my books, and once more turning over the leaves of theBrython, I was delighted to find the tale there. It occurs at p. 431 of the volume for 1860. It is given with several other interesting bits of antiquity, and at the end the editor has put ‘Edward Ỻwyd, 1693’; so I suppose the whole comes from letters emanating from the great Lhwyd, for so, or ratherLhuyd, he preferred to write his name. It is to the following effect:—One of Arthur’s warriors, whose name was March (or Parch) Amheirchion16, was lord of Casteỻmarch in Ỻeyn. This man had horse’s ears (resembling Midas), and lest anybody should know it, he used to kill everyman he sought to shave his beard, for fear lest he should not be able to keep the secret; and on the spot where he was wont to bury the bodies there grew reeds, one of which somebody cut to make a pipe. The pipe would give no other sound than ‘March Amheirchion has horse’s ears.’ When the warrior heard this, he would probably have killed the innocent man on that account, if he had not himself failed to make the pipe produce any other sound. But after hearing where the reed had grown, he made no further effort to conceal either the murders or his ears. This story of Edward Ỻwyd’s clearly goes back to a time when some kind of a pipe was the favourite musical instrument in North Wales, and not the harp.
VII.Soon afterwards I went to the neighbourhood of Aber Soch and Ỻanengan, where I was lucky enough to find Professor Owen of St. David’s College, Lampeter, since appointed Bishop of St. David’s, on a visit to his native place. He took me round to those of the inhabitants who were thought most likely to have tales to tell; but I found nothing about the fairies except the usual story of their borrowingpadeỻ a gradeỻ, and of their changing children. However, one version I heard of the process of recovering the stolen child differs from all others known to me: it was given us by Margaret Edwards, of Pentre Bach, whose age was then eighty-seven. It was to the effect that the mother, who had been given a fairy infant, was to place it on the floor, and that all those present in the house should throw a piece of iron at it. This she thought was done with the view of convincing theTylwyth Tegof the intention to kill the changeling, and in order to induce them to bring the right child back. The plan was, we are told, always successful, and it illustrates, to my thinking, the supposed efficacy of iron against the fairies.On the way to Aber Soch I passed by an old-fashioned house which has all the appearance of having once been a place of considerable importance; and on being told that its name is Casteỻmarch, I began thinking of March ab Meirchion mentioned in the Triads. He, I had long been convinced, ought to be the Welsh reflex of Labhraidh Lorc, or the Irish king with horse’s ears; and the corresponding Greek character of Midas with ass’s ears is so well known that I need not dwell on it. So Iundertook to question various people in the neighbourhood about the meaning of the name of Casteỻmarch. Most of them analysed it intoCasteỻ y March, the ‘Castle of the Steed,’ and explained that the knight of the shire or some other respectable obscurity kept his horses there. This treatment of the word is not very decidedly countenanced by the pronunciation, which makes the name into one word strongly accented on the middle syllable. It was further related to me how Casteỻmarch was once upon a time inhabited by a very wicked and cruel man, one of whose servants, after being very unkindly treated by him, ran away and went on board a man-of-war. Some time afterwards the man-of-war happened to be in Cardigan Bay, and the runaway servant persuaded the captain of the vessel to come and anchor in the Tudwal Roads. Furthermore he induced him to shell his old master’s mansion; and the story is regarded as proved by the old bullets now and then found at Casteỻmarch. It has since been suggested to me that the bullets are evidence of an attack on the place during the Civil War, which is not improbable. But having got so far as to find that there was a wicked, cruel man associated with Casteỻmarch, I thought I should at once hear the item of tradition which I was fishing for; but not so: it was not to be wormed out in a hurry. However, after tiring a very old blacksmith, whose memory was far gone, with my questions, and after he had in his turn tired me with answers of the kind I have already described, I ventured to put it to him at last whether he had never heard some very silly tale about the lord of Casteỻmarch, to the effect that he was not quite like other men. He at once admitted that he had heard it said that he had horse’s ears, but that he would never have thought of repeating such nonsense to me. This is not a bad instance of thedifficulty which one has in eliciting this sort of tradition from the people. It is true that, as far as regards Casteỻmarch, nothing, as it happens, would have been lost if I had failed at Aber Soch, for I got the same information later at Sarn Fyỻteyrn; not to mention that after coming back to my books, and once more turning over the leaves of theBrython, I was delighted to find the tale there. It occurs at p. 431 of the volume for 1860. It is given with several other interesting bits of antiquity, and at the end the editor has put ‘Edward Ỻwyd, 1693’; so I suppose the whole comes from letters emanating from the great Lhwyd, for so, or ratherLhuyd, he preferred to write his name. It is to the following effect:—One of Arthur’s warriors, whose name was March (or Parch) Amheirchion16, was lord of Casteỻmarch in Ỻeyn. This man had horse’s ears (resembling Midas), and lest anybody should know it, he used to kill everyman he sought to shave his beard, for fear lest he should not be able to keep the secret; and on the spot where he was wont to bury the bodies there grew reeds, one of which somebody cut to make a pipe. The pipe would give no other sound than ‘March Amheirchion has horse’s ears.’ When the warrior heard this, he would probably have killed the innocent man on that account, if he had not himself failed to make the pipe produce any other sound. But after hearing where the reed had grown, he made no further effort to conceal either the murders or his ears. This story of Edward Ỻwyd’s clearly goes back to a time when some kind of a pipe was the favourite musical instrument in North Wales, and not the harp.
VII.Soon afterwards I went to the neighbourhood of Aber Soch and Ỻanengan, where I was lucky enough to find Professor Owen of St. David’s College, Lampeter, since appointed Bishop of St. David’s, on a visit to his native place. He took me round to those of the inhabitants who were thought most likely to have tales to tell; but I found nothing about the fairies except the usual story of their borrowingpadeỻ a gradeỻ, and of their changing children. However, one version I heard of the process of recovering the stolen child differs from all others known to me: it was given us by Margaret Edwards, of Pentre Bach, whose age was then eighty-seven. It was to the effect that the mother, who had been given a fairy infant, was to place it on the floor, and that all those present in the house should throw a piece of iron at it. This she thought was done with the view of convincing theTylwyth Tegof the intention to kill the changeling, and in order to induce them to bring the right child back. The plan was, we are told, always successful, and it illustrates, to my thinking, the supposed efficacy of iron against the fairies.On the way to Aber Soch I passed by an old-fashioned house which has all the appearance of having once been a place of considerable importance; and on being told that its name is Casteỻmarch, I began thinking of March ab Meirchion mentioned in the Triads. He, I had long been convinced, ought to be the Welsh reflex of Labhraidh Lorc, or the Irish king with horse’s ears; and the corresponding Greek character of Midas with ass’s ears is so well known that I need not dwell on it. So Iundertook to question various people in the neighbourhood about the meaning of the name of Casteỻmarch. Most of them analysed it intoCasteỻ y March, the ‘Castle of the Steed,’ and explained that the knight of the shire or some other respectable obscurity kept his horses there. This treatment of the word is not very decidedly countenanced by the pronunciation, which makes the name into one word strongly accented on the middle syllable. It was further related to me how Casteỻmarch was once upon a time inhabited by a very wicked and cruel man, one of whose servants, after being very unkindly treated by him, ran away and went on board a man-of-war. Some time afterwards the man-of-war happened to be in Cardigan Bay, and the runaway servant persuaded the captain of the vessel to come and anchor in the Tudwal Roads. Furthermore he induced him to shell his old master’s mansion; and the story is regarded as proved by the old bullets now and then found at Casteỻmarch. It has since been suggested to me that the bullets are evidence of an attack on the place during the Civil War, which is not improbable. But having got so far as to find that there was a wicked, cruel man associated with Casteỻmarch, I thought I should at once hear the item of tradition which I was fishing for; but not so: it was not to be wormed out in a hurry. However, after tiring a very old blacksmith, whose memory was far gone, with my questions, and after he had in his turn tired me with answers of the kind I have already described, I ventured to put it to him at last whether he had never heard some very silly tale about the lord of Casteỻmarch, to the effect that he was not quite like other men. He at once admitted that he had heard it said that he had horse’s ears, but that he would never have thought of repeating such nonsense to me. This is not a bad instance of thedifficulty which one has in eliciting this sort of tradition from the people. It is true that, as far as regards Casteỻmarch, nothing, as it happens, would have been lost if I had failed at Aber Soch, for I got the same information later at Sarn Fyỻteyrn; not to mention that after coming back to my books, and once more turning over the leaves of theBrython, I was delighted to find the tale there. It occurs at p. 431 of the volume for 1860. It is given with several other interesting bits of antiquity, and at the end the editor has put ‘Edward Ỻwyd, 1693’; so I suppose the whole comes from letters emanating from the great Lhwyd, for so, or ratherLhuyd, he preferred to write his name. It is to the following effect:—One of Arthur’s warriors, whose name was March (or Parch) Amheirchion16, was lord of Casteỻmarch in Ỻeyn. This man had horse’s ears (resembling Midas), and lest anybody should know it, he used to kill everyman he sought to shave his beard, for fear lest he should not be able to keep the secret; and on the spot where he was wont to bury the bodies there grew reeds, one of which somebody cut to make a pipe. The pipe would give no other sound than ‘March Amheirchion has horse’s ears.’ When the warrior heard this, he would probably have killed the innocent man on that account, if he had not himself failed to make the pipe produce any other sound. But after hearing where the reed had grown, he made no further effort to conceal either the murders or his ears. This story of Edward Ỻwyd’s clearly goes back to a time when some kind of a pipe was the favourite musical instrument in North Wales, and not the harp.
VII.
Soon afterwards I went to the neighbourhood of Aber Soch and Ỻanengan, where I was lucky enough to find Professor Owen of St. David’s College, Lampeter, since appointed Bishop of St. David’s, on a visit to his native place. He took me round to those of the inhabitants who were thought most likely to have tales to tell; but I found nothing about the fairies except the usual story of their borrowingpadeỻ a gradeỻ, and of their changing children. However, one version I heard of the process of recovering the stolen child differs from all others known to me: it was given us by Margaret Edwards, of Pentre Bach, whose age was then eighty-seven. It was to the effect that the mother, who had been given a fairy infant, was to place it on the floor, and that all those present in the house should throw a piece of iron at it. This she thought was done with the view of convincing theTylwyth Tegof the intention to kill the changeling, and in order to induce them to bring the right child back. The plan was, we are told, always successful, and it illustrates, to my thinking, the supposed efficacy of iron against the fairies.On the way to Aber Soch I passed by an old-fashioned house which has all the appearance of having once been a place of considerable importance; and on being told that its name is Casteỻmarch, I began thinking of March ab Meirchion mentioned in the Triads. He, I had long been convinced, ought to be the Welsh reflex of Labhraidh Lorc, or the Irish king with horse’s ears; and the corresponding Greek character of Midas with ass’s ears is so well known that I need not dwell on it. So Iundertook to question various people in the neighbourhood about the meaning of the name of Casteỻmarch. Most of them analysed it intoCasteỻ y March, the ‘Castle of the Steed,’ and explained that the knight of the shire or some other respectable obscurity kept his horses there. This treatment of the word is not very decidedly countenanced by the pronunciation, which makes the name into one word strongly accented on the middle syllable. It was further related to me how Casteỻmarch was once upon a time inhabited by a very wicked and cruel man, one of whose servants, after being very unkindly treated by him, ran away and went on board a man-of-war. Some time afterwards the man-of-war happened to be in Cardigan Bay, and the runaway servant persuaded the captain of the vessel to come and anchor in the Tudwal Roads. Furthermore he induced him to shell his old master’s mansion; and the story is regarded as proved by the old bullets now and then found at Casteỻmarch. It has since been suggested to me that the bullets are evidence of an attack on the place during the Civil War, which is not improbable. But having got so far as to find that there was a wicked, cruel man associated with Casteỻmarch, I thought I should at once hear the item of tradition which I was fishing for; but not so: it was not to be wormed out in a hurry. However, after tiring a very old blacksmith, whose memory was far gone, with my questions, and after he had in his turn tired me with answers of the kind I have already described, I ventured to put it to him at last whether he had never heard some very silly tale about the lord of Casteỻmarch, to the effect that he was not quite like other men. He at once admitted that he had heard it said that he had horse’s ears, but that he would never have thought of repeating such nonsense to me. This is not a bad instance of thedifficulty which one has in eliciting this sort of tradition from the people. It is true that, as far as regards Casteỻmarch, nothing, as it happens, would have been lost if I had failed at Aber Soch, for I got the same information later at Sarn Fyỻteyrn; not to mention that after coming back to my books, and once more turning over the leaves of theBrython, I was delighted to find the tale there. It occurs at p. 431 of the volume for 1860. It is given with several other interesting bits of antiquity, and at the end the editor has put ‘Edward Ỻwyd, 1693’; so I suppose the whole comes from letters emanating from the great Lhwyd, for so, or ratherLhuyd, he preferred to write his name. It is to the following effect:—One of Arthur’s warriors, whose name was March (or Parch) Amheirchion16, was lord of Casteỻmarch in Ỻeyn. This man had horse’s ears (resembling Midas), and lest anybody should know it, he used to kill everyman he sought to shave his beard, for fear lest he should not be able to keep the secret; and on the spot where he was wont to bury the bodies there grew reeds, one of which somebody cut to make a pipe. The pipe would give no other sound than ‘March Amheirchion has horse’s ears.’ When the warrior heard this, he would probably have killed the innocent man on that account, if he had not himself failed to make the pipe produce any other sound. But after hearing where the reed had grown, he made no further effort to conceal either the murders or his ears. This story of Edward Ỻwyd’s clearly goes back to a time when some kind of a pipe was the favourite musical instrument in North Wales, and not the harp.
Soon afterwards I went to the neighbourhood of Aber Soch and Ỻanengan, where I was lucky enough to find Professor Owen of St. David’s College, Lampeter, since appointed Bishop of St. David’s, on a visit to his native place. He took me round to those of the inhabitants who were thought most likely to have tales to tell; but I found nothing about the fairies except the usual story of their borrowingpadeỻ a gradeỻ, and of their changing children. However, one version I heard of the process of recovering the stolen child differs from all others known to me: it was given us by Margaret Edwards, of Pentre Bach, whose age was then eighty-seven. It was to the effect that the mother, who had been given a fairy infant, was to place it on the floor, and that all those present in the house should throw a piece of iron at it. This she thought was done with the view of convincing theTylwyth Tegof the intention to kill the changeling, and in order to induce them to bring the right child back. The plan was, we are told, always successful, and it illustrates, to my thinking, the supposed efficacy of iron against the fairies.
On the way to Aber Soch I passed by an old-fashioned house which has all the appearance of having once been a place of considerable importance; and on being told that its name is Casteỻmarch, I began thinking of March ab Meirchion mentioned in the Triads. He, I had long been convinced, ought to be the Welsh reflex of Labhraidh Lorc, or the Irish king with horse’s ears; and the corresponding Greek character of Midas with ass’s ears is so well known that I need not dwell on it. So Iundertook to question various people in the neighbourhood about the meaning of the name of Casteỻmarch. Most of them analysed it intoCasteỻ y March, the ‘Castle of the Steed,’ and explained that the knight of the shire or some other respectable obscurity kept his horses there. This treatment of the word is not very decidedly countenanced by the pronunciation, which makes the name into one word strongly accented on the middle syllable. It was further related to me how Casteỻmarch was once upon a time inhabited by a very wicked and cruel man, one of whose servants, after being very unkindly treated by him, ran away and went on board a man-of-war. Some time afterwards the man-of-war happened to be in Cardigan Bay, and the runaway servant persuaded the captain of the vessel to come and anchor in the Tudwal Roads. Furthermore he induced him to shell his old master’s mansion; and the story is regarded as proved by the old bullets now and then found at Casteỻmarch. It has since been suggested to me that the bullets are evidence of an attack on the place during the Civil War, which is not improbable. But having got so far as to find that there was a wicked, cruel man associated with Casteỻmarch, I thought I should at once hear the item of tradition which I was fishing for; but not so: it was not to be wormed out in a hurry. However, after tiring a very old blacksmith, whose memory was far gone, with my questions, and after he had in his turn tired me with answers of the kind I have already described, I ventured to put it to him at last whether he had never heard some very silly tale about the lord of Casteỻmarch, to the effect that he was not quite like other men. He at once admitted that he had heard it said that he had horse’s ears, but that he would never have thought of repeating such nonsense to me. This is not a bad instance of thedifficulty which one has in eliciting this sort of tradition from the people. It is true that, as far as regards Casteỻmarch, nothing, as it happens, would have been lost if I had failed at Aber Soch, for I got the same information later at Sarn Fyỻteyrn; not to mention that after coming back to my books, and once more turning over the leaves of theBrython, I was delighted to find the tale there. It occurs at p. 431 of the volume for 1860. It is given with several other interesting bits of antiquity, and at the end the editor has put ‘Edward Ỻwyd, 1693’; so I suppose the whole comes from letters emanating from the great Lhwyd, for so, or ratherLhuyd, he preferred to write his name. It is to the following effect:—
One of Arthur’s warriors, whose name was March (or Parch) Amheirchion16, was lord of Casteỻmarch in Ỻeyn. This man had horse’s ears (resembling Midas), and lest anybody should know it, he used to kill everyman he sought to shave his beard, for fear lest he should not be able to keep the secret; and on the spot where he was wont to bury the bodies there grew reeds, one of which somebody cut to make a pipe. The pipe would give no other sound than ‘March Amheirchion has horse’s ears.’ When the warrior heard this, he would probably have killed the innocent man on that account, if he had not himself failed to make the pipe produce any other sound. But after hearing where the reed had grown, he made no further effort to conceal either the murders or his ears. This story of Edward Ỻwyd’s clearly goes back to a time when some kind of a pipe was the favourite musical instrument in North Wales, and not the harp.