VI.The parish of Ỻanfachreth and its traditions have been the subject of some contributions to the first volume of theTaliesinpublished at Ruthin in 1859–60, pp. 132–7, by a writer who calls himselfCofiadur. It was Glasynys, I believe, for the style seems to be his: he pretends to copy from an old manuscript of Hugh Bifan’s—both the manuscript and its owner were fictions of Glasynys’ as I am told. These jottings contain two or three items about the fairies which seem to be genuine:—‘The bottom of Ỻyn Cynnwch, on the Nannau estate, is level with the hearth-stone of the house of Dôl y Clochyđ. Its depth was found out owing to the sweetheart of one of Siwsi’s girls having lost his way to her from Nannau, where he was a servant. Thepoor man had fallen into the lake, and gone down and down, when he found it becoming clearer the lower he got, until at last he alighted on a level spot where everybody and everything looked much as he had observed on the dry land. When he had reached the bottom of the lake, a short fat old gentleman came to him and asked his business, when he told him how it happened that he had come. He met with great welcome, and he stayed there a month without knowing that he had been there three days, and when he was going to leave, he was led out to his beloved by the inhabitants of the lake bottom. He asserted that the whole way was level except in one place, where they descended about a fathom into the ground; but, he added, it was necessary to ascend about as much to reach the hearth-stone of Dôl y Clochyđ. The most wonderful thing, however, was that the stone lifted itself as he came up from the subterranean road towards it. It was thus the sweetheart arrived there one evening, when the girl was by the fire weeping for him. Siwsi had been out some days before, and she knew all about it though she said nothing to anybody. This, then, was the way in which the depth of Ỻyn Cynnwch came to be known.’Then he has a few sentences about an old house called Ceimarch:—‘Ceimarch was an old mansion of considerable repute, and in old times it was considered next to Nannau in point of importance in the whole district. There was a deep ditch round it, which was always kept full of water, with the view of keeping off vagabonds and thieves, as well as other lawless folks, that they might not take the inmates by surprise. But, in distant ages, this place was very noted for the frequent visits paid it by the fair family. They used to come to the ditch to wash themselves, and to cross the waterin boats made of the bark of the rowan-tree15, or else birch, and they came into the house to pay their rent for trampling the ground around the place. They always placed a piece of money under a pitcher, and the result was that the family living there became remarkably rich. But somehow, after the lapse of many years, the owner of the place offended them, by showing disrespect for their diminutive family: soon the world began to go against him, and it was not long before he got low in life. Everything turned against him, and in times past everybody believed that he incurred all this because he had earned the displeasure of the fair family.’In theBrythonfor the year 1862, p. 456, in the course of an essay on the history of the Lordship of Mawđwy in Merioneth, considered the best in a competition at an Eisteđfod held at Dinas Mawđwy, August 2, 1855, Glasynys gives the following bit about the fairies of that neighbourhood:—‘The side of Aran Fawđwy is a great place for the fair family: they are ever at it playing their games on the hillsides about this spot. It is said that they are numberless likewise about Bwlch y Groes. Once a boy crossed over near the approach of night, one summer eve, from the Gadfa to Mawđwy, and on his return he saw near Aber Rhiwlech a swarm of the little family dancing away full pelt. The boy began to run, with two of the maidens in pursuit of him, entreating him to stay; but Robin, for that was his name, kept running, and the two elves failed altogether to catch him, otherwise he would have been taken a prisoner of love. There are plenty of their dancing-rings to be seen on the hillsides between Aber Rhiwlech and Bwlch y Groes.’Here I would introduce two other Merionethshire tales, which I have received from Mr. E. S. Roberts, master of the Ỻandysilio School, near Ỻangoỻen. He has learnt them from one Abel Evans, who lives at present in the parish of Ỻandysilio: he is a native of the parish of Ỻandriỻo on the slopes of the Berwyn, and of a glen in the same, known as Cwm Pennant, so called from its being drained by the Pennant on its way to join the Dee. Now Cwm Pennant was the resort of fairies, or of a certain family of them, and the occurrence, related in the following tale, must have taken place no less than seventy years ago: it was well known to the late Mrs. Ellen Edwards of Ỻandriỻo:—Ryw điwrnod aeth dau gyfaiỻ i hela dwfrgwn ar hyd lannau afon Pennant, a thra yn cyfeirio eu camrau tuagat yr afon gwelsant ryw greadur bychan ỻiwgoch yn rhedeg yn gyflym iawn ar draws un o’r dolyđ yn nghyfeiriad yr afon. Ymaeth a nhw ar ei ol. Gwelsant ei fod wedi myned ođitan wraiđ coeden yn ochr yr afon i ymguđio. Yr oeđ y đau đyn yn međwl mae dwfrgi ydoeđ, ond ar yr un pryd yn methu a deaỻ paham yr ymđanghosai i’w ỻygaid yn ỻiwgoch. Yr oeđynt yn dymuno ei đal yn fyw, ac ymaith yr aeth un o honynt i ffarmdy gerỻaw i ofyn am sach, yr hon a gafwyd, er mwyn rhoi y creadur ynđi. Yr oeđ yno đau dwỻ o tan wraiđ y pren, a thra daliai un y sach yn agored ar un twỻ yr oeđ y ỻaỻ yn hwthio ffon i’r twỻ araỻ, ac yn y man aeth y creadur i’r sach. Yr oeđ y đau đyn yn međwl eu bod wedi dal dwfrgi, yr hyn a ystyrient yn orchest nid bychan. Cychwynasant gartref yn ỻawen ond cyn eu myned hyd ỻed cae, ỻefarođ ỻetywr y sach mewn ton drist gan đywedyd—‘Y mae fy mam yn galw am danaf, O, mae fy mam yn galw am danaf,’ yr hyn a rođođ fraw mawr i’r đau heliwr, ac yn y man taflasanty sach i lawr, a mawr oeđ eu rhyfeđod a’u dychryn pan welsant đyn bach mewn gwisg goch yn rhedeg o’r sach tuagat yr afon. Fe a điflannođ o’i golwg yn mysg y drysni ar fin yr afon. Yr oeđ y đau wedi eu brawychu yn đirfawr ac yn teimlo mae doethach oeđ myned gartref yn hytrach nag ymyrraeth yn mheỻach a’r Tylwyth Teg.‘One day, two friends went to hunt otters on the banks of the Pennant, and when they were directing their steps towards the river, they beheld some small creature of a red colour running fast across the meadows in the direction of the river. Off they ran after it, and saw that it went beneath the roots of a tree on the brink of the river to hide itself. The two men thought it was an otter, but, at the same time, they could not understand why it seemed to them to be of a red colour. They wished to take it alive, and off one of them went to a farm house that was not far away to ask for a sack, which he got, to put the creature into it. Now there were two holes under the roots of the tree, and while one held the sack with its mouth open over one of them, the other pushed his stick into the other hole, and presently the creature went into the sack. The two men thought they had caught an otter, which they looked upon as no small feat. They set out for home, but before they had proceeded the width of one field, the inmate of the sack spoke to them in a sad voice, and said, “My mother is calling for me; oh, my mother is calling for me!” This gave the two hunters a great fright, so that they at once threw down the sack; and great was their surprise to see a little man in a red dress running out of the sack towards the river. He disappeared from their sight in the bushes by the river. The two men were greatly terrified, and felt that it was more prudent to go home than meddle any further with the fair family.’ So far as I know,this story stands alone in Welsh folklore; but it has an exact parallel in Lancashire16.The other story, which I now reproduce, was obtained by Mr. Roberts from the same Abel Evans. He learnt it from Mrs. Ellen Edwards, and it refers to a point in her lifetime, which Abel Evans fixes at ninety years ago. Mr. Roberts has not succeeded in recovering the name of the cottager of whom it speaks; but he lived on the side of the Berwyn, above Cwm Pennant, where till lately a cottage used to stand, near which the fairies had one of their resorts:—Yr oeđ perchen y bwthyn wedi amaethu rhyw ran fychan o’r mynyđ ger ỻaw y ty er mwyn plannu pytatws ynđo. Feỻy y gwnaeth. Mewn coeden yn agos i’r fan canfyđođ nyth bran. Fe feđyliođ mae doeth fuasai iđo đryỻio y nyth cyn amlhau o’r brain. Fe a esgynnođ y goeden ac a đryỻiođ y nyth, ac wedi disgyn i lawr canfyđođ gylch glas(fairy ring)ođiamgylch y pren, ac ar y cylch fe welođ hanner coron er ei fawr lawenyđ. Wrth fyned heibio yr un fan y boreu canlynol fe gafođ hanner coron yn yr un man ag y cafođ y dyđ o’r blaen. Hynna fu am amryw đyđiau. Un diwrnod dywedođ wrth gyfaiỻ am ei hap đa a đangosođ y fan a’r ỻe y cawsai yr hanner coron bob boreu. Wel y boreu canlynol nid oeđ yno na hanner coron na dim araỻ iđo, oherwyđ yr oeđ wedi torri rheolau y Tylwythion trwy wneud eu haelioni yn hysbys. Y mae y Tylwythion o’r farn na đylai y ỻaw aswy wybod yr hyn a wna y ỻaw đehau.‘The occupier of the cottage had tilled a small portion of the mountain side near his home in order to plant potatoes, which he did. He observed that there was a rook’s nest on a tree which was not far from this spot, and it struck him that it would be prudent to breakthe nest before the rooks multiplied. So he climbed the tree and broke the nest, and, after coming down, he noticed a green circle (a fairy ring) round the tree, and on this circle he espied, to his great joy, half a crown. As he went by the same spot the following morning, he found another half a crown in the same place as before. So it happened for several days; but one day he told a friend of his good luck, and showed him the spot where he found half a crown every morning. Now the next morning there was for him neither half a crown nor anything else, because he had broken the rule of the fair folks by making their liberality known, they being of opinion that the left hand should not know what the right hand does.’So runs this short tale, which the old lady, Mrs. Edwards, and the people of the neighbourhood explained as an instance of the gratitude of the fairies to a man who had rendered them a service, which in this case was supposed to have consisted in ridding them of the rooks, that disturbed their merry-makings in the green ring beneath the branches of the tree.
VI.The parish of Ỻanfachreth and its traditions have been the subject of some contributions to the first volume of theTaliesinpublished at Ruthin in 1859–60, pp. 132–7, by a writer who calls himselfCofiadur. It was Glasynys, I believe, for the style seems to be his: he pretends to copy from an old manuscript of Hugh Bifan’s—both the manuscript and its owner were fictions of Glasynys’ as I am told. These jottings contain two or three items about the fairies which seem to be genuine:—‘The bottom of Ỻyn Cynnwch, on the Nannau estate, is level with the hearth-stone of the house of Dôl y Clochyđ. Its depth was found out owing to the sweetheart of one of Siwsi’s girls having lost his way to her from Nannau, where he was a servant. Thepoor man had fallen into the lake, and gone down and down, when he found it becoming clearer the lower he got, until at last he alighted on a level spot where everybody and everything looked much as he had observed on the dry land. When he had reached the bottom of the lake, a short fat old gentleman came to him and asked his business, when he told him how it happened that he had come. He met with great welcome, and he stayed there a month without knowing that he had been there three days, and when he was going to leave, he was led out to his beloved by the inhabitants of the lake bottom. He asserted that the whole way was level except in one place, where they descended about a fathom into the ground; but, he added, it was necessary to ascend about as much to reach the hearth-stone of Dôl y Clochyđ. The most wonderful thing, however, was that the stone lifted itself as he came up from the subterranean road towards it. It was thus the sweetheart arrived there one evening, when the girl was by the fire weeping for him. Siwsi had been out some days before, and she knew all about it though she said nothing to anybody. This, then, was the way in which the depth of Ỻyn Cynnwch came to be known.’Then he has a few sentences about an old house called Ceimarch:—‘Ceimarch was an old mansion of considerable repute, and in old times it was considered next to Nannau in point of importance in the whole district. There was a deep ditch round it, which was always kept full of water, with the view of keeping off vagabonds and thieves, as well as other lawless folks, that they might not take the inmates by surprise. But, in distant ages, this place was very noted for the frequent visits paid it by the fair family. They used to come to the ditch to wash themselves, and to cross the waterin boats made of the bark of the rowan-tree15, or else birch, and they came into the house to pay their rent for trampling the ground around the place. They always placed a piece of money under a pitcher, and the result was that the family living there became remarkably rich. But somehow, after the lapse of many years, the owner of the place offended them, by showing disrespect for their diminutive family: soon the world began to go against him, and it was not long before he got low in life. Everything turned against him, and in times past everybody believed that he incurred all this because he had earned the displeasure of the fair family.’In theBrythonfor the year 1862, p. 456, in the course of an essay on the history of the Lordship of Mawđwy in Merioneth, considered the best in a competition at an Eisteđfod held at Dinas Mawđwy, August 2, 1855, Glasynys gives the following bit about the fairies of that neighbourhood:—‘The side of Aran Fawđwy is a great place for the fair family: they are ever at it playing their games on the hillsides about this spot. It is said that they are numberless likewise about Bwlch y Groes. Once a boy crossed over near the approach of night, one summer eve, from the Gadfa to Mawđwy, and on his return he saw near Aber Rhiwlech a swarm of the little family dancing away full pelt. The boy began to run, with two of the maidens in pursuit of him, entreating him to stay; but Robin, for that was his name, kept running, and the two elves failed altogether to catch him, otherwise he would have been taken a prisoner of love. There are plenty of their dancing-rings to be seen on the hillsides between Aber Rhiwlech and Bwlch y Groes.’Here I would introduce two other Merionethshire tales, which I have received from Mr. E. S. Roberts, master of the Ỻandysilio School, near Ỻangoỻen. He has learnt them from one Abel Evans, who lives at present in the parish of Ỻandysilio: he is a native of the parish of Ỻandriỻo on the slopes of the Berwyn, and of a glen in the same, known as Cwm Pennant, so called from its being drained by the Pennant on its way to join the Dee. Now Cwm Pennant was the resort of fairies, or of a certain family of them, and the occurrence, related in the following tale, must have taken place no less than seventy years ago: it was well known to the late Mrs. Ellen Edwards of Ỻandriỻo:—Ryw điwrnod aeth dau gyfaiỻ i hela dwfrgwn ar hyd lannau afon Pennant, a thra yn cyfeirio eu camrau tuagat yr afon gwelsant ryw greadur bychan ỻiwgoch yn rhedeg yn gyflym iawn ar draws un o’r dolyđ yn nghyfeiriad yr afon. Ymaeth a nhw ar ei ol. Gwelsant ei fod wedi myned ođitan wraiđ coeden yn ochr yr afon i ymguđio. Yr oeđ y đau đyn yn međwl mae dwfrgi ydoeđ, ond ar yr un pryd yn methu a deaỻ paham yr ymđanghosai i’w ỻygaid yn ỻiwgoch. Yr oeđynt yn dymuno ei đal yn fyw, ac ymaith yr aeth un o honynt i ffarmdy gerỻaw i ofyn am sach, yr hon a gafwyd, er mwyn rhoi y creadur ynđi. Yr oeđ yno đau dwỻ o tan wraiđ y pren, a thra daliai un y sach yn agored ar un twỻ yr oeđ y ỻaỻ yn hwthio ffon i’r twỻ araỻ, ac yn y man aeth y creadur i’r sach. Yr oeđ y đau đyn yn međwl eu bod wedi dal dwfrgi, yr hyn a ystyrient yn orchest nid bychan. Cychwynasant gartref yn ỻawen ond cyn eu myned hyd ỻed cae, ỻefarođ ỻetywr y sach mewn ton drist gan đywedyd—‘Y mae fy mam yn galw am danaf, O, mae fy mam yn galw am danaf,’ yr hyn a rođođ fraw mawr i’r đau heliwr, ac yn y man taflasanty sach i lawr, a mawr oeđ eu rhyfeđod a’u dychryn pan welsant đyn bach mewn gwisg goch yn rhedeg o’r sach tuagat yr afon. Fe a điflannođ o’i golwg yn mysg y drysni ar fin yr afon. Yr oeđ y đau wedi eu brawychu yn đirfawr ac yn teimlo mae doethach oeđ myned gartref yn hytrach nag ymyrraeth yn mheỻach a’r Tylwyth Teg.‘One day, two friends went to hunt otters on the banks of the Pennant, and when they were directing their steps towards the river, they beheld some small creature of a red colour running fast across the meadows in the direction of the river. Off they ran after it, and saw that it went beneath the roots of a tree on the brink of the river to hide itself. The two men thought it was an otter, but, at the same time, they could not understand why it seemed to them to be of a red colour. They wished to take it alive, and off one of them went to a farm house that was not far away to ask for a sack, which he got, to put the creature into it. Now there were two holes under the roots of the tree, and while one held the sack with its mouth open over one of them, the other pushed his stick into the other hole, and presently the creature went into the sack. The two men thought they had caught an otter, which they looked upon as no small feat. They set out for home, but before they had proceeded the width of one field, the inmate of the sack spoke to them in a sad voice, and said, “My mother is calling for me; oh, my mother is calling for me!” This gave the two hunters a great fright, so that they at once threw down the sack; and great was their surprise to see a little man in a red dress running out of the sack towards the river. He disappeared from their sight in the bushes by the river. The two men were greatly terrified, and felt that it was more prudent to go home than meddle any further with the fair family.’ So far as I know,this story stands alone in Welsh folklore; but it has an exact parallel in Lancashire16.The other story, which I now reproduce, was obtained by Mr. Roberts from the same Abel Evans. He learnt it from Mrs. Ellen Edwards, and it refers to a point in her lifetime, which Abel Evans fixes at ninety years ago. Mr. Roberts has not succeeded in recovering the name of the cottager of whom it speaks; but he lived on the side of the Berwyn, above Cwm Pennant, where till lately a cottage used to stand, near which the fairies had one of their resorts:—Yr oeđ perchen y bwthyn wedi amaethu rhyw ran fychan o’r mynyđ ger ỻaw y ty er mwyn plannu pytatws ynđo. Feỻy y gwnaeth. Mewn coeden yn agos i’r fan canfyđođ nyth bran. Fe feđyliođ mae doeth fuasai iđo đryỻio y nyth cyn amlhau o’r brain. Fe a esgynnođ y goeden ac a đryỻiođ y nyth, ac wedi disgyn i lawr canfyđođ gylch glas(fairy ring)ođiamgylch y pren, ac ar y cylch fe welođ hanner coron er ei fawr lawenyđ. Wrth fyned heibio yr un fan y boreu canlynol fe gafođ hanner coron yn yr un man ag y cafođ y dyđ o’r blaen. Hynna fu am amryw đyđiau. Un diwrnod dywedođ wrth gyfaiỻ am ei hap đa a đangosođ y fan a’r ỻe y cawsai yr hanner coron bob boreu. Wel y boreu canlynol nid oeđ yno na hanner coron na dim araỻ iđo, oherwyđ yr oeđ wedi torri rheolau y Tylwythion trwy wneud eu haelioni yn hysbys. Y mae y Tylwythion o’r farn na đylai y ỻaw aswy wybod yr hyn a wna y ỻaw đehau.‘The occupier of the cottage had tilled a small portion of the mountain side near his home in order to plant potatoes, which he did. He observed that there was a rook’s nest on a tree which was not far from this spot, and it struck him that it would be prudent to breakthe nest before the rooks multiplied. So he climbed the tree and broke the nest, and, after coming down, he noticed a green circle (a fairy ring) round the tree, and on this circle he espied, to his great joy, half a crown. As he went by the same spot the following morning, he found another half a crown in the same place as before. So it happened for several days; but one day he told a friend of his good luck, and showed him the spot where he found half a crown every morning. Now the next morning there was for him neither half a crown nor anything else, because he had broken the rule of the fair folks by making their liberality known, they being of opinion that the left hand should not know what the right hand does.’So runs this short tale, which the old lady, Mrs. Edwards, and the people of the neighbourhood explained as an instance of the gratitude of the fairies to a man who had rendered them a service, which in this case was supposed to have consisted in ridding them of the rooks, that disturbed their merry-makings in the green ring beneath the branches of the tree.
VI.The parish of Ỻanfachreth and its traditions have been the subject of some contributions to the first volume of theTaliesinpublished at Ruthin in 1859–60, pp. 132–7, by a writer who calls himselfCofiadur. It was Glasynys, I believe, for the style seems to be his: he pretends to copy from an old manuscript of Hugh Bifan’s—both the manuscript and its owner were fictions of Glasynys’ as I am told. These jottings contain two or three items about the fairies which seem to be genuine:—‘The bottom of Ỻyn Cynnwch, on the Nannau estate, is level with the hearth-stone of the house of Dôl y Clochyđ. Its depth was found out owing to the sweetheart of one of Siwsi’s girls having lost his way to her from Nannau, where he was a servant. Thepoor man had fallen into the lake, and gone down and down, when he found it becoming clearer the lower he got, until at last he alighted on a level spot where everybody and everything looked much as he had observed on the dry land. When he had reached the bottom of the lake, a short fat old gentleman came to him and asked his business, when he told him how it happened that he had come. He met with great welcome, and he stayed there a month without knowing that he had been there three days, and when he was going to leave, he was led out to his beloved by the inhabitants of the lake bottom. He asserted that the whole way was level except in one place, where they descended about a fathom into the ground; but, he added, it was necessary to ascend about as much to reach the hearth-stone of Dôl y Clochyđ. The most wonderful thing, however, was that the stone lifted itself as he came up from the subterranean road towards it. It was thus the sweetheart arrived there one evening, when the girl was by the fire weeping for him. Siwsi had been out some days before, and she knew all about it though she said nothing to anybody. This, then, was the way in which the depth of Ỻyn Cynnwch came to be known.’Then he has a few sentences about an old house called Ceimarch:—‘Ceimarch was an old mansion of considerable repute, and in old times it was considered next to Nannau in point of importance in the whole district. There was a deep ditch round it, which was always kept full of water, with the view of keeping off vagabonds and thieves, as well as other lawless folks, that they might not take the inmates by surprise. But, in distant ages, this place was very noted for the frequent visits paid it by the fair family. They used to come to the ditch to wash themselves, and to cross the waterin boats made of the bark of the rowan-tree15, or else birch, and they came into the house to pay their rent for trampling the ground around the place. They always placed a piece of money under a pitcher, and the result was that the family living there became remarkably rich. But somehow, after the lapse of many years, the owner of the place offended them, by showing disrespect for their diminutive family: soon the world began to go against him, and it was not long before he got low in life. Everything turned against him, and in times past everybody believed that he incurred all this because he had earned the displeasure of the fair family.’In theBrythonfor the year 1862, p. 456, in the course of an essay on the history of the Lordship of Mawđwy in Merioneth, considered the best in a competition at an Eisteđfod held at Dinas Mawđwy, August 2, 1855, Glasynys gives the following bit about the fairies of that neighbourhood:—‘The side of Aran Fawđwy is a great place for the fair family: they are ever at it playing their games on the hillsides about this spot. It is said that they are numberless likewise about Bwlch y Groes. Once a boy crossed over near the approach of night, one summer eve, from the Gadfa to Mawđwy, and on his return he saw near Aber Rhiwlech a swarm of the little family dancing away full pelt. The boy began to run, with two of the maidens in pursuit of him, entreating him to stay; but Robin, for that was his name, kept running, and the two elves failed altogether to catch him, otherwise he would have been taken a prisoner of love. There are plenty of their dancing-rings to be seen on the hillsides between Aber Rhiwlech and Bwlch y Groes.’Here I would introduce two other Merionethshire tales, which I have received from Mr. E. S. Roberts, master of the Ỻandysilio School, near Ỻangoỻen. He has learnt them from one Abel Evans, who lives at present in the parish of Ỻandysilio: he is a native of the parish of Ỻandriỻo on the slopes of the Berwyn, and of a glen in the same, known as Cwm Pennant, so called from its being drained by the Pennant on its way to join the Dee. Now Cwm Pennant was the resort of fairies, or of a certain family of them, and the occurrence, related in the following tale, must have taken place no less than seventy years ago: it was well known to the late Mrs. Ellen Edwards of Ỻandriỻo:—Ryw điwrnod aeth dau gyfaiỻ i hela dwfrgwn ar hyd lannau afon Pennant, a thra yn cyfeirio eu camrau tuagat yr afon gwelsant ryw greadur bychan ỻiwgoch yn rhedeg yn gyflym iawn ar draws un o’r dolyđ yn nghyfeiriad yr afon. Ymaeth a nhw ar ei ol. Gwelsant ei fod wedi myned ođitan wraiđ coeden yn ochr yr afon i ymguđio. Yr oeđ y đau đyn yn međwl mae dwfrgi ydoeđ, ond ar yr un pryd yn methu a deaỻ paham yr ymđanghosai i’w ỻygaid yn ỻiwgoch. Yr oeđynt yn dymuno ei đal yn fyw, ac ymaith yr aeth un o honynt i ffarmdy gerỻaw i ofyn am sach, yr hon a gafwyd, er mwyn rhoi y creadur ynđi. Yr oeđ yno đau dwỻ o tan wraiđ y pren, a thra daliai un y sach yn agored ar un twỻ yr oeđ y ỻaỻ yn hwthio ffon i’r twỻ araỻ, ac yn y man aeth y creadur i’r sach. Yr oeđ y đau đyn yn međwl eu bod wedi dal dwfrgi, yr hyn a ystyrient yn orchest nid bychan. Cychwynasant gartref yn ỻawen ond cyn eu myned hyd ỻed cae, ỻefarođ ỻetywr y sach mewn ton drist gan đywedyd—‘Y mae fy mam yn galw am danaf, O, mae fy mam yn galw am danaf,’ yr hyn a rođođ fraw mawr i’r đau heliwr, ac yn y man taflasanty sach i lawr, a mawr oeđ eu rhyfeđod a’u dychryn pan welsant đyn bach mewn gwisg goch yn rhedeg o’r sach tuagat yr afon. Fe a điflannođ o’i golwg yn mysg y drysni ar fin yr afon. Yr oeđ y đau wedi eu brawychu yn đirfawr ac yn teimlo mae doethach oeđ myned gartref yn hytrach nag ymyrraeth yn mheỻach a’r Tylwyth Teg.‘One day, two friends went to hunt otters on the banks of the Pennant, and when they were directing their steps towards the river, they beheld some small creature of a red colour running fast across the meadows in the direction of the river. Off they ran after it, and saw that it went beneath the roots of a tree on the brink of the river to hide itself. The two men thought it was an otter, but, at the same time, they could not understand why it seemed to them to be of a red colour. They wished to take it alive, and off one of them went to a farm house that was not far away to ask for a sack, which he got, to put the creature into it. Now there were two holes under the roots of the tree, and while one held the sack with its mouth open over one of them, the other pushed his stick into the other hole, and presently the creature went into the sack. The two men thought they had caught an otter, which they looked upon as no small feat. They set out for home, but before they had proceeded the width of one field, the inmate of the sack spoke to them in a sad voice, and said, “My mother is calling for me; oh, my mother is calling for me!” This gave the two hunters a great fright, so that they at once threw down the sack; and great was their surprise to see a little man in a red dress running out of the sack towards the river. He disappeared from their sight in the bushes by the river. The two men were greatly terrified, and felt that it was more prudent to go home than meddle any further with the fair family.’ So far as I know,this story stands alone in Welsh folklore; but it has an exact parallel in Lancashire16.The other story, which I now reproduce, was obtained by Mr. Roberts from the same Abel Evans. He learnt it from Mrs. Ellen Edwards, and it refers to a point in her lifetime, which Abel Evans fixes at ninety years ago. Mr. Roberts has not succeeded in recovering the name of the cottager of whom it speaks; but he lived on the side of the Berwyn, above Cwm Pennant, where till lately a cottage used to stand, near which the fairies had one of their resorts:—Yr oeđ perchen y bwthyn wedi amaethu rhyw ran fychan o’r mynyđ ger ỻaw y ty er mwyn plannu pytatws ynđo. Feỻy y gwnaeth. Mewn coeden yn agos i’r fan canfyđođ nyth bran. Fe feđyliođ mae doeth fuasai iđo đryỻio y nyth cyn amlhau o’r brain. Fe a esgynnođ y goeden ac a đryỻiođ y nyth, ac wedi disgyn i lawr canfyđođ gylch glas(fairy ring)ođiamgylch y pren, ac ar y cylch fe welođ hanner coron er ei fawr lawenyđ. Wrth fyned heibio yr un fan y boreu canlynol fe gafođ hanner coron yn yr un man ag y cafođ y dyđ o’r blaen. Hynna fu am amryw đyđiau. Un diwrnod dywedođ wrth gyfaiỻ am ei hap đa a đangosođ y fan a’r ỻe y cawsai yr hanner coron bob boreu. Wel y boreu canlynol nid oeđ yno na hanner coron na dim araỻ iđo, oherwyđ yr oeđ wedi torri rheolau y Tylwythion trwy wneud eu haelioni yn hysbys. Y mae y Tylwythion o’r farn na đylai y ỻaw aswy wybod yr hyn a wna y ỻaw đehau.‘The occupier of the cottage had tilled a small portion of the mountain side near his home in order to plant potatoes, which he did. He observed that there was a rook’s nest on a tree which was not far from this spot, and it struck him that it would be prudent to breakthe nest before the rooks multiplied. So he climbed the tree and broke the nest, and, after coming down, he noticed a green circle (a fairy ring) round the tree, and on this circle he espied, to his great joy, half a crown. As he went by the same spot the following morning, he found another half a crown in the same place as before. So it happened for several days; but one day he told a friend of his good luck, and showed him the spot where he found half a crown every morning. Now the next morning there was for him neither half a crown nor anything else, because he had broken the rule of the fair folks by making their liberality known, they being of opinion that the left hand should not know what the right hand does.’So runs this short tale, which the old lady, Mrs. Edwards, and the people of the neighbourhood explained as an instance of the gratitude of the fairies to a man who had rendered them a service, which in this case was supposed to have consisted in ridding them of the rooks, that disturbed their merry-makings in the green ring beneath the branches of the tree.
VI.The parish of Ỻanfachreth and its traditions have been the subject of some contributions to the first volume of theTaliesinpublished at Ruthin in 1859–60, pp. 132–7, by a writer who calls himselfCofiadur. It was Glasynys, I believe, for the style seems to be his: he pretends to copy from an old manuscript of Hugh Bifan’s—both the manuscript and its owner were fictions of Glasynys’ as I am told. These jottings contain two or three items about the fairies which seem to be genuine:—‘The bottom of Ỻyn Cynnwch, on the Nannau estate, is level with the hearth-stone of the house of Dôl y Clochyđ. Its depth was found out owing to the sweetheart of one of Siwsi’s girls having lost his way to her from Nannau, where he was a servant. Thepoor man had fallen into the lake, and gone down and down, when he found it becoming clearer the lower he got, until at last he alighted on a level spot where everybody and everything looked much as he had observed on the dry land. When he had reached the bottom of the lake, a short fat old gentleman came to him and asked his business, when he told him how it happened that he had come. He met with great welcome, and he stayed there a month without knowing that he had been there three days, and when he was going to leave, he was led out to his beloved by the inhabitants of the lake bottom. He asserted that the whole way was level except in one place, where they descended about a fathom into the ground; but, he added, it was necessary to ascend about as much to reach the hearth-stone of Dôl y Clochyđ. The most wonderful thing, however, was that the stone lifted itself as he came up from the subterranean road towards it. It was thus the sweetheart arrived there one evening, when the girl was by the fire weeping for him. Siwsi had been out some days before, and she knew all about it though she said nothing to anybody. This, then, was the way in which the depth of Ỻyn Cynnwch came to be known.’Then he has a few sentences about an old house called Ceimarch:—‘Ceimarch was an old mansion of considerable repute, and in old times it was considered next to Nannau in point of importance in the whole district. There was a deep ditch round it, which was always kept full of water, with the view of keeping off vagabonds and thieves, as well as other lawless folks, that they might not take the inmates by surprise. But, in distant ages, this place was very noted for the frequent visits paid it by the fair family. They used to come to the ditch to wash themselves, and to cross the waterin boats made of the bark of the rowan-tree15, or else birch, and they came into the house to pay their rent for trampling the ground around the place. They always placed a piece of money under a pitcher, and the result was that the family living there became remarkably rich. But somehow, after the lapse of many years, the owner of the place offended them, by showing disrespect for their diminutive family: soon the world began to go against him, and it was not long before he got low in life. Everything turned against him, and in times past everybody believed that he incurred all this because he had earned the displeasure of the fair family.’In theBrythonfor the year 1862, p. 456, in the course of an essay on the history of the Lordship of Mawđwy in Merioneth, considered the best in a competition at an Eisteđfod held at Dinas Mawđwy, August 2, 1855, Glasynys gives the following bit about the fairies of that neighbourhood:—‘The side of Aran Fawđwy is a great place for the fair family: they are ever at it playing their games on the hillsides about this spot. It is said that they are numberless likewise about Bwlch y Groes. Once a boy crossed over near the approach of night, one summer eve, from the Gadfa to Mawđwy, and on his return he saw near Aber Rhiwlech a swarm of the little family dancing away full pelt. The boy began to run, with two of the maidens in pursuit of him, entreating him to stay; but Robin, for that was his name, kept running, and the two elves failed altogether to catch him, otherwise he would have been taken a prisoner of love. There are plenty of their dancing-rings to be seen on the hillsides between Aber Rhiwlech and Bwlch y Groes.’Here I would introduce two other Merionethshire tales, which I have received from Mr. E. S. Roberts, master of the Ỻandysilio School, near Ỻangoỻen. He has learnt them from one Abel Evans, who lives at present in the parish of Ỻandysilio: he is a native of the parish of Ỻandriỻo on the slopes of the Berwyn, and of a glen in the same, known as Cwm Pennant, so called from its being drained by the Pennant on its way to join the Dee. Now Cwm Pennant was the resort of fairies, or of a certain family of them, and the occurrence, related in the following tale, must have taken place no less than seventy years ago: it was well known to the late Mrs. Ellen Edwards of Ỻandriỻo:—Ryw điwrnod aeth dau gyfaiỻ i hela dwfrgwn ar hyd lannau afon Pennant, a thra yn cyfeirio eu camrau tuagat yr afon gwelsant ryw greadur bychan ỻiwgoch yn rhedeg yn gyflym iawn ar draws un o’r dolyđ yn nghyfeiriad yr afon. Ymaeth a nhw ar ei ol. Gwelsant ei fod wedi myned ođitan wraiđ coeden yn ochr yr afon i ymguđio. Yr oeđ y đau đyn yn međwl mae dwfrgi ydoeđ, ond ar yr un pryd yn methu a deaỻ paham yr ymđanghosai i’w ỻygaid yn ỻiwgoch. Yr oeđynt yn dymuno ei đal yn fyw, ac ymaith yr aeth un o honynt i ffarmdy gerỻaw i ofyn am sach, yr hon a gafwyd, er mwyn rhoi y creadur ynđi. Yr oeđ yno đau dwỻ o tan wraiđ y pren, a thra daliai un y sach yn agored ar un twỻ yr oeđ y ỻaỻ yn hwthio ffon i’r twỻ araỻ, ac yn y man aeth y creadur i’r sach. Yr oeđ y đau đyn yn međwl eu bod wedi dal dwfrgi, yr hyn a ystyrient yn orchest nid bychan. Cychwynasant gartref yn ỻawen ond cyn eu myned hyd ỻed cae, ỻefarođ ỻetywr y sach mewn ton drist gan đywedyd—‘Y mae fy mam yn galw am danaf, O, mae fy mam yn galw am danaf,’ yr hyn a rođođ fraw mawr i’r đau heliwr, ac yn y man taflasanty sach i lawr, a mawr oeđ eu rhyfeđod a’u dychryn pan welsant đyn bach mewn gwisg goch yn rhedeg o’r sach tuagat yr afon. Fe a điflannođ o’i golwg yn mysg y drysni ar fin yr afon. Yr oeđ y đau wedi eu brawychu yn đirfawr ac yn teimlo mae doethach oeđ myned gartref yn hytrach nag ymyrraeth yn mheỻach a’r Tylwyth Teg.‘One day, two friends went to hunt otters on the banks of the Pennant, and when they were directing their steps towards the river, they beheld some small creature of a red colour running fast across the meadows in the direction of the river. Off they ran after it, and saw that it went beneath the roots of a tree on the brink of the river to hide itself. The two men thought it was an otter, but, at the same time, they could not understand why it seemed to them to be of a red colour. They wished to take it alive, and off one of them went to a farm house that was not far away to ask for a sack, which he got, to put the creature into it. Now there were two holes under the roots of the tree, and while one held the sack with its mouth open over one of them, the other pushed his stick into the other hole, and presently the creature went into the sack. The two men thought they had caught an otter, which they looked upon as no small feat. They set out for home, but before they had proceeded the width of one field, the inmate of the sack spoke to them in a sad voice, and said, “My mother is calling for me; oh, my mother is calling for me!” This gave the two hunters a great fright, so that they at once threw down the sack; and great was their surprise to see a little man in a red dress running out of the sack towards the river. He disappeared from their sight in the bushes by the river. The two men were greatly terrified, and felt that it was more prudent to go home than meddle any further with the fair family.’ So far as I know,this story stands alone in Welsh folklore; but it has an exact parallel in Lancashire16.The other story, which I now reproduce, was obtained by Mr. Roberts from the same Abel Evans. He learnt it from Mrs. Ellen Edwards, and it refers to a point in her lifetime, which Abel Evans fixes at ninety years ago. Mr. Roberts has not succeeded in recovering the name of the cottager of whom it speaks; but he lived on the side of the Berwyn, above Cwm Pennant, where till lately a cottage used to stand, near which the fairies had one of their resorts:—Yr oeđ perchen y bwthyn wedi amaethu rhyw ran fychan o’r mynyđ ger ỻaw y ty er mwyn plannu pytatws ynđo. Feỻy y gwnaeth. Mewn coeden yn agos i’r fan canfyđođ nyth bran. Fe feđyliođ mae doeth fuasai iđo đryỻio y nyth cyn amlhau o’r brain. Fe a esgynnođ y goeden ac a đryỻiođ y nyth, ac wedi disgyn i lawr canfyđođ gylch glas(fairy ring)ođiamgylch y pren, ac ar y cylch fe welođ hanner coron er ei fawr lawenyđ. Wrth fyned heibio yr un fan y boreu canlynol fe gafođ hanner coron yn yr un man ag y cafođ y dyđ o’r blaen. Hynna fu am amryw đyđiau. Un diwrnod dywedođ wrth gyfaiỻ am ei hap đa a đangosođ y fan a’r ỻe y cawsai yr hanner coron bob boreu. Wel y boreu canlynol nid oeđ yno na hanner coron na dim araỻ iđo, oherwyđ yr oeđ wedi torri rheolau y Tylwythion trwy wneud eu haelioni yn hysbys. Y mae y Tylwythion o’r farn na đylai y ỻaw aswy wybod yr hyn a wna y ỻaw đehau.‘The occupier of the cottage had tilled a small portion of the mountain side near his home in order to plant potatoes, which he did. He observed that there was a rook’s nest on a tree which was not far from this spot, and it struck him that it would be prudent to breakthe nest before the rooks multiplied. So he climbed the tree and broke the nest, and, after coming down, he noticed a green circle (a fairy ring) round the tree, and on this circle he espied, to his great joy, half a crown. As he went by the same spot the following morning, he found another half a crown in the same place as before. So it happened for several days; but one day he told a friend of his good luck, and showed him the spot where he found half a crown every morning. Now the next morning there was for him neither half a crown nor anything else, because he had broken the rule of the fair folks by making their liberality known, they being of opinion that the left hand should not know what the right hand does.’So runs this short tale, which the old lady, Mrs. Edwards, and the people of the neighbourhood explained as an instance of the gratitude of the fairies to a man who had rendered them a service, which in this case was supposed to have consisted in ridding them of the rooks, that disturbed their merry-makings in the green ring beneath the branches of the tree.
VI.
The parish of Ỻanfachreth and its traditions have been the subject of some contributions to the first volume of theTaliesinpublished at Ruthin in 1859–60, pp. 132–7, by a writer who calls himselfCofiadur. It was Glasynys, I believe, for the style seems to be his: he pretends to copy from an old manuscript of Hugh Bifan’s—both the manuscript and its owner were fictions of Glasynys’ as I am told. These jottings contain two or three items about the fairies which seem to be genuine:—‘The bottom of Ỻyn Cynnwch, on the Nannau estate, is level with the hearth-stone of the house of Dôl y Clochyđ. Its depth was found out owing to the sweetheart of one of Siwsi’s girls having lost his way to her from Nannau, where he was a servant. Thepoor man had fallen into the lake, and gone down and down, when he found it becoming clearer the lower he got, until at last he alighted on a level spot where everybody and everything looked much as he had observed on the dry land. When he had reached the bottom of the lake, a short fat old gentleman came to him and asked his business, when he told him how it happened that he had come. He met with great welcome, and he stayed there a month without knowing that he had been there three days, and when he was going to leave, he was led out to his beloved by the inhabitants of the lake bottom. He asserted that the whole way was level except in one place, where they descended about a fathom into the ground; but, he added, it was necessary to ascend about as much to reach the hearth-stone of Dôl y Clochyđ. The most wonderful thing, however, was that the stone lifted itself as he came up from the subterranean road towards it. It was thus the sweetheart arrived there one evening, when the girl was by the fire weeping for him. Siwsi had been out some days before, and she knew all about it though she said nothing to anybody. This, then, was the way in which the depth of Ỻyn Cynnwch came to be known.’Then he has a few sentences about an old house called Ceimarch:—‘Ceimarch was an old mansion of considerable repute, and in old times it was considered next to Nannau in point of importance in the whole district. There was a deep ditch round it, which was always kept full of water, with the view of keeping off vagabonds and thieves, as well as other lawless folks, that they might not take the inmates by surprise. But, in distant ages, this place was very noted for the frequent visits paid it by the fair family. They used to come to the ditch to wash themselves, and to cross the waterin boats made of the bark of the rowan-tree15, or else birch, and they came into the house to pay their rent for trampling the ground around the place. They always placed a piece of money under a pitcher, and the result was that the family living there became remarkably rich. But somehow, after the lapse of many years, the owner of the place offended them, by showing disrespect for their diminutive family: soon the world began to go against him, and it was not long before he got low in life. Everything turned against him, and in times past everybody believed that he incurred all this because he had earned the displeasure of the fair family.’In theBrythonfor the year 1862, p. 456, in the course of an essay on the history of the Lordship of Mawđwy in Merioneth, considered the best in a competition at an Eisteđfod held at Dinas Mawđwy, August 2, 1855, Glasynys gives the following bit about the fairies of that neighbourhood:—‘The side of Aran Fawđwy is a great place for the fair family: they are ever at it playing their games on the hillsides about this spot. It is said that they are numberless likewise about Bwlch y Groes. Once a boy crossed over near the approach of night, one summer eve, from the Gadfa to Mawđwy, and on his return he saw near Aber Rhiwlech a swarm of the little family dancing away full pelt. The boy began to run, with two of the maidens in pursuit of him, entreating him to stay; but Robin, for that was his name, kept running, and the two elves failed altogether to catch him, otherwise he would have been taken a prisoner of love. There are plenty of their dancing-rings to be seen on the hillsides between Aber Rhiwlech and Bwlch y Groes.’Here I would introduce two other Merionethshire tales, which I have received from Mr. E. S. Roberts, master of the Ỻandysilio School, near Ỻangoỻen. He has learnt them from one Abel Evans, who lives at present in the parish of Ỻandysilio: he is a native of the parish of Ỻandriỻo on the slopes of the Berwyn, and of a glen in the same, known as Cwm Pennant, so called from its being drained by the Pennant on its way to join the Dee. Now Cwm Pennant was the resort of fairies, or of a certain family of them, and the occurrence, related in the following tale, must have taken place no less than seventy years ago: it was well known to the late Mrs. Ellen Edwards of Ỻandriỻo:—Ryw điwrnod aeth dau gyfaiỻ i hela dwfrgwn ar hyd lannau afon Pennant, a thra yn cyfeirio eu camrau tuagat yr afon gwelsant ryw greadur bychan ỻiwgoch yn rhedeg yn gyflym iawn ar draws un o’r dolyđ yn nghyfeiriad yr afon. Ymaeth a nhw ar ei ol. Gwelsant ei fod wedi myned ođitan wraiđ coeden yn ochr yr afon i ymguđio. Yr oeđ y đau đyn yn međwl mae dwfrgi ydoeđ, ond ar yr un pryd yn methu a deaỻ paham yr ymđanghosai i’w ỻygaid yn ỻiwgoch. Yr oeđynt yn dymuno ei đal yn fyw, ac ymaith yr aeth un o honynt i ffarmdy gerỻaw i ofyn am sach, yr hon a gafwyd, er mwyn rhoi y creadur ynđi. Yr oeđ yno đau dwỻ o tan wraiđ y pren, a thra daliai un y sach yn agored ar un twỻ yr oeđ y ỻaỻ yn hwthio ffon i’r twỻ araỻ, ac yn y man aeth y creadur i’r sach. Yr oeđ y đau đyn yn međwl eu bod wedi dal dwfrgi, yr hyn a ystyrient yn orchest nid bychan. Cychwynasant gartref yn ỻawen ond cyn eu myned hyd ỻed cae, ỻefarođ ỻetywr y sach mewn ton drist gan đywedyd—‘Y mae fy mam yn galw am danaf, O, mae fy mam yn galw am danaf,’ yr hyn a rođođ fraw mawr i’r đau heliwr, ac yn y man taflasanty sach i lawr, a mawr oeđ eu rhyfeđod a’u dychryn pan welsant đyn bach mewn gwisg goch yn rhedeg o’r sach tuagat yr afon. Fe a điflannođ o’i golwg yn mysg y drysni ar fin yr afon. Yr oeđ y đau wedi eu brawychu yn đirfawr ac yn teimlo mae doethach oeđ myned gartref yn hytrach nag ymyrraeth yn mheỻach a’r Tylwyth Teg.‘One day, two friends went to hunt otters on the banks of the Pennant, and when they were directing their steps towards the river, they beheld some small creature of a red colour running fast across the meadows in the direction of the river. Off they ran after it, and saw that it went beneath the roots of a tree on the brink of the river to hide itself. The two men thought it was an otter, but, at the same time, they could not understand why it seemed to them to be of a red colour. They wished to take it alive, and off one of them went to a farm house that was not far away to ask for a sack, which he got, to put the creature into it. Now there were two holes under the roots of the tree, and while one held the sack with its mouth open over one of them, the other pushed his stick into the other hole, and presently the creature went into the sack. The two men thought they had caught an otter, which they looked upon as no small feat. They set out for home, but before they had proceeded the width of one field, the inmate of the sack spoke to them in a sad voice, and said, “My mother is calling for me; oh, my mother is calling for me!” This gave the two hunters a great fright, so that they at once threw down the sack; and great was their surprise to see a little man in a red dress running out of the sack towards the river. He disappeared from their sight in the bushes by the river. The two men were greatly terrified, and felt that it was more prudent to go home than meddle any further with the fair family.’ So far as I know,this story stands alone in Welsh folklore; but it has an exact parallel in Lancashire16.The other story, which I now reproduce, was obtained by Mr. Roberts from the same Abel Evans. He learnt it from Mrs. Ellen Edwards, and it refers to a point in her lifetime, which Abel Evans fixes at ninety years ago. Mr. Roberts has not succeeded in recovering the name of the cottager of whom it speaks; but he lived on the side of the Berwyn, above Cwm Pennant, where till lately a cottage used to stand, near which the fairies had one of their resorts:—Yr oeđ perchen y bwthyn wedi amaethu rhyw ran fychan o’r mynyđ ger ỻaw y ty er mwyn plannu pytatws ynđo. Feỻy y gwnaeth. Mewn coeden yn agos i’r fan canfyđođ nyth bran. Fe feđyliođ mae doeth fuasai iđo đryỻio y nyth cyn amlhau o’r brain. Fe a esgynnođ y goeden ac a đryỻiođ y nyth, ac wedi disgyn i lawr canfyđođ gylch glas(fairy ring)ođiamgylch y pren, ac ar y cylch fe welođ hanner coron er ei fawr lawenyđ. Wrth fyned heibio yr un fan y boreu canlynol fe gafođ hanner coron yn yr un man ag y cafođ y dyđ o’r blaen. Hynna fu am amryw đyđiau. Un diwrnod dywedođ wrth gyfaiỻ am ei hap đa a đangosođ y fan a’r ỻe y cawsai yr hanner coron bob boreu. Wel y boreu canlynol nid oeđ yno na hanner coron na dim araỻ iđo, oherwyđ yr oeđ wedi torri rheolau y Tylwythion trwy wneud eu haelioni yn hysbys. Y mae y Tylwythion o’r farn na đylai y ỻaw aswy wybod yr hyn a wna y ỻaw đehau.‘The occupier of the cottage had tilled a small portion of the mountain side near his home in order to plant potatoes, which he did. He observed that there was a rook’s nest on a tree which was not far from this spot, and it struck him that it would be prudent to breakthe nest before the rooks multiplied. So he climbed the tree and broke the nest, and, after coming down, he noticed a green circle (a fairy ring) round the tree, and on this circle he espied, to his great joy, half a crown. As he went by the same spot the following morning, he found another half a crown in the same place as before. So it happened for several days; but one day he told a friend of his good luck, and showed him the spot where he found half a crown every morning. Now the next morning there was for him neither half a crown nor anything else, because he had broken the rule of the fair folks by making their liberality known, they being of opinion that the left hand should not know what the right hand does.’So runs this short tale, which the old lady, Mrs. Edwards, and the people of the neighbourhood explained as an instance of the gratitude of the fairies to a man who had rendered them a service, which in this case was supposed to have consisted in ridding them of the rooks, that disturbed their merry-makings in the green ring beneath the branches of the tree.
The parish of Ỻanfachreth and its traditions have been the subject of some contributions to the first volume of theTaliesinpublished at Ruthin in 1859–60, pp. 132–7, by a writer who calls himselfCofiadur. It was Glasynys, I believe, for the style seems to be his: he pretends to copy from an old manuscript of Hugh Bifan’s—both the manuscript and its owner were fictions of Glasynys’ as I am told. These jottings contain two or three items about the fairies which seem to be genuine:—
‘The bottom of Ỻyn Cynnwch, on the Nannau estate, is level with the hearth-stone of the house of Dôl y Clochyđ. Its depth was found out owing to the sweetheart of one of Siwsi’s girls having lost his way to her from Nannau, where he was a servant. Thepoor man had fallen into the lake, and gone down and down, when he found it becoming clearer the lower he got, until at last he alighted on a level spot where everybody and everything looked much as he had observed on the dry land. When he had reached the bottom of the lake, a short fat old gentleman came to him and asked his business, when he told him how it happened that he had come. He met with great welcome, and he stayed there a month without knowing that he had been there three days, and when he was going to leave, he was led out to his beloved by the inhabitants of the lake bottom. He asserted that the whole way was level except in one place, where they descended about a fathom into the ground; but, he added, it was necessary to ascend about as much to reach the hearth-stone of Dôl y Clochyđ. The most wonderful thing, however, was that the stone lifted itself as he came up from the subterranean road towards it. It was thus the sweetheart arrived there one evening, when the girl was by the fire weeping for him. Siwsi had been out some days before, and she knew all about it though she said nothing to anybody. This, then, was the way in which the depth of Ỻyn Cynnwch came to be known.’
Then he has a few sentences about an old house called Ceimarch:—‘Ceimarch was an old mansion of considerable repute, and in old times it was considered next to Nannau in point of importance in the whole district. There was a deep ditch round it, which was always kept full of water, with the view of keeping off vagabonds and thieves, as well as other lawless folks, that they might not take the inmates by surprise. But, in distant ages, this place was very noted for the frequent visits paid it by the fair family. They used to come to the ditch to wash themselves, and to cross the waterin boats made of the bark of the rowan-tree15, or else birch, and they came into the house to pay their rent for trampling the ground around the place. They always placed a piece of money under a pitcher, and the result was that the family living there became remarkably rich. But somehow, after the lapse of many years, the owner of the place offended them, by showing disrespect for their diminutive family: soon the world began to go against him, and it was not long before he got low in life. Everything turned against him, and in times past everybody believed that he incurred all this because he had earned the displeasure of the fair family.’
In theBrythonfor the year 1862, p. 456, in the course of an essay on the history of the Lordship of Mawđwy in Merioneth, considered the best in a competition at an Eisteđfod held at Dinas Mawđwy, August 2, 1855, Glasynys gives the following bit about the fairies of that neighbourhood:—‘The side of Aran Fawđwy is a great place for the fair family: they are ever at it playing their games on the hillsides about this spot. It is said that they are numberless likewise about Bwlch y Groes. Once a boy crossed over near the approach of night, one summer eve, from the Gadfa to Mawđwy, and on his return he saw near Aber Rhiwlech a swarm of the little family dancing away full pelt. The boy began to run, with two of the maidens in pursuit of him, entreating him to stay; but Robin, for that was his name, kept running, and the two elves failed altogether to catch him, otherwise he would have been taken a prisoner of love. There are plenty of their dancing-rings to be seen on the hillsides between Aber Rhiwlech and Bwlch y Groes.’
Here I would introduce two other Merionethshire tales, which I have received from Mr. E. S. Roberts, master of the Ỻandysilio School, near Ỻangoỻen. He has learnt them from one Abel Evans, who lives at present in the parish of Ỻandysilio: he is a native of the parish of Ỻandriỻo on the slopes of the Berwyn, and of a glen in the same, known as Cwm Pennant, so called from its being drained by the Pennant on its way to join the Dee. Now Cwm Pennant was the resort of fairies, or of a certain family of them, and the occurrence, related in the following tale, must have taken place no less than seventy years ago: it was well known to the late Mrs. Ellen Edwards of Ỻandriỻo:—
Ryw điwrnod aeth dau gyfaiỻ i hela dwfrgwn ar hyd lannau afon Pennant, a thra yn cyfeirio eu camrau tuagat yr afon gwelsant ryw greadur bychan ỻiwgoch yn rhedeg yn gyflym iawn ar draws un o’r dolyđ yn nghyfeiriad yr afon. Ymaeth a nhw ar ei ol. Gwelsant ei fod wedi myned ođitan wraiđ coeden yn ochr yr afon i ymguđio. Yr oeđ y đau đyn yn međwl mae dwfrgi ydoeđ, ond ar yr un pryd yn methu a deaỻ paham yr ymđanghosai i’w ỻygaid yn ỻiwgoch. Yr oeđynt yn dymuno ei đal yn fyw, ac ymaith yr aeth un o honynt i ffarmdy gerỻaw i ofyn am sach, yr hon a gafwyd, er mwyn rhoi y creadur ynđi. Yr oeđ yno đau dwỻ o tan wraiđ y pren, a thra daliai un y sach yn agored ar un twỻ yr oeđ y ỻaỻ yn hwthio ffon i’r twỻ araỻ, ac yn y man aeth y creadur i’r sach. Yr oeđ y đau đyn yn međwl eu bod wedi dal dwfrgi, yr hyn a ystyrient yn orchest nid bychan. Cychwynasant gartref yn ỻawen ond cyn eu myned hyd ỻed cae, ỻefarođ ỻetywr y sach mewn ton drist gan đywedyd—‘Y mae fy mam yn galw am danaf, O, mae fy mam yn galw am danaf,’ yr hyn a rođođ fraw mawr i’r đau heliwr, ac yn y man taflasanty sach i lawr, a mawr oeđ eu rhyfeđod a’u dychryn pan welsant đyn bach mewn gwisg goch yn rhedeg o’r sach tuagat yr afon. Fe a điflannođ o’i golwg yn mysg y drysni ar fin yr afon. Yr oeđ y đau wedi eu brawychu yn đirfawr ac yn teimlo mae doethach oeđ myned gartref yn hytrach nag ymyrraeth yn mheỻach a’r Tylwyth Teg.
‘One day, two friends went to hunt otters on the banks of the Pennant, and when they were directing their steps towards the river, they beheld some small creature of a red colour running fast across the meadows in the direction of the river. Off they ran after it, and saw that it went beneath the roots of a tree on the brink of the river to hide itself. The two men thought it was an otter, but, at the same time, they could not understand why it seemed to them to be of a red colour. They wished to take it alive, and off one of them went to a farm house that was not far away to ask for a sack, which he got, to put the creature into it. Now there were two holes under the roots of the tree, and while one held the sack with its mouth open over one of them, the other pushed his stick into the other hole, and presently the creature went into the sack. The two men thought they had caught an otter, which they looked upon as no small feat. They set out for home, but before they had proceeded the width of one field, the inmate of the sack spoke to them in a sad voice, and said, “My mother is calling for me; oh, my mother is calling for me!” This gave the two hunters a great fright, so that they at once threw down the sack; and great was their surprise to see a little man in a red dress running out of the sack towards the river. He disappeared from their sight in the bushes by the river. The two men were greatly terrified, and felt that it was more prudent to go home than meddle any further with the fair family.’ So far as I know,this story stands alone in Welsh folklore; but it has an exact parallel in Lancashire16.
The other story, which I now reproduce, was obtained by Mr. Roberts from the same Abel Evans. He learnt it from Mrs. Ellen Edwards, and it refers to a point in her lifetime, which Abel Evans fixes at ninety years ago. Mr. Roberts has not succeeded in recovering the name of the cottager of whom it speaks; but he lived on the side of the Berwyn, above Cwm Pennant, where till lately a cottage used to stand, near which the fairies had one of their resorts:—
Yr oeđ perchen y bwthyn wedi amaethu rhyw ran fychan o’r mynyđ ger ỻaw y ty er mwyn plannu pytatws ynđo. Feỻy y gwnaeth. Mewn coeden yn agos i’r fan canfyđođ nyth bran. Fe feđyliođ mae doeth fuasai iđo đryỻio y nyth cyn amlhau o’r brain. Fe a esgynnođ y goeden ac a đryỻiođ y nyth, ac wedi disgyn i lawr canfyđođ gylch glas(fairy ring)ođiamgylch y pren, ac ar y cylch fe welođ hanner coron er ei fawr lawenyđ. Wrth fyned heibio yr un fan y boreu canlynol fe gafođ hanner coron yn yr un man ag y cafođ y dyđ o’r blaen. Hynna fu am amryw đyđiau. Un diwrnod dywedođ wrth gyfaiỻ am ei hap đa a đangosođ y fan a’r ỻe y cawsai yr hanner coron bob boreu. Wel y boreu canlynol nid oeđ yno na hanner coron na dim araỻ iđo, oherwyđ yr oeđ wedi torri rheolau y Tylwythion trwy wneud eu haelioni yn hysbys. Y mae y Tylwythion o’r farn na đylai y ỻaw aswy wybod yr hyn a wna y ỻaw đehau.
‘The occupier of the cottage had tilled a small portion of the mountain side near his home in order to plant potatoes, which he did. He observed that there was a rook’s nest on a tree which was not far from this spot, and it struck him that it would be prudent to breakthe nest before the rooks multiplied. So he climbed the tree and broke the nest, and, after coming down, he noticed a green circle (a fairy ring) round the tree, and on this circle he espied, to his great joy, half a crown. As he went by the same spot the following morning, he found another half a crown in the same place as before. So it happened for several days; but one day he told a friend of his good luck, and showed him the spot where he found half a crown every morning. Now the next morning there was for him neither half a crown nor anything else, because he had broken the rule of the fair folks by making their liberality known, they being of opinion that the left hand should not know what the right hand does.’
So runs this short tale, which the old lady, Mrs. Edwards, and the people of the neighbourhood explained as an instance of the gratitude of the fairies to a man who had rendered them a service, which in this case was supposed to have consisted in ridding them of the rooks, that disturbed their merry-makings in the green ring beneath the branches of the tree.