Part 14
"Wrth fyned adre o chware cardia, ar Bont Maesgwyn gwelai Robert Llwyd Hari gylch crwn o dan; bu agos iddo droi yn ol, cymerodd galon eilwaith gan gofio fod ganddo Feibl yn ei boced, ac i ffordd ag e rhyngddo a'r tan, a phan oedd yn passio fe'i cipiwyd i fyny i'r awyr gan y Gwr Drwg, ond gallodd ddyweyd rhiw air wrth y D---, gollyngodd ef i lawr nes ydoedd yn disgyn yn farw mewn llyn a elwir Llyn Hari."
Which in English is as follows:--
When going home from playing cards, on Maesgwyn Bridge Robert Llwyd Hari saw a hoop of fire; he was half inclined to turn back, but took heart, remembering that he had a Bible in his pocket. So on he went, and when passing the fire he was snatched up into the air by the Bad Man, but he was able to utter a certain word to the D---, he was dropped down, and fell dead into a lake called Harry's Lake.
Many tales, varying slightly from the preceding three stories, are still extant in Wales, but these given are so typical of all the rest that it is unnecessary to record more.
It may be remarked that card playing was looked upon in the last century--and the feeling has not by any means disappeared in our days--as a deadly sin, and consequently a work pleasing to the Evil One, but it appears singular that the aid of Satan himself should have been invoked to put down a practice calculated to further his own interests. The incongruity of such a proceeding did not apparently enter into the minds of those who gave currency to these unequal contests. But in the tales we detect the existence of a tradition that Satan formerly joined in the pastimes of the people, and, if for card playing some other game were substituted, such as dancing, we should have a reproduction of those fabulous times, when satyrs and demigods and other prototypes of Satan are said to have been upon familiar terms with mortals, and joined in their sports.
The reader will have noticed that the poor man who lost his life in the Lake thought himself safe because he had a Bible in his pocket. This shows that the Bible was looked upon as a talisman. But in this instance its efficacy was only partial. I shall have more to say on this subject in another part of this work.
Satan in the preceding tales, and others, which shall by and by be related, is represented as transforming himself into a ball, or wheel of fire--into fire, the emblem of an old religion, a religion which has its votaries in certain parts of the world even in this century, and which, at one period in the history of the human race, was widespread. It is very suggestive that Satan should be spoken of as assuming the form of the Fire God, when his personality is detected, and the hint, conveyed by this transformation, would imply that he was himself the Fire God.
Having made these few comments on the preceding tales, I will now record a few stories in which Satan is made to take a role similar to that ascribed to him in the card-playing stories.
In the following tales Satan's aid is invoked to bring about a reformation in the observance of the Sabbath day.
_Satan frightening a Man for gathering Nuts on Sunday_.
The following tale was related to me by the Rev. W. E. Jones, rector of Bylchau, near Denbigh:--
Richard Roberts, Coederaill, Bylchau, when a young man, worked in Flintshire, and instead of going to a place of worship on Sunday he got into the habit of wandering about the fields on that day. One fine autumn Sunday he determined to go a-nutting. He came to a wood where nuts were plentiful, and in a short time he filled his pockets with nuts, but perceiving a bush loaded with nuts, he put out his hand to draw the branch to him, when he observed a hairy hand stretching towards the same branch. As soon as he saw this hand he was terribly frightened, and without turning round to see anything further of it, he took to his heels, and never afterwards did he venture to go a-nutting on Sunday.
Richard Roberts told the tale to Mr. Jones, his Rector, who tried to convince Roberts that a monkey was in the bush, but he affirmed that Satan had come to him.
_Satan taking possession of a man who fished on Sunday_.
The following tale is in its main features still current in Cynwyd, a village about two miles from Corwen. The first reference to the story that I am acquainted with appeared in an essay sent in to a local Eisteddfod in 1863. The story is thus related in this essay:--
"About half a mile from Cynwyd is the 'Mill Waterfall,' beneath which there is a deep linn or whirlpool, where a man, who was fishing there on Sunday, once found an enormous fish. 'I will catch him, though the D---l take me,' said the presumptuous man. The fish went under the fall, the man followed him, and was never afterwards seen." Such is the tale, but it is, or was believed, that Satan had changed himself into a fish, and by allurement got the man into his power and carried him bodily to the nethermost regions.
_Satan appearing in many forms to a Man who Travelled on Sunday_.
I received the following tale from my deceased friend, the Rev. J. L. Davies, late Rector of Llangynog, near Llanfyllin, Montgomeryshire, and he obtained it from William Davies, the man who figures in the story.
As a preface to the tale, it should be stated that it was usual, some years ago, for Welsh labourers to proceed to the harvest in England, which was earlier there than in Wales, and after that was finished, they hastened homewards to be in time for their own harvest. These migratory Welsh harvestmen are not altogether extinct in our days, but about forty years ago they were much more common than they are at present. Then respectable farmers' sons with sickles on their backs, and well filled wallets over their shoulders, went in companies to the early English Lowlands to hire themselves as harvest labourers. My tale now commences:--
William Davies, Penrhiw, near Aberystwyth, went to England for the harvest, and after having worked there about three weeks, he returned home alone, with all possible haste, as he knew that his father-in-law's fields were by this time ripe for the sickle. He, however, failed to accomplish the journey before Sunday; but he determined to travel on Sunday, and thus reach home on Sunday night to be ready to commence reaping on Monday morning. His conscience, though, would not allow him to be at rest, but he endeavoured to silence its twittings by saying to himself that he had with him no clothes to go to a place of worship. He stealthily, therefore, walked on, feeling very guilty every step he took, and dreading to meet anyone going to chapel or church. By Sunday evening he had reached the hill overlooking Llanfihangel Creuddyn, where he was known, so he determined not to enter the village until after the people had gone to their respective places of worship; he therefore sat down on the hill side and contemplated the scene below. He saw the people leave their houses for the house of God, he heard their songs of praise, and now he thinks he could venture to descend and pass through the village unobserved. Luckily no one saw him going through the village, and now he has entered a barley field, and although still uneasy in mind, he feels somewhat reassured, and steps on quickly. He had not proceeded far in the barley field before he found himself surrounded by a large number of small pigs. He was not much struck by this, though he thought it strange that so many pigs should be allowed to wander about on the Sabbath day. The pigs, however, came up to him, stared at him, grunted, and scampered away. Before he had traversed the barley field he saw approaching him an innumerable number of mice, and these, too, surrounded him, only, however, to stare at him, and then to disappear. By this Davies began to be frightened, and he was almost sorry that he had broken the Sabbath day by travelling with his pack on his back instead of keeping the day holy. He was not now very far from home, and this thought gave him courage and on he went. He had not proceeded any great distance from the spot where the mice had appeared when he saw a large greyhound walking before him on the pathway. He anxiously watched the dog, but suddenly it vanished out of his sight. By this the poor man was thoroughly frightened, and many and truly sincere were his regrets that he had broken the Sabbath; but on he went. He passed through the village of Llanilar without any further fright. He had now gone about three miles from Llanfihangel along the road that goes to Aberystwyth, and he had begun to dispel the fear that had seized him, but to his horror he saw something approach him that made his hair stand on end. He could not at first make it out, but he soon clearly saw that it was a horse that was madly dashing towards him. He had only just time to step on to the ditch, when, horrible to relate, a headless white horse rushed past him. His limbs shook and the perspiration stood out like beads on his forehead. This terrible spectre he saw when close to Tan'rallt, but he dared not turn into the house, as he was travelling on Sunday, so on he went again, and heartily did he wish himself at home. In fear and dread he proceeded on his journey towards Penrhiw. The most direct way from Tan'rallt to Penrhiw was a pathway through the fields, and Davies took this pathway, and now he was in sight of his home, and he hastened towards the boundary fence between Tan'rallt and Penrhiw. He knew that there was a gap in the hedge that he could get through, and for this gap he aimed; he reached it, but further progress was impossible, for in the gap was a lady lying at full length, and immovable, and stopping up the gap entirely. Poor Davies was now more thoroughly terrified than ever. He sprang aside, he screamed, and then he fainted right away. As soon as he recovered consciousness, he, on his knees, and in a loud supplicating voice, prayed for pardon. His mother and father-in-law heard him, and the mother knew the voice and said, "It is my Will; some mishap has overtaken him." They went to him and found he was so weak that he could not move, and they were obliged to carry him home, where he recounted to them his marvellous experience.
My clerical friend, who was intimately acquainted with William Davies, had many conversations with him about his Sunday journey, and he argued the matter with him, and tried to persuade him that he had seen nothing, but that it was his imagination working on a nervous temperament that had created all his fantasies. He however failed to convince him, for Davies affirmed that it was no hallucination, but that what he had seen that Sunday was a punishment for his having broken the Fourth Commandment. It need hardly be added that Davies ever afterwards was a strict observer of the Day of Rest.
The following tale, taken from _A Relation of Apparitions_, etc., by the Rev. Edmund Jones, inculcates the same lesson as that taught by the previous tales. I will give the tale a title.
_The Evil Spirit appearing to a Man who frequented Alehouses on Sunday_.
Jones writes as follows:--"W. J. was once a Sabbath-breaker at _Risca_ village, where he frequently used to play and visit the alehouses on the Sabbath day, and there stay till late at night. On returning homeward he heard something walking behind him, and turning to see what it was he could see the likeness of a man walking by his side; he could not see his face, and was afraid to look much at it, fearing it was an evil spirit, as it really was, therefore he did not wish it good night. This dreadful dangerous apparition generally walked by the left side of him. It afterwards appeared like a great mastiff dog, which terrified him so much that he knew not where he was. After it had gone about half a mile, it transformed itself into a great fire, as large as a small field, and resembled the noise which a fire makes in burning gorse."
This vision seems to have had the desired effect on W. J. for we are told that he _was once_ a Sabbath breaker, the inference being, that he was not one when the Rev. Edmund Jones wrote the above narrative.
Tales of this kind could be multiplied to almost any extent, but more need not be given. The one idea that runs through them all is that Satan has appeared, and may appear again, to Sabbath breakers, and therefore those who wish to avoid coming in contact with him should keep the Sabbath day holy.
_Satan Outwitted_.
In the preceding tales the Evil One is depicted as an agent in the destruction of his own kingdom. He thus shows his obtuseness, or his subordination to a higher power. In the story that follows, he is outwitted by a Welshman. Many variants of this tale are found in many countries. It is evident from this and like stories, that it was believed the Spirit of Evil could easily be circumvented by an intelligent human being.
The tale is taken from _Y Brython_, vol. v., p. 192. I when a lad often heard the story related, and the scene is laid in Trefeglwys, Montgomeryshire, a parish only a few miles distant from the place where I spent my childhood. The writer in _Y Brython_, speaking of _Ffinant_, says that this farm is about a mile from Trefeglwys, on the north side of the road leading to Newtown. He then proceeds as follows:--
"Mae hen draddodiad tra anhygoel yn perthyn i'r lie hwn. Dywedir fod hen ysgubor yn sefyll yn yr ochr ddeheuol i'r brif-ffordd. Un boreu Sul, pan ydoedd y meistr yn cychwyn i'r Eglwys, dywedodd wrth un o'i weision am gadw y brain oddi ar y maes lle yr oedd gwenith wedi ei hau, yn yr hwn y safai yr hen ysgubor. Y gwas, trwy ryw foddion, a gasglodd y brain oll iddi, a chauodd arnynt; yna dilynodd ei feistr i'r Eglwys; yntau, wrth ei weled yno, a ddechreuodd ei geryddu yn llym. Y meistr, wedi clywed y fath newydd, a hwyliodd ei gamrau tua'i gartref; ac efe a'u cafodd, er ei syndod, fel y crybwyllwyd; ac fe ddywedir fod yr ysgubor yn orlawn o honynt. Gelwir y maes hwn yn _Crow-barn_, neu Ysgubor y brain, hyd heddyw. Dywedir mai enw y gwas oedd Dafydd Hiraddug, ac iddo werthu ei hun i'r diafol, ac oherwydd hyny, ei fod yn alluog i gyflawni gweithredoedd anhygoel yn yr oes hon. Pa fodd bynag, dywedir i Dafydd fod yn gyfrwysach na'r hen sarff y tro hwn, yn ol y cytundeb fu rhyngddynt. Yr ammod oedd, fod i'r diafol gael meddiant hollol o Ddafydd, os dygid ei gorff dros erchwyn gwely, neu trwy ddrws, neu os cleddid ef mewn mynwent, neu mewn Eglwys. Yr oedd Dafydd wedi gorchymyn, pan y byddai farw, am gymmeryd yr afu a'r ysgyfaint o'i gorff, a'i taflu i ben tomen, a dal sylw pa un ai cigfran ai colomen fyddai yn ennill buddugoliaeth am danynt; os cigfran, am gymmeryd ei gorff allan trwy waelod ac nid dros erchwyn y gwely; a thrwy bared ac nid trwy ddrws, a'i gladdu, nid mewn mynwent na llan, ond o dan fur yr Eglwys; ac i'r diafol pan ddeallodd hyn lefaru, gan ddywedyd:--
Dafydd Hiraddug ei ryw, _Ffals_ yn farw, _ffals_ yn fyw."
The tale in English is as follows:--
There is an incredible tradition connected with this place Ffinant, Trefeglwys. It is said that an old barn stands on the right hand side of the highway. One Sunday morning, as the master was starting to church, he told one of the servants to keep the crows from a field that had been sown with wheat, in which field the old barn stood. The servant, through some means, collected all the crows into the barn, and shut the door on them. He then followed his master to the Church, who, when he saw the servant there, began to reprove him sharply. But the master, when he heard the strange news, turned his steps homewards, and found to his amazement that the tale was true, and it is said that the barn was filled with crows. This barn, ever afterwards was called _Crow-barn_, a name it still retains.
It is said that the servant's name was Dafydd Hiraddug, and that he had sold himself to the devil, and that consequently, he was able to perform feats, which in this age are considered incredible. However, it is said that Dafydd was on this occasion more subtle than the old serpent, even according to the agreement which was between them. The contract was, that the devil was to have complete possession of Dafydd if his corpse were taken over the side of the bed, or through a door, or if buried in a churchyard, or inside a church. Dafydd had commanded, that on his death, the liver and lights were to be taken out of his body and thrown on the dunghill, and notice was to be taken whether a raven or a dove got possession of them; if a raven, then his body was to be taken away by the foot, and not by the side of the bed, and through the wall, and not through the door, and he was to be buried, not in the churchyard nor in the Church, but under the Church walls. And the devil, when he saw that by these arrangements he had been duped cried, saying:--
Dafydd Hiraddug, badly bred,
False when living, and false when dead.
Such is the tale. I now come to another series of Folk-Lore stories, which seem to imply that in ancient days rival religions savagely contended for the supremacy, and in these tales also Satan occupies a prominent position.
_Satan and Churches_.
The traditional stories that are still extant respecting the determined opposition to the erection of certain churches in particular spots, and the removal of the materials during the night to some other site, where ultimately the new edifice was obliged to be erected, and the many stories of haunted churches, where evil spirits had made a lodgment, and could not for ages be ousted, are evidences of the antagonism of rival forms of paganism, or of the opposition of an ancient religion to the new and intruding Christian Faith.
Brash in his _Ogam Inscribed Stones_, p. 109, speaking of Irish Churches, says:--
"It is well known that many of our early churches were erected on sites professedly pagan."
The most ancient churches in Wales have circular or ovoidal churchyards--a form essentially Celtic--and it may well be that these sacred spots were dedicated to religious purposes in pagan times, and were appropriated by the early Christians,--not, perhaps, without opposition on the part of the adherents of the old faith--and consecrated to the use of the Christian religion. In these churchyards were often to be found holy, or sacred wells, and many of them still exist, and modes of divination were practised at these wells, which have come down to our days, and which must have originated in pre-Christian or pagan times.
It is highly probable that the older faith would for a while exist concurrently with the new, and mutual contempt and annoyance on the part of the supporters of the respective beliefs would as naturally follow in those times as in any succeeding age, but this fact should be emphasised--that the modes of warfare would correspond with the civilized or uncivilized state of the opponents. This remark is general in its application, and applies to races conquered by the Celts in Britain, quite as much as to races who conquered the Celt, and there are not wanting certain indications that the tales associated with Satan belong to a period long anterior to the introduction of Christianity. Certain classes of these tales undoubtedly refer to the antagonism of beliefs more ancient than the Christian faith, and they indicate the measures taken by one party to suppress the other. Thus we see it related that the Evil Spirit is forcibly ejected from churches, and dragged to the river, and there a tragedy occurs. In other words a horrible murder is committed on the representative of the defeated religion. The very fact that he loses his life in a river--in water--in an object of wide spread worship--is not without its significance.
We have seen in the legend of the Evil Spirit in Cerrig-y-drudion Church, p. 133,--that it was ejected, after a severe struggle, from the sacred building--that it was dragged to the lake, where it lost its life, by two _Ychain Banawg_--that they, and it, perished together in the lake:--Now these _Ychain Banawg_ or long-horned oxen, huge in size and strong of limb, are traditional, if not fabulous animals, and this one incident in the legend is enough to prove its great antiquity. Undoubtedly it dates from remote pre-Christian times, and yet the tale is associated with modern ideas, and modes of expression. It has come down to us along the tide of time, and has received its colouring from the ages it has passed through. Yet on the very surface of this ancient legend we perceive it written that in days of old there was severe antagonism between rival forms of pagan faith, and the manner in which the weaker--and perhaps the more ancient--is overcome, is made clear. The instrument used is brute force, and the vanquished party is _drowned_ or, in the euphonious language of the tales, _is laid_.
There are many stories of spirits that have been cast out of churches, still extant in Wales, and one of the most famous of these is that of Llanfor Church, near Bala. It resembles that of Cerrig-y-drudion. I have succeeded in obtaining several versions of this legend. I am indebted for the first to Mr. R. Roberts, Clocaenog, a native of Bala.
_The Ejectment of the Evil Spirit from Llanfor Church_.