Part 2

Y bwriodd y _Tylwyth Teg_ fi . . . oni bai fy nyfod i mewn pryd i'th achub o gigweiniau _Plant Annwfn_.

Where the _Tylwyth Teg_ threw me . . . if I had not come in time to rescue thee from the clutches of _Plant Annwfn_.

_Annwn_, or _Annwfn_ is defined in Canon Silvan Evans's Dictionary as an abyss, Hades, etc. _Plant Annwn_, therefore, means children of the lower regions. It is a name derived from the supposed place of abode--the bowels of the earth--of the Fairies. _Gwragedd Annwn_, dames of Elfin land, is a term applied to Fairy ladies.

Ellis Wynne, the author of _Bardd Cwsg_, was born in 1671, and the probability is that the words _Plant Annwfn_ formed in his days part of the vocabulary of the people. He was born in Merionethshire.

_Gwyll_, according to Richards, and Dr. Owen Pughe, is a Fairy, a goblin, etc. The plural of _Gwyll_ would be _Gwylliaid_, or _Gwyllion_, but this latter word Dr. Pughe defines as ghosts, hobgoblins, etc. Formerly, there was in Merionethshire a red haired family of robbers called _Y Gwylliaid Cochion_, or Red Fairies, of whom I shall speak hereafter.

_Coblynau_, or Knockers, have been described as a species of Fairies, whose abode was within the rocks, and whose province it was to indicate to the miners by the process of knocking, etc., the presence of rich lodes of lead or other metals in this or that direction of the mine.

That the words _Tylwyth Teg_ and _Ellyll_ are convertible terms appears from the following stanza, which is taken from the _Cambrian Magazine_, vol. ii, p. 58.

Pan dramwych ffridd yr Ywen, Lle mae _Tylwyth Teg_ yn rhodien, Dos ymlaen, a phaid a sefyll, Gwilia'th droed--rhag dawnsva'r _Ellyll_.

When the forest of the Yew, Where _Fairies_ haunt, thou passest through, Tarry not, thy footsteps guard From the _Goblins'_ dancing sward.

Although the poet mentions the _Tylwyth Teg_ and _Ellyll_ as identical, he might have done so for rhythmical reasons. Undoubtedly, in the first instance a distinction would be drawn between these two words, which originally were intended perhaps to describe two different kinds of beings, but in the course of time the words became interchangeable, and thus their distinctive character was lost. In English the words Fairies and elves are used without any distinction. It would appear from Brand's _Popular Antiquities_, vol. II., p. 478., that, according to Gervase of Tilbury, there were two kinds of Goblins in England, called _Portuni_ and _Grant_. This division suggests a difference between the _Tylwyth Teg_ and the _Ellyll_. The _Portuni_, we are told, were very small of stature and old in appearance, "_statura pusilli_, _dimidium pollicis non habentes_," but then they were "_senili vultu_, _facie corrugata_." The wrinkled face and aged countenance of the _Portuni_ remind us of nursery Fairy tales in which the wee ancient female Fairy figures. The pranks of the _Portuni_ were similar to those of Shakespeare's Puck. The species _Grant_ is not described, and consequently it cannot be ascertained how far they resembled any of the many kinds of Welsh Fairies. Gervase, speaking of one of these species, says:--"If anything should be to be carried on in the house, or any kind of laborious work to be done, they join themselves to the work, and expedite it with more than human facility."

In Scotland there were at least two species of elves, the _Brownies_ and the _Fairies_. The Brownies were so called from their tawny colour, and the Fairies from their fairness. The _Portuni_ of Gervase appear to have corresponded in character to the Brownies, who were said to have employed themselves in the night in the discharge of laborious undertakings acceptable to the family to whose service they had devoted themselves. The Fairies proper of Scotland strongly resembled the Fairies of Wales.

The term _Brownie_, or swarthy elve, suggests a connection between them and the _Gwylliaid Cochion_, or Red Fairies of Wales.

FAIRY LADIES MARRYING MORTALS.

In the mythology of the Greeks, and other nations, gods and goddesses are spoken of as falling in love with human beings, and many an ancient genealogy began with a celestial ancestor. Much the same thing is said of the Fairies. Tradition speaks of them as being enamoured of the inhabitants of this earth, and content, for awhile, to be wedded to mortals. And there are families in Wales who are said to have Fairy blood coursing through their veins, but they are, or were, not so highly esteemed as were the offspring of the gods among the Greeks. The famous physicians of Myddfai, who owed their talent and supposed supernatural knowledge to their Fairy origin, are, however, an exception; for their renown, notwithstanding their parentage, was always great, and increased in greatness, as the rolling years removed them from their traditionary parent, the Fairy lady of the Van Pool.

The _Pellings_ are said to have sprung from a Fairy Mother, and the author of _Observations on the Snowdon Mountains_ states that the best blood in his veins is fairy blood. There are in some parts of Wales reputed descendants on the female side of the _Gwylliaid Cochion_ race; and there are other families among us whom the aged of fifty years ago, with an ominous shake of the head, would say were of Fairy extraction. We are not, therefore, in Wales void of families of doubtful parentage or origin.

All the current tales of men marrying Fairy ladies belong to a class of stories called, technically, Taboo stories. In these tales the lady marries her lover conditionally, and when this condition is broken she deserts husband and children, and hies back to Fairy land.

This kind of tale is current among many people. Max Muller in _Chips from a German Workshop_, vol. ii, pp. 104-6, records one of these ancient stories, which is found in the Brahma_n_a of the Ya_g_ur-veda. Omitting a few particulars, the story is as follows:--

"Urvasi, a kind of Fairy, fell in love with Pururavas, the son of Ida, and when she met him she said, 'Embrace me three times a day, but never against my will, and let me never see you without your royal garments, for this is the manner of women.' In this manner she lived with him a long time, and she was with child. Then her former friends, the Gandharvas, said: 'This Urvasi has now dwelt a long time among mortals; let us see that she come back.' Now, there was a ewe, with two lambs, tied to the couch of Urvasi and Pururavas, and the Gandharvas stole one of them. Urvasi said: 'They take away my darling, as if I had lived in a land where there is no hero and no man.' They stole the second, and she upbraided her husband again. Then Pururavas looked and said: 'How can that be a land without heroes and men where I am?' And naked, he sprang up; he thought it too long to put on his dress. Then the Gandharvas sent a flash of lightning, and Urvasi saw her husband naked as by daylight. Then she vanished; 'I come back,' she said, and went.

Pururavas bewailed his love in bitter grief. But whilst walking along the border of a lake full of lotus flowers the Fairies were playing there in the water, in the shape of birds, and Urvasi discovered him and said:--

'That is the man with whom I dwelt so long.' Then her friends said: 'Let us appear to him.' She agreed, and they appeared before him. Then the king recognised her, and said:--

'Lo! my wife, stay, thou cruel in mind! Let us now exchange some words! Our secrets, if they are not told now, will not bring us back on any later day.'

She replied: 'What shall I do with thy speech? I am gone like the first of the dawns. Pururavas, go home again, I am hard to be caught, like the wind.'"

The Fairy wife by and by relents, and her mortal lover became, by a certain sacrifice, one of the Gandharvas.

This ancient Hindu Fairy tale resembles in many particulars similar tales found in Celtic Folk-Lore, and possibly, the original story, in its main features, existed before the Aryan family had separated. The very words, "I am hard to be caught," appear in one of the Welsh legends, which shall be hereafter given:--

Nid hawdd fy nala, I am hard to be caught.

And the scene is similar; in both cases the Fairy ladies are discovered in a lake. The immortal weds the mortal, conditionally, and for awhile the union seems to be a happy one. But, unwittingly, when engaged in an undertaking suggested by, or in agreement with the wife's wishes, the prohibited thing is done, and the lady vanishes away.

Such are the chief features of these mythical marriages. I will now record like tales that have found a home in several parts of Wales.

WELSH LEGENDS OF FAIRY LADIES MARRYING MEN.

1. _The Pentrevoelas Legend_.

I am indebted to the Rev. Owen Jones, Vicar of Pentrevoelas, a mountain parish in West Denbighshire, for the following tale, which was written in Welsh by a native of those parts, and appeared in competition for a prize on the Folk-Lore of that parish.

The son of Hafodgarreg was shepherding his father's flock on the hills, and whilst thus engaged, he, one misty morning, came suddenly upon a lovely girl, seated on the sheltered side of a peat-stack. The maiden appeared to be in great distress, and she was crying bitterly. The young man went up to her, and spoke kindly to her, and his attention and sympathy were not without effect on the comely stranger. So beautiful was the young woman, that from expressions of sympathy the smitten youth proceeded to words of love, and his advances were not repelled. But whilst the lovers were holding sweet conversation, there appeared on the scene a venerable and aged man, who, addressing the female as her father, bade her follow him. She immediately obeyed, and both departed leaving the young man alone. He lingered about the place until the evening, wishing and hoping that she might return, but she came not. Early the next day, he was at the spot where he first felt what love was. All day long he loitered about the place, vainly hoping that the beautiful girl would pay another visit to the mountain, but he was doomed to disappointment, and night again drove him homewards. Thus daily went he to the place where he had met his beloved, but she was not there, and, love-sick and lonely, he returned to Hafodgarreg. Such devotion deserved its reward. It would seem that the young lady loved the young man quite as much as he loved her. And in the land of allurement and illusion (yn nhir hud a lledrith) she planned a visit to the earth, and met her lover, but she was soon missed by her father, and he, suspecting her love for this young man, again came upon them, and found them conversing lovingly together. Much talk took place between the sire and his daughter, and the shepherd, waxing bold, begged and begged her father to give him his daughter in marriage. The sire, perceiving that the man was in earnest, turned to his daughter, and asked her whether it were her wish to marry a man of the earth? She said it was. Then the father told the shepherd he should have his daughter to wife, and that she should stay with him, until he should strike her with _iron_, and that, as a marriage portion, he would give her a bag filled with bright money. The young couple were duly married, and the promised dowry was received. For many years they lived lovingly and happily together, and children were born to them. One day this man and his wife went together to the hill to catch a couple of ponies, to carry them to the Festival of the Saint of Capel Garmon. The ponies were very wild, and could not be caught. The man, irritated, pursued the nimble creatures. His wife was by his side, and now he thought he had them in his power, but just at the moment he was about to grasp their manes, off they wildly galloped, and the man, in anger, finding that they had again eluded him, threw the bridle after them, and, sad to say, the bit struck the wife, and as this was of _iron_ they both knew that their marriage contract was broken. Hardly had they had time to realise the dire accident, ere the aged father of the bride appeared, accompanied by a host of Fairies, and there and then departed with his daughter to the land whence she came, and that, too, without even allowing her to bid farewell to her children. The money, though, and the children were left behind, and these were the only memorials of the lovely wife and the kindest of mothers, that remained to remind the shepherd of the treasure he had lost in the person of his Fairy spouse.

Such is the Pentrevoelas Legend. The writer had evidently not seen the version of this story in the _Cambro-Briton_, nor had he read Williams's tale of a like occurrence, recorded in _Observations on the Snowdon Mountains_. The account, therefore, is all the more valuable, as being an independent production.

A fragmentary variant of the preceding legend was given me by Mr. Lloyd, late schoolmaster of Llanfihangel-Glyn-Myfyr, a native of South Wales, who heard the tale in the parish of Llanfihangel. Although but a fragment, it may not be altogether useless, and I will give it as I received it:--

Shon Rolant, Hafod y Dre, Pentrevoelas, when going home from Llanrwst market, fortunately caught a Fairy-maid, whom he took home with him. She was a most handsome woman, but rather short and slight in person. She was admired by everybody on account of her great beauty. Shon Rolant fell desperately in love with her, and would have married her, but this she would not allow. He, however, continued pressing her to become his wife, and, by and by, she consented to do so, provided he could find out her name. As Shon was again going home from the market about a month later, he heard some one saying, near the place where he had seized the Fairy-maid, "Where is little Penloi gone? Where is little Penloi gone?" Shon at once thought that some one was searching for the Fairy he had captured, and when he reached home, he addressed the Fairy by the name he had heard, and Penloi consented to become his wife. She, however, expressed displeasure at marrying a dead man, as the Fairies call us. She informed her lover that she was not to be touched with _iron_, or she would disappear at once. Shon took great care not to touch her with _iron_. However, one day, when he was on horseback talking to his beloved Penloi, who stood at the horse's head, the horse suddenly threw up its head, and the curb, which was of _iron_, came in contact with Penloi, who immediately vanished out of sight.

The next legend is taken from Williams's _Observations on the Snowdon Mountains_. His work was published in 1802. He, himself, was born in Anglesey, in 1738, and migrated to Carnarvonshire about the year 1760. It was in this latter county that he became a learned antiquary, and a careful recorder of events that came under his notice. His "Observations" throw considerable light upon the life, the customs, and the traditions of the inhabitants of the hill parts and secluded glens of Carnarvonshire. I have thought fit to make these few remarks about the author I quote from, so as to enable the reader to give to him that credence which he is entitled to. Williams entitles the following story, "A Fairy Tale," but I will for the sake of reference call it "The Ystrad Legend."

2. _The Ystrad Legend_.

"In a meadow belonging to Ystrad, bounded by the river which falls from Cwellyn Lake, they say the Fairies used to assemble, and dance on fair moon-light-nights. One evening a young man, who was the heir and occupier of this farm, hid himself in a thicket close to the spot where they used to gambol; presently they appeared, and when in their merry mood, out he bounced from his covert and seized one of their females; the rest of the company dispersed themselves, and disappeared in an instant. Disregarding her struggles and screams, he hauled her to his home, where he treated her so very kindly that she became content to live with him as his maid servant; but he could not prevail upon her to tell him her name. Some time after, happening again to see the Fairies upon the same spot, he heard one of them saying, 'The last time we met here, our sister _Penelope_ was snatched away from us by one of the mortals!' Rejoiced at knowing the name of his _Incognita_, he returned home; and as she was very beautiful, and extremely active, he proposed to marry her, which she would not for a long time consent to; at last, however, she complied, but on this condition, 'That if ever he should strike her with iron, she would leave him, and never return to him again.' They lived happily for many years together, and he had by her a son, and a daughter; and by her industry and prudent management as a house-wife he became one of the richest men in the country. He farmed, besides his own freehold, all the lands on the north side of Nant-y-Bettws to the top of Snowdon, and all Cwmbrwynog in Llanberis; an extent of about five thousand acres or upwards.

Unfortunately, one day Penelope followed her husband into the field to catch a horse; and he, being in a rage at the animal as he ran away from him, threw at him the bridle that was in his hand, which unluckily fell on poor Penelope. She disappeared in an instant, and he never saw her afterwards, but heard her voice in the window of his room one night after, requesting him to take care of the children, in these words:--

Rhag bod anwyd ar fy mab, Yn rhodd rhowch arno gob ei dad, Rhag bod anwyd ar liw'r cann, Rhoddwch arni bais ei mam.

That is--

Oh! lest my son should suffer cold, Him in his father's coat infold, Lest cold should seize my darling fair, For her, her mother's robe prepare.

These children and their descendants, they say, were called _Pellings_; a word corrupted from their mother's name, Penelope."

Williams proceeds thus with reference to the descendants of this union:--

"The late Thomas Rowlands, Esq., of Caerau, in Anglesey, the father of the late Lady Bulkeley, was a descendant of this lady, if it be true that the name _Pellings_ came from her; and there are still living several opulent and respectable people who are known to have sprung from the _Pellings_. The best blood in my own veins is this Fairy's."

This tale was chronicled in the last century, but it is not known whether every particular incident connected therewith was recorded by Williams. _Glasynys_, the Rev. Owen Wynne Jones, a clergyman, relates a tale in the _Brython_, which he regards as the same tale as that given by Williams, and he says that he heard it scores of times when he was a lad. _Glasynys_ was born in the parish of Rhostryfan, Carnarvonshire, in 1827, and as his birth place is not far distant from the scene of this legend, he might have heard a different version of Williams's tale, and that too of equal value with Williams's. Possibly, there were not more than from forty to fifty years between the time when the older writer heard the tale and the time when it was heard by the younger man. An octogenarian, or even a younger person, could have conversed with both Williams and _Glasynys_. _Glasynys's_ tale appears in Professor Rhys's _Welsh Fairy Tales_, _Cymmrodor_, vol. iv., p. 188. It originally appeared in the _Brython_ for 1863, p. 193. It is as follows:--

"One fine sunny morning, as the young heir of Ystrad was busied with his sheep on the side of Moel Eilio, he met a very pretty girl, and when he got home he told the folks there of it. A few days afterwards he met her again, and this happened several times, when he mentioned it to his father, who advised him to seize her when he next met her. The next time he met her he proceeded to do so, but before he could take her away, a little fat old man came to them and begged him to give her back to him, to which the youth would not listen. The little man uttered terrible threats, but he would not yield, so an agreement was made between them that he was to have her to wife until he touched her skin with iron, and great was the joy both of the son and his parents in consequence. They lived together for many years, but once on a time, on the evening of Bettws Fair, the wife's horse got restive, and somehow, as the husband was attending to the horse, the stirrups touched the skin of her bare leg, and that very night she was taken away from him. She had three or four children, and more than one of their descendants, as _Glasynys_ maintains, were known to him at the time he wrote in 1863."

3. _The Llanfrothen Legend_.

I am indebted to the Rev. R. Jones, Rector of Llanycil, Bala, for the following legend. I may state that Mr. Jones is a native of Llanfrothen, Merionethshire, a parish in close proximity to the scene of the story. Mr. Jones's informant was his mother, a lady whose mind was well stored with tales of by-gone times, and my friend and informant inherits his mother's retentive memory, as well as her love of ancient lore.

A certain man fell in love with a beautiful Fairy lady, and he wished to marry her. She consented to do so, but warned him that if he ever touched her with iron she would leave him immediately. This stipulation weighed but lightly on the lover. They were married, and for many years they lived most happily together, and several children were born to them. A sad mishap, however, one day overtook them. They were together, crossing Traethmawr, Penrhyndeudraeth, on horseback, when the man's horse became restive, and jerked his head towards the woman, and the bit of the bridle touched the left arm of the Fairy wife. She at once told her husband that they must part for ever. He was greatly distressed, and implored her not to leave him. She said she could not stay. Then the man, appealing to a mother's love for her children, begged that she would for the sake of their offspring continue to dwell with him and them, and, said he, what will become of our children without their mother? Her answer was:--

Gadewch iddynt fod yn bennau cochion a thrwynau hirion.

Let them be redheaded and longnosed.

Having uttered these words, she disappeared and was never seen afterwards.