Folk-Lore of West and Mid-Wales

by Jonathan Ceredig Davies

BIRDS AND BEASTS LORE.

THE CUCKOO.

It is believed in Cardiganshire and Carmarthenshire by many, especially old people, that the cuckoo does not go away from this country in winter, but sleeps in some sheltered place. When a boy, I often heard the following ditty:—

“Amser y gwcw yw Ebrill a Mai,

A hanner Mehefin, chwi wyddoch bob rhai.”

(The Cuckoo’s time is April and May,

And half of June, as all know, I daresay).

The cuckoo making its appearance before the leaves are on the hawthorn bush is a sign of a bad year; and for the bird not to appear at its usual time is also a bad sign; hence:

“Gwcw Glamme,

Cosyn dime.”

When you hear the cuckoo for the first time in the season it is very important to have money in your pocket in order to secure good luck for the coming year. People turn the money in their pockets with their hands, and sometimes toss a piece into the air. It is also considered very lucky to hear this bird for the first time when you are standing on green grass; but if you are on the road or on bare ground, it is otherwise.

I have met people who do not like to hear the cuckoo for the first time before they get up from bed in the morning. To see the bird coming to the door is also regarded as an evil omen by some. A woman in North Cardiganshire informed me that a cuckoo came to the door before her father died. The cuckoo is supposed to be accompanied by the wryneck known in Welsh as Gwas-y-Gwcw.

If we are to believe an old legend, the cuckoo in former times used to begin to sing at Nevern, in Pembrokeshire, on the 7th of April, patron day of that parish; and George Owen of Henllys, who lived in the time of Queen Elizabeth, says, “I might well here omit an old report as yet fresh, of this odious bird, that in the old world the parish priest of the Church would not begin mass until this bird, called the citizen’s ambassador, had first appeared and began her note, on a stone called St. Byrnach’s Stone, being curiously wrought with sundry sorts of knots, standing upright in the Church-yard of the parish, and one year staying very long, and the priest and the people expecting her accustomed coming (for I account this bird of the feminine gender) came at last, lighting on the said stone, her accustomed preaching place, and being scarce able once to sound the note, presently fell dead.”

According to another old legend, this stone upon which the cuckoo began her note, was at first intended by St. David for Llanddewi Brefi, but St. Brynach prevailed upon him to leave it at Nevern. The Rev. J. T. Evans, Rector of Stow, gives this legend in “The Church Plate of Pembrokeshire.”

THE SWALLOW—Y WENNOL.

Many superstitions which cluster round the Swallow, have descended to us from remote antiquity; and among the Romans this bird was sacred to the household gods and the family. In Wales, it was formerly believed that the swallow, like the cuckoo, slept through the winter. This bird is also supposed to bring good fortune to the house upon which it builds its nest. If, however, the bird forsakes its old nest on a house, it is considered a sign of ill-luck. It is also most unlucky to break a swallow’s nest.

“Y neb a doro nyth y wenol

Ni wel fwyniant yn dragwyddol.”

(Whoever breaks a swallow’s nest,

Never, never shall be blest.)

ROBIN REDBREAST.

“Cursed is the man who kills a Robin,” and ill-luck follows those who take the eggs of this little bird.

The following Carmarthenshire story about the robin appeared in Bye Gones, vol. 1. p. 173:—

“Far, far away, is a land of woe, darkness, spirits of evil, and fire. Day by day does the little bird bear in its bill a drop of water to quench the flame. So near to the burning stream does he fly that his dear little feathers are scorched; and hence is he named Bronchuddyn (Qu. Bronrhuddyn), i.e., breastburned, or breastscorched. To serve little children, the robin dares approach the infernal pit. No good child will hurt the devoted benefactor of man. The robin returns from the land of fire, and, therefore, he feels the cold of winter far more than the other birds. He shivers in brumal blasts, and hungry he chirps before your door. Oh, my child, then, in pity throw a few crumbs to the poor redbreast.”

This old Welsh legend has been rendered into verse by the poet Whittier.

THE WREN—Y DRYW.

It seems from the following Welsh rhyme that the wren was also a sacred bird:—

“Pwy bynag doro nyth y dryw,

Ni wel byth mo wyneb Duw.”

(Whoever breaks a wren’s nest

Shall never know the Heavenly rest.)

It was once customary in Pembrokeshire to carry a wren round the houses during the Christmas holidays. I have given a full account of this custom in another chapter.

How the wren became king of the birds, is related in the next paragraph.

THE OWL.

The Owl is rather unpopular in Wales, and its hooting is considered a sign of ill-luck, if not of death. This bird is also supposed to be “hateful unto all birds.” To account for the unpopularity of the owl there are many legends. The following is given by Mr. H. W. Evans, Solva, in the “Pembrokeshire Antiquities,” p. 49:

“At one time all the birds unanimously decided to elect unto themselves a king; and (probably with an eye on the eagle) they resolved to crown monarch the bird that would soar the highest. On a signal being given they all started on their upward flight. After a very exciting contest the eagle was seen considerably higher than all other birds. Having reached the highest altitude possible he, in a loud voice, proclaimed himself king. ‘No, no, not yet,’ said a wren which had perched on the eagle’s back and had now flown a few yards higher. ‘Come up here,’ said the wren; but the eagle, having exhausted his strength, was unable to raise himself, and so the wren became king. When the birds beheld their king, they became very sad and sorrowful, and they cried bitterly. Afterwards they met in solemn conclave, and decided to drown their king in tears. So they procured a pan to hold their tears, and the birds gathered and craned their necks over the pan and wept. But the owl clumsily mounted the edge of the pan, thereby upsetting it, and spilled the tears. The birds became enraged at this, and swore vengeance against the owl, and ever since he has not dared to show himself during the day, and is obliged to seek his food at night, when all other birds are asleep.”

According to another version of this tale which is extant in Carmarthenshire, the wren in the contest for the kingship fell to the ground and hurt himself. The birds in compassion, prepared healing broth to cure the little bird—each bird putting something in the pot towards making this broth—the owl through his clumsiness was guilty of upsetting this pot containing the healing broth.

According to the Mabinogion, (see Math the son of Mathonwy) a woman named Blodeuwedd, for her wickedness towards her husband was turned into an owl; “and because of the shame thou hast done unto Llew Llaw Gyffes, thou shalt never show thy face in the light of day henceforth; and that through fear of all the other birds.... Now Blodeuwedd is an owl in the language of this present time, and for this reason is the owl hateful unto all birds.”

THE RAVEN.

To see one raven crossing the road when a person starts on a journey, is a bad omen; two ravens, however, are considered lucky.

THE MAGPIE.

I know many people in country places who are pleased to see two or three magpies going together from left to right when a person starts on a journey, as they regard it an omen of good luck. But to see a magpie crossing from the right to the left means ill-luck. Fortunately, however, a person can make void this bad luck by making a cross on the road and spit in the middle of it. A raven crossing after the magpie also makes void the bad luck, according to some; but the superstitions about the magpie and the raven are very similar.

Should a magpie descend on the back of a cow on the evening the animal is taken into the cow-house for the winter, it is a bad sign; but should this occur when the cow is taken out from the cowhouse for the summer, it is a good omen.

An old woman at Yspytty Ystwyth, informed me that the magpie was a bird of evil omen; for on the very day before her husband was killed at the mines, she saw three magpies close to the window.

THE MAGPIE AND THE WOOD-PIGEON.

“The Magpie, observing the slight knowledge of nest building possessed by the wood-pigeon, kindly undertook the work of giving his friend a lesson in the art, and as the lesson proceeded, the Wood-pigeon, bowing, cooed out:—

Mi wn! Mi wn! Mi wn!

I know! I know! I know!

The instructor was at first pleased with his apt pupil, and proceeded with his lesson, but before another word could be uttered, the bird, swelling with pride at its own importance and knowledge, said again:—

I know! I know! I know!

The Magpie was annoyed at this ignorant assurance, and with bitter sarcasm said: ‘Since you know, do it then,’ and this is why the wood pigeon’s nest is so untidy in our days. In its own mind it knew all about nest building and was above receiving instruction, and hence its clumsy way of building its nest. This fable gave rise to a proverb, “As the wood pigeon said to the magpie: ‘I know.’” Iolo MSS., page 567.

THE PIGEON.

It is said that if a sick person asks for a pigeon’s pie, or the flesh of a pigeon, it is a sign that his death is near. There is also a superstition that people cannot die in ease if there are pigeon’s feathers in their pillows. A writer in “Bye-Gones” refers to the case of a woman who died in 1803 at a farm-house called Southern Pills in the Parish of Lawrenny, Pembrokeshire, and states that on her death-bed the nurse snatched the pillow from under her head.

THE BEES.

The bees understand Welsh; for a woman on the borders of Cardiganshire and Carmarthenshire informed me that they have a Queen, who leads, and that they follow, when she bids them to come in these words:—

“Dewch, Dewch, Dewch.”

(Come, come, come.)

There are many superstitions about bees. There was a custom once of telling the bees of a death in the family, and they were even put in mourning. It was once considered by some very lucky to find that a strange swarm of bees had arrived in the garden or tree; if, however, they alighted on a dead tree it was an ill omen.

THE BEES AND ST. DAVID.

“Modomnoc, a disciple of St. David, went to Ireland, and a large swarm of bees followed him, and settled on the prow of the ship where he sat. They supplied him with meat during his Irish Mission; but he, not wishing to enjoy their company by fraud, brought them back to Wales, when they fled to their usual place, and David blessed Modomnoc for his humility. Three times the bees went and returned, and the third time holy David dismissed Modomnoc with the bees, and blessed them, saying that henceforth bees should prosper in Ireland, and should no longer increase in Glyn Rosyn. ‘This,’ adds Rhyddmarch, ‘is found to be the fact: swarms forthwith decreased at David’s; but Ireland, in which, until that time, bees could never live, is now enriched with plenty of honey. It is manifested that they could not live there before; for if you throw Irish earth or stone into the midst of the bees, they disperse, and, flying, they will shun it.‘—“Pilgrimage to St. David’s.”

THE COCK.

It is very curious that some people think that it is very lucky to possess a white cock and a black cat, whilst others look upon them with extreme disfavour.

“Na chadw byth yng ynghylch dy dy,

Na cheiliog gwyn na chath ddu.”

(Never keep about thy house,

A white cock, nor a black cat.)

A cock crowing in the day-time before the door announces the visit of a friend; but should he crow at night before or about midnight, it is considered a sign of death.

Cock-fighting was once common in Wales, and spots have been pointed out to me here and there, in Carmarthenshire and Cardiganshire where such fights took place.

THE CAT.

In some parts of the country a black cat is looked upon with extreme disfavour; in other parts again people say that a black cat keeps trouble out of the house. “Cath ddu yn cadw gofid ma’s o’r ty.”

It was thought that cats born in May bring snakes into the house.

If the cat washed her face, strangers might be expected.

FLYING SERPENTS—GWIBEROD.

The Welsh name Gwiber means a flying snake, or a flying serpent, an imaginary creature supposed to be a kind of dragon. There are traditions of these dangerous creatures in several parts of Wales; and it was formerly believed that a snake, by drinking the milk of a woman, became transformed into a flying serpent. This superstition was very common in the southern part of Cardiganshire until very recently. A few years ago when staying for a short time at Talybont in the northern part of the same county, a rocky spot was pointed out to me, about a mile from the village, where, according to tradition, a Gwiber which attacked people, had a lurking place in former times. There is also a tradition in the parish of Trelech, Carmarthenshire, that a Gwiber lurked in that neighbourhood once upon a time. At last the creature was shot.

A FLYING SERPENT AT NEWCASTLE EMLYN.

The most remarkable story of this kind is the well-known tradition of the appearance of a gwiber or Flying Serpent in the neighbourhood of Newcastle Emlyn, in the Vale of Teivi. This interesting small town boasts of a fine old castle, or at least the ruins of one, and it was upon the top of this castle the flying serpent or dragon alighted and rested. According to some, this took place as late as the eighteenth century, on a fine summer day. The flying creature was seen about mid-day, and as there was a fair at Newcastle Emlyn that day the town was crowded with people. The appearance of the “Gwiber” or dragon terrified the people, both old and young, and they feared that their lives were in jeopardy. The strange creature’s skin was covered by a hard and stony substance or shell, except the navel. The people were afraid of attempting to kill this flying monster, and did not know what to do. Fortunately, a valiant soldier who had been fighting for his country on land and sea, volunteered to put an end to the life of this strange and terrific creature, or die in the attempt. So taking off all his clothes, except his trousers, he proceeded with his gun in hand and stood right in the river. He then took a good aim at the creature’s navel which was the only part of its body not covered with shell. As soon as the soldier fired, in order to escape an attack from the flying serpent, he left a red flannel on the surface of the water, whilst he himself dived into the river and, at last, by swimming against the current, succeeded to land safely on the bank on the other side. The serpent fell or rushed into the river and began to attack the red flannel, but it was soon discovered that the creature had been mortally wounded, for the water of the river was coloured with its blood.

A version of this story appeared in “Y Brython,” fifty years ago, and another version of it written by the Rev. W. Eilir Evans, appeared in a Welsh book called “Hirnos Gauaf,” published in 1899.