CAVES.
OGOF MORRIS (MORRIS’S CAVE).
Near Tre’rddol in North Cardiganshire, there is a cave known as Ogof Morris. According to a tradition I heard in the neighbourhood, this Morris was a notorious robber who lived in this cave, and went about to steal hens and sheep; but at last he was caught and hanged at Cardigan. According to the eminent antiquarian, Mr. Barnwell, there was a robber of the name also in Pembrokeshire, who had a little dog trained to fetch the arrows shot at unfortunate wayfarers. At last he was killed and buried at a spot where there is a stone still called “Bedd Morris” on the highway from St. David’s to Newport.
BLOODY CAVE.
There is a cave at Pendine, in Carmarthenshire, in which according to tradition a gang of most desperate and murderous robbers once made their headquarters. At last, these scoundrels were attacked by the people of the neighbourhood, and put to death for murdering a woman for her money.
PLANT MAT’S CAVE.
According to tradition “Plant Mat,” or “Plant y Fat,” were two sons and a daughter of one Matthew Evans, who kept a public house at Tregaron in the seventeenth century. These persons became highway robbers and lived in a cave near Devil’s Bridge. The entrance to the cave admitted only one person at a time and this enabled the robbers to keep out hundreds when they were attacked. It seems that they had some notion of honour, for it is said that if either had a friend, he gave him his glove, which served as a passport when stopped by the others. They lived for some years in this cave, but at last they were executed for murder. One of them was captured near Hereford, just as he was giving out the well-known hail of “Deliver or die.” These robbers are also credited with the attributes of the fairies.
TWM SHION CATTI’S CAVE.
“Mae llefain mawr a gwaeddi,
Yn Ystradffin eleni;
Mae’r ceryg nadd yn toddi’n blwm,
Rhag ofn twm Sion Catti.”
(In Ystradffin a doleful sound
Pervades the hollow hills around;
The very stones with terror melt,
Such tear of Twm Shion Catti’s felt.)
This cave, which is near Ystradffin, on the borders of Carmarthenshire and Cardiganshire, was once, says tradition, the stronghold of Twm Shion Catti, or to give him his proper name Thomas Jones. This Thomas Jones, or Twm Shion Catti, lived at Tregaron in the time of Queen Elizabeth. It seems that he had been in his younger days a freebooter, but reformed and became a celebrated bard, antiquary and a genealogist. The legends which have gathered round the name of this eminent man, are still retained in the memory of the people in Cardiganshire and Carmarthenshire, and the late Mr. T. J. L. Prichard, of Llandovery, made him the hero of a most popular romance, into whose book the stories have been introduced, and embellished.
OWEN LAWGOCH’S CAVE.
This cave is in the limestone rock of Dinas, Llandebie, in Carmarthenshire, respecting which there is a story that a great warrior named Owen Lawgoch and his men fell asleep in it, but who are some day to awake and sally forth. A version of the legend is given in the Brython for 1858, page 179, by the late Gwynionydd, and an English translation of the same story is given by Sir John Rhys in his “Celtic Folk-Lore.”
“Not the least of the wonders of imagination wont to exercise the minds of the old people was the story of Owen Lawgoch. One sometimes hears sung in the fairs the words:—
‘Yr Owain hwn yw Harri’r Nawfed
Sydd yn trigo ‘ngwlad estroniaid, etc.’
(This Owen is Henry the Ninth
Who tarries in a foreign land, etc.)
But this Owen Lawgoch, the national deliverer of our ancient race of Brythons, did not, according to the Troed yr Aur people, tarry in a foreign land, but somewhere in Wales, not far from Offa’s Dyke. They used to say that one Dafydd Meirig of Bettws Bledrws, having quarrelled with his father left for England. When he had got a considerable distance from home, he struck a bargain with a cattle dealer to drive a herd of his beasts to London. Somewhere on the corner of a vast moor, Dafydd cut a very remarkable hazel stick; for a good staff is as essential to the vocation of a good drover as teeth are to a dog. So while his comrades had had their sticks broken before reaching London, Dafydd’s remained as it was, and whilst they were conversing together on London Bridge a stranger accosted Dafydd, wishing to know where he had obtained that wonderful stick. He replied that in Wales he had had it, and on the stranger’s assuring him that there were wonderful things beneath the tree on which it had grown, they both set out for Wales. When they reached the spot and dug a little they found that there was a great hollow place beneath. As night was spreading out her sable mantle, and as they were getting deeper, what should they find but stairs easy to step, and great lamps illuminating the vast chamber! When they reached the bottom of the stairs, they found themselves near a large table, at one end of which they beheld sitting a tall man of about seven foot. He occupied an old-fashioned chair and rested his head on his left hand, while the other hand, all red, lay on the table and grasped a great sword. He was withal enjoying a wondrously serene sleep, and at his feet on the floor lay a big dog. After casting a glance at them, the wizard said to Dafydd: ‘This is Owen Lawgoch, who is to sleep on till a special time, when he will wake and reign over the Brythons. That weapon in his hand is one of the swords of the ancient Kings of Britain.’ Then they moved slowly on, gazing at the wonders of that subterranean chamber; and they beheld everywhere the arms of ages long past, and on the table thousands of gold and silver pieces bearing the images of the different Kings of Britain. They got to understand that it was permitted them to take a handful of each, but not to put any in their purses. They both visited the cave several times, but at last Dafydd put in his purse a little of the gold bearing the image of one of the Owen’s ancestors. But after coming out again they were never able any more to find Owen’s subterranean palace.”
This story of Owen Lawgoch and his sleeping warriors is a version of the well-known Welsh tradition of the enchanted sleep of King Arthur and his Knights.
According to an old Welsh ballad, Owen Lawgoch does not sleep in a cave in Wales, but “tarries in a foreign land”; and Dr. O. T. Lewis, of the University College, addressing the Cardiganshire Antiquarian Society, November 30th, 1910, stated that the garrison at Aberystwyth “was increased in 1369, when Owen Lawgoch with his French auxiliaries were expected from beyond the seas.”