Folk-Lore of West and Mid-Wales

by Jonathan Ceredig Davies

In another beautiful version of the story which is given by Sikes in his “British Goblins,” it is said that an enamoured farmer had heard of the lake maiden, who rowed up and down the lake in a golden boat, with a golden oar. Her hair was long and yellow, and her face was pale and melancholy. In his desire to see this wondrous beauty, the farmer went on New Year’s Eve to the edge of the lake and in silence, awaited the coming of the first hour of the new year. It came, and there in truth was the maiden in her golden boat, rowing softly to and fro. Fascinated, he stood for hours beholding her, until the stars faded out of the sky, the moon sank behind the rocks, and the cold gray dawn drew nigh; and then the maiden began to vanish from his sight. Wild with passion, he cried aloud to the retreating vision, “Stay! Stay! Be my wife.” But the maiden only uttered a faint cry, and was gone. Night after night the young farmer haunted the shores of the lake, but the maiden returned no more. He became negligent of his person; his once robust form grew thin and wan; his face was a map of melancholy and despair. He went one day to consult a soothsayer who dwelt on the mountain, and this grave personage advised him to besiege the damsel’s heart with gifts of bread and cheese. This counsel commending itself strongly to his Welsh way of thinking, the former set out upon an assiduous course of casting his bread upon the waters—accompanied by cheese. He began on Mid-summer Eve by going to the lake and dropping therein a large cheese and a loaf of bread. Night after night he continued to throw in loaves and cheeses, but nothing appeared in answer to his sacrifices. His hopes were set, however, on the approaching New Year’s Eve. The momentous night arrived at last. Clad in his best array, and armed with seven white loaves and his biggest and handsomest cheese, he set out once more for the lake. Then he waited till mid-night, and then slowly and solemnly dropped the seven loaves into the water, and with a sigh sent the cheese to keep them company. His persistence was at length rewarded. The Lake Lady came in her skiff to where he was, and gracefully stepped ashore. The story then proceeds as in the other versions.

It was once a custom for people to go up to the lake on the first Sunday in August, when its water was supposed to be boiling; and Bishop Edwards, of St. Asaph, informed Professor Sir J. Rhys, that “an old woman from Myddfai, who is now, that is to say in January, 1881, about eighty years of age, tells me that she remembers thousands and thousands of people visiting the Lake of Little Fan on the first Sunday or Monday in August, and when she was young she often heard old men declare that at that time a commotion took place in the lake, and that its waters boiled, which was taken to herald the approach of the Lake Lady and her oxen.”—Celtic Folk Lore—page 15.

A STUDENT WHO HAD FAILED TO PASS HIS EXAMINATIONS TAUGHT BY THE FAIRIES.

Mr. John Jones, of Pontrhydfendigaid, an old man of over 95 years of age, related to me the following story about seven years ago:—

In the 18th century there was a certain clergyman in North Cardiganshire, who was supposed to have been educated by the Fairies.

When he was a boy, his parents were very ambitious to see their son a clergyman, but, unfortunately, the lad either neglected his studies, or was a regular “blockhead,” and always failed to pass his college examinations, to the great regret and disappointment of his father and mother. One day, however, when the boy was roaming about the country (near the banks of the river Rheidol, as far as Mr. Jones could remember the story), he suddenly met three boys, or rather three little men who were not bigger than boys, who took him into some cave and led him along a subterranean passage into the land of the Fairies. The Fairies proved very kind to him, and when they heard his story, they undertook to help him to learn his lessons, so that in course of time he acquired a considerable knowledge of the classics. After spending a certain number of years very happily in Fairy Land, the young man returned to the world of mortals, and to the great joy of his parents passed his examinations now without the least difficulty, and in due time was ordained by the bishop, and became a vicar of a parish north of Aberystwyth, either Llanfihangel, Llancynfelin, or Eglwysfach.

This tale seems to be a version of the Story of Elidorus, which Giraldus Cambrensis heard in the neighbourhood of Swansea during his “Itinerary through Wales,” with Archbishop Baldwin in the year 1188, which is as follows:—

“A short time before our days, a circumstance worthy of note occurred in these parts, which Elidorus, a priest, most strenuously affirmed had befallen himself. When a youth of twelve years, and learning his letters, since, as Solomon says, “The root of learning is bitter, although the fruit is sweet,” in order to avoid the discipline and frequent stripes inflicted on him by his perceptor, he ran away, and concealed himself under the hollow bank of a river. After fasting in that situation for two days, two little men of pigmy stature appeared to him, saying, ‘If you come with us, we will lead you into a country full of delights and sports.’ “Assenting, and rising up, he followed his guides through a path, at first subterraneous and dark, into a most beautiful country, adorned with rivers and meadows, woods and plains, but obscure, and not illuminated with the full light of the sun.” All the days were cloudy, and the nights extremely dark, on account of the absence of the moon and stars. The boy was brought before the King, and introduced to him in the presence of the court; who, having examined him for a long time, delivered him to his son, who was then a, boy. “These men were of the smallest stature, but very well proportioned in their make; they were all of a fair complexion, with luxuriant hair falling over their shoulders like that of women. “They had horses and greyhounds adapted to their size. “They neither ate flesh nor fish, but lived on milk diet, made up into messes with saffron. “They never took an oath, for they detested nothing so much as lies. “As often as they returned from our upper hemisphere, they reprobated our ambition, infidelities, and inconstances; they had no form of public worship, being strict lovers and reverers, as it seemed, of truth. “The boy frequently returned to our hemisphere, sometimes by the way he had first gone, sometimes by another; at first in company with other persons, and afterwards alone, and made himself known only to his mother, declaring to her the manners, nature and state of that people. “Being desired by her to bring a present of gold, with which that region abounded, he stole, while at play with the King’s son, the golden ball with which he used to divert himself, and brought it to his mother in great haste; and when he reached the door of his father’s house, but not unpursued, and was entering it in a great hurry, his foot stumbled on the threshold, and falling down into the room where his mother was sitting, the two pigmies seized the ball which had dropped from his hand, and departed, showing the boy every mark of contempt and derision. “On recovering from his fall, confounded with shame, and execrating the evil counsel of his mother, he returned by the usual track to the subterraneous road, but found no appearance of any passage, though he searched for it on the banks of the river for nearly the space of a year. “But since those calamities are often alleviated by time, which reason cannot mitigate, and length of time alone blunts the edge of our afflictions, and puts an end to many evils, the youth having been brought back by his friends and mother, and restored to his right way of thinking, and to his learning, in process of time attained the rank of priesthood. “Whenever David II., bishop of St. David’s, talked to him in his advanced state of life concerning this event, he could never relate the particulars without shedding tears. “He had made himself acquainted with the language of that nation, the words of which, in his younger days he used to recite, which, as the bishop often had informed me, were very conformable to the Greek idiom. “When they asked for water, they said ‘ydor ydorum,’ which meant bring water, for ‘ydor’ in their language, as well as in Greek, signifies water, from whence vessels for water are caller ‘udriai’; and ‘Dur’ (dwr) also, in the British language (Welsh) signifies water.

“When they wanted salt they said, ‘Halgein ydorum,’ bring salt: salt is called ‘al’ in Greek, and ‘halen’ in British, for that language, from the length of time which the Britons (then called Trojans, and afterwards Britons, from Brito, their leader), remained in Greece after the destruction of Troy, became in many instances, similar to the Greek.... “If a scrupulous inquirer asks my opinion of the relation here inserted, I answer with Augustine, ‘that the Divine miracles are to be admired, not discussed.’ “Nor do I, by denial, place bounds to the Divine Power, nor, by assent, insolently extend what cannot be extended. “But I always call to mind the saying of St. Jerome: ‘You will find,’ says he, ‘Many things incredible and improbable, which nevertheless are true; for nature cannot in any respect prevail against the Lord of nature.’ “These things, therefore, and similar contingencies, I should place, according to the opinion of Augustine, among those particulars which are neither to be affirmed, nor too positively denied.” The above account is of the greatest interest, as it was written 700 years ago, and it also gives the opinion of one who lived in those days, of “these things, and similar contingencies.” It is possible that many of the Fairy Tales throughout the Kingdom, if not throughout the whole of Europe, have been founded on the story of Elidorus, the priest.