The people of Llanddewi Brefi told me that there is another tradition still extant in the neighbourhood, which says that as St. David was preaching on this great occasion, a nightingale appeared on the spot, and sang. The music of the bird was so sweet, that the people listened to the nightingale’s song, instead of continuing to give their attention to the sermon. Seeing this, the Holy Saint David rebuked the congregation, and informed them that the nightingale should never again sing in the neighbourhood; and from that day till now the bird has never been heard there. According to the great historian George Owen, there is a different version of this story in Pembrokeshire. “St. David, being seriouse occupied in the night tyme in his divine orizons, was so troubled with the sweete tuninges of the nightingales, as that he could not fasten his minde upon heavenlie cogitacions, as at other tymes, being letted (hindered) by the melodie of the bird, praied unto the Almightie, that from that tyme forward there might never a nightingale sing within his Dioces, and this saieth our women (old wives’ fables), was the cause of confininge of the bird out of this country.”
At Llanio Isaf, in the parish of Llanddewi Brefi are the remains of Loventium, which was a large Roman city. About half a mile from Gogoyan, in the same parish, was once a holy well called Ffynon Ddewi, or St. David’s Well, the water of which, according to tradition, flowed up miraculously when St. David restored to life the son of a widow. The well has now been closed up, and a house stands on the spot. There is another “Ffynon Ddewi,” on the road-side between Aberaeron and Cardigan.
CAIO (CARMARTHENSHIRE).
In the parish of Caio, there is a gold mine which in ancient times was worked by the Romans. It is on the estate of Dolaucothy, and the spot is known as the “Ogofau,” or caves, and part of it is a height, hardly a mountain, that has been scooped out like a volcanic crater by the Romans during their occupation. In this hollow or basin it is said that the five saints named Ceitho, Gwyn, Gwynno, Gwynnoro, and Celynin, who flourished in the sixth century, had retired in a thunderstorm for shelter. They had penetrated into the mine and had lost their way, and taking a stone for a bolster had laid their heads on it and fallen asleep. And there they would remain in peaceful slumber till the return of King Arthur, or till a more godly bishop than has hitherto been should occupy the throne of St. David. When that happens, Merlin himself is to be disenchanted and restore to liberty the dormant saints. An inquisitive woman named Gweno, who, led by the devil, sought to spy on the saintly brotherhood in their long sleep, was punished by losing her way in the passage of the mine. She, likewise, remained in an undying condition, but was suffered to emerge in storm and rain, and in the night, when her vaporous form might be seen about the old Ogofau, and her sobs and moans were heard and frightened many.
Mr. F. S. Price, in his interesting “History of Caio,” says that another legend is that one of these saints appears to have a special commemoration, but under a female appelative in “Ffynon” and “Clochdy Gwenno,” the latter an isolated rock standing up in the midst of the great gold excavations, and marking their depth in that particular place. The well had, in good old times, a high reputation for healing virtues, and that “on an unfortunate day, Gweno was induced to explore the recesses of the cavern beyond a frowning rock, which had always been the prescribed limit to the progress of the bathers. She passed beneath it and was no more seen. She had been seized by some superhuman power, as a warning to others not to invade those mysterious ‘penetralia,’ and still on stormy nights, when the moon is full, the spirit of Gweno is seen to hover over the crag like a wreath of mist.”
ST. GOVAN’S.
About seven miles from Pembroke, and a mile from Bosheston, there is a small chapel of rude masonry half way down the cliff known as St. Govan’s Chapel. It is a seaside building, perched across a fissure in the side of the cliff, and a long flight of steps leading down to it from above. There is a popular belief that these steps cannot be numbered by anyone correctly, or “counted by none both ways alike.” I visited the spot myself in October, 1909. In the east wall of the Chapel a doorway admits into a cleft of the rock in which is a marvellous cell or crevice, “that enables the largest person to turn round therein, and at the same time quite filled by the smallest.” This cavity has been regarded by the superstitious as a miraculous cell, and according to a legend Our Lord on one occasion, when pursued by His enemies, the Jews, sought safety in this neighbourhood. “Passing through a field where men were sowing bailey, He ordered them at once to go for their reaping hooks, and, if any passed that way and inquired after Him, to say that they had seen such an one, but it was in sowing time. The men although they knew not who it was, did as they were bid, fetched their hooks, and lo! on their return, the field was waving with ripe corn. Whilst engaged in the reaping, a band of men accosted them, as was expected, who, having received the appointed answer, gave up the chase in despair. The Lord, meanwhile, had been concealed in this crevice, which had opened to receive Him, and still bears a faint impression of His person.”
