‘Once on a time a farmer lived at the Rhonđa Fechan: he was unmarried, and as he was walking by the lake early one morning in spring he beheld a young woman of beautiful appearance walking on the other side of it. He approached her and spoke to her: she gave him to understand that her home was in the lake, and that she owned a number of milch cows, that lived with her at the bottom of the water. The farmer fancied her so much that he fell in love with her over head and ears: he asked her on the spot for her hand and heart; and he invited her to come and spend her life with him as his wife at the Rhonđa Fechan. She declined at first, but as he was importunate she consented at last on the following conditions, namely, that she would bring her cattle with her out of the lake, and live with him until he and she had three disputes with one another: then, she said, she and the cattle would return into the lake. He agreed to the conditions, and the marriage took place. They lived very happily and comfortably for long years; but the end was that they fell out with one another, and, when they happened to have quarrelled for the third time, she was heard early in the morning driving the cattle towards the lake with these words:—
Prw dre’, prw dre’, prw’r gwartheg i dre’;
Prw Milfach a Malfach, pedair Ỻualfach,
Alfach ac Ali, pedair Ladi,
Wynebwen drwynog, tro i’r waun lidiog,
Trech ỻyn y waun odyn, tair Pencethin,
Tair caseg đu draw yn yr eithin[11].
And into the lake they went out of sight, and there they live to this day. And some believed that they had heard the voice and cry of Nelferch in the whisper of the breeze on the top of the mountain hard by—many a time after that—as an old story (weđal) will have it.’
From this it will be seen that the fairy wife’s name was supposed to have been Nelferch, and that the piece of water is called after her. But I find that great uncertainty prevails as to the old name of the lake, as I learn from a communication in 1894 from Mr. Ỻewellyn Williams, living at Porth, only some five miles from the spot, that one of his informants assured him that the name in use among former generations was Ỻyn Alfach. Mr. Williams made inquiries at the Rhonđa Fechan about the lake legend. He was told that the water had long since been known as Ỻyn y Forwyn, from a morwyn, or damsel, with a number of cattle having been drowned in it. The story of the man who mentioned the name as Ỻyn Alfach was similar: the maid belonged to the farm of Penrhys, he said, and the young man to the Rhonđa Fechan, and it was in consequence of their third dispute, he added, that she left him and went back to her previous service, and afterwards, while taking the cattle to the water, she sank accidentally or purposely into the lake, so that she was never found any more. Here it will be seen how modern rationalism has been modifying the story into something quite uninteresting but without wholly getting rid of the original features, such as the three disputes between the husband and wife. Lastly, it is worth mentioning that this water appears to form part of a bit of very remarkable scenery, and that its waves strike on one side against a steep rock believed to contain caves, supposed to have been formerly inhabited by men and women. At present the place, I learn, is in the possession of Messrs. Davis and Sons, owners of the Ferndale collieries, who keep a pleasure boat on the lake. I have appealed to them on the question of the name Nelferch or Alfach, in the hope that their books would help to decide as to the old form of it. Replying on their behalf, Mr. J. Probert Evans informs me that the company only got possession of the lake and the adjacent land in 1862, and that ‘Ỻyn y Vorwyn’ is the name of the former in the oldest plan which they have. Inquiries have also been made in the neighbourhood by my friend, Mr. Reynolds, who found the old tenants of the Rhonđa Fechan Farm gone, and the neighbouring farm house of Dyffryn Safrwch supplanted by colliers’ cottages. But he calls my attention to the fact, that perhaps the old name was neither Nelferch nor Alfach, as Elfarch, which would fit equally well, was once the name of a petty chieftain of the adjoining Hundred of Senghenyđ, for which he refers me to Clark’s Glamorgan Genealogies, p. 511. But I have to thank him more especially for a longer version of the fairy wife’s call to her cattle, as given in Glanffrwd’s Plwyf Ỻanwyno, ‘the Parish of Ỻanwynno’ (Pontypriđ, 1888), p. 117, as follows:—
Prw me, prw me,