Place on him his father’s coat;
Lest the fair one find it cold,
Place on her my petticoat.
It is said that the descendants of this family still continue in these neighbourhoods, and that they are easy to be recognized by their light and fair complexion. A similar story is related of the son of the farmer of Braich y Dinas, in Ỻanfihangel y Pennant, and it used to be said that most of the inhabitants of that neighbourhood were formerly of a light complexion. I have often heard old people saying, that it was only necessary, within their memory, to point out in the fair at Penmorfa any one as being of the breed of the Tylwyth, to cause plenty of fighting that day at least.’
The reader may compare with this tale the following, for which I have to thank Mr. Samuel Rhys Williams, whose words I give, followed by a translation:—
Yr oeđ gwr ieuanc o gymydogaeth Drws y Coed yn dychwelyd adref o Beđgelert ar noswaith loergan ỻeuad; pan ar gyfer Ỻyn y Gader gwelai nifer o’r boneđigesau a elwir y Tylwyth Teg yn myned trwy eu chwareuon nosawl. Swynwyd y ỻanc yn y fan gan brydferthwch y rhianod hyn, ac yn neiỻduol un o honynt. Coỻođ y ỻywodraeth arno ei hunan i’r fath rađau fel y penderfynođ neidio i’r cylch a dwyn yn ysbail iđo yr hon oeđ wedi myned a’i galon mor ỻwyr. Cyflawnođ ei fwriad a dygođ y foneđiges gydag ef adref. Bu yn wraig iđo, a ganwyd plant iđynt. Yn đamweiniol, tra yn cyflawni rhyw orchwyl, digwyđođ iđo ei tharo a haiarn ac ar amrantiad diflannođ ei anwylyd o’i olwg ac nis gwelođ hi mwyach, ond đarfod iđi đyfod at ffenestr ei ystafeỻ wely un noswaith ar ol hyn a’i annog i fod yn dirion wrth y plant a’i bod hi yn aros gerỻaw y ty yn Ỻyny Dywarchen. Y mae y trađodiad hefyd yn ein hysbysu đarfod i’r gwr hwn symud i fyw o Đrws y Coed i Ystrad Betws Garmon.
‘A young man, from the neighbourhood of Drws y Coed, was returning home one bright moonlight night, from Beđgelert; when he came opposite the lake called Ỻyn y Gader, he saw a number of the ladies known as the Tylwyth Teg going through their nightly frolics. The youth was charmed at once by the beauty of these ladies, and especially by one of them. He so far lost his control over himself, that he resolved to leap into the circle and carry away as his spoil the one who had so completely robbed him of his heart. He accomplished his intention, and carried the lady home with him. She became his wife, and children were born to them. Accidentally, while at some work or other, it happened to him to strike her with iron, and, in the twinkling of an eye, his beloved one disappeared from his sight. He saw her no more, except that she came to his bedroom window one night afterwards, and told him to be tender to the children, and that she was staying, near the house, in the lake called Ỻyn y Dywarchen. The tradition also informs us that this man moved from Drws y Coed to live at Ystrad near Bettws Garmon.’
The name Ỻyn y Dywarchen, I may add, means the Lake of the Sod or Turf: it is the one with the floating island, described thus by Giraldus, ii. 9 (p. 135):—Alter enim insulam habet erraticam, vi ventorum impellentium ad oppositas plerumque lacus partes errabundam. Hic armenta pascentia nonnunquam pastores ad longinquas subito partes translata mirantur. ‘For one of the two lakes holds a wandering island, which strays mostly with the force of the winds impelling it to the opposite parts of the lake. Sometimes cattle grazing on it are, to the surprise of the shepherds, suddenly carried across to the more distant parts.’ Sheep are known to get on the floating islet, and it is still believed to float them away from the shore. Mr. S. Rhys Williams, it will be noticed, has given the substance of the legend rather than the story itself. I now proceed to translate the same tale as given in Welsh in Cymru Fu (pp. 474–7 of the edition published by Messrs. Hughes and Son, Wrexham), in a very different dress—it is from Glasynys’ pen, and, as might be expected, decked out with all the literary adornments in which he delighted. The language he used was his own, but there is no reason to think that he invented any of the incidents:—‘The farmer of Drws y Coed’s son was one misty day engaged as a shepherd on the side of the mountain, a little below Cwm Marchnad, and, as he crossed a rushy flat, he saw a wonderfully handsome little woman standing under a clump of rushes. Her yellow and curly hair hung down in ringed locks, and her eyes were as blue as the clear sky, while her forehead was as white as the wavy face of a snowdrift that has nestled on the side of Snowdon only a single night. Her two plump cheeks were each like a red rose, and her pretty-lipped mouth might make an angel eager to kiss her. The youth approached her, filled with love for her, and, with delicacy and affection, asked her if he might converse with her. She smiled kindly, and reaching out her hand, said to him, “Idol of my hopes, thou hast come at last!” They began to associate secretly, and to meet one another daily here and there on the moors around the banks of Ỻyn y Gader; at last, their love had waxed so strong that the young man could not be at peace either day or night, as he was always thinking of Bella or humming to himself a verse of poetry about her charms. The yellow-haired youth was now and then lost for a long while, and nobody could divine his history. His acquaintances believed that he had been fascinated: at last the secret was found out. There were about Ỻyn y Dywarchen shady and concealing copses: it was there he was wont to go, and the she-elf would always be there awaiting him, and it was therefore that the place where they used to meet got to be called Ỻwyn y Forwyn, the Maiden’s Grove. After fondly loving for a long time, it was resolved to wed; but it was needful to get the leave of the damsel’s father. One moonlight night it was agreed to meet in the wood, and the appointment was duly kept by the young man, but there was no sign of the subterranean folks coming, until the moon disappeared behind the Garn. Then the two arrived, and the old man at once proceeded to say to the suitor: “Thou shalt have my daughter on the condition that thou do not strike her with iron. If thou ever touch her with iron, she will no longer be thine, but shall return to her own.” The man consented readily, and great was his joy. They were betrothed, and seldom was a handsomer pair seen at the altar. It was rumoured that a vast sum of money as dowry had arrived with the pretty lady at Drws y Coed on the evening of her nuptials. Soon after, the mountain shepherd of Cwm Marchnad passed for a very rich and influential man. In the course of time they had children, and no happier people ever lived together than their parents. Everything went on regularly and prosperously for a number of years: they became exceedingly wealthy, but the sweet is not to be had without the bitter. One day they both went out on horseback, and they happened to go near Ỻyn y Gader, when the wife’s horse got into a bog and sank to his belly. After the husband had got Bella off his back, he succeeded with much trouble in getting the horse out, and then he let him go. Then he lifted her on the back of his own, but, unfortunately, in trying quickly to place her foot in the stirrup, the iron part of the same slipped, and struck her—or, rather, it touched her at the knee-joint. Before they had made good half their way home, several of the diminutive Tylwyth began to appear to them, and the sound of sweet singing was heard on the side of the hill. Before the husband reached Drws y Coed his wife had left him, and it is supposed that she fled to Ỻwyn y Forwyn, and thence to the world below to Faery. She left her dear little ones to the care of her beloved, and no more came near them. Some say, however, that she sometimes contrived to see her beloved one in the following manner. As the law of her country did not permit her to frequent the earth with an earthly being, she and her mother invented a way of avoiding the one thing and of securing the other. A great piece of sod was set to float on the surface of the lake, and on that she used to be for long hours, freely conversing in tenderness with her consort on shore; by means of that plan they managed to live together until he breathed his last. Their descendants owned Drws y Coed for many generations, and they intermarried and mixed with the people of the district. Moreover, many a fierce fight took place in later times at the Gwyl-fabsant at Dolbenmaen or at Penmorfa, because the men of Eifionyđ had a habit of annoying the people of Pennant by calling them Bellisians.’
In a note, Glasynys remarks that this tale is located in many districts without much variation, except in the names of the places; this, however, could not apply to the latter part, which suits Ỻyn y Dywarchen alone. With this account of the fairy wife frequenting a lake island to converse with her husband on shore, compare the Irish story of the Children of Lir, who, though transformed into swans, were allowed to retain their power of reasoning and speaking, so that they used to converse from the surface of the water with their friends on the dry land: see Joyce’s Old Celtic Romances, pp. x, 1–36. Now I return to another tale which was sent me by Mr. William Jones: unless I am mistaken it has not hitherto been published; so I give the Welsh together with a free translation of it:—
Yr oeđ ystori am fab Braich y Dinas a adrođai y diweđar hybarch Elis Owen o Gefn y Meusyđ yn ỻed debyg i chwedl mab yr Ystrad gan Glasynys, sef iđo hudo un o ferched y Tylwyth Teg i lawr o Foel Hebog, a’i chipio i mewn i’r ty drwy orthrech; ac wedi hynny efe a’i perswadiođ i ymbriodi ag ef ar yr un telerau ag y gwnaeth mab yr Ystrad. Ond clywais hen foneđiges o’r enw Mrs. Roberts, un o ferched yr Isaỻt, oeđ lawer hyn na Mr. Owen, yn ei hadrođ yn wahanol. Yr oeđ yr hen wreigan hon yn credu yn nilysrwyđ y chwedl, oblegid yr oeđ hi ‘yn cofio rhai o’r teulu, waeth be’ đeudo neb.’ Dirwynnai ei hedau yn debyg i hyn:—Yn yr amser gynt—ond o ran hynny pan oeđ hi yn ferch ifanc—yr oeđ ỻawer iawn o Dylwyth Teg yn trigo mewn rhyw ogofau yn y Foel o Gwm Ystradỻyn hyd i flaen y Pennant. Yr oeđ y Tylwyth hwn yn ỻawer iawn harđach na dim a welid mewn un rhan araỻ o’r wlad. Yr oeđynt o ran maint yn fwy o lawer na’r rhai cyffredin, yn lan eu pryd tu hwnt i bawb, eu gwaỻt yn oleu fel ỻin, eu ỻygaid yn loyw leision. Yr oeđynt yn ymđangos mewn rhyw le neu gilyđ yn chwareu, canu ac ymđifyru bob nos deg a goleu; a byđai swn eu canu yn denu y ỻanciau a’r merched ifainc i fyned i’w gweled; ac os byđent yn digwyđ bod o bryd goleu hwy a ymgomient a hwynt, ond ni adawent i un person o liw tywyỻ đod yn agos atynt, eithr cilient ymaith o fforđ y cyfryw un. Yrŵan yr oeđ mab Braich y Dinas yn ỻanc harđ, heini, bywiog ac o bryd glan, goleu a serchiadol. Yr oeđ hwn yn hoff iawn o edrych ar y Tylwyth, a byđai yn cael ymgom a rhai o honynt yn aml, ond yn bennaf ag un o’r merched oeđ yn rhagori arnynt oỻ mewn glendid a synwyr; ac o fynych gyfarfod syrthiođ y đau mewn cariad a’u gilyđ, eithr ni fynai hi ymbriodi ag ef, ond ađawođ fyned i’w wasanaeth, a chydunođ i’w gyfarfod yn Mhant—nid wyf yn cofio yr enw i gyd—drannoeth, oblegid nid oeđ wiw iđi geisio myned gydag ef yn ngwyđ y ỻeiỻ. Feỻy drannoeth aeth i fynu i’r Foel, a chyfarfyđođ y rhian ef yn ol ei hađewid, ag aeth gydag ef adref, ac ymgymerođ a’r swyđ o laethwraig, a buan y dechreuođ popeth lwyđo o dan ei ỻaw: yr oeđ yr ymenyn a’r caws yn cynhyđu beunyđ. Hir a thaer y bu’r ỻanc yn ceisio ganđi briodi. A hi a ađawođ, os medrai ef gael aỻan ei henw. Ni wyđai Mrs. Roberts drwy ba ystryw y ỻwyđođ i gael hwnnw, ond hynny a fu, a daeth ef i’r ty un noswaith a galwođ ar ‘Sibi,’ a phan glywođ hi ei henw, hi a aeth i lewygfa; ond pan đaeth ati ei hun, hi a ymfođlonođ i briodi ar yr amod nad oeđ ef i gyffwrđ a hi a haiarn ac nad oeđ boỻt haiarn i fod ar y drws na chlo ychwaith, a hynny a fu: priodwyd hwynt, a buont fyw yn gysurus am lawer o flynyđoeđ, a ganwyd iđynt amryw blant. Y diweđ a fu fel hyn: yr oeđ ef wedi myned un diwrnod i dori baich o frwyn at doi, a tharawođ y cryman yn y baich i fyned adref; fel yr oeđ yn nesu at y gadlas, rhedođ Sibi i’w gyfarfod, a thaflođ ynteu y baich brwyn yn đireidus tu ag ati, a rhag iđo đyfod ar ei thraws ceisiođ ei atal a’i ỻaw, yr hon a gyffyrđođ a’r cryman; a hi a điflannođ o’r golwg yn y fan yn nghysgod y baich brwyn: ni welwyd ac ni chlywyd dim ođiwrthi mwyach.