Welsh Folk Lore

E >> Elias Owen >> Welsh Folk Lore

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27

Mention has been made of witches taking dead bodies out of their graves
to make use of them in their enchantments, and Shakespeare, in his
description of the witches' cauldron, shows that they threw into the
seething pot many portions of human beings. The first witch in _Macbeth_
says:--

Round about the cauldron go,
In the poisoned _entrails_ throw.

The third witch mentions other things that are thrown into the pot, as:--

Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf,
Witches' mummy, maw and gulf
Of the ravin'd salt-sea shark,
Root of hemlock digged i' the dark,
_Liver of blaspheming Jew_,
Gall of goat, and slips of yew
Sliver'd in the moon's eclipse,
_Nose of Turk_, _and Tartar's lips_,
Finger of birth-strangled babe
Ditch-delivered by a drab.

_Macbeth_, A. IV., S. 1.

It was thought that witches could change themselves, and other people,
into the form of animals. In Wales, the cat and the hare were the
favourite animals into which witches transformed themselves, but they did
not necessarily confine themselves to these animals. They were able to
travel in the air on a broom-stick; make children ill; give maids the
nightmare; curse with madness, animals; bring misfortune on families;
hinder the dairy maid from making butter; and many more imaginary things
were placed to their credit.

The personal appearance of witches, as given by Shakespeare, corresponds
exactly with the Welsh idea of these hags. On this subject the poet
writes:--

What are these
_So wither'd and so wild in their attire_
That look not like the inhabitants o' the earth,
And yet are on't?--Live you? Or are you aught
That man may question? You seem to understand me,
By each at once her chappy fingers laying
Upon her skinny lips:--you should be women,
And yet your beards forbid me to interpret
That you are so.

_Macbeth_, Act I., S. 3.

A striking and pathetic portrait of a witch, taken from _Otway's Orphan_,
Act. II., is given in No. 117 of the _Spectator_. It is so true to life
and apposite to our subject that I will quote it:--

In a close lane, as I pursu'd my journey,
I spy'd a wrinkled hag, with age grown double,
Picking dry sticks, and mumbling to herself.
Her eyes with scalding-rheum were gall'd, and red,
Cold palsy shook her head, her hands seemed wither'd,
And on her crooked shoulders had she wrapt
The tatter'd remnant of an old striped hanging,
Which served to keep her carcass from the cold;
So there was nothing of a piece about her.
Her lower weeds were all o'er coarsely patched,
With different colour'd rags, black, red, white, yellow.
And seem'd to speak variety of wretchedness.

A picture such as this is enough to create sympathy and charity in a
selfish heart, but in those dark days, when faith in witchcraft
prevailed, such a poor old decrepit woman inspired awe, and was shunned
as a malicious evil-doer by all her neighbours.

_Llanddona Witches_.

There is a tradition in the parish of Llanddona, Anglesey, that these
witches, with their husbands, had been expelled from their native
country, wherever that was, for practising witchcraft. They were sent
adrift, it is said, in a boat, without rudder or oars, and left in this
state to the mercy of the wind and the wave. When they were first
discovered approaching the Anglesey shore, the Welsh tried to drive them
back into the sea, and even after they had landed they were confined to
the beach. The strangers, dead almost from thirst and hunger, commanded
a spring of pure water to burst forth on the sands. This well remains to
our days. This miracle decided their fate. The strangers were allowed,
consequently, to land, but as they still practised their evil arts the
parish became associated with their name, and hence the _Witches of
Llanddona_ was a term generally applied to the female portion of that
parish, though in reality it belonged to one family only within its
boundaries.

The men lived by smuggling and the women by begging and cursing. It was
impossible to overcome these daring smugglers, for in their neckerchief
was a fly, which, the moment the knot of their cravats was undone, flew
right at the eye of their opponents and blinded them, but before this
last remedy was resorted to the men fought like lions, and only when
their strength failed them did they release their familiar spirit, the
fly, to strike with blindness the defenders of the law.

The above-mentioned tradition of the coming of these witches to Anglesey
is still current in the parish of Llanddona, which is situated on the
north coast of Anglesey.

It was thought that the witching power belonged to families, and
descended from mothers to daughters. This was supposed to be the case
with the witches of Llanddona. This family obtained a bad report
throughout the island. The women, with dishevelled hair and bared
breasts, visited farm houses and requested charity, more as a right than
a favour, and no one dared refuse them. _Llanddona Witches_ is a name
that is not likely soon to die. Taking advantage of the credulity of the
people, they cursed those whom they disliked, and many were the
endeavours to counteract their maledictions. The following is one of
their curses, uttered at _Y Ffynon Ocr_, a well in the parish of
Llanddona, upon a man who had offended one of these witches:--

Crwydro y byddo am oesoedd lawer;
Ac yn mhob cam, camfa;
Yn mhob camfa, codwm;
Yn mhob codwm, tori asgwrn;
Nid yr asgwrn mwyaf na'r lleiaf,
Ond asgwrn chwil corn ei wddw bob tro.

The English is as follows, but the alliteration and rhythm of the Welsh
do not appear in the translation:--

May he wander for ages many;
And at every step, a stile;
At every stile, a fall;
At every fall, a broken bone;
Not the largest, nor the least bone,
But the chief neck bone, every time.

This curse seemed to be a common imprecation, possibly belonging to that
family. Such was the terror of the _Llanddona Witches_ that if any of
them made a bid for a pig or anything else, in fair or market, no one
else dared bid against them, for it was believed they would witch the
animal thus bought. There were also celebrated witches at Denbigh.
_Bella Fawr_ (Big Bella) was one of the last and most famous of her tribe
in that town, and many other places were credited with possessing persons
endowed with witching powers, as well as those who could break spells.

The following tales of the doings of witches will throw light upon the
matter under consideration.

_Witches transforming themselves into Cats_.

One of the forms that witches were supposed to change themselves into was
that of a cat. In this metamorphosed state they were the more able to
accomplish their designs. The following tale, illustrative of this
belief, was told me by the Rev. R. Jones, Rector of Llanycil, Bala.

On the side of the old road, between Cerrig-y-drudion and
Bettws-y-Coed--long before this latter place had become the resort of
artists--stood an inn, which was much resorted to, as it was a convenient
lodging house for travellers on their way to Ireland. This inn stood
near the present village of Bettws-y-Coed. Many robberies occurred here.
Travellers who put up there for the night were continually deprived of
their money, and no one could tell how this occurred, for the lodgers
were certain that no one had entered their rooms, as they were found
locked in the morning just as they were the night before. The mystery
was, therefore, great. By and by, one of those who had lost his money
consulted _Huw Llwyd_, who lived at Cynvael, in the parish of Festiniog,
and he promised to unravel the mystery. Now, Huw Llwyd had been an
officer in the army, and, equipped in his regimentals, with sword
dangling by his side, he presented himself one evening at the suspected
inn, and asked whether he could obtain a room and bed for the night; he
represented himself as on his way to Ireland, and he found no difficulty
in obtaining a night's lodging. The inn was kept by two sisters of
prepossessing appearance, and the traveller made himself most agreeable
to these ladies, and entertained them with tales of his travels in
foreign parts. On retiring for the night he stated that it was a habit
with him to burn lights in his room all night, and he was supplied with a
sufficient quantity of candles to last through the night. The request,
as Hugh Llwyd was a military man, did not arouse suspicion. Huw retired,
and made his arrangements for a night of watching. He placed his clothes
on the floor within easy reach of his bed, and his sword unsheathed lay
on the bed close to his right hand. He had secured the door, and now as
the night drew on he was all attention; ere long two cats stealthily came
down the partition between his room and the next to it. Huw feigned
sleep, the cats frisked here and there in the room, but the sleeper awoke
not; they chased each other about the room, and played and romped, and at
last they approached Huw's clothes and played with them, and here they
seemed to get the greatest amusement; they turned the clothes about and
over, placing their paws now on that string, and now on that button, and
ere long their paws were inserted into the pockets of his clothes, and,
just as one of the cats had her paw in the pocket that contained Huw
Llwyd's purse, he like lightning struck the cat's paw with his sword.
With terrible screams they both disappeared, and nothing further was seen
of them during the night.

Next morning, only one of the sisters appeared at the breakfast table.
To the traveller's enquiry after the absent lady of the house, her sister
said that she was slightly indisposed, and could not appear.

Huw Llwyd expressed regret at this, but, said he--"I must say good-bye to
her, for I greatly enjoyed her company last night." He would not be
refused, so ultimately he was admitted to her presence. After expressing
his sympathy and regret at her illness, the soldier held out his hand to
bid good-bye to the lady. She put out her left hand; this Huw refused to
take, averring that he had never taken a left hand in his life, and that
he would not do so now. Very reluctantly, and with evident pain, she put
out her right hand, which was bandaged, and this fact cleared up the
mystery connected with the robberies. These two ladies were two witches,
who in the form of cats had robbed travellers who lodged under their
roof. Huw, when he made this discovery said--"I am Huw Llwyd of Cynvael,
and I warn you of the risk you have incurred by your thefts, and I
promise you I will not let you off so easily the next time I have need to
visit you."

The preceding tale is circumstantial, but unfortunately similar tales are
current in other places, as shown by the following quotation:--

"The last instance of national credulity on this head was the story
of the witches of Thurso, who, tormenting for a long time an honest
fellow under the usual form of a cat, at last provoked him so that
one night he put them to flight with his broad sword and _cut off the
leg_ of one less nimble than the rest. On his taking it up, to his
amazement _he found it belonged to a female of his own species_, and
next morning discovered the owner, an old hag, with only the
companion leg to this."

_Brand's Popular Antiquities_, pp. 318-319.

_The Witches' Revenge on Huw Llwyd_.

Several months after the occurrence recorded above of Huw Llwyd, when he
had just started from his home one Sunday morning to go to his Church to
officiate there, for he was the parson of Llan Festiniog, he observed
that the Bettws-y-Coed ladies were approaching his house, and he
perceived that their object was to witch him. He knew full well that as
long as his back was turned towards them he was in their power, but that
when he faced them they could do him no harm; so; to avoid their evil
influence, and to frustrate their designs, he faced them, and walked
backwards every step from Cynvael to the Llan, and in this way he escaped
being injured by his female enemies. But this was not all. Huw Llwyd
knew that when he reached the Church porch he was beyond witchcraft's
reach. Having arrived there he shouted out--"I defy you now, and before
I leave the Church I will make you that you can never again witch
anyone." He was as good as his word, for by his skill in the black art,
he deprived those two ladies, ere he left the Church, of their power to
witch people, and during the rest of their lives they were like other
women.

Huw Llwyd, who was born 1533, and died 1620, was a clergyman, and it was
generally believed that priests could counteract the evils of the enemy
of mankind.

The wide-spread belief of witches being able to transform themselves into
animals is shown in the legends of many countries, and, as in the case of
fairy stories, the same tale, slightly changed, may be heard in various
places. The possibility of injuring or _marking_ the witch in her
assumed form so deeply that the bruise remained a mark on her in her
natural form was a common belief. A tale in certain points like the one
recorded of Huw Llwyd and the witches who turned themselves into cats is
to be heard in many parts of Wales. It is as follows. I quote the main
facts from my friend Mr. Hamer's account of Llanidloes, published in the
_Montgomeryshire Collections_, vol. x., p. 243:--

_A Witch transformed into a Hare injured by one whom she tormented_.

"An old woman, thought to be a witch, was said by a neighbour to be in
the habit of visiting her nightly in the shape of a hare, and that in
consequence she was deprived of her rest. The witch came to her bed, as
a hare, and crossed it, and the tormented one was determined to put an
end to this persecution. For this purpose she procured a hammer, which
she placed under her pillow when she retired to rest. That night the old
witch, unaware of the reception awaiting her, paid her usual visit to her
victim. But the instant she jumped on the bed she received a stunning
blow on the head, and, it need not be added, disappeared. Next morning,
a friend of the persecuted woman, who was in the secret of the whole
case, on some pretext paid the old woman, the supposed witch, a visit,
and she was greatly astonished to find her laid up, suffering from a
frightful black eye, which her visitor believed to be the result of the
blow dealt her with the hammer on the previous night."

_A Witch shot when in the form of a Hare_.

The following tale was told me by the Rev. R. Jones, Rector of
Llanycil:--

An old woman was evicted from a small farm, which she and her family had
held for many years. She was naturally greatly annoyed at such conduct
on the part of the landlord, and of the person who supplanted her.
However, she procured a small cottage close by her late home, and there
she lived. But the interloper did not get on, for she was troubled by a
hare that came nightly to her house. A labouring man, when going to his
work early in the morning, time after time saw a hare going from the farm
towards the cottage occupied by this old woman, and he determined to
shoot this hare. He procured an old gun, and loaded it with pebbles
instead of shot, and awaited the approach of the hare. It came as usual,
the man fired, and the hare rolled over and over, screaming and making a
terrible noise. He, however, did not heed this much, for hares, when
shot, do scream, and so he went to secure the hare, but when he attempted
to seize it, it changed into all shapes, and made horrible sounds, and
the man was so terrified that he ran away, and he was very glad to get
away from the scene of this shocking occurrence. In a few days
afterwards the old woman who occupied the cottage was found dead, and it
was noticed by the woman who laid her out that her arm and shoulder were
riddled with pebbles. It was thought that she was a witch, and that she
had troubled the people who had deprived her of her farm, and that she
did so in the shape of a hare, and no one doubted that the injury
inflicted on the old woman was anything more than the shot of the man,
who supposed that he had killed a hare, when in reality he shot and
killed the old woman. The farmer was never troubled after the death of
the woman whom he had supplanted.

Many variants of this tale are still extant. The parish clerk of
Llangadfan, a mountainous parish in Montgomeryshire, gave me one, which
he located in Nant-yr-eira, but as it is in its main points much like the
preceding, I will not relate it.

_A Witch in the form of a Hare in a Churn_.

In the _Spectator_, No. 117, are these words:--

"If the dairy-maid does not make her butter come so soon as she would
have it, _Moll White_ (a supposed witch) is at the bottom of the
churn."

Until very lately I had thought that the milk only was considered
bewitched if it could not be churned, and not that the witch herself was
at the bottom of the churn. But I have been disabused of this false
notion, for the Rector of Llanycil told me the following story, which was
told him by his servant girl, who figures in the tale. When this girl
was servant at Drws-y-nant, near Dolgelley, one day, the milk would not
churn. They worked a long time at it to no purpose. The girl thought
that she heard something knocking up and down in the churn, and splashing
about. She told her master there was something in the churn, but he
would not believe her; however, they removed the lid, and out jumped a
large hare, and ran away through the open door, and this explained all
difficulties, and proved that the milk was bewitched, and that the witch
herself was in the churn in the shape of a hare.

This girl affirmed that she had seen the hare with her own eyes.

As the hare was thought to be a form assumed by witches it was impossible
for ordinary beings to know whether they saw a hare, or a witch in the
form of a hare, when the latter animal appeared and ran before them along
the road, consequently the hare, as well as the witch, augured evil. An
instance of this confusion of ideas was related to the writer lately by
Mr. Richard Jones, Tyn-y-wern, Bryneglwys.

_A Hare crossing the Road_.

Mr. Jones said that when he was a lad, he and his mother went to Caerwys
fair from the Vale of Clwyd, intending to sell a cow at the fair. They
had not gone far on their way before a large hare crossed the road,
hopping and halting and looking around. His mother was vexed at the
sight, and she said--"We may as well go home, Dick, for no good will come
of our journey since that old witch crosses our path." They went on,
though, and reached Caerwys in safety, but they got no bid for the cow,
although they stayed there all day long.

_A Witch in the form of a Hare hunted by a Black Greyhound_.

The writer has heard variants of the following tale in several parts of
Wales:--

An old woman, credited to be a witch, lived on the confines of the hills
in a small hut in south Carnarvonshire. Her grandson, a sharp
intelligent lad, lived with her. Many gentlemen came to that part with
greyhounds for the purpose of coursing, and the lad's services were
always in requisition, for he never failed in starting a hare, and
whenever he did so he was rewarded with a shilling. But it was noticed
that the greyhounds never caught the hare which the lad started. The
sport was always good, the race long and exciting, but the hare never
failed to elude her pursuers. Scores of times this occurred, until at
last the sportsmen consulted a wise man, who gave it as his opinion that
this was no ordinary hare, but a witch, and, said he--"She can never be
caught but by a black greyhound." A dog of this colour was sought for
far and near, and at last found and bought. Away to the hills the
coursers went, believing that now the hare was theirs. They called at
the cottage for the lad to accompany them and start the prey. He was as
ready as ever to lead them to their sport. The hare was soon started,
and off the dog was slipped and started after it, and the hare bounded
away as usual, but it is now seen that her pursuer is a match for her in
swiftness, and, notwithstanding the twistings and windings, the dog was
soon close behind the distressed hare.

The race became more and more exciting, for hound and hare exerted
themselves to their very utmost, and the chase became hot, and still
hotter. The spectators shout in their excitement--"_Hei! ci du_," ("_Hi!
black dog_,") for it was seen that he was gaining on his victim. "_Hei!
Mam_, _gu_," ("_Hei! grandmother_, _dear_,") shouted the lad, forgetting
in his trouble that his grandmother was in the form of a hare. His was
the only encouraging voice uttered on behalf of the poor hunted hare.
His single voice was hardly heard amidst the shouts of the many. The
pursuit was long and hard, dog and hare gave signs of distress, but
shouts of encouragement buoyed up the strength of the dog. The chase was
evidently coming to a close, and the hare was approaching the spot whence
it started. One single heart was filled with dread and dismay at the
failing strength of the hare, and from that heart came the words--"_Hei!
Mam gu_" ("_Hi! grandmother_, _dear_.") All followed the chase, which
was now nearing the old woman's cottage, the window of which was open.
With a bound the hare jumped through the small casement into the cottage,
but the black dog was close behind her, and just as she was disappearing
through the window, he bit the hare and retained a piece of her skin in
his mouth, but he could not follow the hare into the cottage, as the
aperture was too small. The sportsmen lost no time in getting into the
cottage, but, after much searching, they failed to discover puss. They,
however, saw the old woman seated by the fire spinning. They also
noticed that there was blood trickling from underneath her seat, and this
they considered sufficient proof that it was the witch in the form of a
hare that had been coursed and had been bitten by the dog just as she
bounded into the cottage.

It was believed in England, as well as in Wales, that witches were often
hunted in the shape of hares. Thus in the _Spectator_, No. 117, these
words occur:--

"If a hare makes an unexpected escape from the hounds the huntsman curses
_Moll White_ (the witch)!" "Nay," (says Sir Roger,) "I have known the
master of the pack, upon such an occasion, send one of his servants to
see if _Moll White_ had been out that morning."

In _Yorkshire Legends and Traditions_, p. 160, is a tale very much like
the one which is given above. It is as follows:--

"There was a hare which baffled all the greyhounds that were slipped at
her. They seemed to have no more chance with her than if they coursed
the wind. There was, at the time, a noted witch residing near, and her
advice was asked about this wonderful hare. She seemed to have little to
say about it, however, only she thought they had better let it be, but,
above all, they must take care how they slipped a _black_ dog at it.
Nevertheless, either from recklessness or from defiance, the party did go
out coursing, soon after, with a black dog. The dog was slipped, and
they perceived at once that puss was at a disadvantage. She made as soon
as possible for a stone wall, and endeavoured to escape through a
sheep-hole at the bottom. Just as she reached this hole the dog threw
himself upon her and caught her in the haunch, but was unable to hold
her. She got through and was seen no more. The sportsmen, either in
bravado or from terror of the consequences, went straight to the house of
the witch to inform her of what had happened. They found her in bed,
hurt, she said, by a fall; but the wound looked very much as if it had
been produced by the teeth of a dog, and it was on a part of the woman
corresponding to that by which the hare had been seized by the black
hound before their eyes."

_Early reference to Witches turning themselves into Hares_.

The prevalence of the belief that witches could transform themselves into
hares is seen from a remark made by _Giraldus Cambrensis_ in his
topography of Ireland. He writes:--

"It has also been a frequent complaint, from old times, as well as in
the present, _that certain hags in Wales_, as well as in Ireland and
Scotland, _changed themselves into the shape of hares_, that, sucking
teats under this counterfeit, they might stealthily rob other
people's milk."

_Giraldus Cambrensis_, Bohn's Edition, p. 83.

This remark of the Archdeacon's gives a respectable antiquity to the
metamorphosis of witches, for it was in 1185 that he visited Ireland, and
he tells us that what he records had descended from "old times."

The transformation fables that have descended to us would seem to be
fossils of a pagan faith once common to the Celtic and other cognate
races. It was not thought that certain harmless animals only could
become the temporary abode of human beings. Even a wolf could be human
under an animal form. Thus _Giraldus Cambrensis_ records that a priest
was addressed in Ireland by a wolf, and induced to administer the
consolations of his priestly office to his wife, who, also, under the
shape of a she-wolf was apparently at the point of death, and to convince
the priest that she was really a human being the he-wolf, her husband,
tore off the skin of the she-wolf from the head down to the navel,
folding it back, and she immediately presented the form of an old woman
to the astonished priest. These people were changed into wolves through
the curse of one Natalis, Saint and Abbot, who compelled them every seven
years to put off the human form and depart from the dwellings of men as a
punishment for their sins. (See _Giraldus Cambrensis_, Bohn's Edition,
pp. 79-81.)

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27