Welsh Folk Lore

E >> Elias Owen >> Welsh Folk Lore

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It is from thirty to forty years ago that I heard the fable I am about to
relate, and the circumstances under which I heard it are briefly as
follows. I was walking towards Bangor from Llanllechid, when I saw a
farmer at work hedging. I stopped to chat with him, and a bramble which
had fastened itself on his trousers gave him a little trouble to get it
away, and the man in a pet said, "Have I not paid thee thy tithe?" "Why
do you say those words, Enoch?" said I, and he said, "Have you not heard
the story?" I confessed my ignorance, and after many preliminary
remarks, the farmer related the following fable:--

The heron, the cat, and the bramble bought the tithe of a certain parish.
The heron bought the hay, mowed it, harvested it, and cocked it, and
intended carrying it the following day, but in the night a storm came on,
and carried the hay away, and ever since then the heron frequents the
banks of the rivers and lakes, looking for her hay that was carried away,
and saying "Pay me my tithe."

The cat bought the oats, cut them, and even threshed them, and left them
in the barn, intending the following day to take them to the market for
sale. But when she went into the barn, early the next morning, she found
the floor covered with rats and mice, which had devoured the oats, and
the cat flew at them and fought with them, and drove them from the barn,
and this is why she is at enmity with rats and mice even to our day.

The bramble bought the wheat, and was more fortunate than the heron and
cat, for the wheat was bagged, and taken to the market and sold, but sold
on trust, and the bramble never got the money, and this is why it takes
hold of everyone and says "Pay me my tithe," for it forgot to whom the
wheat had been sold.

_The Jackdaw_.

This bird is considered sacred, because it frequents church steeples and
builds its nest there, and it is said to be an innocent bird, though
given to carrying off things and hiding them in out-of-the-way places.
When ignorance of a fault is pleaded, it is a common saying--"I have no
more knowledge of the fact than the Devil has of the jackdaw" (see
_Bye-Gones_, Vol. I., 86). The Devil evidently will have nothing to do
with this bird, because it makes its home in the church steeple, and he
hates the church and everything belonging to it.

_The Magpie_.

The magpie was considered a bird of ill-omen. No one liked to see a
magpie when starting on a journey, but in certain parts of
Montgomeryshire, such as the parish of Llanwnog, _if the magpie flew from
left to right it foretold good luck_; in other parts, such as
Llansantffraid, if seen at all, it was considered a sign of bad luck.

However, fortunately, a person could make void this bad luck, for he had
only to spit on the ground, and make a cross with his finger, or stick,
through the spittle, and boldly say--

"Satan, I defy thee,"

and the curse, or bad luck, indicated by the appearance of the magpie,
could not then come.

The number of magpies seen implied different events. It was a common
saying:--

One's grief, two's mirth,
Three's a marriage, four's a birth;

and another rendering of the above heard in Montgomeryshire was:--

One for bad luck,
Two for good luck,
Three for a wedding,
Four for a burying.

Another ditty is as follows:--

One's joy, two's greet (crying),
Three's a wedding, four's a sheet (death).

As stated above, one is grief, or bad luck, if it flies from right to
left, but if from left to right it implied success or joy. So these
various readings can only be reconciled by a little verbal explanation,
but "four's a birth" cannot be made to be an equivalent to "four's a
sheet," a winding sheet, or a burying, by any amount of ingenuity.

Should a magpie be seen stationary on a tree, it was believed that the
direction in which it took its flight foretold either success or disaster
to the person who observed it. If it flew to the left, bad luck was to
follow; if to the right, good luck; if straight, the journey could be
undertaken, provided the bird did not turn to the left whilst in sight,
but disappeared in that direction.

I heard the following tale in Denbighshire:--In days of old, a company of
men were stealthily making their way across the country to come upon the
enemy unawares. All at once they espied a magpie on a tree, and by
common consent they halted to see which way it would take its flight, and
thus foretell the fortune which would attend their journey. One of the
party, evidently an unbeliever in his comrades' superstition, noiselessly
approached the bird, and shot it dead, to the great horror of his
companions. The leader of the party, in great anger, addressed the
luckless archer--"You have shot the bird of fate, and you shall be shot."
The dauntless man said, "I shot the magpie, it is true, but if it could
foretell our fate, why could it not foresee its own?" The archer's
reasoning was good, but I do not know whether people were convinced by
logic in those distant times, any more than they are in ours.

I will relate one other tale of the magpie, which I heard upwards of
twenty years ago in the parish of Llanwnog, Montgomeryshire.

I was speaking to a farmer's wife--whose name it is not necessary to
give, as it has nothing to do with the tale--when a magpie flew across
our view. "Ah!" she ejaculated, "you naughty old thing, what do you want
here?" "I see," said I, "you think she brings bad luck with her." "Oh,
yes," was the response, "I know she does." "What makes you so positive,"
said I, "that she brings bad luck with her?" My question elicited the
following story. My friend commenced:--"You know the brook at the bottom
of the hill. Well, my mother met with very bad luck there, a good many
years ago, and it was in this way--she was going to Newtown fair, on our
old horse, and she had a basket of eggs with her. But, just as she was
going to leave the 'fould,' a magpie flew before her. We begged of her
not to go that day--that bad luck would attend her. She would not listen
to us, but started off. However, she never got further than the brook,
at the bottom of the hill, for, when she got there, the old mare made
straight for the brook, and jerked the bridle out of mother's hand, and
down went the mare's head to drink, and off went the basket, and poor
mother too. All the eggs were broken, but I'm glad to say mother was not
much the worse for her fall. But ever since then I know it is unlucky to
see a magpie. But sir," she added, "there is no bad luck for us to-day,
for _the magpie flew from left to right_."

The magpie was thought to be a great thief, and it was popularly supposed
that if its tongue were split into two with silver it could talk like a
man.

The cry of the magpie is a sign of rain. To man its dreaded notes
indicated disaster, thus:--

Clyw grechwen nerth pen, iaith pi--yn addaw
Newyddion drwg i mi.

List! the magpie's hoarse and bitter cry
Shows that misfortune's sigh is nigh.

If this bird builds her nest at the top of a tree the summer will be dry;
if on the lower branches, the summer will be wet.

_The Owl_.

The hooting of an owl about a house was considered a sign of ill luck, if
not of death. This superstition has found a place in rhyme, thus:--

Os y ddylluan ddaw i'r fro,
Lle byddo rhywun afiach
Dod yno i ddweyd y mae'n ddinad,
Na chaiff adferiad mwyach.
If an owl comes to those parts,
Where some one sick is lying,
She comes to say without a doubt,
That that sick one is dying.

_Peacock_.

The peacock's shrill note is a sign of rain. Its call is supposed to
resemble the word _gwlaw_, the Welsh for rain.

_Pigeon_.

If the sick asks for a pigeon pie, or the flesh of a pigeon, it is a sign
that his death is near.

If the feathers of a pigeon be in a bed, the sick cannot die on it.

_The Raven_.

The raven has ever enjoyed a notoriously bad name as a bird of ill-omen.

He was one of those birds which the Jews were to have in abomination
(Lev., xi., 5-13).

But other nations besides the Jews dreaded the raven.

The raven himself is hoarse
That croaks the fatal entrance of
Duncan under thy battlements.

_Macbeth_, Act i., s. 5.

Thus wrote Shakespeare, giving utterance to a superstition then common.
From these words it would seem that the raven was considered a sign of
evil augury to a person whose house was about to be entered by a visitor,
for his croaking forebode treachery. But the raven's croaking was
thought to foretell misfortune to a person about to enter another's
house. If he heard the croaking he had better turn back, for an evil
fate awaited him.

In Denmark the appearance of a raven in a village is considered an
indication that the parish priest is to die, or that the church is to be
burnt down that year. (_Notes and Queries_, vol. ii., second series, p.
325.) The Danes of old prognosticated from the appearance of the raven
on their banners the result of a battle. If the banner flapped, and
exhibited the raven as alive, it augured success; if, however, it moved
not, defeat awaited them.

In Welsh there is a pretty saying:--

Duw a ddarpar i'r fran.

God provides for the raven.

But this, after all, is only another rendering of the lovely words:--

Your heavenly Father feedeth them.

Such words imply that the raven is a favoured bird. (See p. 304).

_Robin Redbreast_.

Ill luck is thought to follow the killer of dear Robin Redbreast, the
children's winter friend. No one ever shoots Robin, nor do children rob
its nest, nor throw stones at it. Bad luck to anyone who does so. The
little bird with its wee body endeavoured to staunch the blood flowing
from the Saviour's side, and it has ever since retained on its breast the
stain of His sacred blood, and it consequently enjoys a sacred life. It
is safe from harm wherever English is spoken.

There is another legend, which is said to be extant in Carmarthenshire,
accounting for the Robin's _red breast_. It is given in _Bye-Gones_,
vol. i., p. 173, from Mr. Hardwick's _Traditions_, _Superstitions_,
_Folk-lore_, _etc_.:--"Far, far away, is a land of woe, darkness, spirits
of evil, and fire. Day by day does the little bird bear in its bill a
drop of water to quench the flame. So near to the burning stream does he
fly that his dear little feathers are scorched; and hence is he named
Bronchuddyn (qu. Bronrhuddyn), i.e., breast-burned, or breast-scorched.
To serve little children, the robin dares approach the infernal pit. No
good child will hurt the devoted benefactor of man. The robin returns
from the land of fire, and therefore he feels the cold of winter far more
than the other birds. He shivers in brumal blasts, and hungry he chirps
before your door. Oh, my child, then, in pity throw a few crumbs to poor
red-breast."

_The Sea Gull_.

It is believed that when sea gulls leave the sea for the mountains it is
a sign of stormy weather.

A few years ago I was walking from Corwen to Gwyddelwern, and I overtook
an aged man, and we entered into conversation. Noticing the sea gulls
hovering about, I said, there is going to be a storm. The answer of my
old companion was, yes, for the sea gull says before starting from the
sea shore:--

Drychin, drychin,
Awn i'r eithin;

and then when the storm is over, they say one to the other, before they
take their flight back again to the sea:--

Hindda, hindda,
Awn i'r morfa.

which first couplet may be translated:--

Foul weather, foul weather,
Let's go to the heather;

and then the two last lines may be rendered:--

The storm is no more,
Let's go to the shore.

This was the only occasion when I heard the above stanza, and I have
spoken to many aged Welshmen, and they had not heard the words, but every
one to whom I spoke believed that the sea gulls seen at a distance from
the sea was a sign of foul weather.

_The Swallow_.

The joy with which the first swallow is welcomed is almost if not quite
equal to the welcome given to the cuckoo. "One swallow does not make a
summer" is an old saw.

There is a superstition connected with the swallow that is common in
Wales, which is, that if it forsakes its old nest on a house, it is a
sign of ill luck to that house. But swallows rarely forsake their old
nests, and shortly after their arrival they are busily engaged in
repairing the breaches, which the storms of winter or mischievous
children have made in their abodes; and their pleasant twitterings are a
pleasure to the occupants of the house along which they build their
nests, for the visit is a sign of luck.

The flight of the swallow is a good weather sign. When the swallow flies
high in the air, it is a sign of fair weather; when, on the other hand,
it skims the earth, it is a sign of rain.

It was a great misfortune to break a swallow's nest, for--

Y neb a doro nyth y wenol,
Ni wel fwyniant yn dragwyddol.

Whoever breaks a swallow's nest,
Shall forfeit everlasting rest.

_The Swan_.

The eggs of the swan are hatched by thunder and lightning. This bird
sings its own death song.

_The Swift_.

This bird's motions are looked upon as weather signs. Its feeding
regions are high up in the air when the weather is settled for fair, and
low down when rain is approaching.

Its screaming is supposed to indicate a change of weather from fair to
rain.

_Tit Major_, _or Sawyer_.

The Rev. E. V. Owen, Vicar of Llwydiarth, Montgomeryshire, told me that
the Tit's notes are a sign of rain, at least, that it is so considered in
his parish. The people call the bird "Sawyer," and they say its notes
resemble in sound the filing of a saw. A man once said to my friend:--"I
dunna like to hear that old sawyer whetting his saw." "Why not," said
Mr. Owen. "'Cause it'll rain afore morning," was the answer. This bird,
if heard in February, when the snow or frost is on the ground, indicates
a breaking up of the weather. Its sharp notes rapidly repeated several
times in succession are welcome sounds in hard weather, for they show
that spring is coming.

_The Wren_.

The Wren's life is sacred, excepting at one time of the year, for should
anyone take this wee birdie's life away, upon him some mishap will fall.
The wren is classed with the Robin:--

The robin and the wren
Are God's cock and hen.

The cruel sport of hunting the wren on St. Stephen's Day, which the
writer has a dim recollection of having in his boyhood joined in, was the
one time in the year when the wren's life was in jeopardy.

The Rev. Silvan Evans, in a letter to the _Academy_, which has been
reproduced in _Bye-Gones_, vol. vii., p. 206, alludes to this sport in
these words:--

"Something similar to the 'hunting of the wren' was not unknown to the
Principality as late as about a century ago, or later. In the Christmas
holidays it was the custom of a certain number of young men, not
necessarily boys, to visit the abodes of such couples as had been married
within the year. The order of the night--for it was strictly a nightly
performance--was to this effect. Having caught a wren, they placed it on
a miniature bier made for the occasion, and carried it in procession
towards the house which they intended to visit. Having arrived they
serenaded the master and mistress of the house under their bedroom window
with the following doggerel:--

Dyma'r dryw,
Os yw e'n fyw,
Neu dderyn to
I gael ei rostio.

That is:--

Here is the wren,
If he is alive,
Or a sparrow
To be roasted.

If they could not catch a wren for the occasion, it was lawful to
substitute a sparrow (ad eryn to). The husband, if agreeable, would then
open the door, admit the party, and regale them with plenty of Christmas
ale, the obtaining of which being the principal object of the whole
performance."

The second line in the verse, "_Os yw e'n fyw_," intimates that possibly
the wren is dead--"If he is alive." This would generally be the case, as
it was next to impossible to secure the little thing until it had been
thoroughly exhausted, and then the act of pouncing upon it would itself
put an end to its existence.

Perhaps the English doggerel was intended to put an end to this cruel
sport, by intimating that the wee bird belonged to God, was one of His
creatures, and that therefore it should not be abused.

There is a Welsh couplet still in use:--

Pwy bynnag doro nyth y dryw,
Ni chaiff ef weled wyneb Duw.

Whoever breaks a wren's nest,
Shall never see God's face.

This saying protects the snug little home of the wren. Much the same
thing is said of the Robin's nest, but I think this was put, "Whoever
robs a robin's nest shall go to hell."

Another Welsh couplet was:--

Y neb a doro nyth y dryw,
Ni chaiff iechyd yn ei fyw.

Whoever breaks the wren's nest,
Shall never enjoy good health.

Although the robin and the wren were favourites of heaven, still it was
supposed that they were under some kind of curse, for it was believed
that the robin could not fly through a hedge, it must always fly over,
whilst on the other hand, the wren could not fly over a hedge, but it was
obliged to make its way through it. (See Robin, p. 329).

_The Wood Pigeon_.

The thrice repeated notes of five sounds, with an abrupt note at the end,
of which the cooing of the wood pigeon consists, have been construed into
words, and these words differ in different places, according to the state
of the country, and the prevailing sentiments of the people. Of course,
the language of the wood pigeon is always the language of the people
amongst whom he lives. He always speaks Welsh in Wales, and English in
England, but in these days this bird is so far Anglicised that it blurts
out English all along the borders of Wales.

In the cold spring days, when food is scarce and the wood pigeon cold, it
forms good resolutions, and says:--

Yn yr haf
Ty a wnaf;
Gwnaf.

In the summer
I'll make a house;
I will.

However, when the summer has come with flower, and warmth, the wood
pigeon ridicules its former resolution and changes its song, for in June
it forgets January, and now it asks:--

Yn yr ha'
Ty pwy wna'?
Pwy?

In the summer
Who'll make a house?
Who?

For then a house is quite unnecessary, and the trouble to erect one
great. The above ditty was told me by the Rev. John Williams, Rector of
Newtown, a native of Flintshire.

In the English counties bordering upon Wales, such as Herefordshire, the
wood pigeon encouraged Welshmen to drive off Englishmen's cattle to their
homes, by saying:--

Take two cows, Taffy,
Take two cows, Taffy,
Take two.

and ever since those days the same song is used; but another version
is:--

Take two cows Davy,
Take two cows Davy,
Two.

The late Rev. R. Williams, Rector of Llanfyllin, supplied me with the
above, and he stated that he obtained it from Herefordshire.

In the uplands of Denbighshire the poor wood pigeon has a hard time of it
in the winter, and, to make provision for the cold winter days, he, when
he sees the farmer sowing spring seeds, says:--

Dyn du, dyn da,
Hau pys, hau ffa,
Hau ffacbys i ni
Fwyta.

which rendered into English is:--

Black man, good man,
Sow peas, sow beans,
Sow vetches for us
To eat.

Mr. Hugh Jones, Pentre Llyn Cymmer, a farmer in Llanfihangel Glyn Myfyr,
a descendant of the bard Robert Davies, Nantglyn, supplied me with the
preceding ditty.

_The Magpie teaching a Wood Pigeon how to make a nest_.

The wood pigeon makes an untidy nest, consisting of a few bits of twigs
placed one on the other without much care. There is a fable in the Iolo
MSS., p. 159, in Welsh, and the translation appears on page 567 in
English, as follows:--

The magpie, observing the slight knowledge of nest building possessed by
the wood pigeon, kindly undertook the work of giving his friend a lesson
in the art, and as the lesson proceeded, the wood pigeon, bowing, cooed
out:--

_Mi wn_! _Mi wn_! _Mi wn_!

I know! I know! I know!

The instructor was at first pleased with his apt pupil, and proceeded
with his lesson, but before another word could be uttered, the bird
swelling with pride at its own importance and knowledge, said again:--

I know! I know! I know!

The magpie was annoyed at this ignorant assurance, and with bitter
sarcasm said: "Since you know, do it then," and this is why the wood
pigeon's nest is so untidy in our days. In its own mind it knew all
about nest building, and was above receiving instruction, and hence its
present clumsy way of building its nest. This fable gave rise to a
proverb, "As the wood pigeon said to the magpie: 'I know.'"

It is believed that when wood pigeons are seen in large flocks it is a
sign of foul weather.

_Woodpecker_.

The woodpecker's screech was a sign of rain. This bird is called by two
names in Welsh which imply that it foretold storms; as, _Ysgrech y coed_,
the wood screech, and _Caseg y drycin_, the storm mare.

These names have found a place in Welsh couplets:--

"Ysgrech y coed!
Mae'r gwlaw yn dod."

The Woodpecker's cry!
The rain is nigh.

_Bardd Nantglyn_, Robert Davies, Nantglyn, has an englyn to the
woodpecker:--

"I Gaseg y Drycin."

"Och! rhag Caseg, greg rwygiant,--y drycin,
Draw accw yn y ceunant,
Ar fol pren, uwch pen pant,
Cyn 'storm yn canu 'sturmant."

Barddoniaeth R. Davies, p. 61.

My friend Mr. Richard Williams, Celynog, Newtown, translates this stanza
as follows:--

Ah! 'tis the hoarse note of the Woodpecker,
In yonder ravine,
On the round trunk of a tree, above the hollow,
Sounding his horn before the coming storm.

_Yellow Hammer_. (_Penmelyn yr Eithin_).

There is a strange belief in Wales that this bird sacrifices her young to
feed snakes.

_Ass_.

The stripe over the shoulders of the ass is said to have been made by our
Lord when He rode into Jerusalem on an ass, and ever since the mark
remains.

It was thought that the milk of an ass could cure the "decay," or
consumption. This faith was common fifty years ago in Llanidloes,
Montgomeryshire. I do not know whether it is so now. People then
believed that ass's milk was more nutritious than other kind of food for
persons whose constitutions were weak.

_The Bee_.

The little busy bee has been from times of old an object of admiration
and superstition. It is thought that they are sufficiently sensitive to
feel a slight, and sufficiently vindictive to resent one, and as they are
too valuable to be carelessly provoked to anger, they are variously
propitiated by the cottager when their wrath is supposed to have been
roused. It is even thought that they take an interest in human affairs;
and it is, therefore, considered expedient to give them formal notice of
certain occurrences.

_Buying a Hive of Bees_.

In the central parts of Denbighshire people suppose that a hive of bees,
if bought, will not thrive, but that a present of a hive leads to its
well-doing.

A cottager in Efenechtyd informed the writer that a friend gave her the
hive she had, and that consequently she had had luck with it; but, she
added, "had I bought it, I could not have expected anything from it, for
bought hives do badly." This was in the centre of Denbighshire.

_Time of Bee Swarming_.

The month in which bees swarm is considered of the greatest importance,
and undoubtedly it is so, for the sooner they swarm, the longer their
summer, and therefore the greater the quantity of honey which they will
accumulate. A late swarm cannot gather honey from every opening flower,
because the flower season will have partly passed away before they leave
their old home.

This faith has found expression in the following lines:--

A swarm of bees in May
Is worth a load of hay;
A swarm of bees in June
Is worth a silver spoon;
A swarm of bees in July
Is not worth a fly.

These words are often uttered by cottagers when a swarm takes place in
the respective months named in the lines. It is really very seldom that
a swarm takes place in our days in May, and many a swarm takes place in
July which is of more value than a fly, But however, be this as it may,
the rhyme expresses the belief of many people.

_The Day of Swarming_.

Sunday is the favourite day for bee swarming. Country people say, when
looking at their bees clustering outside the hive, and dangling like a
rope from it, "Oh, they won't swarm until next Sunday," and it is true
that they are often right in their calculations, for bees seem to prefer
the peaceful Day of Rest to all other days for their flight. The kettle
and pan beating are often heard of a Sunday in those parts of the country
where bees are reared. It is possible that the quietness of the day, and
the cessation of every-day noise, is appreciated by the little creatures,
and that this prevailing stillness entices them to take then their flight
from their old home to seek a new one.

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