The Mammoth Book of Celtic Myths and Legends

by Peter Berresford Ellis

  “She did not pass here, but is sleeping inside on a flour-sack,” replied the mill.

  The old woman lifted the latch of the mill door and took out a hazel wand and tapped the sleeping Calyphony on the shoulder. The unfortunate girl was immediately changed into stone and the old woman retrieved the long leather bag and went home.

  A year and a day passed and Iney MacKerron’s third daughter, Calyvorra, said to her mother: “Calybrid and Calyphony are not yet home. They must be making great fortunes. Shame on me for sitting here, doing nothing to help you or myself. Bake me a soddag, and I will set off to seek my fortune.”

  Iney MacKerron baked the soddag, the oatmeal cake, and said that her daughter could have the whole soddag but without her blessing or she would remove a piece of it and give her the blessing.

  “I will have your blessing, mother, and you remove a piece of it,” agreed Calyvorra. For she knew the old saying that a blessing will last longer than a morsel of food.

  Then away she went and journeyed until she came to a wood in which was a strange house and an old woman hanging over the gate watching her.

  “Whither away, young girl?”

  “I am off to make my fortune,” replied Calyvorra.

  “Is it work you want? I am in need of a maid to wash me, dress me, clean my cottage and sweep the hearth.”

  “That should be good work for me,” replied Calyvorra.

  “There is one condition, however. When you sweep my hearth you must not peer up the chimney.”

  Well, this aroused Calyvorra’s curiosity but it was no concern to her if the old woman was peculiar or not. So she agreed to take the job.

  The next morning, she rose, washed the old woman, dressed her and the caillagh took herself out. Then Calyvorra cleaned the cottage and swept the hearth. Now, as she was doing so, she thought it would do no harm to take a quick peek up the chimney. And what should she see there? It was the long leather bag of gold which had belonged to her own mother. Down she took it and, without more ado, she set off as fast as she could towards her home.

  As she hurried homewards, she passed a horse in a field and the horse called to her: “Rub me down, young girl, for I haven’t been rubbed, these seven years!”

  Calyvorra stopped immediately. “Oh, you poor horse, I’ll surely rub you down.” She laid down the long leather bag and gave the horse a rub.

  After a while, she went on and saw a sheep covered in a mass of wool. “Shear me, shear me, young girl, for I haven’t had my fleece trimmed, these seven years.”

  Calyvorra stopped immediately. “Oh, you poor sheep, I’ll surely cut your fleece.” She laid down the long leather bag and proceeded to shear the sheep.

  On she went and came across a goat with an ancient tether. “Change my tether, change my tether, young girl, for I haven’t had it changed, these seven years.”

  So Calyvorra stopped immediately. “You poor goat. Of course I’ll change it for you.” And she laid down her long leather bag and proceeded to change the goat’s tether.

  Then along the road she came to a lime-kiln. The kiln cried out: “Clean me, clean me, young girl. I haven’t been cleaned these seven years.”

  Calyvorra stopped immediately. “You poor kiln, of course I’ll clean you.” And she laid down her long leather bag and cleaned the kiln.

  Then she saw a cow heavy with milk. “Milk me, milk me, young girl, for I haven’t been milked these seven years.”

  Calyvorra stopped immediately. “Oh, poor cow, of course you shall be milked.” And she laid down her long leather bag and proceeded to milk the cow.

  By this time, she was ever so tired. She saw a mill. The mill cried out: “Turn me, turn me, young girl, for I haven’t been turned these seven years!”

  “Oh, poor mill,” gasped Calyvorra, fighting off her tiredness, “of course I’ll turn you.” She laid down her long leather bag and proceeded to turn the mill and then, eventually, she went inside, lay down on a flour-sack, and was soon fast asleep.

  Now the caillagh returned home and found that the cottage was empty. The girl was gone. She ran to the chimney and peered up. When she saw that the long leather bag had gone, she flew into a great rage and began to run in the direction Calyvorra had taken.

  When she met the horse she called: “Horse of mine, did you see a young girl with a long leather bag pass this way?”

  “Have I nothing better to do than watch for young girls passing by?” replied the horse. “Seek elsewhere for your information.”

  On she ran until she saw the sheep. “Sheep of mine, did you see a young girl with a long leather bag pass this way?”

  “Have I nothing better to do than watch for young girls passing by?” replied the sheep. “Seek elsewhere for your information.”

  Then the old woman met the goat: “Goat of mine, did you see a young girl with a long leather bag pass this way?”

  “Have I nothing better to do than watch for young girls passing by?” demanded the goat. “Seek elsewhere for your information.”

  The old woman came to the lime-kiln. “Lime-kiln, did you see a girl with a long leather bag pass this way?”

  “Have I nothing better to do than watch for young girls passing by?” replied the kiln. “Seek elsewhere for your information.”

  Then she came to the cow. “Cow, did you see a girl with a long leather bag passing this way?”

  “Have I nothing better to do than watch for young girls passing by?” replied the cow. “Seek elsewhere for your information.”

  Finally, the old woman came to the mill.

  “Mill, did you see a girl with a long leather bag pass this way?”

  The mill said: “Come close, caillagh, so that I may hear clearly what you are asking. Come and whisper into my wheel, where I might hear the clearer.”

  The old woman went up to the wheel and thrust her head forward to whisper into it and just then the mill wheel twisted round and dragged her into its cogs and stone pivots so that she was ground right up and the tiny pieces were washed down the nearby hole in the ground where the water ran. And this hole was called the “Towl Creg y Vuggane” where, some say, you may hear the hag’s cry even to this day.

  The old witch had dropped her hazel wand and the mill called softly: “Calyvorra, Calyvorra, awake.”

  When Calyvorra had awakened, the mill told her to pick up the wand and touch the two stones in the corner of the mill with it. She did so and no one was more surprised than she, when the stones turned into Calybrid and Calyphony, her long-lost sisters.

  The mill then told her to touch the long leather bag with the hazel wand and this she did.

  “Now, no matter how much gold you take out of the bag,” said the mill, “it will never be empty.”

  One more thing the mill told her to do, and that was to burn the hazel wand, so that no one else would grow unhappy by the use of its powers.

  When that was done, Calybrid, Calyphony and Calyvorra set off home, laughing and celebrating their great good fortune.

  At the gate of their home was Iney MacKerron, their mother, who had been crying in her loneliness; hearing their approach, she was waiting to greet them. Great was her joy when she saw her three daughters with Calyvorra bringing with her such great good fortune. That is the story of Poagey Liauyr jeh Caillagh or the Hag’s Long Leather Bag.

  12 The Lossyr-ny-Keylley

  Long, long ago, there was a king of Ellan Vannin whose name was Ascon. Ascon was a fine, just and gentle king, but he was rather poor. He had three fine sons and their names were Bris, Cane and Gil. In spite of his poverty, or perhaps because of it, the king ruled wisely and well and enjoyed the love and affection of his people. In return, he, too, enjoyed life and was contented with his lot.

  What he most enjoyed was the visit of a little bird which came from over the seas and alighted on his windowsill in spring, and sang until the little thing was fit to bust. It was a small golden bird and the king called it Lossyr-ny-Keylley, which is the Manx name for a gold
finch. It came to the castle and stayed a short while, lifting the king’s spirits by its song, and then flew away to the west. The king wished that the bird would stay longer. But it never did.

  The king was in his chamber one day and thinking of the future. Some day, he realized, one of his sons must inherit the kingdom, but his problem was – which one? Who was the worthiest? How could he compensate those who did not become king? There was only one thing he possessed of real value, and that was his golden crown studded with precious jewels and silver mountings. Now, as everyone knows, a crown went with being the king, so whoever inherited the kingdom would have to inherit the crown. But he had three sons and that meant that two of them would have to go without any form of inheritance. Without inheritance, how could they even marry? The Manx saying goes: gyn skeddan, gyn bannish! No herring, no wedding.

  The king wondered whether he ought to divide the kingdom in three but, even if he did so, he could not divide the crown. It would also seem foolish if there were three kings in Ellan Vannin and only one of them ruled with a crown. That would surely be a recipe for disaster?

  It was while he was considering the problem that his three sons, Bris, Cane and Gil came in.

  “We were considering, father,” began Bris, “our future.”

  “We have all reached the age when we should be married,” Cane observed.

  “Therefore we were wondering whether you could find us wives,” added Gil.

  Ascon the king grew very sad. “You have come to me with the very problem that I have been wrestling with, my sons. Because, if you are to marry, you will need some inheritance to keep your wives. Now it is hard to divide this land between you. If one inherits, then the other two will be without.”

  “That’s all right, father,” said Bris cheerfully. “Why not divide the land in three? We do not mind sharing.”

  “If I give you equal parts of the kingdom, the crown cannot be divided; and to be king, one must have the crown. As well as you like each other now, it could eventually lead to war between you, and that I would not have for all the world.”

  The boys assured the old king that they would never go to war with one another. But they did see the logic of what the king was saying. Indeed, what use was a kingdom without a crown? Indeed, the eldest son was already beginning to think – as I am the eldest, why should my younger brothers have the crown? The middle brother was thinking – as I am the brightest, why should my brothers have the crown, when I would make a better king? Only Gil, the youngest, thought that he would not mind if his brothers inherited, for he was young and fit and could surely make his own way in life.

  The old king sat in thought, and then an idea struck him. He would make a test for his sons and whoever passed the test would receive the entire kingdom and the crown.

  “Each year, my sons, there comes to the palace window the Lossyr-ny-Keylley, which sings its heart out before my window. It pleases me, that little goldfinch. But then it flies off to the west. If the little bird stayed with me all year, I would be rested and happy. So, my sons, I shall set you this test. Whoever finds the home of the Lossyr-ny-Keylley, and brings it back to this land, shall inherit my kingdom and my crown.”

  Straightaway, his eldest son, Bris, was boastful. “I can bring the goldfinch back without hardship.”

  “As could I,” added Cane quickly.

  The young brother, Gil, smiled. “I doubt not that either of my brothers could perform this deed. Perhaps, though, I should go with them, because there might be a way of seeking my fortune in the land of the goldfinch.”

  The three brothers made to set out but, as they were poor, they only had one boat. After some discussion, they decided that they would leave the shores of Ellan Vannin together in that one boat.

  That dawn, they set sail westward and, by nightfall of the first day, they spied an island. They came ashore to an hostel and the hostel keeper, a pleasant woman, came forward.

  “Welcome, sons of King Ascon, welcome.”

  The three boys were puzzled.

  “How do you come to know us, for we have not travelled beyond the shore of Ellan Vannin before this day?”

  “I know who you are and where you are bound,” the woman replied.

  “Then you know more than we do, woman,” Bris stated. “For we are looking for the land of the goldfinch and know not where that is.”

  “Tomorrow, as the sun rises, you will sail on until you strike land. Once ashore, you will come to a straight road, but do not take it. Take the small side road that leads south.” The woman smiled. “From then on, your must find your own path.”

  So it happened the next morning they sailed on and, as the woman said, they came to land and a straight road. There they found a path south and, at the place where it began, they met an elderly man.

  “Kys t’ou?” greeted Bris, in the language of Ellan Vannin.

  “Ta shiu cheet!” replied the old man, in the same language. “I am Yn Oallagh. You are those seeking the land of the goldfinch?”

  “What must we do?” nodded Cane.

  “Do you see that chariot there?”

  There was a golden chariot parked nearby with white horses pounding the road with their forefeet.

  “We do,” agreed Gil.

  “Let Bris take the reins. Let Cane take the left side and Gil take the right. Drive on until you find a tall rock. Then dismount and take the spear on the right side and give a blow on it.”

  “Is that all?”

  “For the time being,” smiled the old man mysteriously.

  So they mounted the chariot and Bris flicked the reins and away they went. Sure enough, it was not long before they came to a tall rock. Bris dismounted and examined it, while Gil came forward and took the spear on his side of the chariot. Then he gave a blow on the rock. A large piece fell from it and revealed a great opening, as if into a bottomless hole.

  There, behind them, was the very same man who had directed them. How he had been able to keep up with them, they were unsure.

  “Welcome, sons of the King of Ellan Vannin. This is the road by which you must go to find the land of the goldfinch.”

  Bris peered downwards. “How can we get down there?”

  “I have a rope and may lower you down.”

  “Then do so,” snapped Bris. “Let me down immediately, for I am the eldest and wish to bring back the goldfinch.”

  The old man smiled. “Is there not a saying in Ellan Vannin – ta lane eddyr raa as jannoo?” That meant, there is much between saying and doing.

  Bris flushed in annoyance. “Do you doubt my ability?”

  “You might reach the bottom, Bris. But there are dangers. You might lose your life in the descent.”

  Bris, in annoyance, urged the old man to let him down the rope and he went down and down in the darkness. The rope began to sway and he struck the rocks in the darkness. It frightened Bris and, before long, as he could not see the bottom, he called to be let up.

  Cane was smiling cruelly at his brother’s failure. “You let me down,” he instructed the old man. “I’ll soon find this bird, as I am the cleverest. I’ll give you another saying, old man: ta keeall ommijys ny slooid ny t’ee ec dooinney creeney dy reayll.” That meant that wit was folly, unless a wise man had it to keep, which was a slur on his elder brother.

  The old man said nothing but let him down on the rope. The same thing happened. Cane grew very frightened when the rope began to sway and he started to hit the sides of the rocky hole. He called to be let up.

  Gil, the youngest, was all for turning back with his brothers, but the old man said: “Why not try your luck? There is yet another saying in your country – ta cree doie ny share na kione croutagh.” Now that saying young Gil could not see the meaning of, for it meant that a kind heart was better than a crafty head.

  Now Bris and Cane added their voices to persuade him, thinking that if he brought up the bird, he would it give it to either one of them, as he did not want the kingdom.

&nbs
p; So Gil was let down on the rope and, within moments, he was at the bottom and into a bright wonderful country. He set off along the road and came to a palace.

  “Bannaghtyn,” called a voice in his own language. He looked up and saw a young woman standing at the gates of the palace. “Welcome to you, Gil, son of the King of Ellan Vannin.”

  “There’s a wonder,” remarked Gil. “How do you know my name?”

  “I know you and what has brought you to this land. But there is great hardship in front of you. To find the place of the goldfinch will take you seven years, and to come back to this spot again will take a further seven years.”

  “Why, that’s no use to my brothers, for they are waiting above for me. They will think I am dead and depart. The old man with the rope won’t keep that rope dangling for me to climb back up. I should give up.”

  He was about to turn round and go back when the woman held up her hand to stay him. “You can be there and back in less than a day, if you have a horse. I have a stable full of fine horses and, if you choose the right one, you may travel like the wind.”

  So Gil went into the stable and examined all the horses that were there.

  There were magnificent horses there. But Gil, examining each of them in turn, felt that this one was too short in the leg, another was too tall, another too fretful and so on, until he came across a poor, wretched-looking mare which looked as though it stood in need of a good feed. His heart was filled with sorrow and kindness for the beast, for he felt it surely needed some exercise.

  “This one will do for me,” Gil said. “I shall comb and groom her and she may serve me better than those others.”

  So he set to and combed, cleaned and saddled the mare, then led her out of the stable.

  The woman, waiting outside, was pleased when she saw his choice.

  “Luck is on you, Gil, for that is the best horse in the stable. Truly, a kind heart is better than a crafty head.”

  Gil mounted up and set off across the countryside.

  They had not gone far when suddenly the mare spoke. “Gil, son of the King of Ellan Vannin, what is it that you see around you?”