by Anne Ross
However, there is a tradition that she made for a lake four miles away, with her two offspring, the Dau Eidion Banawg (the two long-horned oxen) to the lake known as Llyn Dau Ychain (the lake of the two oxen) near Cerrig-y-Drudion, and they all disappeared under the water and were seemingly never again seen. A similar tale is told in the Scottish Highlands (vide Ross, Folklore of the Scottish Highlands p.68ff). There is another version of the tale of the speckled cow concerning her two calves, the long-horned oxen. When they were fully-grown, they were renowned for their strength and they had a unique power of banishing evil spirits, one of which haunted the Church at Cerrig-y-drudion terrorising the local people. After a terrible struggle, the brave oxen managed to overcome the evil one by driving it into the waters of the lake where they themselves were drowned.
The crane
The crane has always held an intense fascination for the Celtic peoples onto whose lands it used to migrate, or which they would encounter on journeys to other countries. This is not in any way a cause of wonder, the bird being of a strange and elegant beauty, its appearance more fitting to the Otherworld than to more mundane surroundings. No longer a resident in the British Isles, this magnificent bird, with its long, slender legs by means of which it is able to run at great speed comparable to that of a horse, inevitably attracted a large body of folklore and superstitious belief. Its small but purposeful head, set on a long, slender neck, its huge drooping wings as it grazed in the grain-fields of Europe and the British Isles — to which it migrated in flocks composed of hundreds of birds — and its buoyant, expressive tail mark it out as one of the wonders of the avian world. Pure white in colour and combining a stunning beauty with so many practical abilities, it is little wonder that the pagan Celtic world and the early Christian peoples alike were deeply awed by this strange migratory creature. In early Ireland it was regarded as one of the forms adopted by a powerful goddess connected with warfare. After the coming of Christianity to the British Isles it would seem to have been held in some affectionate regard by the Church. See Ross, Druids, p.140ff for the story of St Columba and the crane.
In parts of Scotland it was especially closely associated with death and there were several expressions in which the crane was clearly regarded as the agent of death. There is one saying from the eastern Highlands of Scotland: ‘Will he come or will he go, or will he eat the flesh of cranes?’ It is clear from this that to eat the flesh of this bird was forbidden by tabu. It was believed to bring about the immediate end of one whose dying had taken too long. Another interesting means of bringing about the same result was to say: ‘Cran’s flesh or ran’s flesh come out your way.’ ‘Cran’ means crane in Scots and ‘ran’ is for raven. This indicates that it was unlucky to eat the flesh of either of these species. In Wales there were many bird superstitions in the folklore of the people. One of these which has been recorded by Elias Owen (p.321) is the belief held that a crane flying upstream is requesting wet weather. If she flies downstream, she seeks good weather. The same applied to the heron. Another strange belief was that, at the waning of the moon, the crane grew thin, and at its waxing she was fat.
The peacock (paun)
I had not expected to find any peacock lore in Wales, but I came across one legend which held that to hear the bird screeching at night was an omen of impending death. I thought nothing of this until that same night when I entered the bedroom and heard an unearthly noise like a cat in distress. I opened every drawer and cupboard and searched while the noise continued, but could find nothing. Then, on looking out of the window I saw, to my amazement and disquiet, a large and beautiful peacock strutting about our drive and several terrified cats crouching in long grass and up trees. It has never left us and the cats are now devoted to it. If one annoys it, it raises its great wings and tail showing its bright blue feathers and does an elegant dance in front of them. Now they all sit outside together in the sunshine and it is clear that Parry Peacock has come to stay. Where he fits into Welsh bird-lore I am not sure, but he is a colourful addition to our own large complement of wild birds of every kind — and he enjoys their food and then goes to sleep on the garden seat outside my study window.
Other bird beliefs
There were many bird beliefs in Wales. The soul of a dying person was alleged to take on bird form and fly from the mouth of the one whose end was close. A bird tapping on the window was sometimes regarded with superstitious awe, usually portending the death of some member of the family. An owl seen during the day boded ill and often portended death (nor have all these signs and omens entirely disappeared; people perhaps tend to speak less openly about them). This was known as Aderyn corff. When a person was seriously ill and brought to bed it was a widespread belief that the arrival of a bird fluttering its wings against the window of the room in which the afflicted person lay was a sure sign that death was soon to follow. Sometimes the bird not only beat its wings against the window but uttered a strange shrieking noise then and on its departure. The death bird was often believed to be the owl, tawny or screech, and its widespread association with death has made it a creature to be regarded with superstitious fear and often positive dislike. This feeling would of course be enhanced by the fact that the bird is very unpopular with the other birds which tend to attack it.
A crowing hen is supposed to portend death or bad news for a member of a family, or indeed of the entire family. The poor creature who had dared to crow like a cock and therefore displayed unnatural tendencies was immediately killed.
Owen also notes another custom (p.298) which has certainly never come my way in Scotland or indeed anywhere else. If a hen should lay a very small egg, it was to be taken and thrown backwards over the head and over the roof of the house to prevent a death occurring.
There was quite a lot of folklore current in Owen’s time about the habits of rooks who, of course, live in colonies rather than singly, in nests. As we all know, the habits of birds change from time to time and birds will arrive and settle in an area or the grounds of private property apparently at random. Sometimes there is very good reason for this change occurring. For example, a new building is put up on places where birds used to nest; or an old barn or byre is nailed up or destroyed, and year after year the poor birds — martins and swallows, for example — will come back trying to find a place where they can build their nest, eventually giving up and finding some new terrain.
Owen has some interesting stories on this theme: the rook seems to be particularly attached to the colony, where many birds have their nests and lay their eggs there each year. He quoted his own experience while visiting the parkland of a gentleman’s estate where a colony of rooks had apparently resided for generations. It was regarded as a bad omen that the birds suddenly departed carrying their nesting material with them. He was told that this was indeed a very bad omen and signified that ill luck would strike the excellent family who occupied the old premises. Owen went on to visit a friend who lived nearby in another gentry-house which was situated about two miles from the park which had been rejected by the birds. He commented on this phenomenon to the lady of the estate and she responded with a knowing smile. She told him that a strange thing had happened: a colony of rooks had quite taken over all the great trees that surrounded her house. He wished her luck, fully aware that this was where the rooks had settled. Both of the above stories relate to East Denbighshire.
Owen also himself remembers an occasion when a rookery was deserted by the birds shortly before ill-fortune descended upon those who occupied the house round which the trees were growing. The owner observed one morning that his rooks were carrying away their nests to some new home. He asked his servant to follow the rooks and destroy the nests where they had chosen to take them. The seeming act of vandalism was perhaps justified by his hope that the birds, of which he was clearly very fond, would be enticed back to their former home. The nests were destroyed two or three times but the rooks refused to return. They gathered up the remains of the nests that were strew
n on the ground, and rebuilt their nests on the trees which they now regarded as their new home. When it was clear that the birds had no intention of ever returning, the owner gave up. The servant, who had tried to get the birds to return, was not surprised when the ill-fortune, which he had foreseen by the desertion of the birds, struck his master not long afterwards. There was a widespread belief at this time — and indeed such may continue to the present day — that terrible ill-luck would fall upon the owner of a property which had been deserted by rooks in such a seemingly inexplicable way.
The cuckoo (y Gog)
Moving on to the cuckoo, that strange bird beloved of lovers, there are many legends and varied opinions concerning its habits and its chanting of ‘cuckoo, cuckoo’ for hours on end during the early summer months. Its habit, as is well known, of appropriating the nest of another bird in order to lay its own egg and its ruthlessness in forcing out any nestlings it may find already installed there arouses mixed feelings in people. Even its call, which sounds so sweet to those who love it and who are themselves in love, can be jarring on the nerves of others less enamoured of the bird. Sadly, like so many of our migratory species its numbers and times of arrival are changing. Fewer of these birds survive the long flight from foreign lands and their sweet and solitary notes are being heard for shorter periods of time and in fewer areas. There is a great deal of folklore surrounding this strange bird and Wales must have had its full share of these tales.
The wryneck is known as gwas y gog and it often followed the cuckoo and helped rear the large offspring. More commonly the meadow-pipit fulfilled that rôle, but that bird too is becoming less common, as old-fashioned meadows with all their flora and fauna are themselves disappearing; hopefully, however, a more nature-orientated method of farming the land will return and with it many of the birds that have sadly lost ground to the current intensive farming practices.
Apart from its unsocial habit of nesting, the cuckoo has in all other ways remained popular and a great deal of folklore and sayings has grown up round it. One of these mentioned again by E. Owen (p.317ff) refers to the bird’s useful habit of indicating to one unsure of the direction he or she should take when leaving home to try to obtain a more profitable future. The belief was that if the bird after arrival was first heard singing flying towards the east then that would indicate the direction that a person embarking on a journey should take. The same applies to the other three points of the compass. If the cuckoo should arrive before the first hawthorn leaves open it indicates a dry year to follow and a paucity of crops. Owen records various rhymes connected with the cuckoo (p.319 ff) and the habit, which was widely believed to be true, that the cuckoo would suck birds’ eggs to make room for her own as well as pitching out the fledglings. It is said that the cuckoo lays her eggs on the ground, and carries them in her beak while seeking a suitable nest in which to deposit them.
42a Eagle
The eagle (eryr)
The eagle (42a) has always been regarded as king of the birds and his beauty, his stylish aerial antics, powerful beak and keen eyesight make him an impressive bird to watch. A skilful hunter, he ruthlessly descends on his prey from a considerable height and many legends were told about his courage and his powers of intimidation.
He was also associated with healing. Those who had eaten eagle’s flesh were believed to be imbued with the power of healing the common disease of erysipelas. According to the belief of some Welsh people, this power remained for nine generations of the same family. In some areas it was believed that the ability to heal remained with the original healer’s descendants ad infinitum. The same ability applied to the curing of shingles.
42b Kite
The Chained Eagles of Snowdon (Yr Wyddfa)
Eagles were always accredited with oracular powers and were able to foresee disasters and triumphs, peaceful outcomes and impending battles. It was possible to have some insight into their state of mind by their movements according to popular belief. When they were circling in their inimitable manner at a great height, during some crisis or battle, it indicated that victory was assured. If they flew at a low level over the rocks this indicated that the Welsh would be defeated. Sometimes when they cried ceaselessly people thought that they were experiencing the anticipation of disaster followed by mourning. Snowdon is associated with many legends over and above that of the eagles, which is not surprising with its dramatic 3561ft (1085m) height. It is believed that a stone cairn had been built over the tomb of some giant which had been slain by the legendary King Arthur. There is a lake near the summit of Snowdon called Llyn Glaslyn and alleged to be bottomless. It was supposed to be the home of a fearsome monster, the Afanc. This beast, which previously lurked in the river Conwy, was dragged by supernaturally large oxen and dropped into Llyn Glaslyn. The legend has obvious parallels to the legend of the Loch Ness monster in Inverness-shire in Scotland (vide Ross, Druids p.142 ff).
Snakes (nadredd)
It was believed by some in Wales that snakes were possessed of human understanding and could comprehend the conversation of passers-by. One story goes that in Montgomeryshire an old man told his son that once he had seen many snakes basking in the sun, as is their habit. As he passed them he said: ‘I will make you jump tomorrow’. Next day, carrying a stout stick, he came to the spot where the adders had been but they had all disappeared. The following day he passed the same place but without his stick and when the adders turned furiously to attack him, he had to run for his life.
The idea of flying snakes was once known widely in Wales. Their origin was allegedly that when they had drunk a woman’s milk and then eaten the consecrated bread for the holy communion, they were turned into flying serpents or dragon-like creatures, highly dangerous to man. They lurked in various places and made concerted attacks on all who dared to pass that way. One serpent’s den was allegedly on the hill Moel Bentyrch; this was the location of several serpent legends. A stone pillar was erected in order to prevent the wiber, or winged serpent, from committing further devastation in the surrounding countryside. It was decided that the stone should be hung or covered with scarlet material which would have the effect of attracting and working the serpent up into a frenzy, as scarlet was a colour which it could not endure. Iron spikes were stuck into the stone, concealed by the red covering, in order that the hateful creature should, in attacking it, seriously wound or destroy itself on the sharp spikes, by trying to destroy the pillar. It is said to have had several lurking places in the district.
The hare (ysgyfarnog) (43)
The hare has always been widely regarded with superstitious awe often tempered by dislike. There are many traditions current about this delightful animal which seems to combine the qualities of both rabbit and dog. It has a bright intelligence and is often regarded as the companion of or transformation of woman to witch. The woman is often old and wizened. The animal plays an important rôle in Celtic folklore generally and there are some interesting stories and superstitions about it in the folk repertoire of Wales. One such tale is recorded in Folk-Lore; Transactions of the Folklore Society Vol. VII No. 4 December 1986, p.404–5. This interesting little story was contributed by one J. Bagnall Evans, Nant-yr-Eglwys, Whitland, South Wales. His father was vicar of Rhayader and the adjoining parish of Cwmtoyddwr for 23 years. One of his servants, an old man named Thomas Savage, had in his youth been a shepherd and he had amassed a large corpus of legends. One of these told how once he went with a group of people in the small hours and all were taken to a hill north of Rhayader. They were instructed to chase sheep belonging to a neighbour and drive them into one of the disused shafts of a lead mine that was half full of water. While engaged in this shameful ploy, accompanied by the dogs, they suddenly became aware that there was a hare amongst them, which was joining in the ‘sport’. It was more active than any of the dogs and in the words used by Evans’ father, speaking of the hare: ‘it was all spotted and spangled like Jacob’s cattle’. The men, feeling guilty, at once ran for their lives and
scattered. Evans’ father used to insist that he knew it was the Devil in the form of a hare. In the same district the custom of coursing with greyhounds was current, and when the poor, hunted hare escaped they used to say: ‘the old lass has got away’.
43 Brown Hare, Lepus europaeus
Evans also comments that universally in England, it would seem, the hare was spoken of as a female. We do not yet know the origins of the belief which identifies the hare as a witch. The spots and spangles described by the vicar’s servant were ‘so bright that, though the night was very dark, they lighted up dogs and sheep and everything else’. This is one of many stories told in the Celtic countries which regard the hare as having supernatural powers of transformation. For my own experience of such phenomena see Folklore of the Scottish Highlands, Ross, p.73 ff.
