Welsh Folk-Lore Part 25

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

"If the dairy-maid does not make her b.u.t.ter 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 a.s.sumed 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, d.i.c.k, 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 cas.e.m.e.nt 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.)

_Ceridwen and Gwion_ (_Gwiawn_) _Bach's Transformation_.

But a striking instance of rapid transition from one form to another is given in the _Mabinogion_. The fable of Ceridwen's cauldron is as follows:--

"Ceridwen was the wife of Tegid Voel. They had a son named Morvran, and a daughter named Creirwy, and she was the most beautiful girl in the world, and they had another son named Avagddu, the ugliest man in the world. Ceridwen, seeing that he should not be received amongst gentlemen because of his ugliness, unless he should be possessed of some excellent knowledge or strength . . . . ordered a cauldron to be boiled of knowledge and inspiration for her son. The cauldron was to be boiled unceasingly for one year and a day until there should be in it three blessed drops of the spirit's grace.

"These three drops fell on the finger of Gwion Bach of Llanfair Caereinion in Powis, whom she ordered to attend to the cauldron. The drops were so hot that Gwion Bach put his finger to his mouth; no sooner done, than he came to know all things. Now he _transformed himself into a hare_, and ran away from the wrath of Ceridwen. She also _transformed herself into a greyhound_, and went after him to the side of a river. Gwion on this jumped into the river and transformed himself into a fish. She also transformed herself into an otter-b.i.t.c.h, and chased him under the water until he was fain to turn himself into a bird of the air; she, as a hawk, followed him, and gave him no rest in the sky. And just as she was about to swoop upon him, and he was in fear of death, he espied a heap of winnowed wheat on the floor of a barn, and he dropped among the wheat and buried himself into one of the grains. Then she transformed herself into a high-crested black hen, and went to the wheat and scratched it with her feet, and found him and swallowed him."

The tale of Ceridwen, whose fame was such that she can without exaggeration be styled the G.o.ddess of witches, resembles in part the chase of the witch-hare by the black dog, and probably her story gave rise to many tales of transformations.

I now come to another kind of transformation. It was believed by the aged in Wales that witches could not only turn themselves into hares, but that by incantation they could change other people into animals. My friend, the Rev. T. Lloyd Williams, Wrexham, lodged whilst he was at Ystrad Meurig School with a Mrs. Jones, Dolfawr, who was a firm believer in "Rhibo" or Rheibo, or witching, and this lady told my friend the following tales of _Betty'r Bont_, a celebrated witch in those parts.

_A Man turned into a Hare_.

One of the servant men at Dolfawr, some years before Mr. Williams lodged there, laughed at Betty'r Bont's supposed power. However, he lived to repent his folly. One night after he had gone to bed he found that he had been changed into a hare, and to his dismay and horror he saw a couple of greyhounds slipped upon him. He ran for bare life, and managed to elude his pursuers, and in a terrible plight and fright he ran to Dolfawr, and to his bed. This kind of transformation he ever afterwards was subjected to, until by spells he was released from the witch's power over him.

_A Man changed into a Horse_.

Mr. Williams writes of the same servant man who figures in the preceding tale:--"However, after that, she (Betty'r Bont) turned him into a grey mare, saddled him, and actually rode him herself; and when he woke in the morning, he was in a bath of perspiration, and positively declared that he had been galloping all night."

Singularly enough _Giraldus Cambrensis_ mentions the same kind of transformation. His words are:--

"I myself, at the time I was in Italy, heard it said of some districts in those parts, that there the stable-women, who had learnt magical arts, were wont to give something to travellers in their cheese, which transformed them into beasts of burden, so that they carried all sorts of burdens, and after they had performed their tasks, resumed their own forms."--Bohn's Edition, p. 83.

From Brand's _Popular Antiquities_, p. 225, I find that a common name for _nightmare_ was _witch-riding_, and the night-mare, he tells us, was "a spectre of the night, which seized men in their sleep and suddenly deprived them of speech and motion," and he quotes from Ray's Collection of Proverbs:--

"Go in G.o.d's name, so _ride_ no witches."

I will now leave this subject with the remark that people separated by distance are often brought together by their superst.i.tions, and probably, these beliefs imply a common origin of the people amongst whom these myths prevail.

The following tales show how baneful the belief in witchcraft was; but, nevertheless, there was some good even in such superst.i.tions, for people were induced, through fear of being witched, to be charitable.