Welsh Folk-Lore Part 42

List! the magpie's hoa.r.s.e 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 superst.i.tion 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.

_Peac.o.c.k_.

The peac.o.c.k'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 hoa.r.s.e That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan under thy battlements.

_Macbeth_, Act i., s. 5.

Thus wrote Shakespeare, giving utterance to a superst.i.tion 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.

G.o.d 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_, _Superst.i.tions_, _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 sh.o.r.e:--

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 sh.o.r.e.

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.