That of
the Rheidol stands somewhat apart front both, as if, proud of its
own beauty, it disdained the other two for their homeliness. All
three are contained within the compass of a mile.
"And now, I suppose, sir, that our work is done, and we may go back
to where we came from," said my guide, as I stood on the grassy
hill after drinking copiously of the fountain of the Wye.
"We may," said I; "but before we do I must repeat some lines made
by a man who visited these sources, and experienced the hospitality
of a chieftain in this neighbourhood four hundred years ago." Then
taking off my hat, I lifted up my voice and sang:-
"From high Plynlimmon's shaggy side
Three streams in three directions glide;
To thousands at their mouths who tarry
Honey, gold and mead they carry.
Flow also from Plynlimmon high
Three streams of generosity;
The first, a noble stream indeed,
Like rills of Mona runs with mead;
The second bears from vineyards thick
Wine to the feeble and the sick;
The third, till time shall be no more,
Mingled with gold shall silver pour."
"Nice pennillion, sir, I daresay," said my guide, "provided a
person could understand them. What's meant by all this mead, wine,
gold, and silver?"
"Why," said I, "the bard meant to say that Plynlimmon, by means of
its three channels, sends blessings and wealth in three different
directions to distant places, and that the person whom he came to
visit, and who lived on Plynlimmon, distributed his bounty in three
different ways, giving mead to thousands at his banquets, wine from
the vineyards of Gascony to the sick and feeble of the
neighbourhood, and gold and silver to those who were willing to be
tipped, amongst whom no doubt was himself, as poets have never been
above receiving a present."
"Nor above asking for one, your honour; there's a prydydd in this
neighbourhood who will never lose a shilling for want of asking for
it. Now, sir, have the kindness to tell me the name of the man who
made those pennillion."
"Lewis Glyn Cothi," said I; "at least, it was he who made the
pennillion from which those verses are translated."
"And what was the name of the gentleman whom he came to visit?"
"His name," said I, "was Dafydd ab Thomas Vychan."
"And where did he live?"
"Why, I believe, he lived at the castle, which you told me once
stood on the spot which you pointed out as we came up. At any
rate, he lived somewhere upon Plynlimmon."
"I wish there was some rich gentleman at present living on
Plynlimmon," said my guide; "one of that sort is much wanted."
"You can't have everything at the same time," said I; "formerly you
had a chieftain who gave away wine and mead, and occasionally a bit
of gold or silver, but then no travellers and tourists came to see
the wonders of the hills, for at that time nobody cared anything
about hills; at present you have no chieftain, but plenty of
visitors, who come to see the hills and the sources, and scatter
plenty of gold about the neighbourhood."
We now bent our steps homeward, bearing slightly to the north,
going over hills and dales covered with gorse and ling. My guide
walked with a calm and deliberate gait, yet I had considerable
difficulty in keeping up with him. There was, however, nothing
surprising in this; he was a shepherd walking on his own hill, and
having first-rate wind, and knowing every inch of the ground, made
great way without seeming to be in the slightest hurry: I would
not advise a road-walker, even if he be a first-rate one, to
attempt to compete with a shepherd on his own, or indeed any hill;
should he do so, the conceit would soon be taken out of him.
After a little time we saw a rivulet running from the west.
"This ffrwd," said my guide, "is called Frennig. It here divides
shire Trefaldwyn from Cardiganshire, one in North and the other in
South Wales."
Shortly afterwards we came to a hillock of rather a singular shape.
"This place, sir," said he, "is called Eisteddfa."
"Why is it called so?" said I. "Eisteddfa means the place where
people sit down."
"It does so," said the guide, "and it is called the place of
sitting because three men from different quarters of the world once
met here, and one proposed that they should sit down."
"And did they?" said I.
"They did, sir; and when they had sat down they told each other
their histories."
"I should be glad to know what their histories were," said I.
"I can't exactly tell you what they were, but I have heard say that
there was a great deal in them about the Tylwyth Teg or fairies."
"Do you believe in fairies?" said I.
"I do, sir; but they are very seldom seen, and when they are they
do no harm to anybody. I only wish there were as few corpse-
candles as there are Tylwith Teg, and that they did as little
harm."
"They foreshow people's deaths, don't they?" said I.
"They do, sir; but that's not all the harm they do. They are very
dangerous for anybody to meet with. If they come bump up against
you when you are walking carelessly it's generally all over with
you in this world. I'll give you an example: A man returning from
market from Llan Eglos to Llan Curig, not far from Plynlimmon, was
struck down dead as a horse not long ago by a corpse-candle. It
was a rainy, windy night, and the wind and rain were blowing in his
face, so that he could not see it, or get out of its way.
