Legendary Stories of Wales - Illustrated by Honor C. Appleton

By E. M. Wilkie and Honor C. Appleton

This collection, Legendary Stories of Wales is written by E. M. Wilkie, and illustrated with the stunning drawings of Honor Appleton. It contains a total of fifty-seven classic Welsh tales, ‘told through the ages’ – including those inspired by Ancient Greece and Rome, the Celtic past, King Arthur, Chaucer, Shakespeare, Dante, George Eliot, and many more. As Wilkie informs his reader… ‘many of them are well known… some are out-of-the-way tales… and a few, probably, have never been written down before.’

Honor C. Appleton (1879 – 1951), was a master of the trade. During her lifetime, she illustrated over one-hundred-and-fifty books, with her most famous works including Our Nursery Rhyme Book (1912),Charles Perrault’s Fairy Tales (1919), and the collected Stories of Hans Christian Andersen (1922). As her career progressed, she began producing bolder images for literary classics – Legendary Stories of Wales, being a prime example of this progression. Presented alongside the text, Appleton’s enchanting creations serve to further refine and enhance E. M. Wilkie’s folkloric storytelling.

Pook Press celebrates the great ‘Golden Age of Illustration‘ in children’s classics and fairy tales – a period of unparalleled excellence in book illustration. We publish rare and vintage Golden Age illustrated books, in high-quality colour editions, so that the masterful artwork and story-telling can continue to delight both young and old.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Read Books Ltd.
• Release date: Apr 16, 2013
• ISBN: 9781446548387

Book preview

PRONUNCIATION OF WELSH NAMES

As some of the names may look strange to English readers the following hints may be useful:

ch  at the end of a word is like the Scotch ch in ‘loch.’ The sound is not found in English.

dd  is the th sound in ‘then.’

f    by itself is always v.

ff   is English f.

ll   makes a sound not found in English. It is made by pressing the tongue all along the upper front teeth and then trying to hiss.

rh  is not an English sound. It is r with a sigh after it.

th  is like the sound in ‘think.’

w   is usually like the English w ; for example, in ‘Olwen’; but between consonants, and in other positions where it is difficult to pronounce it like the English w, it is a longish u sound ; for example, Annwn, Anoon; Pwyll, Puill.

Part I

THE OLDEST WELSH STORIES

I

PWYLL PRINCE OF ANNWN

PWYLL was Prince of Dyved, and a great man in his own country. He was young and brave and strong and fair to see, and he loved all manner of sport and adventure.

Not far from Narbeth, his chief palace, he had a hunting-lodge at Glyn Cuch. Here sometimes he spent the night, and rose early to go hunting in the great woods that stretched for miles, so far that on the longest chase Pwyll had never come to their farther borders.

One day he and his lords and his huntsmen had set out in the early morning. By midday Pwyll, following his dogs, had outstripped his companions, and found himself alone in a grassy glade which ran into a wide clearing.

Suddenly there ran across the end of the glade a great stag, closely pursued by hounds which were the strangest Pwyll had ever seen, for their coats were shining white and their ears red, and as the sun shone on them through the trees their coats glistened and their ears glowed.

In a moment Pwyll and his own pack reached the clearing. The strange dogs had already brought the stag down, but Pwyll drove them off and set his own on to him. He might have known these were no ordinary beasts, and that it would have been better to leave them alone, but he did not stop to think.

At that moment he was aware of the approach of a tall rider dressed all in grey on a big grey horse. The new-comer drew rein. Pwyll of Dyved, said he, though I know you I give you no greeting, for never till this hour have I seen so discourteous an action as this of yours, beyond belief unprincelike. Be sure that though I will not deign to seek vengeance on you for this day, yet I will cause you to be dishonoured.

Pwyll, who hardly knew what fear meant, suddenly felt both shame and alarm as he looked at the stern face and angry grey eyes of the speaker.

Chieftain, said he, I would gladly make amends for my discourtesy and gain your friendship, if I might.

How will you do that? asked the other.

Do but tell me who you are, that I may find some suitable way, begged Pwyll.

I am a king in my own country, answered the grey rider. Arawn, King of Annwn, am I called.

When Pwyll heard this he knew that he was indeed in danger, for the huntsman he had offended was none other than the King of the Land of Shadows, that strange, unknown country which mortals may not penetrate.

Mighty lord, may the day go well for you, Pwyll made reply. Now, if it be in my power to perform, bid me do anything for you, that I may be at peace with you.

Hear, then, said the other. The kingdom of Annwn is divided between myself and King Havgan, who claims all the land as his. He is for ever trying to make war on me. Now, it has been determined that once a year we must meet in single combat till one shall overcome the other. Once already we have met. A year hence this very day we are to fight again. I would have you go to take my place in that encounter. I can cause you to appear even as I am now, and this day I will send you to Annwn in my stead, and every lord and page—yes, my own Oueen—shall never know that it is not I myself who return from hunting this night.

But how may I succeed in this fight? Pwyll asked.

There is but one way. The first stroke you deal Havgan will wound him. He will then beg you to deal him another that he may be put out of his pain. I yielded to his pleading, and might do so again. But on no account must you be moved, for the second blow makes him whole again. Deal one blow and no other, and the whole land of Annwn shall be mine.

Who shall rule my own land while I am away?

I will take your form and go in your place. No one shall ever know that it is not Pwyll himself who returns to-night to Glyn Cuch. Now we must hasten, for before sundown we must ride to the borders of Annwn.

When the two were within sight of Arawn’s palace they paused, and by his magic Arawn made each appear like the other. Go forward now, he said to Pwyll. There is your home. A year and a day hence we will meet in the woods of Glyn Cuch and take our own shapes.

So they bade each other farewell. Arawn rode back through the woods, while Pwyll, followed by the white hounds, entered Arawn’s palace.

Here he was greeted as the King. Servitors brought him water for washing and wine to refresh himself. They took off the grey hunting-dress and put on a robe of silver. Then they summoned him to meat in a great hall which was furnished with all that the heart of man could desire. Many nobles sat at table with Pwyll, and on his left was the loveliest lady he had ever beheld. She was dressed in shining yellow and wore a circlet of gold on her head, and her voice was gentle and sweet. She greeted him lovingly, taking him to be Arawn; but in speaking to her Pwyll felt shy and awkward, though in all else he was quite at ease.

For a whole year he ruled as King, and so mightily did he enjoy the life he led that the time passed all too quickly.

As the day drew near for his meeting with Havgan all the country was in a state of great excitement. The place appointed for the encounter was at a ford of the river that formed the boundary between the two parts of the kingdom. The two Kings and their armies came to the appointed place, and there one of Arawn’s knights spoke boldly before all the company.

This is no quarrel between peoples, but between our princes; let us therefore swear an oath not to fight among ourselves, but to abide by the outcome of their duel and to follow the one who conquers and swear allegiance to him.

All the rest agreed with a great shout, and Havgan and Pwyll prepared to meet in battle.

From either side of the river they rode at each other, and met in the middle of the ford. Pwyll dealt so mighty a blow with his lance that he pierced the boss of Havgan’s shield and his body-armour and wounded him.

Then Havgan cried: King Arawn, by all you hold most dear, by the love you bear your Queen and your people, I implore you to put me out of my pain. Complete your work and deal me a second and a yet mightier blow.

But Pwyll laughed softly to himself, thinking how easily he might have been moved had he in truth been Arawn. No, King Havgan, he answered, I strike no second blow.

Then Havgan bade his followers bear him from the ford for he knew he would die before sunset.

By one blow Pwyll had conquered all the land of Annwn for his friend and had restored peace between the two kingdoms for ever. He made haste to receive the homage of Havgan’s lords and to settle all matters that seemed necessary; soon after he set off for Glyn Cuch.

In the very spot where they had met before Arawn was waiting Yor him. This time they greeted each other with joy. Pwyll told his story, and each took his own form again.

When they had sworn to be friends for ever they parted, and Pwyll rode towards Narbeth with all speed. Here his people greeted him as if he had been absent but one day, and, though he was overjoyed to be at home once more, he was careful not to show his joy.

Next day he called his councillors, and asked them to tell him how they had found his rule during the past year.

One of the oldest spoke. Prince, said he, never before have you shown such wisdom and good judgment in all matters of government as you have done this year past. Never before have you given your people so large a share in ruling, and never before has the land been so prosperous as it is to-day. We would ask you to continue to rule as you have ruled of late.

Pwyll was glad to hear how well his princedom had fared, and promised to do as his councillors requested. Then, because he was a merry man and because he wanted to share the good news of his alliance with the King of Annwn, he told them the story of the past year, and astonished and rejoiced them beyond measure. So it was that after that day he was called Pwyll, Prince of Annwn, instead of Prince of Dyved.

Between him and Arawn there was always a fast friendship. They used to meet and exchange presents, and sometimes hunted together in the woods of Glyn Cuch, and Arawn promised his help to Pwyll should he ever be in sore need.

Up to this time Pwyll had not-yet met any lady whom he wished to marry, and his people were not a little anxious, for they wanted him to have an heir who should rule them after his death. It happened that on a certain day a feast was held at Narbeth, and between the first and second meals Pwyll walked forth to see his own possessions, and many a great lord attended him. They came to a high mound, and climbed to the top of it. Then one of the company said to Pwyll: There is a strange saying concerning the place where we stand. Should anyone sit here, he shall not go hence till he has received a blow or seen a marvellous sight.

In this goodly company of warriors I have no fear that I shall receive a blow, answered Pwyll, and I would fain meet with some adventure. So he at once sat down on the mound, and the lords stood near.

Not long afterwards they saw a lady coming towards them. She was dressed in a garment of golden cloth, and she rode a white horse which moved at an easy trot, neither loitering nor hastening. Her face was veiled so that none could see it.

Do any of you know who this lady is? Pwyll questioned.

Then, as no one could tell him, he sent his favourite page to ask her her name.

The page went on foot to meet the lady, but she slipped past him, and though he followed as swiftly as he could she was soon far ahead of him.

He returned to Pwyll and told him what had happened. Go to the palace, Pwyll said, get the fleetest horse you can find, and go after her in haste.

But not even on the best horse he could find did the page come near the lady, and yet her horse went on at an equal pace, neither loitering nor hastening. He spurred and galloped furiously, but it was all in vain. When his horse was almost exhausted he returned to Pwyll and said: By no means could I overtake her, yet she seemed to go no faster than at a gentle trot.

Here is some magic, doubtless, Pwyll replied. For to-day we will let it be, and now go and feast.

The next day the same company went again to the mound, and again Pwyll seated himself. This time he had brought his own horse, ready saddled. Once more the lady appeared. Pwyll mounted and spurred to meet her, but she passed him and continued on her way, and no matter how hard he rode he could not overtake her.

When he realized that his horse was almost exhausted and that he himself was very weary he rose in his stirrups and called to her: Lady, for the sake of him you love best, draw rein and tell me who you are.

The lady instantly turned her horse’s head and came back to Pwyll at the same leisurely pace.

It would have been better for your horse and for yourself, Prince, had you made this request sooner, she said, and she threw back her veil as she spoke.

Pwyll gazed at her, and thought he had never seen any other lady so beautiful, not even the Queen of Annwn. My greeting to you, he began, and I beg you will tell me what you purpose that you journey in such haste.

I go on my own quest, and my purpose was to meet you, Pwyll, Prince of Dyved, she replied.

This is for me the most pleasing news. Will you tell me who you are and how I may serve you?

Willingly, she answered. I am Rhiannon, daughter of the aged Heveydd. My own folk seek to have me wed, and have bidden me be ready to marry a husband they shall choose. But I will have no one of their choosing, for of all men I love only you, Prince, and I have vowed that if you will not wed me I will die unwedded. I have come to know your answer.

This then is my answer, cried Pwyll joyfully: If I had all the world to choose from I would wed only you.

Then Rhiannon told him that a year hence he must come to her father’s Court and claim her, and he gave her his promise to do so.

Fare you well in all your ways, my lord, she said; and fail not to come. The wedding feast shall be prepared. Now I must not linger.

She rode away, and Pwyll went back to his companions. They were curious and would have questioned Pwyll, but he turned their inquiries and told no one about Rhiannon till the day when he must prepare to go and claim her. He then chose a hundred knights to ride with him, and he and they were all arrayed with much splendour, and set forth with great rejoicing.

With no less rejoicing were they received at the Court of Heveydd the Ancient. Pwyll thought Rhiannon more lovely than before, and she greeted him most graciously.

At their bridal supper that night Pwyll sat between Heveydd and Rhiannon. The feasting was almost at an end when there came into the great hall where they were seated a handsome young man with auburn hair. He approached Pwyll and saluted him.

Come and be seated and join our feast, stranger, Pwyll said.

But the other remained standing. I come to beg a boon of you, Prince.

At these words Rhiannon half rose from her place, but before she could speak Pwyll answered: Ask on. Whatever you shall ask of me I will grant if it lies in my power to do so.

The young man smiled. Then I ask of you the lady who sits by your side. It is within your power to give her to me since she is betrothed to you.

Pwyll looked dumbly from the young man to Rhiannon. She spoke in a low voice so that no one else might hear, but her tone was very bitter. Too late are you silent, Prince Pwyll. This is the young man to whom they would have wedded me. Gwawl is he called, and he is a great lord. Now, since you have given your word before all this company you must let me go. But I will beg for a year’s grace. And now you must depart. Take this bag and present yourself a year hence this very night at Gwawl’s feast. Come poorly clad, disguised as a minstrel, and beg as a boon for this bag to be filled with food. It is a magic bag and, no matter how much is put in, it can never be full. They will bring more and more food and still the bag will be empty. You must then say that unless the chief in whose honour the feast is made will step into the bag and press down the food it can never be filled. Gwawl will step in. Quickly draw the bag up round him and fasten the strings at the mouth. After that you may do as you will, for he will never get out without your consent. No one shall hinder you. Now be gone, and have patience for a year.

Forthwith Pwyll had to leave the Court of Heveydd, bitterly regretting his rash words.

In a year’s time he returned, in ragged clothes and downtrodden shoes, with a harp slung at his back. He did just as Rhiannon had bidden him, got Gwawl safely into his bag, and was about to carry him from the castle. Every one who met him said: What have you got in that bag? And he answered: A badger. Give him a blow with my staff.

Poor Gwawl soon realized that he would not escape with his life if this treatment went on very long. He called out: Minstrel, release me and I will give you whatever you ask for.

Pwyll said: I would have Rhiannon as my bride and have a promise from you that you will never seek to be revenged on either of us for this day’s work.

Then Gwawl knew that he had been tricked even as he had tricked Pwyll a year ago.

Without more delay Pwyll and Rhiannon were wedded, and though her father sought to keep them with him Pwyll would not wait, but rode away with his wife the very next day.

A year or two passed. Then one day a little son was born to Pwyll and Rhiannon, and there was great rejoicing among all the people of Dyved. But their joy was short-lived, for that very night, although six women were set to watch him as he slept, the little son was stolen away. One by one the watchers had fallen asleep, and when they woke, before it was light, they were terror-stricken, for the child was nowhere to be found.

In her fear one of them thought of a wicked plan. We will say that Rhiannon herself destroyed him, and our word, being the witness of six, will prevail against hers.

Then, to make their story more likely to be believed, they scratched themselves and cut their own arms and smeared Rhiannon’s hands with blood.

As they did so she awoke and asked how the child fared. For answer the watchers cried and wailed, and told her that they had been wounded in trying to