North Wales Folk Tales for Children

by Fiona Collins

  ‘Did you turn your back to her? Or speak in a way that wasn’t polite?’ he asked.

  Beti looked scared. ‘I didn’t give her milk. Why should I? She comes asking nearly every day. I was busy. I had such a lot to do … do you think she has put a spell on the milk?’ she asked fearfully.

  ‘The milk or the churn. We’ll soon see.’ John poured the bad milk away. Beti washed out the churn, then started again with fresh cream. But once again she could not get the butter to come. Instead the milk turned smelly and bad. They threw it away, for it was not even good enough for the pigs to eat. Beti began to cry.

  But John was thinking. ‘Beti,’ he said, ‘we’ll ask Bella Fawr for help. I’ll go tomorrow. She’ll lift the spell. Don’t worry.’

  A witch to stop a witch: it made sense.

  The next morning, John saddled his big brown horse and left early. In his saddlebag he had thick slices of ham wrapped in paper, a jar of honey, and a new pair of winter socks that Beti had made. He hoped these things would please Bella.

  He also took a black hen in a covered basket, for this was the right thing to give to a white witch.

  He worried all the way about whether Bella would really be able to help.

  But Bella Fawr amazed him. She was large, fierce and not very clean, but she was as sharp as a knife. She put the hen out in her yard with a pleased nod, gave the basket back to John and told him to sit down at her kitchen table.

  She stared at him for a while and then, much to his surprise, began to tell him all about his farm and even the names of his fields.

  ‘Mistress Bella, you’re right. About everything. But how … ?’ John stopped himself from saying any more. It was not a good idea to ask witches to explain things.

  Bella nodded slowly. ‘Do not ask questions about my powers. The only thing you need to know is that I can help you. Listen carefully: you must do exactly as I say.’

  ‘Yes, Mistress, of course,’ John nodded. But Bella was not looking at him. She was looking into the distance. He was sure that, somehow, she was looking at his farm, even though it was half a day’s ride away.

  Then she said, ‘You must put all your animals, every single one, into Gors Goch.’

  Of course, John knew that this was the field in front of his house. A holly tree grew in the corner, which each year gave them branches covered with red berries to make the house bright with Christmas cheer. He did not expect her to know about the tree. But it seemed that nothing was hidden from her.

  ‘When all your animals are in that field, you must go into the field at night, and hide behind the holly tree. Take someone else with you. Not a woman. This is woman’s magic, and if another woman is there it will give the witch more power. At midnight she will come into the field, in pain from the spell I will put on her now. Do not let her see you are there, and watch what happens. She will lift her spell. It is the only way she can get free from mine.’

  John nodded.

  ‘I put this spell on her,’ continued Bella, ‘with this magic and with these words.’

  She stood up, and began to speak in a loud deep voice. ‘I put my spell on the witch who has put a spell on Beti Griffiths’ milk. I put my spell on her evil magic and her evil heart. And I take all her magic away from John Griffiths’ animals: his cows, and his calves, and his sheep, and his lambs, and his horses, his hens and his pigs, and all the creatures that he owns. I take off all spells and all trouble from every one of them.’

  Then Bella sank down in her chair and didn’t say anything more. She looked as though she was half asleep. She didn’t even seem to notice when John got up, thanked her and left. But though making the magic spell had tired her out, it had worked.

  A few days later, John took all his animals into Gors Goch. The cows were unhappy, and turned round and round, mooing loudly. All the other animals seemed calm, in spite of being so crowded together. His brother came to supper, and when it got late he went out with John to the field. They stood in the dark under the holly tree and waited.

  After a long time, they heard the gate open, and someone came into the field, moving in pain. It was the old woman who had made the spell. She stood in the middle of the frightened animals, muttering in a low voice that John could just hear, though he could not make out the words. Then she coughed and spat. After that, she turned and went out of the field.

  John and his brother looked at each other in the dark. They were both shivering, but not because they were cold.

  ‘Look at the cows now,’ said John’s brother. The animals, which had been so nervous and worried, now stood there calm and quiet and peaceful.

  The next day, when Beti went into the dairy, the butter churned easily and the milk stayed sweet. It was the same every day from then on. Bella Fawr had broken the spell. She really was a powerful witch!

  14

  THE PRINCE’S WIZARD

  When Llywelyn the Great was our prince, that was a merry time in North Wales! With his beautiful wife, Siwan, a king’s daughter, he ruled a happy, proud people. Their court in the Conwy valley was entertained by talented musicians, clever poets and brilliant storytellers.

  One year near Christmas time, Llywelyn and Siwan opened a letter from Siwan’s father, King John of England. It said, ‘Come to my palace in London for the Christmas holiday. For twelve days and nights we will have the best of everything!’

  Llywelyn and Siwan told their knights and soldiers and maids and dressmakers, ‘Get ready to travel with us to London!’

  When the prince and princess set out, it was a wonderful sight. Banners waved in the wind, horses stepped out proudly, the lords and ladies, soldiers and servants smiled and waved to the people who came out to cheer them on their way.

  Their procession followed the river Conwy south, away from the sea. But just before they crossed the river at Llanrwst and turned to leave their dear Conwy valley, the prince and princess suddenly had to stop, because out in front of them jumped a strange little man.

  He had long red hair and a long red beard. He wore a ragged brown tunic. His bare hairy legs and big dirty feet stuck out underneath.

  Llywelyn’s soldiers ran forward, in case this wild-looking man was dangerous. But the red-haired little man bowed low, and the prince said to his men, ‘Wait! This is one of my people. He does not mean any harm. Let me hear what he wants to say.’

  The red-haired little man looked at Llywelyn. He said, ‘My Lord, you have many people with you, and you think you have everyone that you need. But you should take me to London with you, too. Then, when you need my help, I will be there.’

  They crossed the river at Llanrwst.

  The soldiers burst out laughing at the idea that their prince needed the help of a funny little man with no trousers!

  But Llywelyn answered the way a prince should answer, ‘Thank you my friend. I cannot really see how you can help, but since you offer to serve me, I gladly accept. But we have no horse for you. How will you travel with us to London?’

  ‘Lord, do not worry. I will run beside you,’ said the little man.

  And to everyone’s astonishment, he did. He ran all the way to London and never seemed tired or got left behind the riders. By the time they reached the king’s palace, even the people who had laughed at him agreed that he was a very unusual man.

  There was a warm welcome from Siwan’s father, King John. There were good stables for the horses and comfortable rooms for the people. When they had all rested after their long journey, there was the first of the twelve Christmas feasts to enjoy.

  Llywelyn and Siwan came into the Great Hall. It was bright with candlelight and loud with chatter. Long tables were set out in the hall and there was a place for everyone. At the High Table, Llywelyn and Siwan sat one on each side of King John. Soldiers, maids, friends and companions were shown to their places at the tables. Even the red-haired, bare-legged man was given a seat, near the kitchen boys.

  Servants brought in food and drink: meat of the best and wine of the fu
ll glass. Everyone ate and drank until their plates were empty and their bellies were full. Then King John turned to his guests from Wales.

  ‘Now,’ he said, ‘it is time for some entertainment.’

  He gave a signal, and a man stepped into the space between the tables. He wore a robe covered with stars and a tall pointed hat. Everyone could see that he was a wizard, and an important one too. He was the King’s Wizard of England.

  He bowed to the king, and looked up at him as if to say, ‘Shall I begin, Your Majesty?’

  The king nodded. The wizard lifted his arm and moved it slowly through the air.

  Suddenly, the space between the tables was filled with water, splashing gently against the tables, while fish leapt over the waves. A fleet of small ships sailed across, with tiny sailors steering the ships and setting the sails. Although the hall was full of water, no one had wet feet. They all laughed and clapped in amazement.

  The wizard waved his arm, and ships, sails, fish and sea were all gone in the blink of an eye.

  Then he moved his arm again. This time a farmyard appeared, with hens and ducks, sheep and goats and black and white cows. Milkmaids ran in with stools and buckets, and sat down to milk the cows. Then they gave fresh milk to the people sitting at the tables. It was delicious! When everyone had drunk, the wizard moved his arm again and everything he had made by magic disappeared.

  There were cheers and shouts, and the wizard bowed low to King John, and then looked at him as if to ask, ‘Did I do well, Your Majesty?’

  The king smiled and nodded. ‘Yes, you have done very well.’

  The wizard bowed again and then, taking no notice of the shouts for more, he walked back into the shadows.

  King John turned to Prince Llywelyn, ‘Did you enjoy the magic?’

  ‘Very much, Your Majesty,’ said Llywelyn.

  ‘Well, I have an idea. I am the host, and I will set out a fine dinner every night of the Christmas Feast. But we can take it in turns to provide the entertainment. My wizard pleased us all tonight. Why don’t you arrange something just as good for tomorrow night, if you can? Do you agree?’

  Llywelyn could hardly refuse. He decided to accept the king’s challenge. He smiled and said, ‘I agree, Your Majesty. Who knows, perhaps the Prince of Wales can show the King of England more magic than he has already.’

  ‘Hmmm,’ said King John, who was not very pleased with this idea. ‘You speak bold words. We will see if you live up to them at tomorrow night’s feast.’

  Llywelyn bowed and left the king’s table, a smile still on his face. But inside he did not feel like smiling. He did not have a royal wizard who could make magic. What was he going to do?

  As he went out of the hall, someone came up to him. It was the red-haired, bare-legged little man.

  ‘My Lord,’ he said, bowing low, as he had done the first time Llywelyn saw him. ‘You need my help, and I will not let you down. Let me be your wizard. You can trust me.’

  Llywelyn could not believe that this ragged little man could help him. But he gave the kind of answer a prince should give, ‘Thank you for your offer. I accept. Come to me tomorrow and I will give you a fine cloak to wear.’

  ‘Oh, no, My Lord,’ said the little man. ‘I will make magic for you just as I am. I do not want different clothes.’

  Llywelyn’s heart sank as he looked at the little man’s torn tunic, his bare feet and hairy legs.

  Everyone in King John’s fine court was going to laugh at this ragged little man. But Llywelyn was a prince, and a prince must trust his people.

  ‘Very well,’ he said. ‘I will see you tomorrow night, then.’

  ‘Yes, My Lord. Don’t worry, I won’t let you down!’

  With these words, the ragged little man bowed and went away, leaving Llywelyn even more worried than before!

  The second night’s feast was as wonderful as the first. But Llywelyn did not eat much. He could not stop thinking about what would happen when people saw his ragged wizard.

  Everyone in King John’s court knew that the prince had agreed to arrange the entertainment, and they wanted to see if he could do as well as their king.

  Llywelyn looked around. At the bottom of the hall, the little red-haired man was waiting. Llywelyn felt a bit sick, but he nodded to his new wizard, hoping that, somehow, it would be all right.

  The ragged red-haired man stepped out into the space between the tables. He did not look like a wizard. As Llywelyn had expected, people began to laugh.

  The little red-haired man bowed to his prince, and looked up at him to ask, ‘Shall I begin, My Lord?’

  Llywelyn nodded. The red-haired man lifted his arm and moved it slowly through the air.

  Suddenly, they were sitting around a sea, with shoals of fish and a fleet of small ships, full of tiny sailors. Although the hall was full of water, no one had wet feet. They all clapped. It was the same magic that the Wizard of England had made.

  The little red-haired man moved his arm, and ships, sails, fish and sea were all gone in the blink of an eye. Then he moved his arm again.

  This time, a forest of tiny trees grew quickly in the space between the tables. Soon their branches hung down over cool glades. Wild pigs trotted in and began to snuffle around between the roots of the trees, searching for acorns. Then there was the sound of a horn, and hunters ran in with dogs and spears. They chased a pig, caught it and killed it. Then they lit a fire in the glade, cut the meat into chunks and cooked it in an iron pot.

  They were sitting around a sea.

  This all happened so quickly that the food was ready almost as soon as the hunt ended. The hunters carried the hot pot to each table and served everyone with stew. Even though they had only just finished a feast, the stew smelled so delicious that everyone tried it, and they all said it tasted wonderful.

  When the pot was empty, the hunters bowed low to Prince Llywelyn, Princess Siwan and King John. Then they picked up their weapons, called their dogs and left the hall. The little red-haired man moved his arm, and the forest disappeared.

  Everyone clapped and cheered as the little man bowed to his prince, looking up at him as if to ask, ‘Are you pleased, My Lord?’

  Llywelyn nodded and smiled. He was delighted.

  King John turned to him and said, ‘Your wizard has pleased everyone.’

  But the king was wrong about that. One person was not pleased. The Wizard of England stepped out in the space between the tables. His face was red with rage. How could this ragged fellow do such great magic – greater than his own?

  In a temper, the wizard pointed at the ragged man, and started to spin a spell. But the red-haired man was quicker. He reached out his arm – and suddenly, the wizard was gone! Instead, a deer stood there, huge antlers on its head, looking around in fear.

  Now the hunters ran in again, surrounded the deer and killed it. There was a gasp of horror from the people in the hall. But the hunters took no notice. They took out their knives and skinned the deer. They gave the deerskin to the ragged man. Then he moved his arm. The hunters and the body of the deer disappeared. But the red-haired man still held the deerskin. He lifted it high in the air. Then he dropped it.

  Before it could touch the floor, it changed. The Wizard of England stood there, with a very puzzled look on his face. Everyone shouted with relief, and then began to clap and cheer for the red-haired man’s magic. A kind servant took the confused wizard by the arm and led him away. The ragged man bowed low, then walked quietly out of the hall.

  King John turned to Llywelyn and Siwan and said, ‘Your Welsh wizard has done well. I can see we will have good entertainment every night!’

  ‘Your Majesty,’ said Siwan, ‘we will enjoy your English magic as much as you will enjoy our Welsh magic. Please ask your wizard to come back tomorrow. Tell him I am looking forward to seeing him again.’

  So each night, the wizards took turns to show off their marvellous magic.

  When he was not busy entertaining the English court, the
ragged man made a magic palace for Llywelyn and Siwan, with fountains, pools and gardens, and forests full of singing birds. They stayed there happily all through the holiday, until the twelve days of Christmas were over, and it was time to come home to Wales.

  Then King John asked, ‘Will you give me your palace? After all, you can’t take it back to Wales with you!’

  But the red-haired man opened his hand and pulled the palace, the garden, the pools, the fountains and the forests into a little lump no bigger than a nut. Siwan smiled and put it in her pocket. And then they all came back to Wales.

  At last they saw their dear Conwy valley, and knew they were nearly home. When they had crossed the river Conwy, the red-haired man came to Llywelyn and bowed low.

  ‘I will say goodbye now, My Lord,’ he said. ‘You do not need me anymore.’

  ‘Don’t go!’ said Llywelyn. ‘Come to our palace. You will have a place of honour there.’

  ‘Thank you, My Lord, but no. My home is in the forest. I came when you needed me, and now that you do not need me anymore, I am going home.’

  And the little red-haired, bare-legged man turned and disappeared among the trees.

  Llywelyn and Siwan never saw him again. But they never forgot him. Every Christmas they asked their storyteller to tell the story of the prince’s wizard. It was Siwan’s favourite story.

  15

  THE KING OF

  THE GIANTS

  Once upon a time, when kings were kings and giants were really big, the King of the Giants had his court on the banks of the river Alyn, near where the town of Wrexham is now.

  The giant’s court was famous for feasts, entertainments and tournaments. Knights came from far and near to take part in jousting competitions and prove their strength. The prizes were fantastic, too: bags of gold for the winners, as well as a celebration feast and a special praise song about you, composed by the Giant Bard.

  King Arthur’s court at Camelot was not far from the giant’s court, and one day Arthur called for five of his best knights.