Gwaith Cors Fochno

On the south side of the Dyfi estuary, in the lee of the sand dunes of Ynys Las, was Traeth Maelgwyn: Maelgwyn’s beach.  On the sand dunes we stood and watched the tide rush in. Within minutes the Afon Dyfi grew from a few hundred yards wide to well over a mile. Traeth Maelgwyn vanished with amazing speed.

Once the princes of Wales all gathered at Cors Fochno to see who should be the high king. They came from the North; they came from the South. They all placed their thrones on the waters edge on the South side of the Dyfi. As the tide came in the prince who remained seated for longest would be the king.

But Prince Maelgwyn had a wise old friend Maeldaf Hen. As the contest was beginning Maeldaf ran forward with a special throne for Maelgwyn. It was not a grand wooden throne like those of the other princes. It was a light chair made from the feathers of sea birds. As the sea came in all the other princes had to retreat to avoid being drowned. But Maelgwyn in his special chair rose up on the waters, just as a sea-bird bobs on the waves.

So Maelgwyn became high king of all Wales.  The contest was called Gwaith Cors Fochno and the scene of Maelgwyn’s triumph is called Traeth Maelgwyn, Maelgwyn’s beach, to this very day.

Cader Idris

Looming over the Dovey Estuary was the impressive mountain of Cader Idris: the Chair of Idris.

Idris, he was a great giant. Every night he would go up the mountain and use his chair to gaze on the stars.

I remember my father telling me of climbing Cader Idris by the vertiginous Fox’s Path. I guess this may have been in the last months before the Second World War. He told me of the old man who every day ascended the mountain from Dolgellau with a pony carrying lemonade, and so was able to charge thirsty mountaineers like my father a high price for their refreshment. My father had hurried up and down, pausing only for one swift lemonade. He was not worried about the price, or even the giant Idris. I remembered my father saying: “To spend a night on the summit of Cader, is to return either a poet or a madman.” Father, not prepared to take the chance, had returned before nightfall, and consequently claimed to be neither. But Taliesin too had been drawn to the mountain. So was I, and later in life I spent many nights with Idris.

The Ancients of the World

Another legendary inhabitant of Cos Fochno was a magic toad that was one of the six oldest creatures in the world, and one of the wisest.

An Eagle lived in the woods of Gwernabwy. Sadly his old wife-eagle died, and he was very lonely. He thought it would be good if he could marry an old widow of his own age. He thought he might ask the old Owl of Cwm Cawlyd to be his second wife, but first he decided to ask about her. Now the Eagle had a friend, older than himself, the Stag of Rhedynfre. The Eagle decided to ask him if he knew about the old owl.

The Eagle went to the Stag, who said this: "Do you see this oak beside me? Now it is just a withered stump, with no leaves or branches, but I remember when it was an acorn on the top of the chief tree of this forest. An oak is three hundred years growing, three hundred years in its prime, and three hundred years in returning to the earth. More than sixty years of the last hundred of this oak are passed and the Owl has been old since I first remember her. But I have a friend who is much older than I, the Salmon of Llyn Llifon. Ask him if he knows about the old Owl."

The Eagle went to the Salmon, who said this: "I have a year over my head for every gem on my skin and for every egg in my roe, but the Owl was old when first I remember her. But I have a friend who is much older than I, the Ousel of Cilgwri. Ask him if he knows about the old Owl."

The Eagle found the Ousel sitting on a hard flint, and asked if he knew of the Owl. The Ousel said: "Do you see this flint? It used to be so large it took three hundred yoke of the largest oxen to move it. It has only been worn away by my cleaning my beak upon it every night before going to sleep, and striking the tip of my wing on it after rising in the morning. Yet never have I known the Owl younger or older than she is today. But I have a friend who is much older than I, the Toad of Cors Fochno. Ask him if he knows about the old Owl.

The Eagle went to the Toad, who said this: "I never eat any food but the dust of the earth, and I never eat half enough to satisfy me. Do you see the great hills round this bog? I have seen the place where they stand level ground. I have eaten all the earth they contain, though I eat so little lest all the earth should be consumed before I die. Yet never have I known the Owl anything else but an old grey hag who cried to-whit-to-whoo in the woods in the long winter nights, and scared children with her voice even as she does to-day."

So the Eagle decided to marry the Owl and from Eagle’s courtship we know which are the oldest creatures in the world. They are the Eagle of Gwernabwy, the Stag of Rhedynfre, the Salmon of Llyn Llifon, the Ousel of Cilgwri, the Toad of Cors Fochno, and the Owl of Cwm Cawlyd, and the oldest of them all is the Owl.

I always imagined meeting the wise, old toad deep in the marsh. I never knew what I would ask him. But I never went there for fear of Ceridwen.

Ceridwen

But there were other legendary inhabitants of Cors Fochno. One was Hen Wrach Cors Fochno (the Old Witch of Cors Fochno), who I always took to be the legendary Ceridwen.

Ceridwen, the enchantress, had two children: an ugly son, Morfran and a lovely daughter, Creirwy.

Because Morfran was ugly, Ceridwen wanted to make him wise instead. She made a potion that had to be boiled in her magic cauldron for a year and a day. She got Morda, a blind man, to tend the fire. She used a young boy, Gwion Bach, to stir it. The first three drops of liquid from this potion gave wisdom; the rest was a deadly poison. But on the last night the blind man nearly let the fire go out. Gwion shouted in alarm and Morda put too much wood on the fire, which then flared up. The potion boiled over and three hot drops spilled onto Gwion's thumb, scalding him. Instinctively he put his thumb in his mouth and straight away he knew he had got the wisdom Ceridwen meant for her son.

Gwion knew Ceridwen would be angry, so he ran as fast as he could, but Ceridwen chased him. She nearly caught him, but then, using the power of the potion he turned himself into a hare and got away. But then she became a greyhound. She nearly caught him, but then he tuned into a fish and jumped into the river. But then she became an otter. She nearly caught him, but he leapt from the river, turned into a bird and flew away. But then she became a hawk. She nearly caught him, but then he saw a barn filled with grain. Tired out he flew down and turned into a single grain of corn.  But then she became a hen and started eating the grain. She pecked until all the corn was gone and she knew she had eaten Gwion. But then Ceridwen felt a stirring in her belly and she knew she was expecting a baby. She knew the child must be Gwion so she decided to kill it when it was born. But when the baby was born, he was so beautiful she could not kill him. Instead she put him in a leather bag and threw him into the sea.

Now Gwyddno Garanhir, who once was the king of Cantre’r Gwaelod was reduced to being a poor fisherman. He had a son called Elffin who was very unlucky. On Elffin’s 21^st birthday he was told he could go to his father’s fish-trap and keep what ever was in it. He went to the fish trap and there was not one fish inside. Elffin was indeed unlucky. But then he noticed a leather bag caught in the trap. He looked in the bag and there was a baby boy. He went home and Gwyddno asked how many fish he had got. Elffin said “None” and Gwyddno replied “You are indeed the unluckiest of men.” But then Elffin opened the bag. Gwyddno saw the beautiful baby and declared that he was indeed ‘fair of brow’, in Welsh: Tal Iesyn, so the child was always known as Taliesin. Then Elffin was no longer unlucky, he was loved by Taliesin and together they had many adventures.

“What happened to Morfran?” I asked.

“He was all right,” said father. “He grew up to be a great warrior.”

Twrch Trwyth

I was sure that Cors Fochno, marsh of the pigs, was once the home of the great boar Twrch Trwyth and his seven giant, warlike piglets.

Once there was a prince called Culhwch. His wicked stepmother told him to marry her daughter, but he refused, so she put a spell on him so he could marry no one but Olwen, daughter of a giant called Ysbaddaden.

So Culhwch went to King Arthur’s court at Celliwig in Cornwall and Arthur sent six of his finest warriors to help. They arranged a meeting and Olwen and Culhwch fell in love.

But Ysbaddaden set Culhwch some almost impossible tasks before he was allowed to marry. One was to retrieve a razor, scissors and comb from between the ears of the massive boar Twrch Trwyth, a wicked king who was turned into a great boar for his sins. His seven sons became huge, wild piglets. They went on a rampage and destroyed a third of Ireland.

Arthur's enchanter made himself into a bird and tried to snatch the treasures from the boar, but was poisoned by its bristles and had to fly home. Another of Arthur's men tried to negotiate, but in vain.

Then Twrch Trwyth swam to Cors Fochno. Arthur and his men chased him across Wales until he turned and killed eight of Arthur's warriors, though he was wounded himself. They had another four battles but with no success and great loss of life, and they lost track of the boars.

Then two of Twrch Trwyth's piglets surprised some of Arthur's huntsmen near Ammanford. When Arthur and his men fought back Twrch Trwyth came to defend his sons and then fled into the Brecon Beacons, where three piglets were killed. At Dyffryn Amanw, two more piglets were slain and eventually the last two, but only at great loss.

Then Arthur asked the men of Devon and Cornwall to help and together they drove Twrch Trwyth into the River Severn and grabbed the razor and shears.

Next the boar swam to Cornwall. Arthur followed and the comb was seized and Twrch Trwyth was driven into the sea and never seen again.

Some say he drowned, but I think he swam home. He’s still there, hiding in Cors Fochno. He probably lives at Glanwern farm.

Cors Fochno

Behind Morfa Borth was Cors Fochno – the marsh of the pigs. The marsh was a huge triangular area, some 4,000 acres, bounded by the sea, the River Dovey and the Cambrian Hills. There were occasional ‘islands’ of higher ground, some supporting wind-carved trees. Often there were dark pools of dark peat-stained water.  

I’m sure it is centuries since pigs roamed the bog. In my childhood it was just a source of turf and peat, but pigs there certainly were at the farm just outside the village. I remember being taken to see these champion beasts at Glanwern. As I was just three they were much taller than me, and when, out of curiosity and the hope of food they jumped up, they towered over me like some pink snouted dinosaur.  Held up to see them, I recoiled into my mother’s arms in terror. They had more in common with Twrch Trwyth, the fearsome boar of legend, than a bacon sandwich.

Crows

“You must be in bed by seven, or the crows will get you!”

In my mind’s eye great black birds swooped down, picking up small children and carrying them up to Craig-Yr-Wylfa, the high cliff south of the village. I looked from the window to see if any were nearby.

The Crows were women.

In the old days the people paid their tithe to the church in herring and other fish caught in the bay. But it was always dangerous – especially launching and landing boats through the surf.

Out at sea the litany of lost ships and lost sailors was also long. Enoch James was just 14 when he fell overboard from the Dovey Belle.

The Crows were the widows of 19^th century Borth sailors, for the tithe of herring was dearly won. The women always wore black. Other fishermen would give them a few fish, they would carry turf and they would knit and sew and weave. They would collect cockles and limpets from the rocks. Then they would carry their produce over the hills to Aberystwyth to sell. In the evening you would see a line of sombre figures coming back into the village. There were so many fishermen’s widows they were vital to the local economy.

When the weather is bad you can still see ghostly, black figures on the shore, gazing out to sea.