Many centuries ago, back in the 1100's, there
lived at Blaen Sawdde, Llanddeusant, the widow of a farmer.
Her husband had been slain in the fierce struggles for Welsh
independence. Although she was left alone with one young son
to bring up, fortune smiled on her and the farm prospered.
Llanddeusant is situated on the north western slopes of the
Black Mountain , and it was the custom to use the mountain
for summer grazing. When he had grown to manhood, the widow
entrusted the cattle to the care of her son. Blaen Sawdde
being next to the open mountain side, the young man liked
to take the cattle to graze at their favourite place near
Llyn y Fan Fach, a small lake nestling beneath tall cliffs
that rise up to the highest part of the mountain.
One day in the hazy still heat of high summer, the young
man was sitting by the lake. As he watched over his mother's
cattle, he was astonished to see a young lady appear on the
mirror like surface of the water, arranging her long tresses
with a comb. She was the most beautiful creature he could
ever imagine. Transfixed, he moved to the edge of the lake,
unconsciously holding out his day's supply of hard baked barley
bread as a token of his admiration. Becoming aware of his
attention, she turned and glided gracefully towards him. She
gave him a bewitching smile, but refused the bread, saying
“Your bread is hard baked, it's not that easy to catch
me” before diving under the water and disappearing.
When he returned home the love striken youth told his mother
about the strange encounter. She gave him some soft, partially
baked bread to take with him the next day.
Even before sunrise, the young man was at the lakeside, watching
the water. As the hours passed his increasingly desolate mood
matched the clouds which had gathered over the summit. There
was no sign of the Lady, and his eyes became strained with
starring at the water. Remembering the cattle, he looked up
to discover they had wandered to far side of the lake where
the steep terrain put them in peril. Acting swiftly he drove
them down onto safer ground, when to his great delight the
lady appeared before him, her beauty even more enchanting
than before. He spoke of his love and offered her the bread
as a symbol of his heart, but she refused, this time saying
“Unbaked is your bread, I will not have you”.
Again she disappeared under the water, but as she did she
gave him such a smile that his heart leapt with hope. He returned
home and told his mother what had happened. That night she
duly gathered the finest ingredients and baked the best, most
delicious fresh bread for her son to offer the strange lady.
Once more he hurried up to the lake before the sun's rays
lit up the cliffs. But his eagerness gradually turned to despondency.
The cattle grazed, rain and sun came and went, but there was
no sign of his beloved. As the setting sun cast its golden
red glow back over the mountain from the west, he prepared
to go home. Casting one last glance back toward the lake he
was startled to see a group of cows walking across the water.
Hoping the beautiful lady might also appear, he ran back towards
the water's edge, and there she was, gliding towards him.
In a moment of boldness he seized her hand, and she did not
refuse. Neither this time did she refuse the bread he had
brought for her. After much persuasion, for he was a mortal,
and she was not, she consented to become his bride, but with
one condition. He must not strike her without cause. After
three causeless blows their marriage would be at an end and
she would leave him. He readily agreed, certain that he could
never hurt one he loved so much. Thereupon she dived back
into the lake and disappeared. The young man was still wondering
whether he should follow her into the water, when there rose
out of the lake not one but two beautiful maidens. They were
accompanied by an imposing older man, richly dressed and of
regal bearing. “As you wish to marry my daughter, you
must first prove your love by telling me which one is your
betrothed” he commanded his daughter's suitor.
Both fair ladies were identical, and dressed in the same
shimmering clothes. The young man looked from one to the other,
beginning to despair for they were alike in every respect.
But the intensity of his observation was rewarded, when one
of the maidens moved her foot very slightly forward. He remembered
noticing the distinctive way in which his lady tied her sandals.
So recognising his true love, he boldly took hold of her hand.
“You have chosen well” said her father. “Be
a kind and faithful husband to my daughter and I will give
her a dowry of as many cattle, sheep, horses and goats as
she can count without drawing breath. But remember your promise,
for if you should strike her three times without cause she
shall return to me and bring all her dowry back with her.”
The young man's bride cleverly used the device of counting
in fives, “One, two three, four five, one two three
four five” many times in succession. So many magnificent
beasts did she call forth from her father's watery realm before
running out of breath, that her dowry brought them a wealthy
start to their life together.
And prosper they did, with livestock and land, and the blessing
of three fine sons. Some time after they had moved to the
nearby village of Myddfai , there was a christening in the
neighbourhood but the Lady was reluctant to go. “It
is too far to walk” was her excuse. “Then ride
one of the horses, for we have been especially invited”
her husband entreated. “If you fetch me the gloves I
left in the house” she agreed. But when he returned
with the gloves he found she was still standing where he had
left her. “Go for the horse, go” he said laughing,
slapping her shoulder with one of the gloves. Sadly she reminded
him of the condition on which she married him. “You
have struck the first blow dear husband, be careful”
On another occasion they were guests at a wedding. Many people
had gathered from the surrounding country for feasting and
joyful celebration. Suddenly, amidst all the mirth the Lady
burst into tears, sobbing piteously. Her puzzled husband tapped
her on the shoulder to ask why she was weeping. “Because
I foresee they have much trouble ahead” she explained,
and so do you dear husband, for that is the second blow, and
only one remains. Be careful, oh please be careful! I do not
want to leave you, but leave I must if you strike the third
blow.” With that dire warning, he resolved to be constantly
watchful in case another trivial event should bring about
the end of all his joy. But year after year passed in good
fortune and prosperity, while their sons grew into handsome
clever young men. Such was their happiness, that the husband
might have forgotten only one causeless blow remained under
the terms of their marriage, had not his lady from time to
time entreated him to remember.
One Spring as the earth was bursting into new life, a close
friend of the husband died. The couple attended the funeral,
and at the house of the deceased all was hushed, everyone
was mournful. Suddenly peels of laughter rang out. The shocked
and embarrassed husband tapped his wife on the shoulder telling
her to be quiet. She stopped laughing and turned to him with
a look of great sadness. “I'm happy for your friend
because he has passed beyond his troubles, but you dear husband,
your troubles are beginning. You have struck me three times,
our marriage is at an end, farewell” With that she ran
off over the fields, her distraught husband in pursuit, but
she was so fleet of foot he was soon left behind.
Past their home she ran, crying out to the animals as she
went, calling them to come with her. The brindled cow, the
spotted cow, the white bull from the court of the King, each
one she called by name. Even the little black calf, recently
slaughtered and hanging on the hook, came back to life and
ran off with the rest of the livestock following their mistress.
She called to the team of oxen ploughing the fields “Come
you also, quite well home” And so they did, making a
furrow mark with the plough that remains to this day. (Nothing
is known of the fate of the ploughman!)
Her husband was inconsolable. His sons missed their mother
sorely, and would often go to the lake in the hope of seeing
their mother again. At last after many months she did appear,
although her sons did not recognise her at first, for she
looked as young as when she first appeared to their father.
She told her sons that it was their destiny to become benefactors
to mankind, healing the sick and preserving health as great
physicians. She would guide them to places where the wild
herbs grew - healing plants that would cure all manner of
ills. She would give them instructions for gathering the herbs
and prescriptions for their use.
Through the knowledge the Lady of the Lake imparted to her
sons they became the most renowned physicians in all of Wales
. Rhys Gryg, who ruled over a great part of Wales at that
time, appointed them physicians to the royal court. He bestowed
rank, lands and privileges upon them not only for their service
to the court, but so they could also treat those in need who
could not afford to pay. The fame of the physicians of Myddfai
spread far and wide, and their herbal knowledge passed down
from generation to generation of the family for hundreds of
years. Indeed a tombstone records the death in 1739 of the
last of the physicians who practised as a 'surgeon' at Myddfai,
although it is said that the last of the lineage died in Aberystwyth
in 1842.
Of course many people would dismiss the legend of the Lady
of Llyn y Fan Fach as just a story. However, the dynasty of
the Physicians of Myddfai is a matter of historical fact.
Also for centuries there was a local tradition of visiting
the lake at the beginning of August, 'in the hope of seeing
the waters boil' In the Celtic calendar this was the time
of year to visit sacred high places, to honour special springs
and lakes in elevated positions, and to celebrate the grain
harvest. Llyn y Fan Fach was probably venerated as sacred
from very ancient times.
Its secluded setting, nestling under the height of the Fans,
creates an atmosphere of mystery, and it remains a magical
place. It was possibly also used as an oracle lake. The play
of light and wind can produce remarkable effects on the surface
of the water. In this beautiful unspoilt area of what is now
a National Park, wild herbs still flourish, and some of us
would say that spirit of the Lady still haunts the lake and
wanders in the woods and valleys of the locality. Through
her inspiration Alcemi Essences have been created in the wooded
valleys of the farm to which the Lady was first enticed from
her mountain lake realm.
Alcemi
Essences Home page |
