Bora Da, I'm back bach

Dafydd ap Thomas from Glamorgan, walking over London Bridge, was accosted by a sage with a strong Welsh accent, asking him where he had cut his fine hazel staff. From the hill above the farm at home, Dafydd sad. 'Take me there are once', cried the seer, 'brysiwch, hurry, I will show you wonders!' So they travelled back along the drovers' route to South Wales and went to the hillside where the hazel trees grew, and there the wise man disclosed a hidden entrance in the ground, and in they crept, and in a great underground chamber they found a prince and all his warriors, sleeping all in armour beside their weapons. Disturbed by their approach the prince stirred, sprang to his feet with sword in hand and cried 'Does Wales need us? Has the day come?' 'Not yet', replied the sage, 'Sleep on, sleep on': and the two of them tiptoed away again along the tunnel to the secret door, and the prince returned to his rest.

Prodnose: How very boring.

Myself: Sleep on, sleep on.

The Sin of the Arrow

According to Wikipedia:

The English word sin was originally an archery term. The distance from the center of the bullseye to the point where an arrow struck is known as the 'sin of the arrow'.

I'm far from convinced that this is correct (see this etymology) and wouldn't be surprised if the derivation went the other way round, but isn't it an evocative phrase?

If I ever write anything creative, I think that "The Sin of the Arrow" may be pressed into service as its title.

Lady in Black

There is more on Penylan Well. My brother John says that it is under the kitchen extension in my Mum and Dad's house. Apparently it was uncovered and caused all sorts of problems during the building work. Ma and Pa have more details, but they are on holiday near Lake Garda in Italy at the moment, so I won't be able to ask them about it for another couple of weeks. I'm certainly going to throw a pin in the kitchen sink next Easter though.

More links: I first read about the well in Peter Finch's Real Cardiff. It is also mentioned in Roath - Extract from "A Topographical Dictionary of Wales"by Samuel Lewis 1833. Even more marvelously though, from The Haunting of Glamorgan and Gwent:

In the early 19th century Penylan Well (at Twgwyn Farm) was said to be haunted by a Lady in Black who could frequently be seen there wailing and moaning. Eventually a man stopped and spoke to her. She told him that if he held her by the waist and remained silent whatever happened, she would be released from bondage (it being thought that the firm hand-clasp of a 'pure-minded' man could do this for the spirits of the departed - as could the kiss of a new-born baby). The man did as he was asked and put his arm around the woman's waist. Almost at once, however, he felt a sharp, stabbing pain in his arm and was forced to let go of her. The Lady in Black fled in horror, screaming that it would take her another two hundred years before she could again be freed.

Two hundred years from the early 19th century would be (drum roll) just about now. Perhaps we should start a preemptive 'pure-minded' waist grabbing campaign, purely as a precautionary measure.

Penylan Well

Reminiscences of old inhabitants of Cardiff:

WILLIAM MORGAN HIER EVANS, (fn. 20) Esq., M.B., whose maternal grandfather, Mr. Morgan, occupied Ty Gwyn (otherwise Pen-y-lan farm), the barn of which now forms the convent chapel, said that the well in the present grounds of Well-Field was formerly on the lands of Ty Gwyn. He could not remember that it bore any distinctive name. He wrote: "My mother tells me that the well at Penylan was a bowl of about six inches in diameter, with a lip that was supposed to be an impression of Jesus Christ's knee. The water emerged from the rock and was walled over. On Easter Monday a large number of people wended their way thither to drop bent pins into the well, but my mother does not remember that any curative value was attached to the well. My father put a stop to the annual pilgrimage when he became tenant of Ty Gwyn Farm.

Dropping bent pins into a well that bore an imprint of Jesus' knee at a place of pilgrimage that can't be all that far from Browne Acres! We should retart this fine Easter tradition.

"Edmund Herierd has left the building"

Isaac Hayes and Prince were both playing in London on Friday night, but I would still rather have been at AbbeyFest watching Wayne Fernandez, which is handy, because that is actually where I was.

I took the casual snap on the right with my camera phone as I was putting my hands up 4 Detroit during the evening.

Could the bright ectoplasmic aura in the middle of the stage be our friend?

Mark Marlowe is going to meet Dave Saxby soon, I wonder if he will make of it?

Perhaps a Ghost Light for the Colour House Theatre would be a prudent precaution?

The Ghost of Merton Abbey

Could Edmund Herierd, prior on the cusp of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, be the ghost we have been looking for?

Merton, like other houses following the Augustinian rule, was subject to episcopal jurisdiction and open to diocesan visitation.

Towards the end of 1304 a visitation of the priory during the voidance of the see of Winchester was held by the Archbishop of Canterbury, when various irregularities were alleged against the prior, Edmund Herierd.

Eventually, in consequence of these charges, the prior, whilst vehemently protesting his innocence, was compelled to resign on 25 September 1305. Permission was granted him to occupy rooms within the priory suitable for himself and any one member of the house whom he might choose to live with him; he was also assigned a squire of the body and a servant to attend on him, with a suitable allowance for each. (fn. 82)

The Bishop of Winchester notified the vacancy to the king, as patron, and licence was granted to elect a successor. The chapter met on 1 December, but could not agree, some voting for the re-election of the late prior and the rest making choice of William de Brokesburn. Apparently the numbers for each were equal, and a double return was made to the bishop, who endeavoured to bring about a compromise, but without success, and on 3 December certified their proceedings to the king. (fn. 83)

Edward I. issued a mandate to the bishop to provide a head for the priory of Merton 'out of the bosom of that church,' in order to settle the discords that had arisen since the cession of Prior Herierd. By the king's ordinance the elected persons came before the bishop, and of their own free will renounced all right they might claim from their election; but the proctors of the parties elected not having come with power of renunciation or of submitting to the bishop's ordinance, the bishop dismissed the elected persons. Thereupon the sub-prior and convent unanimously consented to the provision of a prior by the bishop if the royal assent were given. (fn. 84) The bishop's choice fell upon Geoffrey de Alkemondbury, one of the canons, and to him the temporalities were restored on 6 March 1305-6. (fn. 85)

During these proceedings the ex-prior endeavoured to strengthen his party among the canons by lavish entertainment and bringing counter-charges against his opponents, with the result that he was reduced to the position of an ordinary canon, and ordered to spend the remainder of his days with his brethren in the cloister. (fn. 86)

From: 'Houses of Austin canons: Priory of St Mary of Merton', A History of the County of Surrey: Volume 2 (1967), pp. 94-102. URL: http://www.british-history.ac.uk/report.asp?compid=37817. Date accessed: 03 August 2007.

"Reduced to the position of an ordinary canon, and ordered to spend the remainder of his days with his brethren in the cloister" he wanders the site to this day, unable to find peace until his bones are laid in the Chapter House; the right and proper resting place due a prior.


Prior, the title of which he was stripped by calumny, collusion and deceit.

The Wreckers of Wick

A story from the "The Plough and Harrow", a pub recommended by my brother yesterday:

The bar is now one large room and all traces have been removed of the partitioned chamber which stood at the far end, along the dartboard wall. Perhaps this is a good thing, for there are gruesome stories told that this room was use to store the shipwrecked bodies washed up on the beach after having their ships captain confused by the infamous "Wreckers of Wick". They would tie lanterns around sheeps' necks and then let them wander the cliff tops so the captains would think they were nearing the docks of Barry or Cardiff and not the jagged rocks of the coastline or the deadly Nash sandbank.

It is said that the bodies were stored until the coffins were made in the carpentry shop next door before burial at the church just up the lane.