Y Tylwyth Teg

Grand tidings and welcome to Season Two, here on Beyond the Seas! On this, our first premiere episode return, we travel across the ocean to the land of Wales: beneath the hills and dingles, mines and mountains, live the Fair Folk of those ancient places. Who are they...and how do they reach out to us--call to us--still?

WE ARE GOING TO SALEM!
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Source 🌎

-Sikes, Wirt. “British Goblins: Welsh Folklore, Fairy Mythology, Legends, and Traditions.” Sacred Texts, https://sacred-texts.com/neu/celt/wfl/wfl02.htm. 

Music 🎵

"Riven" by Dear Gravity

"intimacy" by Ben Winwood

"Moon" by Be Still the Earth

"Closure" by Beneath the Mountain

"Irish Mountains" by Ben Winwood

Cheers Magick Makers,

Kieran

Chapters

• 0:00 Benediction
• 3:06 Grand Tidings!
• 12:03 Y Tylwyth Teg, Former
• 30:05 Y Tylwyth Teg, Latter
• 42:18 Outro

Transcript

Listen. Do you feel it?

Do you hear it?

The arising from the Underworld. 

The rumbling from within the Earth,

As the Old Mothers ascend from the darkness of their ancient world. 

The Gwragedd Annwn.

Their magick empowers the moment, as you stand at the liminal boundary of Earth and Water,

The Stars and Wind fueling your spirit. 

Your circle is cast, your space is sacred, 

As the boundaries between this and the Otherworld grow thin. 

The Mothers are singing, the Mothers are calling,

As your arms arise to the Heavens, outstretched in benediction. 

Suddenly, the winds abate and the stars grow dim,

As you sense, hear, and feel,

That you are no longer alone. 

They are here, They have come. 

They have answered the Call. 

Or perhaps:

You have answered Theirs. 

For everything is a mirror, both in and towards itself.

And in this most magickal of times and places,

You know, hear, and feel,

That your work…

Has only just begun. 

(transition music)

            Grand Tidings and welcome to you on this, the Fifty-Fourth episode, and the beginning of our Second Season, of Beyond the Seas. My name is Kieran and here we are again, back at it for another week. So first off, the break we the Beyond the Seas team took is finally at its end—and thank you all for the well-wishes, support, and love whilst we did so. Both Claudia and I learned and grew so much over the past few months, and we are beyond excited to return to the show and produce brand new content for you all. Thus, the plugs time: @beyondtheseaspodcast, over on Insta, and Claudia’s account, @thefeatherwitchnyc, to follow along with our weekly tarot collaboration—wherein Claudia teaches the tarot one card at a time, one week at a time. Also, our collaborations with Crossed Crow Books, @crossedcrowbooks, and Iruai Winery, @iruaiwine. Finally, consider signing up for one of the tiers over on our Patreon, patreon.com/BeyondtheSeas. We are constantly coming up with new material to drop over there for all of you to enjoy, once you sign up: an interview with GennaRose Nethercott, guided meditations, rituals for the seasons and moons, and so many more. Finally, please leave a five-star rating and review, on your platform of choice, so the show may course its way through the interwebs and find new Magick Makers the world over. I am so, so, so happy you are all here, sharing some time with me on the show, today.

            And now, artistic and literary updates! Okay, so: we are in the midst of a fully packed audition season. Theaters from all over the United States, as well as productions here in New York, are on the hunt for talent—and I’m only too happy to throw my name into all of their hats. Books wise, I have read through at least two, I think, books? I think? Hahaha, it’s all a bit of a blur, to be honest. The one I know I finished is a re-read of my favorite novel of all time, you ready: Clive Barker’s Imajica. Gods, that book is like a warm hug for me—and when I finished it and put it down, it was like saying goodbye to a dear friend. That’s when you know it’s good. Then, the other latest books I started reading are Neal Stephenson’s Quicksilver, the first in the Baroque Cycle. It is incredibly erudite, and if you are not following along word for word and being present with the text, you will miss something. It is a DOORSTOP of a novel—but it is quite the journey, and is remarkably good. Also, Emily Rath’s North is the Night, which is all about Finnish mythology and paganism. It draws much inspiration and lore from the Kalevala, which I have…never heard of before. And I was SO EXCITED to start this book. It is deliciously quick, but wonderfully juicy. 

            And now, the Card of the Week! So this week, as we start off Season Two, Claudia is concocting and creating a whole new spin on our weekly Tarot series. It is still in the works, so check back on the next few episodes—and over on our Insta, @beyondtheseaspodcast—to hear more updates on the readings. For now, know that things are changing every day: things flow in, and things flow out. Funnily enough, when I was in London last November, at Tower Bridge, that is the exact thing I thought of. Then, as with everything in life, MAJOR, LIFE-CHANGING CHANGES occurred. Professionally, personally. So much change. BUT! Onwards. 

            And now, the Wine of the Week! This week is going to be a tad different, in terms of the wine I promote. Rather than a specific bottle of wine, I am going to suggest…a recipe that includes a wine. Fun, right?! Thus, I went down to Amanda’s place a few nights ago and we so much enjoyed cooking a Lobster Risotto together. Now, for that, as with any risotto, you need wine to cook with—normally about half a cup, or four ounces, will do the trick. So as the rice starts to absorb the wine, the alcohol (sadly) does burn off, but the notes live on in the rice. It is a perfect blend of crisp, citrusy flavors with the sea-saltiness of the lobster. Pair it with a bottle of your favorite white—or red—wine, and enjoy the many laughs you share with a dear, dear friend. And tell them Kieran sent you! hahaha. 

            And, finally, this week’s topic. I find it rather apt, after having been overseas in the lovely British Isles—specifically, London—to venture back to those hills and forests. However, we are going to look a little more westward, towards the land of Wales. It is here that I have heard many a tale of the Fae and the spirits of the land, known as The Tylwyth Teg. What exactly are they? What stories and legends surround them? How do they influence that land, and our world as a whole? And how might we work with them, today?

            For now, grab your favorite bottle of red, find a comfy chair, and close your eyes as I tell you the tale of The Tylwyth Teg—and take you…

            Beyond the Seas. 

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            The land is alive, saturated with the spirits of wind and fire, water and earth; and the spirit of magick which animates it all. Within the many trees and rivers, mountains and lava fields, live secret and occult powers that we arcane souls are drawn to relate with. Deep within the bosom of the Great Mother do our prayers and spells fly forth, into the darkness of the interdimensional web of life that permeates our reality. Translation: our wishes connect us to the spirits, better known as Y Tylwyth Teg. 

            By descent on my father’s side, I am Welsh. My mother gave me Scottish, Norwegian, and Irish blood—my father is Irish, too. So, our ancestors did a lot of pillaging. Hahaha. Regardless, it is my own ancestral ties to Wales that prompts me to proffer the following episode on the fairy-like race known as Y Tylwyth Teg. 

            Now, I am by no means an expert on said Fair Folk, those Goodly Neighbors of ours. But rather, a fond appreciator of what they stand for, and from whence they come. And for what they very well may continue to do for us, on both sides of the Veil. Thus, let us take a dance into and out of their world today, noting how their history and lore reveal pathways into the future of reciprocity, respect, and revelation. 

            From Wirt Sikes’ British Goblins: Welsh Folklore, Fairy Mythology, Legends, and Traditions, “Fairies being creatures of the imagination, it is not possible to classify them by fixed and immutable rules. In the exact sciences, there are laws which never vary, or if they vary, their very eccentricity is governed by precise rules. Even in the largest sense, comparative mythology must demean itself modestly in order to be tolerated in the severe company of the sciences. In presenting his subjects, therefore, the writer in this held can only govern himself by the purpose of orderly arrangement. To secure the maximum of system, for the sake of the student who employs the work for reference and comparison, with the minimum of dullness, for the sake of the general reader, is perhaps the limit of a reasonable ambition. Keightley ['Fairy Mythology' (Bolm's Ed.), 78] divides into four classes the Scandinavian elements of popular belief as to fairies, viz. 1. The Elves; 2. The Dwarfs, or Trolls; 3. The Nisses; and 4. The Necks, Mermen, and Mermaids. How entirely arbitrary this division is, the student of Scandinavian folklore at once perceives. Yet it is perhaps as satisfactory as another. The fairies of Wales may be divided into five classes, if analogy be not too sharply insisted on. Thus, we have, I. The Ellyllon (Esh-lish-lawn), or elves; 2. The Coblynau (cob-lin-eye), or mine fairies; 3. The Bwbachod (boo-bacccchhhhhh-ohhhhhddd), or household fairies; 4. The Gwragedd Annwn, or fairies of the lakes and streams; and 5. The Gwyllion (goo-ish-leee-on), or mountain fairies. 

            “The modern Welsh name for fairies is y Tylwyth Teg, the fair folk or family. This is sometimes lengthened into y Tylwyth Teg yn y Coed (koid, like void), the fair family in the wood, or Tylwyth Teg y Mwn (moon), the fair folk of the mine. They are seen dancing in moonlight nights on the velvety grass, clad in airy and flowing robes of blue, green, white, or scarlet -details as to colour not usually met, I think, in accounts of fairies. They are spoken of as bestowing blessings on those mortals whom they select to be thus favoured; and again are called Bendith y Mamau (ben-deeth eh mama), or their mother's blessing, that is to say, good little children whom it is a pleasure to know. To name the fairies by a harsh epithet is to invoke their anger; to speak of them in flattering phrase is to propitiate their good offices. The student of fairy mythology perceives in this propitiatory mode of speech a fact of wide significance. It can be traced in numberless lands, and back to the beginning of human history, among the cloud-hung peaks of Central Asia. The Greeks spoke of the furies as the Eumenides, or gracious ones; Highlanders mentioned by Sir Walter Scott uncover to the gibbet and call it 'the kind gallows;' the Dayak will not name the small-pox, but calls it 'the chief;' the Laplander calls the bear 'the old man with the fur coat;' in Ammam the tiger is called 'grandfather;' and it is thought that the maxim, 'Speak only good of the dead,' came originally from the notion of propitiating the ghost of the departed, [John Fiske, 'Myths and Myth-makers,' 22] who, in laying off this mortal garb, had become endowed with new powers of harming his late acquaintance.

            “The Ellyllon are the pigmy elves who haunt the groves and valleys, and correspond pretty closely with the English elves. The English name was probably derived from the Welsh el, a spirit, elf, an element; there is a whole brood of words of this class in the Welsh language, expressing every variety of flowing, gliding, spirituality, devilry, angelhood, and goblinism. Ellyllon (the plural of ellyll), is also doubtless allied with the Hebrew Elilim, having with it an identity both of origin and meaning… The hollows, or little dingles, are still the places where the peasant, belated on his homeward way from fair or market, looks for the ellyllon, but fails to find them. Their food is specified in Welsh folk-lore as fairy butter and fairy victuals, ymenyn tylwyth teg and bwyd ellyllon; the latter the toadstool, or poisonous mushroom, and the former a butter-resembling substance found at great depths in the crevices of limestone rocks, in sinking for lead ore. Their gloves, menyg ellyllon, are the bells of the digitalis, or fox-glove, the leaves of which are well known to be a strong sedative. Their queen--for though there is no fairy-queen in the large sense that Gwyn ap Nudd is the fairy-king, there is a queen of the elves--is none other than the Shakespearean fairy spoken of by Mercutio, who comes:

                        In shape no bigger than an agate-stone

                        On the forefinger of an alderman

                        ['Romeo and Juliet,' Act II,. Sc. 4]

            “The EllylIdan is a species of elf exactly corresponding to the English Will-o'-wisp, the Scandinavian Lyktgubhe, and the Breton Sand Yan y Tad. The Welsh word dan means fire; dan also means a lure; the compound word suggests a luring elf-fire… Like all goblins of this class, the EllylIdan was, of course, seen dancing about in marshy grounds, into which it led the belated wanderer; but, as a distinguished resident in Wales has wittily said, the poor elf is. now starved to death, and his breath is taken from him; his light is quenched for ever by the improving farmer, who has drained the bog; and, instead of the rank decaying vegetation of the autumn, where bitterns and snipes delighted to secrete themselves, crops of corn and potatoes are grown.' [Hon, W. O, Stanley, M.P., in 'Notes and Queries.']

            “:…Pwca, or Pooka, is but another name for the Ellylldan, as our Puck is another name for the Will-o'-wisp; but in both cases the shorter term has a more poetic flavour and a wider latitude. The name Puck was originally applied to the whole race of English fairies, and there still be few of the realm who enjoy a wider popularity than Puck, in spite of his mischievous attributes. Part of this popularity is due to the poets, especially to Shakespeare.”

            There is a wealth of information already discussed, and even more to come—right? Now here is the second class that Sikes attributes to the Welsh Fairies: “Under the general title of Coblynau I class the fairies which haunt the mines, quarries and under-ground regions of Wales, corresponding to the cabalistic Gnomes. The word coblyn has the double meaning of knocker or thumper and sprite or fiend; and may it not be the original of goblin? It is applied by Welsh miners to pigmy fairies which dwell in the mines, and point out, by a peculiar knocking or rapping, rich veins of ore. The faith is extended in some parts, so as to cover the indication of subterranean treasures generally, in caves and secret places of the mountains. The coblynau are described as being about half a yard in height and very ugly to look upon, but extremely good-natured, and warm friends of the miner. Their dress is a grotesque imitation of the miner's garb, and they carry tiny hammers, picks and lamps. They work busily, loading ore in buckets, flitting about the shafts, turning tiny windlasses, and pounding away like madmen, but really accomplishing nothing whatever. They have been known to throw stones at the miners, when enraged at being lightly spoken of; but the stones are harmless. nevertheless, all miners of a proper spirit refrain from provoking them, because their presence brings good luck.

            If you, my dear listeners, harken back to one of the very first episodes here on the show, Legends of the Mountains, you will remember specific lore regarding the Tommy Knockers. And here we are, full circle, harkening back to the Wales and hearing the original source material that was carried from there to America. Rather remarkable stuff, amiright? I love magick and myth, mm!! So, before we hit out first Season Two mid-show break, let’s keep going on. 

            “The Coblynau are always given the form of dwarfs, in the popular fancy; wherever seen or heard, they are believed to have escaped from the mines or the secret regions of the mountains. Their homes are hidden from mortal vision. When encountered, either in the mines or on the mountains, they have strayed from their special abodes, which are as spectral as themselves. There is at least one account extant of their secret territory having been revealed to mortal eyes. I find it in a quaint volume (of which I shall have more to say), printed at Newport, Monmouthshire, in 1813 ['A Relation of Apparitions of Spirits in the County of Monmouth and the Principality of Wales' By Rev. Edmund Jones of the Tranch. (Newport, 1813.)] It relates that one WiIliam Evans, of Hafodafel, while crossing the Beacon Mountain very early in the morning, passed a fairy coal mine; where fairies were busily at work. Some were cutting the coal, some carrying it to fill the sacks, some raising the loads upon the horses' backs, and so on; but all in the completest silence. He thought this 'a wonderful extra natural thing,' and was considerably impressed by it, for well he knew that there really was no coal mine at that place. He was a person of undoubted veracity,' and what is more, 'a great man in the world--above telling an untruth.'”

            “That the Coblynau sometimes wandered far from home, the same chronicler testifies; but on these occasions they were taking a holiday. Egbert Williams, 'a pious young gentleman of Denbighshire, then at school,' was one day playing in a field called Cae Caled, in the parish of Bodfari, with three girls, one of whom was his sister. Near the stile beyond Lanelwyd House they saw a company of fifteen or sixteen coblynau engaged in dancing madly. They were in the middle of the field, about seventy yards from the spectators, and they danced something after the manner of Morris-dancers, but with a wildness and swiftness in their motions. They were clothed in red like British soldiers, and wore red handkerchiefs spotted with yellow wound round their heads. And a strange circumstance about them was that although they were almost as big as ordinary men, yet they had unmistakably the appearance of dwarfs, and one could call them nothing but dwarfs. Presently one of them left the company and ran towards the group near the stile, who were direfully scared thereby, and scrambled in great fright to go over the stile. Barbara Jones got over first, then her sister, and as Egbert Williams was helping his sister over they saw the coblyn close upon them, and barely got over when his hairy hand was laid on the stile. He stood leaning on it, gazing after them as they ran, with a grim copper-coloured countenance and a fierce look. The young people ran to Lanelwyd House and called the elders out, but though they hurried quickly to the field the dwarfs had already disappeared.”

            Refill your drinking horns, your goblets, your chalices, for the second half of Y Tylwyth Teg, after this brief break.        

            (transition music)

            So here is a fun little tidbit about me: I have two tattoos, on my left arm, that are inherently Welsh. Again, my father’s side of the family has strong ancestry to that part of the British Isles. And in a way, they help me not only carry my family with me, but also honor the magick of that bit of Earth. Ergo, let us dive back in and hear all about the remaining three members of Y Tylwyth Teg. 

            “The Bwbach, or Boobach, is the good-natured goblin which does good turns for the tidy Welsh maid who wins its favour by a certain course of behaviour recommended by long tradition. The maid having swept the kitchen, makes a good fire the last thing at night, and having put the churn, filled with cream, on the whitened hearth, with a basin of fresh cream for the Bwbach on the hob, goes to bed to await the event. In the morning she finds (if she is in luck) that the Bwbach has emptied the basin of cream, and plied the churn-dasher so well that the maid has but to give a thump or two to bring the butter in a great lump. Like the Ellyll which it so much resembles, the Bwbach does not approve of dissenters and their ways, and especially strong is its aversion to total abstainers.

            “…The same confusion in outlines which exists regarding our own Bogie and Hobgoblin gives the Bwbach a double character, as a household fairy and as a terrifying phantom. In both aspects it is ludicrous, but in the latter it has dangerous practices. To get into its clutches under certain circumstances is no trifling matter, for it has the power of whisking people off through the air. Its services are brought into requisition for this purpose by troubled ghosts who cannot sleep on account of hidden treasure they want removed; and if they can succeed in getting a mortal to help them in removing the treasure, they employ the Bwbach to transport the mortal through the air.

            “THE Gwragedd Annwn (literally, wives of the lower world, or hell) are the elfin dames who dwell under the water…The Gwragedd Annwn are not fishy of aspect, nor do they dwell in the sea. Their haunt is the lakes and rivers, but especially the wild and lonely lakes upon the mountain heights. These romantic sheets are surrounded with numberless superstitions, which will be further treated of. In the realm of faerie they serve as avenues of communication between this world and the lower one of annwn, the shadowy domain presided over by Gwyn ap Nudd, king of the fairies. This sub-aqueous realm is peopled by those children of mystery termed Plant Annwn, and the belief is current among the inhabitants of the Welsh mountains that the Gwragedd Annwn still occasionally visit this upper world of ours.  

            “Crumlyn Lake, near the quaint village of Briton Ferry, is one of the many in Wales which are a resort of the elfin dames. It is also believed that a large town lies swallowed up there, and that the Gwragedd Annwn have turned the submerged walls to use as the superstructure of their fairy palaces. Some claim to have seen the towers of beautiful castles lifting their battlements beneath the surface of the dark waters, and fairy bells are at times heard ringing from these towers.

            “In all these legends the student of comparative folk-lore traces the ancient mythology, however overlain with later details. The water-maidens of every land doubtless originally were the floating clouds of the sky, or the mists of the mountain. From this have come certain fair and fanciful creations with which Indo-European folk-lore teems, the most familiar of which are Undine, Melusina, Nausicaa, and the classic Muse. In Wales, as in other lands, the myth has many forms. The dispersion of dark clouds from the mountains, by the beams of the rising sun, or the morning breezes, is localized in tile legend of the Men of Ardudwy. These men make a raid on the maidens of the Vale of Clwyd, and are pursued and slaughtered by the latter's fathers and brothers. The maidens thereupon cast themselves headlong into the lake, which is thenceforth called the Maidens Lake, or Llyn y Morwynion. In another legend, the river mist over the Cynwal is the spirit of a traitress who perished long ago in the lake. She had conspired with the sea-born pirates of the North (the ocean storms) to rob her Cambrian lord of his domains. She was defeated by the aid of a powerful enchanter (the sun), and fled up the river to the lake, accompanied by her maidens, who were drowned with her there. ['Arch. Camb.,' 4th Se., vii., 251]

            And, finally, the mountain fairies: the Gwyllion. “The Gwyllion are female fairies of frightful characteristics, who haunt lonely roads in the Welsh mountains, and lead night-wanderers astray. They partake somewhat of the aspect of the Hecate of Greek mythology, who rode on the storm, and was a hag of horrid guise. The Welsh word gwyll is variously used to signify gloom, shade, duskiness, a hag, a witch, a fairy, and a goblin but its special application is to these mountain fames of gloomy and harmful habits, as distinct from the Ellyllon of the forest glades and dingles, which are more often beneficent. The Gwyllion take on a more distinct individuality under another name-as the Ellyllon do in mischievous Puck--and the Old Woman of the Mountain typifies all her kind. She is very carefully described by the Prophet Jones in the guise in which she haunted Lanhyddel Mountain in Monmouthshire. This was the semblance of a poor old woman, with an oblong four-cornered hat, ash-coloured clothes, her apron thrown across her shoulder, with a pot or wooden can in her hand, such as poor people carry to fetch milk with, always going before the spectator, and sometimes crying 'Wow up!' This is an English form of a Welsh cry of distress) ' Wwb!' or 'Ww-bwb! [Pronounced Wooboob]. Those who saw this apparition, whether by night or on a misty day, would be sure to lose their way, though they might be perfectly familiar with the road. Sometimes they heard her cry, 'Wow up!' when they did not see her. Sometimes when they went out by night, to fetch coal, water, etc., the dwellers near that mountain would hear the cry very close to them, and immediately after they would hear it afar off, as if it were on the opposite mountain, in the parish of Aberystruth. The popular tradition in that district was that the Old Woman of the Mountain was the spirit of one Juan White, who lived time out of mind in those parts, and was thought to be a witch; because the mountains were not haunted in this manner until after Juan White's death. ['Juan (Shui) White is an old acquaintance of my boyhood,' writes to me a friend who was born some thirty years ago in Monmouthshire. ' A ruined cottage on the Lasgarn hill near Pontypool was understood by us boys to have been her house, and there she appeared at 12 p.m., carrying her head under her arm.'] When people first lost their way, and saw her before them, they used to hurry forward and try to catch her, supposing her to be a flesh-and-blood woman, who could set them right; but they never could overtake her, and she on her part never looked back; so that no man ever saw her face. She has also been seen in the Black Mountain in Breconshire. Robert Williams, of Langattock, Crickhowel, 'a substantial man and of undoubted veracity,' tells this tale As he was travelling one night over part of the Black Mountain, he saw the Old Woman, and at the same time found he had lost his way. Not knowing her to be a spectre he hallooed to her to stay for him, but receiving no answer thought she was deaf. He then hastened his steps, thinking to over take her, but the faster he ran the further he found himself behind her, at which he wondered very much, not knowing the reason of it. He presently found himself stumbling in a marsh, at which discovery his vexation increased and then he heard the Old Woman laughing at him with a weird, uncanny crackling old laugh. This set him to thinking she might he a gwyll; and when he happened to draw out his knife for some purpose, and the Old Woman vanished, then he was sure of it; for Welsh ghosts and fairies are afraid of a knife.”

            And with that, we have found our ending. It is quite a tour-de-force, Y Tylwyth Teg. They live all around us, in the air and rivers, mountains and forests. They are localized and live in the bounds of Wales, and I cannot wait to travel there so I may feel their magicks and know of their spirits. Until then, we listen to their tales and hear of their lore, so as to grow in our wisdom and practice our magicks. Give offerings, near and wide, of milk and cream—red wine and honey—to Y Tylwyth Teg. Know that the energies and magicks of your offerings will flow down into the Earth and travel to the homes of the Ellyllion, The Coblynau, The Bwbachod, The Gwragedd Annwn, and The Gwyllion. And, as a result, our global community and circle will grow not only stronger, but also closer. 

            As a result, your magick, my magick—our magick—will always be made stronger…because of it. 

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            The stories, research, and production elements were done and edited, respectively, by me, Kieran, with sources attached in the description. If you want to be a guest on the show, or have a topic you wish me to explore and discuss, send me an email at beyondtheseaspodcast@gmail.com. And be sure to hit the follow button, on whichever platform you enjoy the podcast, and look forward to more content next week. Until then, seek the veil between the worlds, and allow yourself to travel…Beyond the Seas.