Mr. [William] Jones mentions
that, within his memory, there were still people in his neighbuorhood who
believed that the fairies stole unbaptized children and placed their own in
their stead: he gives the following story about the farmer's wife of Dyffryn
Mymbyr, near Capel Curig, and her infant: This woman had given birth to a
healthy and vigorous child at the beginning of the harvest, one wretched and
inclement summer. As the homestead was a considerable distance from church
or chapel, and the weather so very rainy, it was neglected to baptize the
child at the usual time, that is to say, before it was eight days old. One
fine day, in the middle of this wretched harvest, the mother went to the field
with the rest of the family to try to save the harvest, and left her baby
sleeping in its cradle in its grandmother's charge, who was so aged and decrepit
as to be unable to go much about. The old woman fell asleep, and, while she
was in that state, the Tylwyth Teg came in and took away the baby, placing
another in its stead. Very shortly the latter began to whine and groan, so
that the grandmother awoke: she went to the cradle, where she saw a slender,
wizened old man moving restlessly and peevishly about. "Alas! alas!" said
she, "the old Tylwyth have been here"; and she at once blew in the horn to
call the mother home, who came without delay. As she heard the crying in the
cradle, she ran towards it, and lifted the little one without looking at him;
she hugged him, put him to her breast, and sang lullaby to him, but nothing
was of any avail, as he continued, without stopping, to scream enough to break
her heart; and she knew not what to do to calm him. At last she looked at
him: she saw that he was not like her dear little boy, and her heart was pierced
with agony. She looked at him again, and the more she examined him the uglier
he seemed to her. She sent for her husband home from the field, and told him
to search for a skilled man somewhere or other; and, after a long search,
he was told by somebody that the parson of Trawsfynyd was skilled in the secrets
of the spirits; so he want to him. The latter bade him take a shovel and cover
it with salt, and make the figure of the cross in the salt; then to take it
to the chamber where the fairy child was, and, after taking care to open the
window, to place the shovel on the fire until the salt was burnt. This was
done, and when the salt had got white hot, the peevish abortion went away,
seen of no one, and they found the other baby whole and unscathed at the doorstep.
Source: John Rhys, Celtic
Folklore: Welsh and Manx (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1901), vol. 1,
pp. 100-103 (only the English version of the story quoted here; the original
also contains the tale in Welsh).