The Devil's Bridge
From British Goblins Welsh Folk-lore, Fairy Mythology, Legends and Traditions
by Wirt Sikes (1881)
One day in the olden time old Megan of Llandunach stood by the side of
the river Mynach feeling very sorry for herself.
The Mynach was in flood, and roared down the wooded dingle in five
successive falls, tumbling over three hundred feet in less than no time. Just below the
place where Megan was standing, there was a great cauldron in which the water whirled,
boiled and hissed as if troubled by some evil spirit: from the cauldron the river rushed
and swirled down a narrow, deep ravine, and if the old woman had had an eye for the
beauties of nature, the sight of the seething pot and the long shadowy cleft would have
made her feel joyous rather than sorrowful.
But Megan at this time cared for none of these things, because her one
and only cow was on the wrong side of the ravine, and her thoughts were centred on the
horned beast which was cropping the green grass carelessly just as if it made no
difference what side of the river it was on. How the wrong-headed animal had got there
Megan could not guess, and still less did she know how to get it back. As there was no
one else to talk to, she talked to herself. "Oh, dear, oh, dear, what shall I do?" she
"What is the matter, Megan?" said a voice behind her. She turned round
and saw a man cowled like a monk and with a rosary at his belt. She had not heard anyone
coming, but the noise of the waters boiling over and through the rocks, she reflected,
might easily have drowned the sound of any footsteps. And in any case she was so troubled
about her cow that she could not stop to wonder how the stranger had come up.
"I am ruined," said Megan. "There is my one and only cow, the sole
support of my old age, on the other side of the river, and I don't know how to get her
back again. Oh, dear, oh, dear, I am ruined."
"Don't you worry about that," said the monk, "I'll get her back for you."
"How can you?" asked Megan, greatly surprised.
"I'll tell you," answered the stranger. "It is one of my amusements to build bridges, and if you like I'll throw a bridge across this chasm for you."
"Well, indeed," said the old woman, "nothing would please me better. But how am I to pay you? I am sure you will want a great deal for a job like this, and I am so poor that I have no money to spare, look you, no, indeed."
"I am very easily satisfied," said the monk. "Just let me have the first living thing that crosses the bridge after I have finished it, and I shall be content."
Megan agreed to this, and the monk told her to go back to her cottage and wait there until he should call for her.
Now, Megan was not half such a fool as she looked, and she had noticed, while talking to the kind and obliging stranger, that there was something rather peculiar about his foot. She had a suspicion, too, that his knees were behind instead of being in front, and while she was waiting for the summons she thought so hard that it made, her head ache. By the time she was haloed for, she had hit upon a plan. She threw some crusts to her little dog to make him follow her, and took a loaf of bread under her shawl to the riverside.
"There's a bridge for you," said the monk, pointing proudly to a fine span bestriding the yawning chasm. And it really was something to be proud of.
"H'mm, yes," said Megan, looking doubtfully at it; "yes, it is a bridge. But is it strong?
"Strong?" said the builder, indignantly. "Of course it is strong."
"Will it hold the weight of this loaf?" asked Megan, bringing the bread out from underneath her shawl.
The monk laughed scornfully. "Hold the weight of this loaf? Throw it on and see. Ha, ha!"
So Megan rolled the loaf right across the bridge, and the little black cur scampered after it.
"Yes, it will do," said Megan, "and, kind sir, my little dog is the first live thing to cross the bridge. You are welcome to him, and I thank you very much for all the trouble you have taken."
"Tut, the silly dog is no good to me," said the stranger, very crossly, and with that he vanished into space. From the smell of brimstone which he had left behind him Megan knew that, as she had suspected, it was the Devil whom she had outwitted.
And this is how the Devil's Bridge came to be built
More Welsh Legends
Tales such as attempt to explain the events of the post-Roman period.
Later legends show Breton influence and incorporate the elements of courtly love,
Arthurian tales and pageantry. Other tales incorporate fairies and the supernatural and relate them to features of the landscape.
For example the legend of the 'Meddygon Myddfai' relates that a
farmer in the parish of Myddfai, Carmarthenshire, having bought some lambs in a
neighbouring fair, led them to graze near Llyn y Fan Fach, on the Black Mountains.
Whenever he visited these lambs three beautiful damsels appeared to him from the lake, on
whose shores they often made excursions. Sometimes he pursued and tried to catch them, but
always failed; the enchanting nymphs ran before him ...
is another typical story of an earthling joining the fairy people dating from
takes contact between man and mermaid as its theme.