THE
COMICAL ADVENTURES
OF
TWM SHON CATTY,
(THOMAS JONES, ESQ.)
COMMONLY KNOWN AS THE
Welsh Robin Hood.

“In Ystrad Feen a mirthful sound
Pervades the hollow hills around;
The very stones with laughter bound,
At Twm Shon Catty’s jovial round.”

PREFACE.

In presenting to the public the following Enlarged and Corrected Edition of “Twm Shon Catty,” the author cannot forget that on its first appearance in 1836, with “all its imperfections on its head,” it was received with a welcome quite unlooked for on the part of the writer, and he now presents this edition to the world, with several additions and alterations.

On examining the cause of such unlooked-for approbation, he found it, not in any merit of his own, but in the nationality of his subject, and the humiliating suggestion that, slight as it was, it was the first attempted thing that could bear the title of a Welsh Novel.

It is true others have made Wales the scene of action for the heroes of their Tales; but however talented such writers might be, to the Welshman’s feelings they lacked nationality, and betrayed the hand of the foreigner in the working of the web; its texture perchance, filled up with yams of finer fleeces, but strange and loveless to their unaccustomed eyes.

Were a native of one of the South Sea Islands to publish the life and adventures of one of their legendary heroes, it is probable that such a production would excite more attention, as a true transcript of mind and manners of the people he essayed to describe, than the more polished pages of the courtly English and French novelist, who undertook to write on the same subject.  On the same principle, the author of this unpretending little provincial production accounts for the sunny gleams of favour that have flashed on the new tract which he has endeavoured to tread down, among briers and brambles of an unexplored way, while the smoother path of the practised traveller has been shrouded in gloom.

The expression of the Author’s gratitude is here presented to the Rev. W. J. Rees, Rector of Cascob, for numerous favours; and especially for the historic and traditional matter that his researches furnished.  To the Critics of the Cambrian Quarterly for their favourable notice of the “Small Book,” a skeleton as it then was, compared to the present Edition, imperfect as it still remains.  And lastly to the revered memory of the late Archdeacon Benyon of Llandilo.  That lamented friend of Wales and Welshmen, (whose aims were ever directed to the enlargement of the narrow boundary within which prejudice and custom had encircled and enchained Welsh literature,) in the town-hall of Carmarthen, before his highly respectable Auditors, honoured this production with a favourable notice.  He warmly eulogised the Author’s attempt at the production of the first Welsh Novel; and concluded by an offer of a pecuniary reward to the person who could give the best translation of it in the best Welsh language.

CHAPTER I.

The name of Twm Shon Catty, popular throughout Wales.  “The Inn-Keeper’s Album,” and the drama founded thereon.  Twm Shon Catty apparently born in different towns.  A correct account of his birth and parentage.

It is often the custom, however foolish it may be, to frighten the occupants of an English nursery into submission by saying, “The bogie is coming,” and though the exact form or attributes of the said “bogie” are by no means definitely known, the mere mention of the individual has sufficient power to make the juveniles cover their heads, and dive under the bed-clothes, with fear.  The preface to the once popular farce of “Killing no Murder” informs us, that many a fry of infant Methodists are terrified and frightened to bed by the cry of “the Bishop is coming!”—That the right reverend prelates of the realm should become bugbears and buggaboos to frighten the children of Dissenters, is curious enough, and evinces a considerable degree of ingenious malignity in bringing Episcopacy into contempt, if true.  Be that as it may in England, in Wales it is not so; for the demon of terror and monster of the nursery there, to check the shrill cry of infancy, and enforce silent obedience to the nurse or mother is Twm Shon Catty.

But “babes and sucklings” are not the only ones on whom that name has continued to act as a spell; nor for fear and wonder its only attributes, for the knavish exploits and comic feats of Twm Shon Catty are, like those of Robin Hood in England, the themes of many a rural rhyme, and the subject of many a village tale; where, seated round the ample hearth of a farm house, or the more limited one of a lowly cottage, an attentive audience is ever found, where his mirth-exciting tricks are told and listened to with vast satisfaction, unsated by the frequency of repetition; for the “lowly train” are generally strangers to that fastidiousness which turns disgusted, from a twice-told tale.

Although neither the legends, the poetry, nor the history of the principality, seem to interest, or accord with the taste of our English brethren, the name of Twm Shon Catty, curiously enough, not only made its way among them, but had the unexpected honour of being woven into a tale, and exhibited on the stage, as a Welsh national dramatic spectacle, under the title, and the imposing second title, of Twn John Catty, or, the Welsh Rob Roy.  The nationality of the Welsh residents in London, who always bear their country along with them wherever they go, was immediately roused, notwithstanding the great offence of substituting “John” for “Shon,” which called at once on their curiosity and love of country to pursue the “Inkeeper’s Album,” in which this tale first appeared, and to visit the Cobourg Theatre, where overflowing houses nightly attended the representation of the “Welsh Rob Roy.”  Now this second title, which confounded the poor Cambrians, was a grand expedient of the Dramatist, to excite the attention of the Londoners, who naturally associated it with the hero of the celebrated Scotch novel.  The bait was immediately swallowed, and that tale, an awkward and most weak attempt to imitate the “Great Unknown,” and by far the worst article in a very clever book, actually sold the volume.

As Twm Shon Catty was invariably known to every Crymrian as a great practical joker, they were of course proportionately surprised to find him manufactured into a stilted, injured, melo-dramatic chieftain, for the love of his Ellen, dying the death of a hero!

“This may do for London, but in Wales, where ‘Gwir yn erbyn y byd’ [9a] is our motto, we know better!” muttered many a testy Cambrian, which he felt doubly indignant at the authors’ and actors’ errors in the mis-writing and the mis-pronouncing the well-known “sponsorial or baptismal appellation,” [9b] as Doctor Pangloss would say: and another source of umbrage to them was, that an English author’s