96 



RELICS OF POPULAR SUPERSTITIONS. 



presides over the vehicle, put itself forth. A spectacle so unex- 

 pected and ghastly made Idv/al cover his face and exclaim, Nay, 

 man, PU not fight Death and his coachman too — in St. Gurig's 

 name, get ye on !" The black caravan disappeared, and Idwal 

 hastened forward with his nuptial offering, taking care to dip it in 

 Ffynon Gurig, or the saints' well, to purify it from sorcery. 



A bright May-morning assembled all the assistants of a mar- 

 riage-ceremony at Llanbadarn. As ancient and peculiar custom 

 dictates, they set forth to the habitation of Lillian's father, carry- 

 ing the gifts designed to decorate her's, and enrich the v/edding- 

 feast in it. Kinsmen and bridemaidens came in their best attire, 

 led by Idwal, mounted on one of the low lean horses of Cardigan- 

 shire, dressed in the ragged black cassock he had stolen from the 

 parish- clerk, probably as a kind of mourning, or because it belong- 

 ed to the best village poet, for, as he said, he came to give his 

 cousin away to David Gwynne, and to perform the part of bard at 

 her marriage. Cambrian ceremony requires that the bride should 

 be carried to church by her nearest relative's horse, after much 

 sohcitation in extempore verse. Idwal proffered himself gallantly 

 as brideman, with a wreath of daisies and mistletoe in one hand 

 and a bottle in the other, filled with water from St. Gurig's well, 

 which ensures sovereignty to the wife if she can obtain a draught 

 before her husband. Lillian, looking as meek and pale as the 

 daisies in her coronet, underwent the mimicry of a forcible con- 

 veyance on her kinsman's rough palfrey and a long ride to the 

 parish church, followed by a mirthful assemblage on horse and 

 foot, listening to their own jests more than to the music of a 

 harper, to whom the bride, not unmindful of the rites of hospital- 

 ity, even at the happiest and busiest period of her life, had given 

 a cup of milk and a bed of clean straw when he arrived at Llan- 

 badarn the night before. Lillian grew paler as she entered the 

 church, for the wreath of paper-hhes which indicates the funeral 

 of a bride was still hanging near the altar ; and the chief string 

 of the musician's harp broke as he passed the porch ; — an omen 

 of the direst import. It was not long unconfirmed — the bride- 

 groom was absent, and could not be found. The confusion of sur- 

 prise changed very soon among the spectators into hints and sus- 

 picions. Those who envied Lillian's beauty remembered that her 

 mother was not a wife, that she had no inheritance, except, per- 

 haps, the frailty of that mother ; and both or either of these truths 



