In the north of Carmarthenshire is a small village, nestling in the hills, called Myddfai. Not far from Myddfai is Llyn Y Van, or Van Pool. The pool is a small lake set in a countryside that is wild and desolate. One can wander for many miles without meeting a single creature. Long ago there lived near this lake a peasant woman and her son Rhiwallon. Rhiwallon’s father had been killed, fighting the Normans when they came to conquer Wales. The widow and her son worked very hard for their living on the small mountain farm. Rhiwallon’s duty was to take care of the herds that grazed on the hillside. He liked his work, and often spent hours of his watch carving beautiful things in wood. One evening he was returning home, tired after his day’s work. When he reached the bottom of the great crag towering over Van pool he stood still in astonishment. A herd of ghost like oxen was coming from the pool. Rhiwallon watched the oxen climb on to some pastureland. He grew more astonished when he saw that the herd was being driven by a Swan, which suddenly turned into the most beautiful maiden. Rhiwallon had lived so much alone that he was very shy of speaking to anyone except his mother. When he saw the beautiful maiden, however, he forgot his shyness. He ran up to her, and when he held out his hands towards her she gave him a piece of bread. “Take it,” she said in a sweet voice. “Take it and eat it as a sign of friendship.” He did so, she laughed and vanished. Then Rhiwallon looked around for the strange oxen, they were nowhere to be seen. He rubbed his eyes. Had he been dreaming? Surely not! He was certain the beautiful maiden had spoken to him. Bowing his head, quite at a loss, he made his way home to tell his mother of the strange adventure. Rhiwallon continued his work of taking care of the herds on the hills. As the days went by, his thoughts centred more on the beautiful maiden. He longed to see her again, but though he searched throughout each day he could not find her. It was New Year’s Eve. The lads of the village of Myddfai called to Rhiwallon. “It is the night of Nos. Calan! Come Rhiwallon, we will have a gay time together in the village.” But Rhiwallon turned away. His mother ran after him and tried to persuade him to join in the merry party. Rhiwallon explained to his mother that he wanted to be left alone to think of the lovely maiden he had seen. Rhiwallon turned up a path that led to the mountains, and made his way to the lonely lake. A full moon sailed high in the sky. Rhiwallon saw that a heavy mist hung over the lake. As he gazed he saw the surface of the water moving. He saw a piece of bread floating on the water, and reaching out he took it. “She said that bread was a token of friendship,” he muttered to himself. “I will eat this small crust.” Hardly had he done so, when he heard a rustling in the waters of the lake. Rhiwallon looked and saw the strange herd of oxen approaching as before. “This time,” exclaimed Rhiwallon, “there is no swan following them, but there is something else.” He peered into the shadows, and then the moon lit up the waters. “It is a little golden boat!” he exclaimed. When the boat reached the lakeside, out stepped the beautiful lady. “ This time she shall not escape me,” declared Rhiwallon. He ran to her and told her that he loved her. “I love you too, Rhiwallon,” said the beautiful lady. Rhiwallon led her to his home. On the way thither the Lady of the Lake told Rhiwallon that she was willing to marry him. Rhiwallon was overjoyed, but the lady raised her hand in warning. “You are a mortal, Rhiwallon. I am immortal. There must be one condition before I marry you.” Rhiwallon declared he did not care what the condition was if only the Lady of the Lake would stay with him. Looking very sad, she then said, "If ever you should strike me three times, I must return alone to the place whence I came.” Rhiwallon laughed aloud. “I accept the condition,” he said boldly. “It is not likely that I shall ever strike you whom I love so much.” Rhiwallon’s mother welcomed the lady. When she was told of the condition, she laughed too. It was not likely that her son would strike the fair lady. Had he not sought long for her.? The young couple were married. They lived very happily. “We shall grow rich,” said the Lady of the Lake. “I possess great herds of oxen. They shall be yours.” Wealth was theirs. They owned sheep and cattle and wide stretches of pasture land. Their greatest treasure was their family of brave sons and beautiful daughters. The old condition governing their married life was far from Rhiwallon’s mind when one day he and his wife made their way to the church at Myddfai to attend a christening. The guests were bidding farewell at the church door. Rhiwallon was anxious to return to his farm. In order to summon his wife, he tapped he lightly on the shoulder with his glove. “Beware!”, cried the Lady of the Lake. Rhiwallon looked at her in astonishment. “Remember the old warning,” she said in great distress. “You have struck me once.” Many years went peacefully by. Rhiwallon had again forgotten the condition, when he and his wife went to a wedding. The guests at the wedding were merry, except for his wife. She burst into tears , refusing to be consoled, for a vision she could see the troubles and sorrows that lay ahead for the young couple. Rhiwallon went to her, telling her telling her that she was damping down the other guests. “Come, my dear wife, I know you can be the happiest creature in the world.” He said coaxingly. He touched her lightly on the arm, bidding her to join in. “Rhiwallon!” she exclaimed through her tears. “O my dear husband! You have struck me twice, only one more remain.” Rhiwallon promised he would take greater care. Many months passed and all was well. Rhiwallon’s friend who lived in a neighbouring farm died. Rhiwallon and his wife attended the funeral. All were sad in the house. Suddenly the silence was broken by laughter. The Lady of the Lake was laughing at the sorrowful faces around her, for she knew that the dead friend was happy, with all his sorrows past. Rhiwallon ran to his wife and scolded her, touching her arm in doing so. The Lady of the Lake grew thin and pale. She said very faintly; “Farewell, my dear. You have struck me for the last time.” Her form changed. Rhiwallon saw her as he had first seen her, then she vanished. He ran to the mountainside, to the lake, hoping to see her. He called and looked till sunset, but there was no trace of her. Months and years passed by but The Lady of the Lake did not return. Grief stricken, Rhiwallon remained at the lakeside, seeking some news of her. Oftentimes his sons and daughters waited with him, for they too were in great sorrow. One night the sons were watching by the Van pool. They saw something appear; it was really their mother as their father had first seen her, but they did not recognise her, and turned away heartsore. The lady of the lake called: “My sons! My sons!” they knew her voice and ran to kiss her. She told them that they might only kiss her hands. Then as they knelt before her she blessed them. “Your work, my sons,” she said “is to become great physicians. You must heal the suffering.” They looked at her in surprise. She knew that they were farmers, tending Rhiwallon’s herds, but the mother went on. “Have no fear my noble sons, I will tell you of the healing herbs. I will guide your footsteps to the places where they grow.” Having said these words the lady of the lake vanished. The sons hurried home to tell their father of the strange meeting. Rhiwallon told them that they must obey their mother. He and his daughters would take care of the flocks and herds. Rhiwallon’s sons climbed the mountainsides. Guided by their mother’s invisible form they collected goodly herbs to heal the sick. They became very skilful and reports of their healing powers spread all over Britain. The Lord Rhys, owner of the greater part of South Wales, gave them lands and bestowed great honours upon them. When Rhiwallon’s sons died their sons in turn became skilled doctors. For many generations their skill was preserved in the family. Some of that knowledge is written down in a book that we can still read today, called the Physicians of Myddfai. Many of the cures seem strange, though not so strange when we remember that they were suggested by the lady of the lake.
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