The beautiful Vale of Neath is full of legendary lore, old customs and beliefs and not a few ghosts. Here too can be found, it is said, the Green Lady of Craig-y-Llyn; King Arthur's sleeping Knights, a water horse, a flying viper; fairies, bogies and a Vampire. Along with Demon dogs, poison fish, a sunken city, witches wizards and a haunted river of evil repute…. Fairies were once commonplace in this area and many are the stories of children who temporarily disappeared, having been with the fairies. Such a story concerns Guto Bach and was related by John Jones who died in 1827 aged ninety-one. He always swore that in his youth fairies were seen by the thousand and he himself had witnessed them at least a hundred times. When he was a boy everyone knew it was dangerous to leave children in their cradles without someone to watch them, so common was it for fairies to steal them away. Wasn't poor little Guto Bach stolen away? He was a fine boy and would often ramble alone along the top of the hills while looking for his father's sheep, and when he returned home he would show his brothers and sisters strange little mock coins with letters stamped onto them, made of a particularly white paper and when asked where he had got them he would always say he was given them by the little children he played with on the mountain. One day little Guto didn't return home from the hills and although the whole neighbourhood helped in the search, no trace of him could be found. Two whole years elapsed before one morning his mother opened the door and there sitting on the threshold was Guto with a bundle under his arm! He was just the same size he was when he disappeared, and he was dressed in the same clothes although they were ragged and dirty. "Where have you been this long, long time?" asked his astonished but delighted mother. Guto replied, "Mother, I have not been away long; it was but yesterday that I was with you. Look what pretty clothes I have in this bundle; given to me by the little children I play with on the mountainside, for dancing with them while they played their harps…" his mother opened the little bundle and finding that it contained a suit of startling white paper, without either seams or any signs of sewing, prudently burned it immediately, convinced that it had come from the fairies. Many similar tales have been told of this area that has been called the home of the fairies. There are stories of haunting and irresistible music, of little figures, the size of a three to four year old child dancing in circles, or hurrying through the grass and undergrowth, or even flying through the air on little white horses.
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