The hills and valleys around Tregaron were once the playing fields of Twm Sion Cati, highwayman, thief and prankster. His exploits were legendary throughout South Wales.
He was a handsome man and one of many faces: he could swop between the fine robes of a gentleman or the rags of a peasant to suit his mischievous deeds. What's more, the rascal could even disguise the animals he'd stolen so that their owners didn't recognise them.
One day he took to Brecon a bull with a stumpy tail which he'd rustled from a local farmer. Twm had used dye to change the colour of its coat, and he'd glued false hair onto its rump.
At market the true owner prodded and pried: "Why, but for the tail this would be my bull!", and he challenged Twm to prove it was real.
No matter. The joker simply cut off the false hair with a slice of the creature's own short tail so that it bled a little.
"You must buy the bull now that you've made me harm it" cried Twm. In this way, the farmer was forced to pay ten pounds for his own animal - and its tail was shorter than ever!
Another farmer who'd been tricked by Twm came looking for him at his mother's cottage. However, Twm had been warned of his coming so he put on beggar's rags over his own garments and sat outside the doorway.
"Here's a coin for looking after my horse" said the visitor, tossing him a penny, and he also gave Twm his silver whip to hold.
No sooner had he crossed over the thresh-hold than Twm jumped into the saddle and galloped away to the farmer's house, discarding his tatters as he rode.
On arriving, he pummelled the door: "Mistress, your husband's in need of fifty pounds in order to catch that villain, Twm Sion Cati, and he's asked me to take it back to him. Here's his whip as a token to prove my words".
Believing him, the wife thrust at Twm a large purse containing the money, which he tucked inside his jacket. With many thanks, he sped away as fast as he could - straight up the road to London.
In Welsh winters Twm was fond of hot porridge on cold mornings, and one day he needed a new pot. In Llandovery the ironmonger showed him several. Twm picked one up and examined it closely. "Friend, this pot has a large hole in it" he exclaimed.
The shopkeeper peered into it also but he just couldn't see any hole. Twm jammed the pan down over his head, grabbed up all the others and rushed for the door, laughing: "If there wasn't a hole in it, how could you get your head stuck inside?".
As a gentleman of the road, he was always polite and generous - giving to the poor that which he'd taken from the rich. When there came into his neighbourhood another highwayman, well known for his ferocity and meanness, Twm decided to play a trick on him.
Dressed in drab clothes Twm climbed onto a thin horse. The nag's saddle-bags were packed with seashells, which clinked like coins as they ambled along the road.
Out from the bushes sprang the robber, brandishing a pistol. His dark and glossy mare stood quietly, half-hidden in trees nearby. Over the opposite hedgerow went the bags as Twm pretended to panic, and into the thorns went his victim, chasing the sound of false gold.
Then Twm leapt onto the thief's mare and raced away. At his leisure he unburdened the horse and plunged his hands into its saddle-bags, full of hard cash and sparkling jewels.
Although he kept clear of the King's lawmen, Twm was easily captured by a beautiful woman. She was already married to a wealthy land-owner but promised her hand to Twm if the elderly husband died.
In due time, she found herself sole mistress of Ystrad Ffin. Twm dashed to her side but by now the lady was enjoying her independence, not to say spending money, and she decided (for the moment) to stay single.
This didn't deter Twm, and he set up camp in a nearby cave. It was a good hide-away for an outlaw, only reached after climbing through steep woodland beside a rushing river.
The cave's entrance was a narrow crack hidden among the trees, and yet he could see for miles over the Tywi Valley. From here, he could often visit his true-love's house - even if she did keep refusing to let him in.
Twm decided on a ploy to win her. One morning he begged to see her since, he said, he was leaving next day to fight in France: "Let me at least kiss your hand in farewell".
Well, the lady began to regret her hard-heartedness, and she held her arm out through the bars of a window. That was enough! Twm seized her wrist and held on tightly. "Never will I let you go until you have agreed to become my wife".
Of course, she resisted at first (she couldn't give in too easily). So Twm drew his sword and flourished it, crying: "I will cut off your hand rather than let it go!". At this, she relented and quickly agreed to marry him before the day was out.
Within a few years Twm was granted a pardon by Good Queen Bess. In truth, he became so respectable that he was made a Justice of the Peace and passed sentence (sympathetically) on many a charming rogue.
* THE END *
Copyright ValleyStream 99
