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The Hazel Staff

There was once a young man called Mabon, from west Wales who was born the seventh son of a seventh son. It is said that such are born to great destinies, for with their forty-nine parts of man there is blended one part Bendith y Mamau, as the Welsh call 'Blessings of the Mothers'. It happened one day that Mabon quarreled with his father and left home to seek his fortune abroad. With him, Mabon had few possessions, his boyhood dog for company and a walking staff. Not only could such a staff provide support for the steep climbs present to those in Wales but could also be used like a cudgel --for protection. Often these staffs were skillfully carved and ornately decorated. Mabon was quite proud of his, for he had cut and carved it himself from a stout stock of hazel that he found growing atop a high mountain near his birth place.

As he walked the well trodden road towards England, he happened upon an old wealthy cattleman, in need of a drover to mind his cattle and drive them to London. Saying to him. "To my eyes, you look a likely lad and a lucky lad too! With that corgi dog at your heel and that staff in your hand you look to me, a prince among drovers". They made their business arrangements, agreeing to meet again at the cattle market of London town, The small black cattle of Wales are well know for their tender meat. The cattleman knew that his cattle would fetch a fair price in the great city of London, so he didn't mind hiring a young man down on his luck to drive the cattle, while he rode ahead with haste and comfort to market.

Mabon's way was long, the road wasn't much more than mud and muck, the nights were bitter cold, Mabon slept out doors with the dog and the cattle. When Mabon had delivered his charges as promised, he set off for the center of London. As he was crossing London bridge, an old man noticed the way in which Mabon's staff bowed as it passed above the water. The stranger stopped Mabon and inquired where such a fine staff had been cut, and in what place the tree had grown that had produced such a handsom piece of wood.

Mabon became suspicious imediatly, for this was not his first journey away from home and he knew enough about the ways of great cities to be slow and hesitant in his reply. For the tree had grown and the stick had been cut in his own parrish in the mountains called Craig-y-Dinas. A place abounding in strange stories and legends of ancient times.

He told him none the less however, for the stranger seemed to be too aged and venerable to be any sort of robber. When the stranger explained that the tree grew in a spot where treasure layed hidden, Mabon's suspicions diminished and he was persuaded to name the place. Mabon invited the old man to return with him, and within only a few days they were riding through the green hills of Glammorgan. For the homeward journey, with out any cattle to tend, was always as swift as the outward journey was slow.

Mabon led the old man up the steep slopes where the green grass gave way to stark stone craig, there they found a small spring and near the spring an old weathered hazel tree, the very tree the boy had cut the staff only a few months before. The bark still plainly showing the tale-tell marks of the ax. This was indeed the place the old man had expected.

Instructed to do so, Mabon dug near the base of the tree and soon uncovered a broad flat stone. Between them, with much exersion, they lifted the stone and under the stone they found the entrence to a cave. Cautiously they penetrated the darkness, and there in the shadows they saw a great bell. The wise man warned Mabon that he was on no account to touch the bell, for it's slightest sound would bring misfortune. They pressed on, the cave opened up into a high hall full of warriors armed and accouted in the fashion of ancient times. All were asleep.

The only light seemed to be that from the glow of their armor and swords polished to a high brilliance. Tens of hundreds of warriors, if not more all lay asleep in a spiraling circle with their heads towards the center and their feet to the outside. There in the middle of them all was Arthur, recognizable by his great sword and dreaded dagger, as by his proud countenance and the dignity of his person. But all slept.

All about were the heaps of ancient gold and silver that was the tribute won by Arthur and his men in their wars. Like with like, and kind with kind - the piles organized properly -- gold and silver -- all shone brightly. Mabon's guide explained in a whisper, that the treasure was there for the taking, but only so much as a man might carry in his pockets and only from one kind, gold or silver --but never both. Mabon needed no second bidding and soon his pockets were heavy with the ancient gold. He noticed the wise man standing by without taking a single coin, saying "He that hath wisdom, desireth no greater wealth".

As they prepared to leave the cave, the wise man spoke again to warn Mabon that he must on no account touch the great bell, "For" he said "at its sound per chance a warrior will awake and ask aloud 'Is it the day?' and the day they await is the redemption of Wales from all the perils that beset her. Answer thou then 'No, sleep on.' and make what escape thou may."

So cautioned, Mabon went quietly with his companion until they came again to the great bell. The wise man unencumbered with gold passed it by without any difficulty. But the pockets of the greedy drover were bulging with gold. In the narrow space, he brushed against the bell, which gave forth a low trembling sound. Where at one of the warriors stirred in his sleep, raised his head and cried out "Is it the day?". Remembering what he had been told, Mabon quickly replied "No, sleep on.", and the warrior sunk his head again in sleep.

They pressed ahead and soon the explorers were out of the cave and stood alone in the daylight. In gratitude to his benefactor Mabon now tried to press upon him at least a handfull of the gold he had taken from the cave, but upon meeting with refusal he turned to the task of covering the entrence so that no wayfarer would stumble upon it. While behind him, exhausted the wise man sat and tried to convey the importance of their discovery onto the younger man. That now he was entrusted with a great secret, to keep closely guarded, that he should pass it down when he too had reached his his end days, or per chance to awaken the warriors if the day came that again they're needed in the world. But most of all he warned Mabon not to take advantage of the wealth under the hazel tree, for the riches he had from this visit would be enough to live out his life in comfort. Upon completing the task of hiding the entrance, Mabon lifted his head and the wise man had vanished.

Youth seldom listens to the wisdom of age, and sooner than would be thought possible the young man was again without means to support himself. He consouled himself however that he knew where he could replinish his store. The wealth of the cave under the hazel tree seemed inexaustible.

Again Mabon climbed the high hill, where the green grass gave way to stark stoney crag. He identified the tree and for the second time he dug up the huge stone and uncovered the entrance to the cave. Again he entered its shadows and made his way cautiously around the bell. There they all still were, Arthur and his men awaiting the call and there too was the treasure of thier conquest shinning in the dark. As greedily as before, Mabon filled his pockets with the ancient silver, remembering what the old man said. He made his escape cautiously around the bell into the safe rays of day light.

Mabon learned nothing lasting from his greed and soon he found himself out of coin. So again Mabon climbed the high hill, where the green grass gave way to stark stoney crag. He identified the tree and for the third time he dug up the hugh stone and uncovered the entrance to the cave. Again he entered its shadows and made his way around the bell. More greedily than his first visit he filled his pockets with both gold and silver. He remembered how quickly his treasure had deminished, he was determined to take as much as he could carry. So full his pockets that he could hardly stand or move forward with his load. Weighed down by his heavy burden he crawled slowly out of the cavern, until he reached the great bell. Encumbered as he was he fell heavily upon it, and it clanged aloud. There was a great din that filled the cavern as all the knights awoke and made themselves ready. Then a great shout arose, it was Arthur himself "Is it the day?". Mabon blurted out he knew not what, but not the three words that would return the host to their repose. Whereupon they beat him sorely and threw him out of the cavern. He was never able to find that cavern again though he tried many times, and when he looked into his pockets he found them full with nothing but dead leaves...

A traditional tale, as told by,
a mad poet

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