Mufanwy's Story

Myfanwy's Story

Myfanwy Thomas is my little sister, a quiet and patient soul, you will find her sitting on a wooden cotton reel gently playing her harp to a group of Cardiff Castle mice. They listen intently, rhythmically swaying their heads to the traditional Welsh music. Her favourite tunes include Cwm Rhondda and Dydd Llun yn y Bore while my other sister Rhiannon and I like 'the tune ‘Good humoured and fairly tipsy', we think it's a good motto for getting on your feet and dancing to a Jig.

Myfanwy, or Myf (pronounced muv) taught herself how to play the harp by listening in on students of the Welsh School of Music and Drama. Cardiff Castle used to be the home of the college but now they have a brand new building around the corner and Myfanwy sometimes uses the excuse of their graduation ceremony to walk through the lovely Bute park and spot any up-and-coming Richard Burtons or Anthony Hopkins.

One day, on such an expedition, she unfortunately came a bit of a cropper! It was a lovely early summer evening and the notices advertising the Grand Graduation Concert were posted all over Cardiff Castle. She had negotiated her usual flight over the castle walls with the chief peacock, Owen, who, meeting her on the very top of the north battlements boldly shouted

'Hop aboard Myf the curtains are about to rise!'

flinging herself over his back she grabbed the short feathers round his neck and they were off. Down they glided, Myf's petticoat layers flapping gently in the wind, down they fell until, suddenly a sudden gust of wind sent them on a course heading straight for a collection of medieval siege engines at the base of the castle walls.

'Look out' cried Myf looking for a soft place to bale out.

It was too late! Owen’s wing brushed one of the large wooden weapons scattering the two friends in different directions.

Owen crashed unharmed into the lilies in the castle moat while Myf hurtled straight into the sling of a rather large catapult known as a Trebuchet. Thinking she had had a remarkable escape she attempted to lift herself out of the sling but this only nudged the firing mechanism and with a sludgy grating noise, like that of an old squeaky door, the monstrous arm of the Trebuchet creaked into action flinging Myf screaming back over the castle wall.

Her troubles did not stop there, she landed breathless on a newly erected tarpaulin covering the banqueting hall's old leaky roof. Luckily Myf had only minor cuts and bruises and there was a happy ending to the story for the owners of Cardiff Castle too. Upon spotting the misfiring of the medieval weapon, they were able to claim on Medieval Weapons Company for the complete repair of the roof. Funny though! They never ever found the missile that landed on the roof that day!

Happy days!
Delyth x