top of page
  • Instagram
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Spotify
Marchnad Caernarfon / Caernarfon Market
Alaw/Melody - Tradd./Trad.
Geiriau/Words - Richard Williams ´Dic Dywyll´ (c.1790-c.1862)

I´r Cymry sy’n hoffi cân ddigri 
eleni rwy’n gwaeddi am roi gwadd 
efallai bydd dynion lled enwog  
yn llawn ddigon llidiog i’m lladd 
wel hogia dewch yma’n dra chwimwth 
yn dyrfa lled esmwyth ar dir 
mi draetha i chi hanes y farchnad 
os mynwch chi glywed yn glir 
O ni chlywsoch chi rioed ffasiwn beth 
 
yn sydyn ar fore dydd sadwrn 
roedd pawb at ei ffasiwn yn ffel 
am farchnad Caernarfon cynhyrfent 
prysurent, hwy ddeuthent yn ddel 
daeth Ann yno i werthu llaeth enwyn 
a Mal gyda’i menyn a´i maidd 
a merch Doli’r cwac efo’r cocos 
a Tomos i werthu blawd haidd 
O ni chlywsoch chi rioed ffasiwn beth 
 
roedd yno deilwriaid o Fangor 
a chryddion o Lannerch y medd 
a matiwrs o Niwbwrch yn cerdded 
I’w gweled can amled a nedd 
pe glywsech chi’r gweiddi ´´beef Nefyn´´ 
roedd Robin a´r hen fules frech 
wrth ochor y castell yn cega 
dowch yma, cewch ugain am chwech 
O ni chlywsoch chi rioed ffasiwn beth 
 
roedd llawer o ddwndwr a siarad 
I’w gweled ym marchnad y moch -  
gwyddelod a season yn sisial 
a´r huchod yn uchel eu rhoch 
fe syrthiodd Huw Morus o´r marian 
fel brechdan, ac Ifan y gwas 
ar gefn Tomos Huws o Frynsiencyn 
wrth redeg a´r mochyn drwy’r maes 
O ni chlywsoch chi rioed ffasiwn beth 
 
roedd yno chwarelwyr a ffermwyr 
a ffeltwyr a photwyr fel ffair 
roedd rhai´n gwerthu gwydda a chwningod 
ac eraill â hwyiaid a ieir 
 
 
a rhai’n gwerthu gerllyg a ´falau 
rhai eraill a ddygai’n bur ddig 
pe welsoch chi Richard y Bwtchar 
pan gollodd o chwarter o gig 
O ni chlywsoch chi rioed ffasiwn beth 
 
roedd yno rai drwg am ladrata 
medd geiriau Rebeca’r tai bach 
fe gollodd hen wr o Fedd Gelert 
ei fasged a´i siaced a´i sach 
wrth wrando Dic dywyll yn canu 
Sian Robert gath golled go gas 
sef dwyn ei cheiniogwerth o snisin 
gwnaeth hyn iddi regi’n ddi ras 
O ni chlywsogch chi rioed ffasiwn beth 
 
gerllaw Cwrt y Boot y bu battel 
na fu ffasiwn ryfel erioed 
fe syrthiodd Sion Catrin i’r gwter 
a sigodd Huw’r drymar ei droed 
fe glywis i chwaer Judi Logan 
n rhoi clustan i Wil yr hen glos  
ond ar ol i bob trafferth fynd heibio 
bu rheini’n tin hersio drwy’r nos 
O ni chlywsoch chi rioed ffasiwn beth 
 
ond ar y bont bridd mewn ty tafarn 
pan aeth hi’n lled agos i’r nos 
mi glywais fod Huwcyn y prydydd 
a Dafydd Sion Gruffydd yn groes 
roedd y ddau wedi syrthio mewn ffansi 
gynddeiriog â´r hen Besi binc 
am nad allent gael neb ar eu siwrnai 
a fedrai’n well chwarae’r hen chwinc 
O ni chlywsoch chi rioed ffasiwn beth 
 
ond fel roedd hi yn myned yn hwyrach 
roedd dynion yn groesach eu graen 
mi glywais ryw ffwl yn y Pendeits 
yn ymladd a Guto’r saer maen 
y ddau wedi torri’u teetotal 
yn cwffio a rafio’n bur hyll 
fe gipiwyd y rheini i’r Heinws  
am eu bod hwy yn dangos eu dull 
O ni chlywsoch chi rioed ffasiwn beth

to the Welsh who like a funny song 
this year I shout to give invitation 
maybe quite famous people 
will be full angry enough to kill me 
well lads come here swiftly 
as a quite gentle crowd on the land 
I’ll tell you the story of the market 
if you insist on hearing it clearly 
well you never heard anything like it 
 
quickly on Saturday morning 
everyone was in their shrewd fashion, 
excitedly to Caernarfon market 
they thronged, they came neatly 
Ann came there to sell buttermilk  
and Mal with her butter and curd 
and Dolly the quack’s daughter with the cockles 
and Tomos to sell barley flour 
well you never heard anything like it 
 
there were tailors from Bangor there 
and shoemakers from Llannerch-y-Medd 
and mat makers (?) from Newborough walking 
to be seen as numerous as nits 
if you only heard the shouting – ‘Nefyn beef!’ 
Robin and the old speckled female mule 
were by the castle keeping noise -  
´´come here, you can have twenty for six’’ 
well you never heard anything like it 
 
there was a lot of hubbub and talking 
to be seen around the pig market 
Irish and English murmuring 
and the sows grunting loudly 
Huw Morris fell from the gravelly shore 
like a sandwich, and Ifan the farm hand 
on the back of Tomos Hughes from Brynsiencyn 
whilst running with the pig through the square 
well you never heard anything like it 
 
there were quarrymen and farmers there 
and hatters and potters like a fair 
some were selling geese and rabbits 
and others ducks and chickens 
and some selling pears and apples 
and others taking bitterly 
if you saw Richard the butcher 
when he lost a quarter of meat 
well you never heard anything like it 
 
there were bad ones there for robbing 
by the words of Rebecca Tai Bach 
and old man from Beddgelert 
lost his basket, his jacket and his sack 
whilst listening to Dic Dywyll singing 
Sian Roberts suffered a cruel loss 
she lost her pennyworth of snuff 
this made her swear ungracefully  
well you never heard anything like it 
 
adjacent to the court of the Boot there was a battle 
never had there been such a war 
Sion Catrin fell into the gutter 
and Hugh the drummer sprained his foot 
I heard Judy Logan’s sister 
giving Will ‘the old britches’ a battering 
but after all the trouble had passed 
they were arse-frolicking all night 
well you never heard anything like it 
 
but on the earthen bridge in a tavern 
when it was getting near nightfall 
I heard that Huw the rhymer 
and Dafydd Sion Gruffydd were enemies 
both had fallen in a terrible fancy 
with old pink Bessy 
as they couldn’t get no-one on their journey 
who could play the old wink as good 
well you never heard anything like it 
 
but as it was getting later 
people’s grain were crossing even more 
I heard some fool in the Pendeits 
fighting with Guto the mason 
both had broken their teetotal 
fisting and raving in an ugly manner 
they were taken to the cells 
for having shown their true ways 
well you never heard anything like it 

bottom of page