Melangell grew up in Ireland. She was happy. Until one day her father began to speak of arranging a marriage for her. Then she was unhappy. So she left. She was her own woman, no longer a girl now, and she knew that marriage to a man she did not choose was not for her. Where should she go? She went to the coast and found a boat that was crossing to Wales. Once there she traveled inland, guided by a vision of a hidden valley in the mountains. It was as if her path was set and she was being guided to follow it. One day she turned onto a track which led her along the side of a wide stream rushing down from a valley enclosed by high cliffs on either side. As she followed the track upstream the wide valley began to narrow and she felt herself enclosed by the place. She paused to rest and gathered some blackberries. She had passed the last farm some way back. It seemed like she had come home, and she would stay.
The next day she explored further up the valley, where the walls of the cliffs on either side came even closer together. Then there were cliffs in front of her too. The valley ended. The mountains rose in every direction from here except back the way she had come. No-one could pass through this valley. She should not be disturbed. So she lived with the animals and the trees and the rushing stream – listened to the call of the peregrine falcon on the cliff tops, the whistle of the wind along the valley walls, the rustle of the leaves of the willows and the alders along the stream and the tinkle of the flowing waters over the stones. And she was happy.
One day she heard the shouts of men and the sounds of horses coming towards her up the valley. Then a hare bounded into view. She stood and welcomed the hare and the hare came to her. The shouts of the men were closer now and the hare looked ready to run. So she lifted her skirt for the hare to take refuge. As she let her skirt fall again, hiding the hare, a horseman rode up to her with others a little behind.
The hunter stopped as his dogs seemed reluctant to go forward.
“Has a hare come this way?”, he asked.
“You cannot hunt here” she replied, “I keep this place as a sanctuary”.
“I am the lord of all these lands and I hunt where I please”.
She stood her ground, feeling the hare sitting quietly between her legs. The lord sat on his horse and watched her while his men looked on. But Melangell did not move.
“You cannot hunt here”, she said again.
The lord, Brochfael, was impressed. He was not used to being defied in this way. There was something about this woman, he thought, that set her apart.
The hare fidgeted and Melangell adjusted her skirts. Brochfael glanced down, realising now where the hare was hiding. Should he take this woman, and the hare, home with him? He considered.
“Keep the hare then” he heard himself saying, “and this place of sanctuary too. It is yours not because you say so, but as a gift from me, and you will be safer here because of that”.
He turned his horse and rode away from her. But he was as good as his word, and he sent other young women of spirit who would not be married to join her and allowed her to build a community. She became known as the protector of hares, keeping them safe in the folds of the skirts of the valley.