Jonathan Ceredig Davies

The belief in the existence of Fairies in Wales has almost died out, but we still find many people who are more or less superstitious with regard to ghosts, spirits, etc., and the belief in death omens is rather popular, even among educated people.

The majority of the Welsh ghosts were supposed to be the spirits or shades of departed mortals, re-appearing on account of some neglected duty, and in many cases to point out some hidden treasure; for it was thought that if a person dies, while his money (or any metal) is still hidden secretly, the spirit of that person cannot rest until it is revealed. It was also supposed that the spirits of the murdered haunted the place where their unburied bodies lay, or until vengeance overtook the murderer, “and the wicked were doomed to walk the earth until they were laid in lake or river, or in the Red Sea.” It was also thought in former days, if not at present, that the evil one himself appears sometimes in some form or other; but good spirits are seen as well as bad ones. I have heard it said by some that only those who have been born in the night time have the power to see spirits; others say that spirits take more fancy to some persons than others. It was also thought that if two persons were together, one only could see the spirit, to the other he was invisible, and to one person only would the Spirit speak, and this he would do when addressed; for according to the laws of the Spirit world, a Spirit or a ghost has no power of speech until first spoken to.

“Its persistency in haunting is due to its eager desire to speak, and tell its urgent errand, but the person haunted must take his courage in both hands and put the question to the issue. Having done so, he is booked for the end of the business, be it what it may. The mode of speech adopted must not vary, in addressing a Spirit; in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, it must be addressed, and not otherwise. Its business must be demanded; three times the question must be repeated, unless the ghost answer earlier. When it answers, it speaks in a low hollow voice, stating its desire; and it must not be interrupted while speaking for to interrupt it is dangerous in the extreme. At the close of its remarks, questions are in order. They must be promptly delivered, however, or the ghost will vanish. They must bear on the business in hand; it is offended if asked as to its state, or other idle questions born of curiosity. Neglect to obey the ghost’s injunctions will lead to much annoyance, and eventually to dire results. At first the Spirit will appear with a discontented visage, next with an angry one, and finally with a countenance distorted with the most ferocious rage.” “British Goblins,” page 148.

Men sometimes were transported by the spirits through the air, and the Fairies did this also as well as ghosts. About two years ago, an old man at Llansadwrn, Carmarthenshire, gave me a remarkable account of the transportation of a well-known character who lived in that parish some years ago known as “Evan y Gweydd” (Evan the Weaver). A version of the story had appeared in Welsh twenty-five years ago, in an interesting little book entitled “Lloffion Adgof,” by T. Edwards.

One night Evan y Gweydd found himself speaking with a Spirit who appeared to him in the form of a gentleman outside the house. The gentleman asked him whether he would do one thing at his request. “Yes, if I can,” said Evan, in reply. “That is a promise which must be kept,” said the spirit, “and thou shalt have no peace until thou hast performed it; name the time and sooner the better.” Evan said, “three weeks to to-night.” “Very well,” said the Spirit, and off it went. Poor Evan by this began to feel very sorry for making such a promise, and when the time came round when he was to fulfil his promise, he barred the door of the house and went to bed; but he was not there long before he was thrown down on the floor, and found himself pushed out through the wide open door, unceremoniously, hardly having time to put on his clothes. After going out he saw the same gentleman as before, or rather the spirit which assumed the form of a gentleman who ordered Evan to follow him without delay to a place called Glan-ty-Bedw, where there was a very large stone, with an iron chest concealed beneath it. Then the spirit ordered him to take hold of the box and carry it and throw it into the Fanfach Lake many miles away. On Sunday morning as they passed through the village of Myddfe on their way to this lake, Evan noticed the people going to Church, some of whom he knew, but it seems that they did not see him, and his companion, or at least they did not seem to notice them. After reaching the lake and throwing in the chest, there came thunder and lightning, and Evan was carried through the air in a kind of half trance. When he came to himself he found himself on the banks of the river Towy, between that river and Llansadwrn, and not far from his home. When he reached the house he went to bed, and was very ill for some time. According to some versions of the story, the spirit compelled him to throw an iron into the Cothy river near Edwinsford, as well as a chest into the Fan Lake.

In aerial journey of this kind, the spirit generally gives the mortal the choice of being transported “above wind, amid wind, or below wind.” The man who chooses to go above wind is borne to an altitude somewhat equal to that of a balloon, so high that he is in danger of being frightened to death. But choosing the below wind is quite as bad and even worse, for the hapless mortal is then dragged through bush and briar. The safest way is always to remember to select the middle course (amid wind), for this ensures a pleasant transportation at a moderate elevation equally removed from the branches and the clouds.

There was a certain man in the neighbourhood of Pontyberem, in Carmarthenshire, to whom a spirit appeared almost every night, and offered him an aerial journey of this description, giving him the choice of above wind, amid wind, or below wind, and on one occasion he was dragged by the ghost through bush and briar that his clothes were all in rags.

An old man named John Jones, who lives at Pontrhydfendigaid, informed me that a ghost which haunted a farm between Pontrhydfendigaid and Tregaron, was engaged in the dangerous game of stone-throwing to the great discomfort of the family. There are several such stories in different parts of the country.

I found the following strange tale in an old Welsh book entitled, “Golwg ar y Byd,” written by the Rev. D. Lewis, Vicar of Llangattwg, Glamorganshire, and printed at Carmarthen in 1725:

“Yn mhlwyf Llangeler, yn Sir Gaerfyrddin, Mai 21ain, 1719, y dechreuodd yspryd yr hwn a barhaodd dros hir amser, i daflu ceryg at rhai oedd yn y maes yno. Dydd Iau y Sulgwyn y dechreuwyd dyrnu, oddeutu wyth y boreu, ac y dechreuodd yntau daflu ceryg. Un o’r dyrnwyr yn gyntaf a welodd y gareg yn disgyn ar y llawr dyrnu. Yr ail gareg a ddisgynodd ar glin morwyn y ty, nes ydoedd clais arni; ac yn mhen ychydig llanwasant y llawr dyrnu a’r twyn oddiamgylch, yr hyn a wnaethant wedi hyny. Y dyrnwyr a roisant heibio eu gwaith, ac a aethant i edrych pwy oedd yn eu taflu hwynt, ond ni allasent weled neb.

“Dydd Gwener,—Y forwyn, pan yn yr ardd, a darawyd dair gwaith. Tarawyd amryw o’r plant, nes iddynt fyned allan o’r ty. Daeth llawer yn nghyd i weled y rhyfeddodau hyn, ac yr oedd pawb ag oedd yn dyfod yn cael gweled y ceryg yn disgyn.

“Dydd Sadwrn,—Tarawyd y forwyn ac un o’r dyrnwyr. Yr oedd rhai ceryg yn chwyrnu, ac megys cleisiau ar amryw o honynt. Y ceryg ni welid nes byddent yn disgyn, a phan godid hwynt byddai eu hol ar y llawr, megys pe byddent yno flwyddyn o’r blaen. Daeth pawl mawr yn groes i’r ffenestr, heb neb gweledig yn dyfod ag ef. Rhai ni chredent nes danfon cenadon i weled, ac i gyrchu rhai ceryg adref i’w tai. Cyfodwyd cyff mawr o bren o’r croch i ben y ty, ac a ddisgynodd mewn man arall.

“Dydd Sul,—Daeth llawer iawn yn nghyd i weled, ac amryw o honynt yn tyngu ac yn rhegu, ac yn siarad yn gableddus ac yn ysgafn. Disgynodd ceryg mawrion ar y lloft yn y ty, ond ni welwyd hwynt nes disgynent. Tarawyd bar haiarn allan o’r ffenestr, a phlygwyd un arall fel bach ysdarn; a’r ffenestr a dorwyd yn friwion man. Wedi’r nos daeth ceryg i’r gwelyau, a chloriau’r ffenestri a aethant i’r llofft; a gorfu ar dylwyth y ty gyfodi o’u gwelyau a myned i dy cymydog. Nid oedd ond y ceryg yn llawn yn y ty ac oddiamgylch iddo.

“Nos Fercher,—Llosgwyd yr ysgubor a’r llafur, a llawer o bethau eraill; yr oedd ef bob dydd yn taflu ceryg, ond nid bob awr. Yr oedd weithiau yn taflu mor gynted ag y gellid eu rhifo, a’r rhan fwyaf o honynt yn geryg afon, a rhai o honynt yn chwech pwys neu ragor o bwysau.

“Daeth cymydogion yn nghyd un noswaith i weddio ar Dduw yn y ty, ac ni fu yno fawr o stwr y noson hono. Llawer o bethau yn rhagor a wnaeth efe, ond o’r diwedd efe a ddarfu ac a beidiodd.”

For the benefit of those who are unable to read Welsh, I give the following translation of the above account:—

In the parish of Llangeler, Carmarthenshire, May 21st., 1719, a spirit, which continued for some time, began to throw stones at those who were in the field. On Thursday in Whitsun week, at eight in the morning, the thrashing began (at a farm) and at the same time he (the spirit) began to throw stones. At first it was one of the men who were thrashing that noticed a stone descending on the thrashing floor. The second stone fell on the leg of the housemaid, wounding her; and after this, very shortly, they filled the thrashing floor and the place around. The men who were thrashing gave up their work, and went to see who were throwing them, but could see no one.

Friday.—The servant maid in the garden was struck three times. Several of the children were struck till they went out of the house. A large number of people came together to see these wonders, and all who came were allowed to see the stones descending.

Saturday.—The servant maid and one of the thrashers were struck. Some of the stones were rattling, and something like marks on several of them. The stones were not seen till they fell, and when they were taken up marks of them were on the floor as if they had been there from the year before. A large pole came right across the window without any one visibly bringing it. Some people believed not, till they sent messengers to see, and to bring home some of the stones to their houses. A big stump of wood was taken up from the boiler to the house top, and fell in another place.

Sunday.—A large number of people came together to see, and several of them cursing and swearing, and speaking lightly and blasphemously. Big stones fell on the loft of the house, but were not seen till they had descended. An iron bar was struck out of the window, and another one bent as a packsaddle’s hook; and the window was broken all to pieces. After dark the stones came into the beds, and window frames went to the loft, so that the family of the house were obliged to get up from their beds and go to a neighbour’s house. Nothing but stones could be seen filling the house and surrounding it.

Wednesday Night.—The barn and the corn as well as many other things were burnt; he (the spirit) was throwing stones every day, though not every hour. Sometimes the stones were thrown as fast as one could reckon them, most of which were river stones, and some of them weighing about seven pounds or more. Neighbours came together to pray to God in the house, and there was not much noise in the house that night. Many other things were done by the spirit, but he at last ceased.

There was a troublesome ghost of this kind now recently in the Vale of Towy, Carmarthenshire.

In some of the places supposed to be haunted there are often traditions of buried treasures in connection with such spots. In some of the stories the ghost haunts some particular person only, and never gives him rest till its purpose is accomplished.

Mr. Hall, in his most valuable and interesting “Book of South Wales” gives a tale of:

This man had no peace night or day, for the “White Lady” appeared to him with an agonizing expression of countenance, at unexpected times, and unexpected places. Once in a field to which there were several entrances, she appeared and opposed his exit. Trembling, he sought another, but there, too, was she. He fainted, and did not leave the field, till he was found there by persons who happened to pass. At last some considerable amount of jewels and other valuables were found by the man, in the secret drawer of an old escritoir, which he was repairing for a family that resided near. The valuables were immediately handed over to the owner of the escritoir and the “White Lady” did not appear afterwards.

Another remarkable story of this class is told in the northern part of Cardiganshire; and I found the following version of it in a “Scrap Book” of Mr. William Davies, Talybont, an eminent Folk-Lorist:—

Broginin is a farm house where the famous Welsh Bard, Dafydd Ap Gwilym was born, and situated six miles from Aberystwyth in Cardiganshire. Some years ago the respectable and industrious family who lived there at the time, were often disturbed by some unearthly being who generally made his appearance in the depth of night, as it is the case with spirits. This unwelcome visitor aroused the whole family by walking up and down the stairs, or from one room into another. Sometimes he closed the doors behind him, making such noise as to strike terror to the hearts of all in the house. At times, he lighted up the whole house at once with gleaming light, and the next moment vanished as suddenly as he came, leaving behind him utter darkness. Occasionally, the same ghost was seen by some of the servantmen, who had been out courting, walking across the farmyard in the form of a “white lady,” appearing as a tall handsome lady attired in lustring white dress, and her face covered by silken veil. This “White Lady” walked towards the young men, and suddenly disappeared in a tremendous ball of fire. People were so terrified by such sights, that several families, one after another moved away from the house. One Sunday evening, however, about the beginning of winter, when all the family as usual had gone to chapel, except the servant maid, who did not feel well, her lover came to keep her company. Naturally, the young man and the young woman began to talk about the ghost, and Evan (for that was the young man’s name) laughed, and boasted what he was going to do should the disturber appear. But the next moment, without the least notice, a lady in her white dress stood right in the middle of the room, with her face uncovered, and her brown curly hair down over her shoulders. She held in one hand a comb and in the other a roll of paper, but she did not whisper a word. The servant maid, and her young man who had just been boasting shuddered in terror, and dared not move or utter a word. The “lady” walked round the apartment several times; then suddenly stood; and having opened the door through which she had entered without opening, beckoned the young man to follow her. As he dared not disobey, he followed her up stairs, into a dark back room, but which was now lighted up in some mysterious way. With her finger she pointed out a particular corner under the low roof, at which place the young man with his trembling hand found some hard parcel carefully tied in an old woollen stocking. When he opened it he found it full of money, and at the same moment the “White Lady” vanished and never disturbed the house again.

Crosswood Park, the fine residence of my esteemed young friend the Earl of Lisburne, is situated about nine miles from Aberystwyth. About two miles from the Park is a bridge over the river Ystwyth, known as Pont Llanafan (Llanafan Bridge).

This bridge is supposed to be haunted, and I have been told that a ghost has been seen there lately by a gentleman who lives in the district.

Mr. John Jones, an old man of 95, who lives at Pontrhydfendigaid, informed me that the origin of this ghost is to be traced to some former days when retired pirates lived in a house near the Bridge, and who were supposed to have hidden some treasure in the spot. Mr. Jones also gave me the following story of a farmer named Edwards, who lived in a small farm house near the bridge two or three generations ago:—The poor farmer worked very hard, but for some time he was continually molested by a mischievous ghost day and night. In the evening when Edwards sat down in the corner eating his supper, which consisted of bread and milk, stones came down through the chimney, or ashes were thrown into his milk by some invisible hand. At another time the ghost was heard thrashing in the barn, or meddling with something continually. One day when the man was engaged in making a new fence round his field, the troublesome visitor from the other world kept with him all day, and threw down both the fence and the gate. Edwards at last decided to address the spirit in these word:—”Yn enw Duw, paham yr wyt yn fy aflonyddi o hyd?” which means in English, “In the name of God, why doest thou trouble me continually?” We are not told what was the reply of the spirit, but it was generally believed by the neighbours that he revealed to the farmer some hidden treasure in an old wall not far from the house. Edwards took down this wall and built a new house with the stones and greatly prospered. It was also said that he had been comparatively poor once, but ever since his conversation with the spirit, his cattle and his horses soon increased and fortune and good luck smiled on him all round. About two years ago when I related this story to a friend of mine who lives at Pontrhydfendigaid, to my great surprise, his wife informed me that the account is quite true. “Yes,” said she, “and I got £500 of the Ghost’s money.” The lady, strange to say, happened to be a descendant, or at least a near relation of the Llanafan farmer to whom the ghost revealed the hidden treasure.

Not far from the same Llanafan bridge there is a rock known as “Craig yr Ogof” (Rock of the Cave). Countess Amherst, (now Dowager) informed me that there is a tradition in the neighbourhood that the Romans buried treasures there.

Glanfread is a respectable farm house, but in former days it was a mansion of some note, situated in the North of Cardiganshire. In connection with Glanfread there is a ghost tale, and I found the best version of it in a Welsh manuscript kindly lent me by Dr. James, Lodge Park, Talybont:—

Once upon a time there lived at this house an old gentleman whose two nieces on one occasion came to spend with him their Christmas holidays at Glanfread. One evening, the two young ladies, who were sisters, and the housemaid sat down late playing cards. As they kept on playing till a very late hour, the fire was going out, and they began to feel cold; so the maiden went out of the house for some firewood in order to warm themselves before retiring to bed. For some reason or other, however, she was very long in returning with the wood to put on the fire, and when she did return, she fell on the floor in a swoon, that they were obliged to carry her to bed. Next morning when they asked what had caused her to faint, she declined giving any reply; and even when her master, gun in hand, threatened to take her life unless she confessed what had happened, she still persisted in keeping all the mystery to herself. The fact of it was, the girl kept company to one of the farm servants, if not engaged, and very soon they were married, and took a very large farm—a farm which is well-known in North Cardiganshire. All their acquaintances were very greatly surprised how could a poor servant man and servant woman afford to begin farming on such a large scale, when it was known that they had but very little money to start on such an undertaking. And the general opinion was that a spirit had revealed to the servant woman some hidden treasure on the night she fainted.

There is a story in Radnorshire, that a palace not far from the neighbourhood of Abbey Cwm Hir, was once haunted by a Spirit, which appeared in various forms and made such terrible noise that no one cared to live in the house for a long time. At last, however, a young gentleman who had newly married had the courage to face the ghost, and discovered most valuable treasures which had been hidden in the ground near the house. The spot where the gold had been buried was pointed out to the young man by the Spirit, and the house was never haunted after this.

It is a well-known fact that a Spirit revealed hidden treasure to a Baptist Minister, who lived in a respectable old mansion somewhere not far from Nevern in Pembrokeshire. I met with several persons at Eglwyswrw and other places, who vouched for the truth of the fact. The treasure had been hidden, so it is said, in the time of Cromwell.

Some of the ghosts who reveal hidden money are not always generous. According to the Rev. Edmund Jones, the ghost of one Anne Dewy, a woman who had hanged herself, compelled a young man in the Vale of Towy, Carmarthenshire, to cast into the river a bag of money which had been hid in the wall of a house. Instead of keeping the money himself, the young man obeyed the ghost against his better judgment, and the sum concerned was “£200 or more.”

The following ghost story is recorded in the autobiography of the grandfather of the late Mr. Thomas Wright, the eminent Shropshire antiquary:—

It had been for some time reported in the neighbourhood that a poor unmarried woman, who was a member of the Methodist Society, and had become serious under their ministry, had seen and conversed with the apparition of a gentleman, who had made a strange discovery to her. Mr. Hampson (a preacher among the Methodists about the end of the 18th century) being desirous to ascertain if there was any truth in the story, sent for the woman, and desired her to give him an exact relation of the whole affair from her own mouth, and as near the truth as she possibly could. She said she was a poor woman, who got her living by spinning hemp or line; that it was customary for the farmers and gentlemen of that neighbourhood to grow a little hemp or line in a corner of their fields for their own consumption, and as she was a good hand at spinning the materials, she used to go from house to house to inquire for work; that her method was, where they employed her, during her stay, to have meat, and drink, and lodging (if she had occasion to sleep with them), for her work, and what they pleased to give her besides. That, among other places, she happened to call one day at the Welsh Earl of Powis’s country seat, called Redcastle, to inquire for work, as she usually had done before. The quality were at this time in London, and had left the steward and his wife, with other servants, as usual, to take care of their country residence in their absence. The steward’s wife set her to work, and in the evening told her that she must stay all night with them, as they had more work for her to do next day. When bedtime arrived, two or three servants in company, with each a lighted candle in her hand, conducted her to her lodging. They led her to a ground room, with a boarded floor, and two sash windows. The room was grandly furnished, and had a genteel bed in one corner of it. They had made her a good fire, and had placed her a chair and a table before it, and a large lighted candle upon the table. They told her that was her bedroom, and that she might go to sleep when she pleased. They then wished her a good night and withdrew altogether, pulling the door quickly after them, so as to hasp the spring-snech in the brass lock that was upon it. When they were gone, she gazed awhile at the fine furniture, under no small astonishment that they should put such a poor person as her in so grand a room, and bed, with all the apparatus of fire, chair, table, and a candle. She was also surprised at the circumstance of the servants coming so many together, with each of them a candle. However, after gazing about her some little time, she sat down and took a small Welsh Bible out of her pocket, which she always carried about with her, and in which she usually read a chapter—chiefly in the New Testament—before she said her prayers and went to bed. While she was reading she heard the door open, and turning her head, saw a gentleman enter in a gold-laced hat and waistcoat, and the rest of his dress corresponding therewith. I think she was very particular in describing the rest of his dress to Mr. Hampson, and he to me at the time, but I have now forgot the other particulars. He walked down by the sash-window to the corner of the room and then returned. When he came to the first window in his return (the bottom of which was nearly breast high), he rested his elbow on the bottom of the window, and the side of his face upon the palm of the hand, and stood in that leaning posture for some time, with his side partly towards her. She looked at him earnestly to see if she knew him, but, though from her frequent intercourse with them, she had a personal knowledge of all the present family, he appeared a stranger to her. She supposed afterwards that he stood in this manner to encourage her to speak; but as she did not, after some little time he walked off, pulling the door after him as the servants had done before. She began now to be much alarmed, concluding it to be an apparition, and that they had put her there on purpose. This was really the case. The room, it seems, had been disturbed for a long time, so that nobody could sleep peaceably in it, and as she passed for a very serious woman, the servants took it into their heads to put the Methodist and Spirit together, to see what they would make of it. Startled at this thought, she rose from her chair, and knelt down by the bedside to say her prayers. While she was praying he came in again, walked round the room, and came close behind her. She had it on her mind to speak, but when she attempted it she was so very much agitated that she could not utter a word. He walked out of the room again, pulling the door after him as before. She begged that God would strengthen her and not suffer her to be tried beyond what she could bear. She recovered her spirits, and thought she felt more confidence and resolution, and determined if he came in again she would speak to him. He presently came in again, walked round and came behind her as before; she turned her head and said, “Pray, sir, who are you, and what do you want?” He put up his finger, and said, “Take up the candle and follow me, and I will tell you.” She got up, took up the candle, and followed him out of the room. He led her through a long boarded passage till they came to the door of another room, which he opened and went in. It was a small room, or what might be called a large closet. “As the room was small, and I believed him to be a Spirit,” she said, “I stopped at the door; he turned and said, ‘Walk in, I will not hurt you.’ So I walked in. He said, ‘Observe what I do.’ I said, ‘I will.’ He stooped, and tore up one of the boards of the floor, and there appeared under it a box with an iron handle in the lid. He said, ‘Do you see that box?’ I said, ‘Yes, I do.’ He then stepped to one side of the room, and showed me a crevice in the wall, where he said a key was hid that would open it. He said ‘This box and key must be taken out, and sent to the Earl in London’ (naming the Earl, and his place of residence in the city). He said, ‘Will you see it done?’ I said, ‘I will do my best to get it done.’ He said, ‘Do, and I will trouble the house no more.’ He then walked out of the room and left me. (He seems to have been a very civil Spirit, and to have been very careful to affright her as little as possible). I stepped to the room door and set up a shout. The steward and his wife, and the other servants came to me immediately, all clung together, with a number of lights in their hands. It seems they all had been waiting to see the issue of the interview betwixt me and the apparition. They asked me what was the matter? I told them the foregoing circumstances, and showed them the box. The steward durst not meddle with it, but his wife had more courage, and with the help of the other servants, lugged it out, and found the key.” She said by their lifting it appeared to be pretty heavy, but that she did not see it opened, and, therefore, did not know what it contained; perhaps money, or writings of consequence to the family, or both. They took it away with them, and she then went to bed and slept peaceably till the morning. It appeared afterwards that they sent the box to the Earl in London, with an account of the manner of its discovery and by whom; and the Earl sent down orders immediately to his steward to inform the poor woman who had been the occasion of this discovery, that if she would come and reside in his family, she should be comfortably provided for, for the remainder of her days; or, if she did not choose to reside constantly with them, if she would let them know when she wanted assistance, she should be liberally supplied, at his Lordship’s expense as long as he lived. And Mr. Hampson said it was a known fact in the neighbourhood that she had been so supplied from his Lordship’s family from the time the affair was said to have happened, and continued to be so at the time she gave Mr. Hampson this account.

To touch or dig for buried treasures guarded by a ghost without the ghost’s consent always brings thunder and lightning. Such is the tradition in connection with “Carreg y Bwci” on the top of Craig Twrch, on the borders of Carmarthenshire and Cardiganshire.

Many of the tales displaying the motive, on the ghost’s part of a duty to perform—sometimes clearly defining, sometimes vaguely suggesting it, as in the story of Noe.

The evening was far gone when a traveller of the name of Noe arrived at an Inn in Pembrokeshire, and called for refreshments. After remaining sometime he remarked that he must proceed on his journey. ‘Surely,’ said the astonished landlord, ‘You will not travel at night for it is said that a ghost haunts that road,’ crying out, ‘The days are long and the nights are cold to wait for Noe. O, I am the man sought for,’ said he, and immediately departed; but, strange to say, neither Noe nor the ghost was ever heard of afterwards.

An old woman in Pembrokeshire informed me that the scene of the above tale was a house in the neighbourhood of Letterston.

Another story of this class appeared in an interesting little Welsh book entitled “Ysten Sioned,” published by Hughes and Son, Wrexham.

There was a farmhouse in a certain part of West Wales, in which a large and respectable family lived. But there was one room in the house haunted by a troublesome spirit which often cried out in a mournful voice, “Hir yw’r dydd, a hir yw’r nos, a hir yw aros Arawn” (long is the day, and long is the night, and long is waiting for Arawn). Things went on in this manner for a long time, and not one hardly ventured to open the door of that room. But one cold winter evening when every member of the family sat around the fire, before supper, somebody called at the door of the house, and a stranger was welcomed in to warm himself by the fire. The stranger asked for some food and a bed for the night. He was told he was welcomed of food, but that they were sorry they could not offer him a bed, as all the beds were hardly enough for themselves, and that the only spare bed-room in the house was haunted. Then the stranger begged to be allowed to sleep in that room, as he felt sure that there was nothing to do him harm there. The man appeared very tired, and spoke but little except in reply to questions, and when it was found out that his name was “Arawn,” all the family looked into each’s face in great surprise. The stranger presently went to bed in the haunted room, and strange to say everything was quiet in that room that night, that is, no spirit was heard as usual crying and moving things about. When the family got up next morning, the first thing was to find out what kind of night the stranger passed in the haunted room, but to the surprise of all the man was gone, and the ghost was also gone, for the room was never haunted afterwards.

Good many people in Wales who laugh at the idea of a ghost, readily admit the possibility of the appearance of a living man’s spirit (Yspryd Dyn Byw).

An old lady named Miss Pergrin, who lives at Pontshan, Llandyssul, informed me about five years ago, that when she was a little girl of about eleven years of age, a certain man who lived in that neighbourhood had gone from home, for some months, and just about the time when he was expected to return the little girl was one day walking along the road near the village, about two o’clock in the afternoon. She suddenly met the man coming home. He was coming along the road towards her, and looked at her, and then suddenly disappeared through a gate into an adjoining field. She was very much surprised, as the man was not expected home till next day. The next moment two sisters of the man appeared on the scene, and the girl informed them that she had just seen their brother, and inquired whether they had met him as they passed along the same road about the same time. But they in reply positively affirmed that they had seen no sight of him on the road or anywhere else since he left home, and that the girl must have been dreaming or inventing some idle tale, for their brother was not returning home till to-morrow. About 2 p.m., the next day, the man did come home, and, strange to say, it was found out that the day Miss Pergrin had seen him, he was far away from the district, so it was concluded that she had seen his spirit, and that in broad daylight. Miss Pergrin did not like to give the man’s name.

A woman named Mrs. M. Davies, who lives in the small village of Llanybri, in Carmarthenshire, informed me that her mother when a young woman, was going home one evening to Llanybri, on a moonlight night. As she walked along, to her great surprise, she saw an old woman known in the neighbourhood as Rachel Y Gweydd, or the weaver, sitting by the roadside and busily engaged in knitting a stocking. The young woman ran home as fast as she could and told her mother what she had seen. “Och y fi” said her mother, “something strange is sure to take place after this.” Within a few days a man named Thomas Davies, of Cwmllan-wybryn, died, and was buried at the Capel Newydd. As the funeral procession passed along, there was Rachel Y Gweydd sitting by the roadside, and knitting her stocking at the very same spot where her spirit had been seen by the young woman on the moon-light night. The old woman had gone to sit by the roadside in order to watch the funeral procession passing.

A sister of the above Mrs. Davies, Mrs. Weekes, of Llangynog, also gave me the following account of her mother’s experience of seeing “Yspryd dyn byw.”

Mrs. Weekes’s mother, when a young girl, living with her parents near Llanybri, Carmarthen, went out one evening to fetch some water from a well close by, and she saw, as she thought, Thomas of Felin Gwm standing near the hedge. “Thomas?” says she, “what do you want here?” The man vanished into nothing all at once, and so she perceived that it was his spirit she had seen. Thomas was in love with her, but she had refused to have anything to do with him.

The following tale appeared in “Welsh Folk-Lore,” page 296 by the late Rev. Elias Owen, F.S.A., who had obtained the story from the Rev. Philip Edwards:—

“At Swyddffynnon, in Cardiganshire, there lived a Mrs. Evans, who had a strange vision. Mr. Edwards’s father called one evening upon Mrs. Evans, and found her sitting by the fire in company with a few female friends, greatly depressed. On enquiring as to the cause of her distress, she stated that she had had a strange sight that very evening.

“She saw, she said, in the unoccupied chamber at the further end of the house, a light, and, whilst she was wondering what light it was, she observed a tall, dark, stranger gentleman, who had a long, full beard, enter the house and go straight to the room where the light was, but before going in he took off his hat and placed it on the table; then he took off his gloves and threw them into the hat, and without uttering a single word he entered the lit-up room.

“Shortly afterwards, she saw the stranger emerge from the room and leave the house, and on looking again towards the room she saw that the light had disappeared. It was, she said, this apparition that had disconcerted her.

“Some time after this vision, Mrs. Evans was in a critical state, and as she lived far away from a doctor, my informant’s father was requested to ride to Aberystwyth for one. He found, however, that the two doctors who then resided in that town were from home. But he was informed at the inn that there was a London doctor staying at Hafod. He determined, whether he could or could not, induce this gentleman to accompany him to Swyddffynnon, to go there. This gentleman, on hearing the urgency of the case, consented to visit the sick woman.

“Mr. Edwards and the doctor rode rapidly to their destination, and Mr. Edwards was surprised to find that the doctor did everything exactly as it had been stated by Mrs. Evans. There was also a light in the chamber, for there the neighbour had placed the still-born child, and it was the providential help of the London doctor that saved Mrs. Evans’s life.

“I may add that the personal appearance of this gentleman corresponded with the description given of him by Mrs. Evans.”

I heard the following story in the neighbourhood of Llanddewi, about my own grandfather, the late Mr. John Evans, of Gogoyan, who died about fifty-five years ago. (The “Hiriaid Gogoyan” were descended from Gruffydd Hir o Llanfair, great-great-grandson of Gwaethfoed); so saith Gwynionydd, in his book on “Enwogion Ceredigion.” But now for the story:—

Mr. Evans one day had gone to Aberystwyth, either riding or driving as this was in the days before the introduction of railways into that part, the distance was over twenty miles.

Early in the afternoon on the same day one of his servants who was ploughing in the field, saw Mr. Evans walking about quite close to him in the field.

The servant was quite surprised at this, as he knew that his master had gone to Aberystwyth early in the morning. When the master came home that night from Aberystwyth, the servant told him that he had seen him in the afternoon in the field.

“Well,” said Evans in reply, “if you saw me you only saw my spirit, for I have been away all day; now to see the spirit of a living man is not a bad sign.”

It is rather curious that a story very similar to the above is given by Mr. T. Lloyd, Dinas Powis, in “Cymru Fu” (“Weekly Mail” reprints) for November 16th, 1889, which is as follows:—

“Many years ago at a farm called Ystradteilo, near the pretty village of Llanrhystyd in Cardiganshire, the servant girl was sent to the field to fetch home the cows for milking, and while in the field she saw her master doing something there. The master’s name was Williams, and he was a near relation to the eminent scholar Rev. E. Williams, M.A., of Lampeter. When, however, the servant girl returned home, she was astonished to find her master in the house. ‘How in the world did you come home so quick?’ she asked. ‘Just now I saw you in the field.’ He replied that he had not been from the house during the afternoon, and added, ‘look here, girl, that was not a bad sign at all but if you will see me like that after my departure you may depend that I shall be in a place of torture.’ It was a general belief that of the dead the ghosts of the wicked only were to be seen.”

Mr. Thomas Stephens, an intelligent old man in the neighbourhood of Mydroilyn, in the Parish of Llanarth, Cardiganshire, informed me that between 60 and 70 years ago his father, John Stephens, when a young man, was coming home late one evening after spending a few hours of pleasant time with the young woman of his affection at a neighbouring farm. As he was walking along a lonely lane, to his great surprise, he heard the sound of some one throwing stones about in a field which he was passing by. When he looked around, he beheld the spirit of a man of his acquaintance who was well and alive, throwing stones with all his might in a field where stones were not to be found.

Spirit of a living man was sometimes heard without being seen, of this I was informed by an old man at Llanddewi Brefi.

In some ghost stories we find the spirits of the departed appearing to comfort the living.

A very old man named Thomas Ticker, who lives at the small village of Llanybri, gave me the following remarkable account:—

Many years ago when one William Thomas, Pengelly Isaf, Llangynog, was a little boy of ten or twelve years of age, his mother died. One day the boy in great sorrow went out into a field which was quite close to the house, and wept bitterly, almost breaking his heart. Suddenly, the spirit of his dead mother appeared to him in a white dress, telling him not to cry, “because” saith she, “your crying gives me pain, and you need not be in trouble about the future, as there is plenty of food for thee.” The child was on the ground when she spoke, and when he looked up he beheld his mother vanishing suddenly.

This W. Thomas who saw his mother’s spirit, died when a comparatively young man, but his son, from whom my informant obtained the account of the vision, lived till eighty years of age, and died about sixty years ago.

About ninety years ago one Mrs. D. Thomas, Llanfair, Llandyssul, had a daughter who was very promising, and her mother was so fond of her. She was sent to the well-known school of the celebrated Mr. Davis of Castell Howell. Unfortunately, however, the girl died, to the great sorrow of her poor mother who bewailed her loss day and night. But one day when the old lady was out in the potato field, the spirit of her dead daughter appeared suddenly to her, and spoke to her mother with severe looks: “Don’t cry after me, for I am in a much better place.” The above account I heard from the lips of Mr. Rees, Maesymeillion, parish of Llandyssul, about three years ago, to whom and his brother I am indebted for several other stories.

The following story was related to me by Mr. Brutus Davies, who died at Aberystwyth about two years ago, and who vouched for the truth of the account:—

About seventy years ago a certain man who was working on the Estate of Col. —— in the parish of Llangeler, Carmarthenshire, had buried his first wife and had married again. He had several children from his first wife, but not one from the second. One particular day, the children went out to play as they often did. When they came to a certain spot which served them as a playground, they found some small cakes on the ground, which were very tempting to children; but just as they were going to eat them, the spirit of their dead mother appeared on the scene and addressed them as follows:—“My dear children, don’t eat those cakes, for there is poison in them!” When this strange occurrence became known in the neighbourhood, people suspected the step-mother of having intentionally and secretly placed the cakes on the children’s playground.

Sometimes we hear of the appearance of the ghost of a child, especially if a baby has been ill-treated or murdered, and the following story is well-known in the Northern part of Cardiganshire.

About sixty years ago, the dead body of a little baby was found in a hole or an old mine shaft, known till the present day as “Shaft y plentyn” (the child’s shaft), and as the people of the neighbourhood of Talybont guessed who its mother was, there was a rumour that both she and her family were haunted by the child’s ghost. This ghost also, it is said, wandered about at night, and its bitter crying disturbed the whole neighbourhood, till many timid people were afraid to go out after dark. My informant was the late J. Jones, Bristol House.

There is a similar story of a child’s ghost in the parish of Troedyraur, South Cardiganshire. This spirit always appeared as a child dressed in yellow clothes, and on that account the unearthly visitor was known as “Bwci Melyn Bach y Cwm.”

It was an old belief among the Welsh people in former times that the spirit of a suicide was doomed to walk the earth as a punishment. Several versions of the well-known Kidwely Legend have already appeared, but a book of West Wales Folk-Lore would be incomplete without it.

Sir Elidir Ddu was a Lord of Kidwely. He had two sons, Griffith and Rhys, and one beautiful daughter named Nest.

The Crusades had been proclaimed, and this Elidir Ddu was preparing to depart, and accompanied by his youngest son Rhys; but the eldest son Griffith and Nest, the only daughter, remained at home in Kidwely Castle, as well as another fair young lady whose name was Gwladys, a niece of Sir Elidir, and cousin to Nest. Nest was in love with a handsome young Norman named Sir Walter Mansel, her cousin Gwladys also was in love with him, but the young man was true to Nest. Griffith loved Gwladys, but she did not like him as she wanted Sir Walter Mansel. This complicated matters very much. Nest’s father before he had left to the Holy Land, had forbidden the young Norman the house, and now the young lady’s brother, Griffith, guarded the place against him; but the sanguine lover (Sir W. M.) found means of meeting the fair Nest in the country round, and many stolen interviews were held. But the jealous Gwladys watched Nest, and found out her place of meeting with her lover, which was Pont-y-Gwendraeth, and she informed Griffith of it. Griffith was in love with Gwladys, but she had snubbed him hopelessly. Now, however, in order to use him as an accomplice in her revenge, she flattered his hopes with feigned kindness, and wrought him up to such a pitch of fury against the Norman, that he agreed to join her to destroy the young lover by fixing upon a bad fellow called Merig Maneg to carry out the evil deed. The next trysting place of the lovers was, by some means ascertained to be a bridge over the tidal portion of the Gwendraeth, and as Sir W. came forward to greet his lady-love an arrow whistled from a reed bed and pierced his side. The villain Merig, then rushed from his hiding place, and before the very eyes of Nest, hurled Walter’s body into the rushing tide. The young lady overcome with horror, gave a wild shriek of despair and plunged in after the hapless knight. After this, the villain Merig was haunted by Nest’s spirit, and on one occasion, she told him that her spirit was doomed to walk the earth as a punishment for her suicide unless a marriage should take place between one of her father’s descendants and a member of the Mansel family, and that until that did occur she would appear on Pont-y-Gwendraeth to give warning of the approaching death of every member of the family. From that day the Bridge became known as Pont-yr-yspryd-gwyn, and for generations a white lady occasionally appeared, giving utterance to a wild unearthly shriek and vanish.

Mr. Charles Wilkins in his “Tales and Sketches of Wales,” gives the following sequel to the story:—

In 1775, Mr. Rhys, a lineal descendant of Rhys Ddu, of Kidwely Castle, a magistrate, was returning one evening from Quarter Sessions when he was startled by seeing a white figure flit rapidly across the Bridge, and disappear over it into the water. His horse trembled and refused to go on. Mr. Rhys thought of the Ghost Story and prediction, and riding towards Kidwely, noticed a large crowd and heard that a shocking murder had been committed upon a poor old woman. He entered the cottage and discovered a small portion of a man’s coat sleeve lying upon the bed. By inquiry, found it belonged to “Will Maneg.” Will was arrested, confessed, and was hanged on Pembrey mountain, while as still further to strengthen the prediction, Mr. Rhys was informed that day of the death of his brother Arthur of the R.N., who was drowned at sea; and also of his wife’s mother’s death, Lady Mansel, of Iscoed, who was burnt to death at Kidwely.

Mr. Innes, in “Old Llanelly,” page 145, says:—

“The ghost of Lady Mansel ‘walked’ and haunted Old Stradey House,” and “Llanelly House probably had had ghosts for it is certain that spirits may be found there even now; and an old man has recently made a statement that when a boy he slept in the Stepney Mansion; but as he ascended to his room he heard the rustling brocade of a lady’s dress in an apparently empty corridor.

“This lady during the night played upon an organ built up in one of the thick walls.”

An old man named Griffiths, who is 96 years of age, and lives at ’Renallt Farm, near Carmarthen, gave me the following ghost story concerning his own father.

William Griffiths (my informant’s father), when a young man, nearly a hundred years ago, was engaged as a servant at a farm called Pontiauar, in the Parish of Llanpumpsaint. William had been out late one night to see the young woman of his affection, and having enjoyed the pleasure of love for some hours, he returned home about three o’clock in the morning. He had some miles to go through a lonely district, and worse than that he had to pass the Haunted Red Gate of Glynadda, a place famous for its ghosts in former times.

On he walked as fast as he could, but to his great terror, when he came to the Red Gate the ghost appeared in the shape of a big man. William passed on and ran, but the Ghost followed him all the way to the village of Llanpumpsaint, till the young man was terrified almost to death. When he arrived at the house of Dafydd Llwyd, the Blacksmith (who worked even at that early hour), he entered the house or the Blacksmith’s shop, and fell down near the fire half-fainting, and they had to take him home to the farmhouse in a cart.

Sometimes we hear of ghosts at sea, and the following account of a Ghost on board H.M.S. “Asp,” which was written by Capt. Alldridge, R.N., Commander of that vessel, appeared in the “Pembroke County Guardian,” February 16th, 1901.

March 15th, 1867.

My dear Sir,—I herewith readily comply with your request as far as I am able, respecting the unaccountable “apparition” on board my ship. Call it ghost or what you will, still I assure you that which I am going to relate is what really did take place, and much as I was, and am, a sceptic in ghost stories, I must confess myself completely at a loss to account by natural causes for that which did actually occur. Many years having elapsed since I retired from active service I am unable to recollect all the dates with exactness, but I will give them as far as I can remember them.

In the year 1850, the “Asp” was given me by the Admiralty as a surveying vessel. On taking possession of her, the Superintendent of the Dockyard, where she lay, remarked to me, “Do you know, Sir, your ship is said to be haunted, and I don’t know if you will get any of the Dockyard men to work on her.” I, of course, smiled, and I said “I don’t care for ghosts, and dare say I shall get her all to lights fast enough.”

I engaged the shipwrights to do the necessary repairs to the vessel, but before they had been working in her a week they came to me in a body and begged me to give the vessel up as she was haunted and could never bring anything but ill-luck. However, the vessel was at length repaired, and arrived in safety in the river Dee, where she was to commence her labours. After my tea in the evening, I generally sat in my cabin and either read to myself or had an officer of mine (who is now master of the ‘Magician’) to read aloud to me: on such occasions we used frequently to be interrupted by strange noises, often such as would be caused by a drunken man or a person staggering about, which appeared to issue from the after (or ladies’) cabin.

The two cabins were only separated from each other by the companion ladder, the doors faced each other, so that from my cabin I could see into the after one. There was no communication between either of them and the other parts of the ship, excepting by the companion ladder, which no one could ascend or descend without being seen from my cabin. The evening shortly after our arrival in the Dee, the officer I mentioned was reading to me in my cabin when all at once his voice was drowned by a violent and prolonged noise in the aft cabin. Thinking it must be the steward he called out “Don’t make such a noise, steward,” and the noise ceased. When he began to read again the noise also recommenced. “What are you doing, steward—making such a—noise for?” he cried out, and taking the candle rushes into the next cabin. But he came back quicker than he went, saying there was nobody there.

He recommenced reading, and once more began the mysterious noise. I felt sure there was some drunken person there whom my officer had overlooked, and accordingly rose and looked myself, and to my very disagreeable surprise found the cabin empty!

After this evening, the noises became very frequent, varying in kind and in degree. Sometimes it was as though the seats and lockers were being banged about, sometimes it sounded as though decanters and tumblers were being clashed together. During these disturbances the vessel was lying more than a mile off shore.

One evening I and the above-named officer went to drink tea at a friend’s house at Queen’s Ferry, near Chester, the vessel at the time being lashed to the lower stage opposite Church’s Quay. We returned on board together about 10 p.m. While descending the companion ladder, I distinctly heard someone rush from the after cabin into the fore cabin. I stopped the officer who was behind me at the top of the ladder and whispered to him, “Stand still, I think I have caught the ghost.” I then descended into my cabin, took my sword, which always hung over my bed, and placed it drawn in his hand saying “Now ——, allow no one to pass you; if anyone attempts to escape cut him down, I will stand the consequences. T then returned to the cabin, struck a light and searched everywhere, but nothing could I find to account for the noises I had heard, though I declare solemnly that never did I feel more certain of anything in my life than that I should find a man there. So there was nothing to be done but to repeat for the hundredth time, “Well, it is the ghost again!” Often when lying in my bed at night have I heard noises close to me as though my drawers were being opened and shut, the top of my washing stand raised and banged down again, and a bed which stood on the opposite side of my cabin, pulled about; while of an evening I often heard while sitting in my cabin a noise as though a percussion cap were snapped close to my head; also very often (and I say it with godly and reverential fear) I have been sensible of the presence of something invisible about me, and could have put my hand, so to say, on it, or the spot where I felt it was; and all this occurred, strange to say, without my feeling in the least alarmed or caring about it, except so far that I could not understand or account for what I felt and heard.

One night, when the vessel was at anchor in Martyn Roads I was awoke by the quartermaster calling me and begging me to come on deck as the look-out man had rushed to the lower deck, saying that a figure of a lady was standing on the paddle box pointing with her finger to Heaven. Feeling angry, I told him to send the look-out man on deck again and keep him there till daybreak, but in attempting to carry my orders into execution the man went into violent convulsions, and the result was I had to go myself upon deck and remain there till morning.

This apparition was often seen after this, and always as described with her finger pointing towards Heaven.

One Sunday afternoon while lying in the Haverfordwest river opposite to Lawrenny, the crew being all on shore, and I being at church, my steward (the only man on board) whilst descending the companion ladder was spoken to by an unseen voice. He immediately fell down with fright, and I found his appearance so altered that I really scarcely knew him! He begged to be allowed his discharge and to be landed as soon as possible, to which I felt obliged to consent as he could not be persuaded to remain on board for the night. The story of the ship being haunted becoming known on shore, the clergyman of Lawrenny called on me one day and begged me to allow him to question the crew, which he accordingly did. He seemed very much impressed by what he heard; he seemed to view the matter in a serious light and said that his opinion was that “some troubled spirit must be lingering about the vessel.”

During the years that I commanded the “Asp” I lost many of my men who ran away on being refused their discharge, and a great many others I felt forced to let go, so great was their fear, one and all telling me the same tale, namely, that at night they saw the transparent figure of a lady pointing with her finger up to Heaven. For many years I endeavoured to ridicule the affair as I was often put to considerable inconvenience by the loss of hands, but to no purpose. I believe that when the officers went out of the vessel after dark none of the crew would have ventured into the cabin on any account. One night I was awoke from my sleep by a hand, to all sensations, being placed on my leg outside the bedclothes. I lay still for a moment to satisfy myself of the truth of what I felt, and then grabbed at it, but caught nothing. I rang my bell for the quartermaster to come with his lantern, but found nothing. This occurred to me several times, but on one occasion as I lay wide awake a hand was placed on my forehead. If ever a man’s hair stood on end mine did then. I sprang clean out of bed: there was not a sound. Until then I had never felt the least fear of the ghost or whatever you like to call it. In fact I had taken a kind of pleasure in listening to the various noises as I lay in bed, and sometimes when the noises were very loud I would suddenly pull my bell for the look-out man and then listen attentively if I could hear the sound of a footstep or attempt to escape, but there never was any, and I would hear the look-out man walk from his post to my cabin when I would merely ask him some questions as to the wind and weather. At length in 1857, the vessel requiring repairs, was ordered alongside the dockyard wall at Pembroke. The first night the sentry stationed near the ship saw (as he afterwards declared) a lady mount the paddle box holding up her hand towards Heaven. She then stepped on shore and came along the path towards him when he brought his musket to the charge “who goes there?” But the figure walked through the musket, upon which he dropped it and ran for the guard house. The next sentry saw all this take place and fired off his gun to alarm the guard. The figure then glided past a third sentry who was placed near the ruins of Pater old Church, and who watched her, or it, mount the top of a grave in the old churchyard, point with her finger to Heaven, and then stand till she vanished from his sight. The sergeant of the guard came with rank and file to learn the tale, and the fright of the sentries all along the Dockyard wall was so great that none would remain at their post unless they were doubled, which they were, as may be seen by the “Report of guard” for that night. Singularly enough, since that, the ghost has never been heard of again on board the Asp, and I never heard the noises which before had so incessantly annoyed me. The only clue I could ever find to account for my vessel being haunted is as follows:—Some years previously to my having her, the “Asp” had been engaged as a mail packet between Port Patrick and Donaghadee. After one of her trips, the passengers having all disembarked, the stewardess on going into the ladies’ cabin found a beautiful girl with her throat cut lying in one of the sleeping berths quite dead! How she came by her death no one could tell and, though, of course, strict investigations were commenced, neither who she was or where she came from or anything about her was ever discovered. The circumstances gave rise to much talk, and the vessel was remanded by the authorities, and she was not again used until handed over to me for surveying service. Here end my tale, which I have given in all truth. Much as I know one gets laughed at for believing in ghost stories you are welcome to make what use you please with this true account of the apparition on board the “Asp.”

Rhosmeherin, in the neighbourhood of Ystrad Meurig, in Cardiganshire, was formerly well known for its ghost. An old man named John Jones, who lives at Pontrhydfendigaid, informed me that when a boy he heard of many belated persons who were terrified in passing the haunted spot by seeing a ghost which appeared sometimes in the shape of a cat, at other times as a man on horseback.

Mr. Jones also added that a poor old woman had been murdered there in the old times, which was supposed to account for the spot being haunted. I have heard several ghost stories in connection with this spot, but the best is the one which appeared in an interesting Welsh book entitled, “Ystraeon y Gwyll,” written by the late Mr. D. Lledrod Davies, a promising young man, and a candidate for Holy Orders, who died 20 years ago. Mr. Davies obtained the story from a person who had seen the ghost; so I give a translation of the Belated’s own words:—

“I was going home one evening from my work from Ros y Wlad, and had to go through Rhosmeherin. “That place, you know is a terrible spot for its ghosts. People say that they are seen there in broad daylight. As to myself I did not see them in the daytime, but many a time was I kept there all night by Jack-a-Lantern.

I saw a ghost in the form of a cat there also, and when I began to strike him he disappeared in a blazing fire. But now for the gentleman. I was near the spot where I had seen the cat, when I heard the sound of a horse coming after me. I jumped one side to make room for him to pass; but when he came opposite me he did not go forward a single pace faster than myself. When I went on slowly, he went slowly; when I went fast, he went fast. “Good night,” said I at last, but no answer. Then I said it was a very fine night, but the gentleman on horseback did not seem to take any notice of what I said. Then thinking that he might be an Englishman (the man was speaking in Welsh), I said in English “Good night,” but he took no notice of me still.

By this I was beginning to perspire and almost ready to fall down with fright, hoping to get rid of him, as I now perceived that he was the Devil himself appearing in the form of a gentleman. I could think from the sound of the saddle and the shining stirrups that the saddle was a new one. On we went along the dark narrow lane till we came to the turnpike road, when it became a little lighter, which gave me courage to turn my eyes to see what kind of a man he was. The horse looked like a soldier’s horse, a splendid one, and his feet like the feet of a calf, without any shoes under them, and the feet of the gentleman in the stirrups were also like the feet of a calf. My courage failed me to look what his head and body were like. On we went till we came to the cross-road. I had heard many a time that a ghost leaves everybody there. Well, to the cross road we came. But ah! I heard the sound of the ground as if it were going to rend, and the heavens going to fall upon my head; and in this sound I lost sight of him (the Spirit). How he went away I know not, nor the direction he went.”

Sometimes we hear of haunted caves, where spirits are said to be seen or heard. One of such places is the Green Bridge Cave, near Pendine, Carmarthenshire.

There is a story in the neighbourhood that long ago an old fiddler entered once into this cave with his fiddle and a lighted candle to see his way, and that his candle went out when he was in, so that he failed to find his way out of the cave again. He is heard there sometimes, so it is said, playing his fiddle.

Near Llandyssul, in Cardiganshire, and the borders of Carmarthenshire, there is a pool in the River Teivi, known as the “Pool of the Harper.” When I visited the village a few years ago I was told that it is said that an old harper was drowned there long ago; and that it is still believed by some that on a fine summer afternoon, one hears his spirit playing his harp in the pool.

It is not, often we hear in Wales of Good Spirits appearing; but the Rev. Edmund Jones in his “Relation of Apparitions,” a curious old book published some generations ago, gives the following narrative of Apparitions of Good Spirits:—

——“There lived at a place called Pante, which is between Carmarthen and Laugharne towns, one Mr. David Thomas, a holy man, who worship the Lord with great devotion and humility; he was also a gifted brother, and sometimes preached. On a certain night, for the sake of privacy, he went into a room which was out of the house, but nearly adjoining to it, in order to read and pray; and as he was at prayer, and very highly taken up into a heavenly frame, the room was suddenly enlightened, and to that degree that the light of the candle was swallowed up by a greater light, and became invisible; and with, or in that light a company of Spirits, like children, in bright clothing, appeared very beautiful, and sung; but he recollected only a few words of it, ‘Pa hyd? Pa hyd? Dychwelwch feibion Adda’ (How long? How long? Return ye sons of Adam.) Something like Ps. xc. 3. After a time he lost sight of them: the light of the candle again came to appear, when the great light of the glorious company was gone. He was immersed in the heavenly disposition, and he fell down to thank and praise the Lord; and while he was at this heavenly exercise the room enlightened again; the light of the candle became invisible, and the glorious company sung; but he was so amazed at what he saw and heard that he could remember only the following words, ‘Pa hyd? Pa hyd yr erlidiwch?’ (How long? How long, will ye persecute the godly Christians?)

“After a while, they departed, and the candle light appeared. Any Christian who enjoyed much of God’s presence will easily believe that D. T. was now lifted up very high in the spiritual life by this extraordinary visitation from heaven.”

There are several legends in West and Mid-Wales, especially in Carmarthenshire and Cardiganshire, in which spirits or some other mysterious powers, play a prominent part in the removal of Churches from one site to another.

I am indebted for the following to the Rev. H. M. Williams, Vicar of Lledrod:—

There is a tradition in the parish of Llanddeusant, that the parish church was to have been built at first at Twynllanan, in the centre of the parish; but the stones that were put up during the day were removed in the night, to the spot where the church now stands.

The Rev. Professor Tyrrell Green, St. David’s College, Lampeter, writes to me thus:—

“Jonathan Williams in his History of Radnorshire, p. 194, ed., 1859, says that near Llanbister Church is a piece of land on which it was originally intended to have erected the Church, but tradition reports that the accomplishment of this design was prevented by the intervention of supernatural agency. “The tradition that a supernatural being carried away in the night whatever was built of the church during the day, is still kept alive, because the warden claims an annual rent of 2s. 6d. for the vacant and unconsecrated site of the originally intended church.” In the same book mention is made of an old custom prevailing in this parish, viz., the payment of a certain tax or tribute called “Clwt-y-Gyllell,” or Knife Money, imposed on a certain corner of a field on some estates, consisting of a certain number of groats.

For the following legend, I am indebted to Mr. Prys Williams, Y. Wenallt, an eminent antiquarian in the southern part of Cardiganshire:—

The intended original site of the Church of Penbryn, according to tradition, was Penlon Moch, near Sarnau, where now stands St. John’s Mission Church; but all the materials they brought there, and built in the course of the day, were removed during the night by invisible hands to where it now stands. There is a similar tradition concerning Bettws Ifan.

When the attempt was first made to build this church, everything put up in the day fell down in the night, till at last the builder threw his hammer into the air.

The church was then built on the spot where the hammer fell and the work progressed without further hindrance.

In this story we do not hear of a spirit removing the material, but it is evident that it was believed that the falling down in the night of what was put up in the day, was caused by some supernatural agency.

In the middle of the parish there is a field called Park y Fonwent, where, according to local tradition, the church was to have been originally built, but the stones brought to the spot during the day, were removed by invisible hands during the night to the spot where the present church now stands, accompanied by a voice saying, “Llangan, dyma’r fan,” (Llangan, here is the spot).—See Arch. Cam., 1872.

Not far from Pendine, Carmarthenshire, is a field called Church Park, a short distance to the west from the church. In this field it was intended at first to build the church, but invisible spirits during the night removed both stones and mortar to the spot where the church now stands. There is also a tradition that two giants were buried in the field.

Llangeler parish is in Carmarthenshire, and on the borders of Cardiganshire. There is a tradition in the district that it was at first intended to build Llangeler Church on a spot known as “Parc-y-Bwci,” but what had been built during the day, was transported in the night to the site of the present church. There is no mention here that the agency was a spirit; but the name of the spot is very suggestive, for Parc-y-Bwci means the Goblin’s Park.

The parish church of Llanfihangel Geneu’r Glyn, is situated about five miles north of Aberystwyth, and it is seen from the train. About a mile from the church and the village, there is a respectable farm house, named Glanfread, or Glanfread-fawr which belongs to the Gogerddan Estate. It is evident that Glanfread was a place of importance once, and long ago gentry lived there, and it was the birthplace of Edward Llwyd, the author of ArchÆoligia Britanica. It is also believed that the house received its name from St. Fraed, a devout woman who, according to local tradition, came over from Ireland to build a church on the spot.

There is a legend still extant in the neighbourhood that when the work of erecting the church on the spot was actually commenced, the portion built during the day was pulled down during each night. At last a voice from the spirit world was heard to speak as follows:—

What the spirit meant by these words was that the church was to be built at Genau’r Glyn, and that Glanfread-fawr farm or mansion was to occupy the spot they were then trying to build the church; and in accordance with the Spirit’s direction the church was after this built where it now stands instead of at Glanfread.

The above tradition was related to me by Lady Hills-Johnes, of Dolaucothy, an intelligent lady who has been a friend to me for nearly twenty years. The late Bishop Thirwall wanted Lady Hills-Johnes to write a book on the Legends of Wales.

Llanfihangel, of course, is the Welsh for St. Michael, or rather Michael’s Church; but as the early Welsh Christians generally dedicated their churches to Welsh Saints, it seems probable that the ancient name of this church was Llanfread; and the name of the farm Glanfread, where it was first intended to build the church seems to suggest this. Perhaps the church was re-dedicated to St. Michael by the Normans, for we know that William the Conqueror seized some lands in the neighbourhood, and that particular part of the parish is known to this day as “Cyfoeth y Brenin,” (the King’s wealth).

St. Michael was a favourite patron of churches with the Normans, as it was believed that an apparition of the Archangel had been seen by Aubert, Bishop of Avranches, directing him to build a church on Mount St. Michael in Normandy.

From a paper read before the Cardiganshire Antiquarian Society, by the Rev. J. Morris, Vicar of Llanybyther, I find that there is a tradition still extant that Llanwenog Church was also removed by supernatural agency from one site to another.

These popular legends are, undoubtedly, very old, and are current not only in Wales, but in parts of Scotland also as the following from Sir Walter Scott’s Notes to the Lay of the Last Minstrel prove:

——“When the workmen were engaged in erecting the ancient church of Old Deer, in Aberdeenshire, upon a small hill called Bissau they were surprised to find that the work was impeded by supernatural obstacles. At length the Spirit of the River was heard to say:

“The site of the edifice was accordingly transferred to Taptillery, an eminence at some distance from where the building had been commenced.”

As to the origin of these legends or traditions of the mysterious removal of churches, it is not easy to arrive at a correct explanation. Some writers are of the opinion that they contain a record, imaginative and exaggerated, of real incidents connected with the history of the churches to which each of them belongs, and that they are in most cases reminiscences of an older church which once actually stood on another site. Others see in these stories traces of the antagonism, in remote times, between peoples holding different religious beliefs, and the steps taken by one party to seize and appropriate the sacred spots of the other.

That some of these tales have had their origin in primitive times, even anterior to Christianity, is probable.

In many of the Welsh Ghost Stories, the spirit or ghost was supposed to have been none other than the evil one himself.

The visible appearance of his satanic majesty was quite as common in Wales as in other countries, though, strange to say, he is often depicted as an inferior in cunning and intellect to a shrewd old woman, or a bright-witted Welshman, as the following two curious stories show:—

The Devil’s Bridge in the northern part of Cardiganshire is so called from the tradition that it was erected by him upon the condition that the first thing that passed over it should be his. The story which is well-known is something as follows:

An old woman called Megan Llandunach had lost her cow, and espied the animal across the gorge. When bewailing her fate, the Devil appeared and promised to build her a bridge over the gorge under the condition that the first living thing which crossed should be surrendered into his hand, “and be beyond redemption lost.” Megan agreed, the bridge was completed; she took from her pocket a crust of bread and threw it over the bridge, and her hungry dog sprang after it. So the Devil was balked in his design after all his trouble in erecting the bridge.

Once upon a time the devil was offended with the people of Pentre-Cwrt, in Carmarthenshire, and decided to drown them. One day in order to do this mischief the Evil One was seen going along with a big shovelful of mound; and when he came to the parish of Llandyssul in Cardiganshire, which was only about two miles from Pentre-Cwrt, he met with a cobbler who carried a very large bundle of old shoes. After saluting the devil the cobbler asked him to where did he intend taking the shovelful of mound? “To the mouth of Alltcafan,” was the reply. “For what purpose?” asked the cobbler again. “To dam the River Teivy so as to drown the people of Pentre-Cwrt,” said the devil. Now the cobbler was a very shrewd man, and in order to frustrate the evil design of the Old Gentleman, he told him that the place where he intended to dam the river was very far away. “How far is it?” asked the devil. “I cannot tell you the exact distance,” replied the cobbler, “but in walking from there I have worn out all these shoes.” “If that is so,” said the devil, “it is too far, for I am already tired,” and down did he throw the shovelful of mould, and the shovelful which the devil threw down is to be seen to this day, and known as Cnwc Coedfoel.—See Hanes Plwyf Llangeler, gan D. Jones.

Sometimes the devil manifests himself in a ball of fire, at other times in the form of a pig, mouse, calf, dog, or headless horse, and even as a gentleman on horseback, as we have already seen in the Rhosmeherin ghost story.

When I was in North Pembrokeshire a few years ago, I was told by several old people in the village of Eglwyswrw that the Evil One sometimes was to be seen at Yet Wen in that neighbourhood; occasionally as a “white lady,” but more often as a white cat.

The people of the same village informed me that Yet Wen, Pen’rallt, was also a favourite resort of the devil, and that a woman once in passing the spot at night, shouted “Come out you d——l,” and the next moment a white cat appeared.

Nags Head, in the same county was once haunted by the devil, as it seems from the following story of long ago:—

“As Mr. David Walter, of Pembrokeshire, a religious man, and far from fear and superstition, was travelling by himself through a field called the Cot Moor, where there are two stones set up called the Devil’s Nags, which are said to be haunted, he was suddenly seized and thrown over a hedge. He went there another day, taking with him for protection a strong fighting mastiff dog. When he had come near the Devil’s Nags there appeared in his path the apparition of a dog more terrible than any he had ever seen. In vain he tried to set his mastiff on; the huge beast crouched, frightened by his master’s feet and refused to attack the spectre. Whereupon his master boldly stooped to pick up a stone thinking that would frighten the evil dog; but suddenly a circle of fire surrounded it, which lighting up the gloom, showed the white snip down to the dog’s nose, and his grinning teeth, and white tail. He then knew it was one of the infernal dogs of hell.”

A black calf was supposed to haunt a stream that flowed across the road that leads from Narberth in Pembrokeshire to the adjacent village Cold Blow. People returning late that way were sure to get frightened as they passed and, as a consequence, they would go a long distance out of their way to avoid the haunted stream. One night, or rather early morning, two villagers were going home from a fair caught the terrible calf and took it home, locking it up safely with some cattle, but it had vanished when morning came.

Rhosygarth, between Llanilar and Lledrod, was a well-known haunted spot in former times. This demon often appeared on the road to travellers late at night in the form of a calf, but with a head much like that of a dog. Many years ago, Mr. Hughes, of Pantyddafad, was going home one night on horseback; but just as he was passing Rhosygarth, the ghost appeared, and passed across the road right in front of the horse. My informant, Thomas Jones, Pontrhydfendigaid, was a servant at Pantyddafad, heard the old gentleman often speaking about the ghost he had seen at Rhosygarth, and that Mr. Hughes was great-grand-father to Dr. Hughes, of Cwitycadno, Llanilar. Mr. Jones also added that he knew a young man who always laughed when people talked about seeing ghosts; but one night, a man (as he at first thought), followed him for about a mile, and after coming close to him, vanished into nothing. The young man nearly fainted, and after this never doubted the reality of the world of spirits.

Sir John Williams, Bart, now of Aberystwyth, informed me that when a boy in the neighbourhood of Gwynfi, Carmarthenshire, he often heard some of the old people speak of a ghost which haunted the road in that part of the country in former times. This ghost was known as “Bwci,” and always assumed the form of a horse. It is an old belief of the Celts that demons assumed the form of horses, and one of these mythic beings was the Water Horse, so well-known in North Scotland. It was also known in Wales once.

The Gwyllgi was a frightful apparition of a mastiff with baleful breath and blazing red eyes. In former times, an apparition in this shape haunted Pant y Madog, in the neighbourhood of Laugharne, Carmarthenshire. A woman named Rebecca Adams, passing this spot late one night, fell down in a swoon, when she saw the spectral dog coming towards her. When within a few yards of her it stopped, squatted on its hounchers, “and set up such a scream, so loud, so horrible, and so strong, that she thought the earth moved under her.” I was informed at Llangynog five years ago, that Spectral Dogs still haunt that part of Carmarthenshire; and more than one of my informants had seen such apparitions themselves.

A spirit in animal form was not always a demon; sometimes the Spirit of a mortal was doomed to wear this shape for some offence.

It was once believed that the Evil One, either from lust, or from nefarious designs, assumed the form of a young man or a young woman.

The following two stories, the first from South Pembrokeshire, and the other from Gower, have reference to this belief.

Giraldus Cambrensis in his Itinerary through Wales (Bohn’s edition, page 110) says:—

“In the province of Pembrock (Pembroke), another instance occurred, about the same time, of a spirit’s appearing in the house of Elidore de Stakepole, not only sensibly, but visibly, under the form of a red-haired young man, who called himself Simon. First seizing the keys from the person to whom they were entrusted, he impudently assumed the steward’s office, which he managed so prudently and providently, that all things seemed to abound under his care, and there was no deficiency in the house. Whatever the master or mistress secretly thought of having for their daily use or provision, he procured with wonderful agility, and without any previous directions, saying, “You wished that to be done, and it shall be done for you.” He was also well acquainted with their treasures and secret hoards, and sometimes upbraided them on that account; for as often as they seemed to act sparingly and avariciously, he used to say, “Why are you afraid to spend that heap of gold or silver, since your lives are of so short duration, and the money you so cautiously hoard up will never do you any service?” He gave the choicest meat and drink to the rustics and hired servants, saying that “Those persons should be abundantly supplied, by whose labours they were acquired.” Whatever he determined should be done, whether pleasing or displeasing to his master or mistress (for, as we have said before, he knew all their secrets), he completed in his usual expeditious manner, without their consent. He never went to church or uttered one catholic word. He did not sleep in the house, but was ready at his office in the morning. He was at length observed by some of the family to hold his nightly converse near a mill and a pool of water; upon which discovery, he was summoned the next morning before the master of the house and his lady, and, receiving his discharge, delivered up the keys, which he had held for upwards of forty days. Being earnestly interrogated, at his departure who he was? he answered, “That he was begotten upon the wife of a rustic in that parish, by a demon, in the shape of her husband, naming the man, and his father-in-law, then dead, and his mother, still alive; the truth of which the woman upon examination, openly avowed.”

For the following tale I am indebted to Mr. T. C. Evans (Cadrawd) the eminent antiquarian and folk-lorist of Llangynwyd:

“Once upon a time there lived a fair and gentle maiden in the neighbourhood of the Demon’s Rock, who often wandered out in the sunset and balmy summer evenings to meet her lover, and would return with her countenance radiant with joy, and the bright light of inexpressible rapture beaming in her love-lighted eye. Evening after evening would she stray out alone to the trysting place to meet her lover, and seemed as happy as a bird that warbles its morning song when the early sun gladdens the earth. However, it chanced that one of her companions followed her one moonlight night—saw the maiden go to a widespreading oak, and heard the whispering soft and low. She was surprised that she could not observe anyone, neither could she hear any reply to the maiden’s sweet and loving voice. Affrighted, she hastened back and said that a mysterious dread had crept over her while listening and watching her companion; they kept it secret, but questioned the maiden on her return. She said that her lover was a gentleman, and that she had promised to meet him the next evening in the same spot. The next evening they followed her again and saw her addressing the empty air—they felt assured now that it must be the Spirit of Darkness that was tempting the girl. Her companions warned her and told her how she had been watched, and that they could not see who or whom she spoke to.

“She became alarmed, but yet could not refrain from meeting her lover, (as she supposed), once again, as she had made a vow and bound herself by a solemn promise to meet him in this valley in the dead hour of the night. She was also bound to go alone. It was a fearful trial. The night came, the moon hid itself, and dark clouds swept hurriedly across the sky. With blanched cheeks and trembling steps the maiden approached the appointed place. She held (firmly grasped) in her hand a Bible, and as the traitor approached, a straggling gleam of moonshine revealed his form; and oh! horrible to relate, she saw the cloven hoof! With one long piercing cry for protection from heaven she fled; at the same instant the valley was filled with wild unearthly shrieks. The roar of the deafening thunder shook the hills to their foundations; wild and blinding lightnings, together with yells and howls from the legions of baffled fiends rushed by on the startled air.

“The bewildered whirlwinds dashed through the woodlands, snapping the oaks of a century like fragile reeds, or hurling them like feathers down into the brook—now a boiling torrent that swept all before it. In the morning a strange scene of devastation presented itself, and the woods seemed crumbled up; the valley was a chaotic mass of confusion, while in the centre of the hamlet was this huge stone which they say the vengeful demon tore from its firm bed on the hillside, and flung at the flying maiden as she evaded his grasp. It remains in the spot where it was cast, and is known as the Demon’s Rock.”

There is also a story all over Wales of the Evil One appearing to a young man as a lovely young lady.

The late Rev. Elias Owen, “Welsh Folk-Lore,” page 152, Vicar of Llanyblodwel, received the following tale from his deceased friend, the Rev. J. L. Davies, late Rector of Llangynog, who had obtained it from William Davies, the man who figures in the story:—

“William Davies, Penrhiw, near Aberystwyth, went to England for the harvest, and after having worked there about three weeks, he returned home alone, with all possible haste, as he knew that his father-in-law’s fields were by this time ripe for the sickle. He, however, failed to accomplish the journey before Sunday; but he determined to travel on Sunday, and thus reached home on Sunday night to be ready to commence reaping on Monday morning. His conscience, though, would not allow him to be at rest, but he endeavoured to silence its twittings by saying to himself that he had with him no clothes to go to a place of worship. He stealthily, therefore, walked on, feeling very guilty every step he took, and dreading to meet anyone going to Chapel or Church. By Sunday evening he had reached the hill overlooking Llanfihangel-y-Creuddyn, where he was known, so he determined not to enter the village until after the people had gone to their respective places of worship; he therefore sat down on the hill side and contemplated the scene below.

“He saw the people leave their houses for the House of God, he heard their songs of praise, and now he thinks he could venture to descend and pass through the village unobserved. Luckily, no one saw him going through the village, and now he has entered a barley field, and although still uneasy in mind, he feels somewhat reassured, and steps on quickly. He had not proceeded far in the barley field before he found himself surrounded by a large number of small pigs. He was not much struck by this, though he thought it strange that so many pigs should be allowed to wander about on the Sabbath Day. The pigs, however, came up to him, grunted and scampered away. Before he had traversed the barley field he saw approaching him an innumerable number of mice, and these, too, surrounded him, only, however, to stare at him, and then disappear. By this Davies began to be frightened, and he was almost sorry that he had broken the Sabbath Day by travelling with his pack on his back instead of keeping the day holy. He was not now very far from home, and this thought gave him courage and on he went. He had not proceeded any great distance from the spot where the mice had appeared when he saw a large grey-hound walking before him on the pathway. He anxiously watched the dog, but suddenly it vanished out of sight.

“By this, the poor man was thoroughly frightened, and many and truly sincere were his regrets that he had broken the Sabbath; but on he went. He passed through the village of Llanilar without any further fright. He had now gone about three miles from Llanfihangel along the road that goes to Aberystwyth, and he had begun to dispel the fear that had seized him, but to his horror he saw something approach him that made his hair stand on end. He could not at first make it out, but he soon clearly saw that it was a horse that was madly dashing towards him. He had only just time to step on to the ditch, when, horrible to relate, a headless white horse rushed passed him.

“His limbs shook and the perspiration stood out like beads on bis forehead. This terrible spectre he saw when close to Tan’rallt, but he dared not turn into the house, as he was travelling on Sunday, so on he went again, and heartily did he wish himself at home. In fear and dread he proceeded on his journey towards Penrhiw. The most direct way from Tan’rallt to Penrhiw was a pathway through the fields, and Davies took this pathway, and now he was in sight of his home, and he hastened towards the boundary fence between Tan’rallt and Penrhiw. He knew that there was a gap in the hedge that he could get through, and for this gap he aimed; he reached it, but further progress was impossible, for in the gap was a lady lying at full length, and immovable, and stopping up the gap entirely. Poor Davies was now more terrified than ever. He sprang aside, he screamed and then fainted right away. As soon as he recovered consciousness, he, on his knees, and in a loud supplicating voice, prayed for pardon. His mother and father-in-law heard him, and the mother knew the voice and said, “It is my Will! some mishap has overtaken him.” They went to him and found he was so weak that he could not move, and they were obliged to carry him home, where he recounted to them his marvellous experience. The late Rector of Llangynog, who was intimately acquainted with William Davies, had many conversations with him about his Sunday journey, and he argued the matter with him, and tried to persuade him that he had seen nothing, but that it was his imagination working on a nervous temperament that had created all his fantasies. He, however, failed to convince him, for Davies affirmed that it was no hallucination, but that what he had seen that Sunday was a punishment for his having broken the Fourth Commandment.

“Davies ever afterwards was a strict observer of the Sabbath.”

A writer in the Arch. Cam., 1850, page 73, says:—

In the Churchyard of Llanarth, near Aberaeron, on the South side of the Church, there is an inscribed stone (not hitherto published) of the twelfth century. It bears a cross covering the stone with four circular holes at the junction of the arms. The inscription is on the lower limb of the cross; but as it is made of a micaceous sandstone, part has been split off, and the inscription is much mutilated.... The current tradition of the place concerning it is, that one stormy night, some centuries ago, there was such a tremendous shindy going on up in the belfry that the whole village was put in commotion. It was conjectured that nobody but a certain ancient personage could be the cause of this, and, therefore, they fetched up his reverence from the vicarage to go and request the intruder to be off. Up went the vicar with bell, book and candle, along the narrow winding staircase, and, sure enough, right up aloft among the bells there was his majesty in person! No sooner, however, had the worthy priest began the usual ‘conjurate in nomine, etc.’ than away went the enemy up the remaining part of the staircase on to the leads of the tower. The Vicar, nothing daunted, followed, and pressed the intruder so briskly that the latter had nothing else to do than to leap over the battlements. He came down plump among the gravestones below; and, falling upon one, made with his hands and knees the four holes now visible on the stone in question.

Another writer in “Y Brython” for 1859, says, that the Devil’s purpose in troubling Llanarth Church was to rob it of one of its bells and carry it to Llanbadarn Fawr Church, near Aberystwyth, twenty miles distant, as the latter, though once a cathedral, had only two bells, whilst the former, only a parish church, had four. And an old story still lingers in the neighbourhood of Llanarth that the Devil whilst thus engaged in carrying the bell, put it down and rested and re-arranged his heavy load at the very commencement of his journey, and a particular spot between the church and the river on a road known as “Rhiw Cyrff,” is pointed out as the place where the D——l put down the bell. Moreover, it is added that from that day forth, the sound of Llanarth bells cannot be heard from that spot, though it is only a few yards from the church tower.

The Llanarth legend is the only story in Wales that I know of in which the Spirit of darkness carries a church bell, as it was believed in old times that the Evil One was afraid of bells, and fled away at the sound of them.

There are, however, traditions of churches troubled by the Devil in other parts of Wales besides Llanarth, and in the old superstitious times the north door of a church was called “Devil’s Door.”

It was thought that as the priest entered the church through the south door, the Evil Spirit was obliged to make his exit through the north door.

It might also be added that in former times no one was buried on the north side of a churchyard, as it was known as the “Domain of Demons.”

In some parts, especially on the borders of Cardiganshire and Carmarthenshire, it is believed that any one carrying a knife in his hands, will never see or be troubled by a spirit, even when passing a haunted spot in the depth of night.

When staying for a short time in the parish of Llandyssul about five years ago, I was told that there lived a few years ago a certain man in the village of Pontshan in that parish, who, when coming home late one night, saw a ghost on the roadside whilst passing a well-known haunted spot in the neighbourhood. The man took out his knife from his pocket, and the ghost vanished. After this, whenever he passed a haunted place the man held a knife in his hand, and never saw a ghost again. In South Pembrokeshire, a V-shaped twig of the mountain ash was considered a protective against spirits.

It was also believed once in all parts of Wales that to wear body-linen inside out, and to nail a horseshoe against the door kept away both evil spirits and witches. Even in the present day people all over the world think that there is some “good luck” in finding a horseshoe, and to a young girl it means a new lover.

When a spirit troubled a house in Wales, it was sometimes customary to call together the most godly persons in the parish to hold a prayer-meeting; at other times a conjurer, or a priest was sent for, for it was formerly thought that a clergyman had the power to “lay” or exorcise spirits. There were particular forms of exorcising. When the Devil was in the belfry of Llanarth Church, Cardiganshire, the Vicar went to drive away the Evil One, with “Bell, Book, and Candle.”

Until the time of Henry VIII., it seems that it was customary to curse mortals, as well as to exorcise fiends “with bell, book and candle”; for in an old book called “Dugdale’s Baronage,” published in 1675, it is said that in the 37th. year of Henry III., “a Curse was denounced in Westminster Hall against the violation of Magna Charta, with bell, book and candle.”

And in Fox’s account of the ceremony of excommunication, we are told that three candles were carried before the clergy, and that as each candle was extinguished prayer was made that the souls of malefactors and schismatics might be “given over utterly to the power of the fiend as this candle is now quenched and put out.”

Penpompren Plas is a small mansion near Talybont in North Cardiganshire. The late Mr. John Jones, Bristol House, informed me that there was a spirit there once troubling the family, and the servants, and especially the head servant who had no peace as the ghost followed the poor man everywhere whenever he went out at night, and often threw water into his face. At last the servant went to a wise man or a conjurer. The Conjurer came with him to Penpompren Plas to “lay” the Spirit, and transformed it into an insect, in a bottle, which was securely corked. Then the bottle was thrown under the river bridge close by.

There are many such stories in different parts of the country; and it is said that under the Monument Arch of Old Haverfordwest Bridge in Pembrokeshire, a spirit has been laid for a thousand years, and that at the expiration of that time it will again be free to roam the earth to trouble people.

About 60 years ago, a spirit which appeared in all forms, pig, mouse, hare, etc., at Alltisaf, Llanfynydd, in Carmarthenshire, was “laid” by the celebrated wizard, Harries, of Cwrtycadno. I was told of this by two old men in the village of Llanfynydd about five years ago.

Havod Uchtryd is a large mansion a few miles from Devil’s Bridge, in Cardiganshire, and there is a tradition in the neighbourhood that in the time of the celebrated Colonel Johnes about the beginning of the last century the place was haunted by a mischievous goblin. Fortunately, however, there happened to be a wizard nor far off, and the squire, so it is said, sent for him to Havod to lay the ghost. The conjurer came and when he arrived at the spot where the haunting usually took place he surrounded himself with an enchanted circle which the spirit could not break through. Then he opened a book and went through various incantations to invoke the spirit, which presented himself in various forms; first it appeared as a bull, secondly as a bulldog; and at last as a fly which rested on the wizard’s open book. In an instant the enchanter closed the book, and thus caught the evil one in a trap, and was only allowed to go out under the conditions that he should betake himself to the Devil’s Bridge, and there with an ounce hammer and tintack cut off a fathom of the rock. But notwithstanding this “laying” of the spirit one hundred years ago, there is a rumour still throughout the whole North of Cardiganshire, that Hafod is still haunted.

About 70 or 80 years ago, Monachty, a fine mansion in the neighbourhood of Aberaeron, was rumoured to be haunted. My informant is an old man named James Jones, Golden Lion, Llanarth. Jones said that when he was a boy at Pantycefn, he often felt almost too terrified to go to bed, as it was reported that the Monachty ghost was so small that it could go through even the eye of a needle; and his father’s humble cottage was not without holes especially the window of his bedroom.

At last, however, Students from Ystrad Meurig College were sent for to Monachdy to lay the ghost, which they did, so Jones said, and they doomed the unearthly being to cut a rock near Llanrhystyd, which proves that students, as well as Clergymen and ministers, had the reputation of being able to lay spirits.

Stackpole Court, the beautiful residence of the distinguished Earl of Cawdor, is famous for its legendary lore. “Seven hundred years ago, Giraldus Cambrensis tells the story of Sir Elidur de Stackpole’s demon steward, whose name was Simon; and in the more modern times the neighbourhood was haunted by the spirit of an old lady. This ghost appeared in the form of a party consisting of two headless horses, a headless coachman and a headless lady in her carriage.

At last the ghost was “laid” by the Parson of St. Patrox, who doomed it to empty a pond with a cockle shell for a ladle, so that the phantom is not seen now.

There are several versions of this ghost story, and Col. Lambton, of Brownslade, who is much interested in Folk-Lore and Antiquities, informed me that the headless lady was known as “Lady Mathias.”

The idea of giving employment to a spirit is most ancient, and in Grecian and Roman Mythology we find that the Danaides, or the fifty daughters of Danaus, who all, except one, slew their husbands on their wedding night, were doomed in Tartarus to draw water in sieves from a well until they had filled a vessel full of holes.

It seems from the following story, which I obtained from the Rev. J. Jones, Brynmeherin, near Ystrad Meurig, that a ghost will not follow one through water:—

About 35 years ago, there lived at Ynysfach, near Ystrad Meurig, an old man and an old woman known as “Shon and Shan.”

Shon was working in North Wales, for he was a quarryman at the time, but he came home occasionally to spend his holidays with his wife, especially about Christmas time.

On one occasion, however, when Shan expected her husband home the day before Christmas as usual, Shon came not. Nine o’clock in the evening she went out to meet him or to search for him and to prevent him spending his money on beer at a public house which his friend, a saddler kept at Tyngraig. But her husband was not at the public house, nor was he seen anywhere, so the old woman had to return home in disappointment. It was a cloudless moonlight night, almost as light as day, but the road was lonely and the hour late, and when she had walked some distance, to her great terror, she noticed a ghost in the field making his way nearer and nearer to her till at last the strange object came to the hedge on the roadside quite close to her. Frightened as she was, she struck the ghost with the strong walking-stick which she held in her hand, saying “D——l! thou shalt follow me no longer.”

When Shan struck the ghost her walking-stick went right through the head of the strange object, but she did not “feel” that it touched anything—It was like striking a fog; but the spirit vanished into nothing, and Shan walked on. The ghost was now invisible, but the old woman “felt” that it still followed her, though she could not see it; but when she was crossing a brook she became aware that her pursuer left her.

Two young women, daughters of a farmer in the parish of Llandyssul, were walking home one night from Lampeter Fair. After reaching the very field in one corner of which the house in which they lived stood, they wandered about this field for hours before they could find the building, though it was a fine moonlight night.

It seemed as if the farm house had vanished; and they informed me that they were convinced that this was the doings of the Goblin, who played them a trick.

The Welsh word for Goblin is Ellyll.