The next subject I shall treat of is curious, and partakes of the nature of spiritualism. I hardly know by what other word to describe it, therefore I will give particulars, so as to make the matter intelligible to the reader, and call it “Spiritualism.”

It was believed that it was possible for the spirit to leave the body, and then, after an absence of some time, to return again and re-enter it. The form the spirit assumed when it quitted the body was a bluish light like that of a candle, but somewhat longer. This light left the body through the mouth, and re-entered the same way.

The writer was informed by a certain female friend at Llandegla that she had seen a bluish light leave the mouth of a person who was sick, light which she thought was the life, or spirit of that person, but the person did not immediately die.

For another tale of this kind I am indebted to Mr. R. Roberts, who lives in the village of Clocaenog, near Ruthin. He was not himself a witness of the occurrence, but vouches for the accuracy of the report. It is as follows:—

A Spirit leaving and re-entering the body.

A man was in love with two young girls, and they were both in love with him, and they knew that he flirted with them both. It is but natural to suppose that these young ladies did not, being rivals, love each other. It can well be believed that they heartily disliked each other. One evening, according to custom, this young man spent the night with one of his sweethearts, and to all appearance she fell asleep, or was in a trance, for she looked very pale. He noticed her face, and was frightened by its death-like pallor, but he was greatly surprised to see a bluish flame proceed out of her mouth, and go towards the door. He followed this light, and saw it take the direction of the house in which his other love lived, and he observed that from that house, too, a like light was travelling, as if to meet the light that he was following. Ere long these lights met each other, and they apparently fought, for they dashed into each other, and flitted up and down, as if engaged in mortal combat. The strife continued for some time, and then the lights separated and departed in the direction of the respective houses where the two young women lived. The man returned to the house of the young woman with whom he was spending the night, following close on the light, which he saw going before him, and which re-entered her body through her mouth; and then she immediately awoke.

Here, presumedly, these two troubled young ladies met in a disembodied form to contend for the possession of this young man.

A tale much like the preceding occurs on page 283.

There is something akin to this spectral appearance believed in in Scotland, where the apparition is called Wraith, which word is defined in Jameson’s Etymological Dictionary, published by Gardner, 1882, thus:—

“Wraith, etc.: Properly an apparition in the exact likeness of a person, supposed by the vulgar to be seen before, or soon after, death.”

This definition does not correspond exactly to what has been said of the Welsh spirit appearance, but it teaches the possibility, or shows the people’s faith in the possibility, of the soul’s existence apart from the body. It would seem that in Scotland this spectre is seen before, or after, death; but the writer has read of a case in which the wraith of a person appeared to himself and was the means of saving his life, and that he long survived after his other self had rescued him from extreme danger.

Lately a legend of Lake Ogwen went the round of the papers, but the writer, who lived many years in the neighbourhood of that lake, never heard of it until he saw it in the papers in 1887. As it bears on the subject under consideration, I will in part transcribe the story:—

“On one of these occasions a friend who had known something of the Welsh gipsies repeated to Rossetti an anecdote which had been told him as a ‘quite true fack’ by a Romani girl—an anecdote touching another Romani girl whose wraith had been spirited away in the night from the ‘camping place’ by the incantations of a wicked lover, had been seen rushing towards Ogwen Lake in the moonlight, ‘While all the while that ’ere same chavi wur asleep an’ a-sobbin’ in her daddy’s livin’ waggin.’”—Bye-Gones, Ap. 13, 1887.

This tale resembles in many respects the one given on page 291, for there is in both a lover and a sleeping girl, and the girl does not die, but there are minor differences in the tales, as might be expected.

In Germany like tales are current. Baring-Gould, in his Myths of the Middle Ages, pp. 423-4, says:—

“The soul in German mythology is supposed to bear some analogy to a mouse. In Thuringia, at Saalfeld, a servant girl fell asleep whilst her companions were shelling nuts. They observed a little red mouse creep out of her mouth and run out of the window. One of the fellows present shook the sleeper but could not wake her, so he moved her to another place. Presently the mouse ran back to the former place and dashed about seeking the girl; not finding her, it vanished; at the same moment the girl died.”

One other tale on this subject I will give, which appeared in the North Wales Chronicle for April 22, 1883, where it is headed—

A Spiritualistic Story from Wales.

“In an article relating to spiritualism in the February number of the Fortnightly Review, a story was told which is here shortened. The anecdote is given on the authority of a Welsh gentleman named Roberts, who resided at Cheetham, near Manchester, and the scene of the adventure is Beaumaris, the date 184--. The narrator was then an apprentice in a draper’s shop. His master was strict, and allowed his apprentice but half an hour for dinner, which he had to take at his lodgings, some distance away from the shop. At whatever time he left the shop he had to be back there punctually at half past twelve. One day he was late, and while hastily swallowing his meat, his aunt being at the table, he looked up and saw that the clock pointed to half past twelve! He was thunderstruck, and, with the fear of his master before him, all but lost consciousness, and was indeed in a dazed state for a few minutes, as was noticed by those at the table. Shaking this off by an effort, he again looked at the clock, and, to his relief and astonishment, saw that the hands only pointed to a quarter past twelve. Then he quickly finished his dinner and returned to the shop at the appointed time. There he was told that at a quarter past twelve he had returned to the shop, put up his hat, moved about in an absent manner, had been scolded, and had thereupon put on his hat again and walked out. Several persons on the one hand corroborated this story, whilst on the other his aunt was positive that, although at that moment he had fallen into a strange fit of abstraction, he had never left the table. This is the narrative, attested by a gentleman now living. The year 184-- is not so far back; perhaps there are still those residing on the upper side of the turf at Beaumaris who remember the circumstance.”

This tale in its nature is not unlike the others herein given. It belongs to the supernatural side of life.

However improbable these stories may appear, they point to the notion that spirits can exist independently of the body. The Irish fetch, the Scotch wraith, and the Welsh Canwyll Corph, are alike in their teaching, but of this latter I shall speak more particularly when treating of death portents.

A Doctor called from his bed by a Voice.

Mr. Hugh Lloyd, Llanfihangel-Glyn-Myfyr, who received the story from Dr. Davies, the gentleman who figures in the tale, informed me of the following curious incidents:—

Doctor Davies, of Cerrig-y-drudion, had gone to bed and slept, but in the night he heard someone under his bedroom window shout that he was wanted in a farmhouse called Craigeirchan, which was three miles from the doctor’s abode, and the way thereto was at all times beset with difficulties, such as opening and shutting the many gates; but of a night the journey to this mountain farm was one that few would think of taking, unless called to do so by urgent business. The doctor did not pay much attention to the first request, but he lay quietly on the bed listening, and almost immediately he heard the same voice requesting him to go at once to Craigeirchan, as he was wanted there. He now got up to the window, but could not see anyone; he therefore re-entered his bed, but for the third time he heard the voice telling him to go to the farm named, and now he opened the window and said that he would follow the messenger forthwith. The doctor got up, went to the stable, saddled the horse, and off he started for a long dismal ride over a wild tract of mountain country; such a journey he had often taken. He was not surprised that he could not see, nor hear, anyone in advance, for he knew that Welsh lads are nimble of foot, and could, by cutting across fields, etc., outstrip a rider. At last he neared the house where he was wanted, and in the distance he saw a light, and by this sign he was convinced that there was sickness in the house. He drove up to the door and entered the abode, to the surprise but great joy of the inmates. To his inquiry after the person who had been sent for him, he was told that no one had left the house, nor had anyone been requested by the family to go to the doctor. But he was told his services were greatly wanted, for the wife was about to become a mother, and the doctor was instrumental in saving both the life of the child and mother.

What makes this tale all the more curious is the fact, that the doctor was an unbeliever in such things as ghosts, etc., and he had often enjoyed a quiet laugh over the tales he heard of a supernatural kind. Mr. Lloyd asked the doctor whether he had heard of the woman’s condition, but he affirmed he was ignorant of everything connected with the place and family.

Another Tale of a Doctor.

I received the following tale from the Rev. Philip Edwards, formerly curate at Selattyn, near Oswestry:—

There was, or perhaps is—for my informant says he believes the lady is still alive—in a place called Swyddffynnon, Cardiganshire, 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 then he placed his riding whip across 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. The 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 had been stated by Mrs. Evans. There was also a light in the chamber, for there the neighbours 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.