Formerly, at baptisms, the north church door was, in Wales, left open,

and that too for the same reason that it was opened before the hours of

prayer. But these superstitions have departed, as intimated by the

blocking up of north church doors.

_Satan and Bell Ringing_.

Durand, according to Bourne, in his _Antiquities of the Common People_,

ed. 1725, p. 17, was of opinion that Devils were much afraid of bells,

and fled away at the sound of them. Formerly, in all parts of Wales, the

passing bell was tolled for the dying. This is a very ancient custom

being alluded to by the Venerable Bede--

When the bell begins to toll,

Lord, have mercy on the soul.

A small hand bell was also rung by the parish clerk as he preceded the

funeral procession, and the church bell was tolled before, at, and after

the burial. I do not know whether this was done because the people,

entertaining Durand's opinion, wished to save the souls and bodies of

their departed friends from Satan. Reference is often made to small

handbells in parish terriers, and they are enumerated in those documents

with other church property. Thus, in Llanfair Dyffryn Clwyd terrier,

1729, among the articles mentioned as belonging to the church is a small

bell:--

"A little bell to be rung before the corps."

In Rhuddlan terrier, 1791, we find:--

"One small bell, and another small corps bell."

I may say that there is hardly a terrier belonging to a Church in North

Wales which does not mention this portable handbell. Although the modern

reason given for their use at funerals was, that all impediments might be

removed from the roads before the funeral procession arrived, still it is

probable that the custom at one time meant something more than this. The

custom does not at present exist.

_Giraldus Cambrensis_ thus alludes to these handbells:--

"I must not omit that the portable bells . . . were held in great

reverence by the people and clergy both in Ireland, Scotland, and

Wales; insomuch that they had greater regard for oaths sworn on these

than on the gospels."--Bohn's Edition, p. 146.

As it was thought that the Passing Bell was originally intended to drive

away the Evil Spirit hovering about in readiness to seize the soul of the

deceased, so it might have been thought that the tolling of these

handbells at funerals kept the Great Enemy away from the body about to be

consigned to consecrated ground. But from a couple of lines quoted by

Bourne, p. 14, from Spelman, in which all the ancient offices of bells

seem to be included, it does not appear that this opinion was then

current. The lines are:--

Laudo Deum verum, Plebem voco, congrego Clerum,

Defunctos ploro, pestem fugo, Festa decoro.

I praise the true God, call the people, convene the Clergy,

Lament the dead, dispel pestilence, grace Festivals.

There is nothing in these lines corroborative of Durand's opinion, but as

I do not know the age of the lines I cannot controvert his opinion, but

if it was believed that the tolling of a bell could drive away

pestilence, well can it be understood that its sound could be credited

with being inimical to Evil Spirits, and that it sent them away to other

places to seek for rest.

It certainly was an opinion, according to Croker, entertained in Ireland

and elsewhere, that the dwarfs or fairies, were driven away from places

by the ringing of the bells of churches, and Croker in his _Fairy Legends

of Ireland_, vol. ii., p. 106, states that Thiele collected traditions

according to which the Troldes leave the country on the ringing of bells,

and remain away. Thus these mythic beings are confounded with Satan;

indeed Croker remarks (vol. i., p. 46) "The notion of fairies, dwarfs,

brownies, etc., being excluded from salvation, and of their having formed

part of the crew that fell with Satan, seems to be pretty general all

over Europe." He instances Ireland, Denmark, and Spain.

Bells certainly were objects of great superstition. In Dyer's _English

Folk-Lore_, p. 264, it is stated that--Wynkin de Worde tells us that

bells are rung during thunder storms, to the end that fiends and wicked

Spirits should be abashed and flee and cease the moving of the tempest.

Croker also remarks in vol. ii., p. 140, of the above-named work:--"The

belief in fairies and Spirits prevailed over all Europe long before the

introduction of Christianity. The teachers of the new faith endeavoured

to abolish the deeply-rooted heathenish ideas and customs of the people,

by representing them as sinful and connected with the Devil." In this

way the Devil inherited many attributes that once belonged to the

Fairies, and these beings were spoken of as Evil Spirits, Fiends, or

Devils.

I now come to another kind of Welsh Folk-Lore associated with fairies,

Evil Spirits, or some mysterious power, that is the removal of churches

from one site to another. The agency employed varies, but the work of

the day disappeared in the night, and the materials were found, it is

said, the next morning, on the spot where the church was to be erected.

_Mysterious Removal of Churches_.

I. LLANLLECHID CHURCH.

There was a tradition extant in the parish of Llanllechid, near Bangor,

Carnarvonshire, that it was intended to build a church in a field called

Cae'r Capel, not far from Plasuchaf Farm, but it was found the next

morning that the labours of the previous day had been destroyed, and that

the materials had been transported in the night to the site of the

present church. The workmen, however, carried them all back again, and

resumed their labours at Cae'r Capel, but in vain, for the next day they

found their work undone, and the wood, stones, etc., in the place where

they had found them when their work was first tampered with. Seeing that

it was useless fighting against a superior power, they desisted, and

erected the building on the spot indicated by the destroyers of their

labours.

I asked the aged, what or who it was that had carried away the materials:

some said it was done by Spirits, others by Fairies, but I could obtain

no definite information on the point. However, they all agreed that the

present site was more convenient for the parishioners than the old one.

Many legends of this kind are current in Wales. They are all much alike

in general outline. A few only therefore shall be mentioned.

II. CORWEN CHURCH.

In Thomas's _History of the Diocese of St. Asaph_, p. 687, the legend

connected with the erection of the present church is given as

follows:--"The legend of its (Corwen Church) original foundation states

that all attempts to build the church in any other spot than where stood

the 'Carreg y Big yn y fach rewlyd,' i.e., 'The pointed stone in the icy

nook,' were frustrated by the influence of certain adverse powers."

No agency is mentioned in this narrative. When questioned on such a

matter, the aged, of forty years ago, would shake their heads in an

ominous kind of manner, and remain silent, as if it were wrong on their

part to allude to the affair. Others, more bold, would surmise that it

was the work of a Spirit, or of the Fairies. By and by I shall give Mr.

A. N. Palmer's solution of the mystery.

III. CAPEL GARMON CHURCH.

A legend much like the preceding is current respecting Capel Garmon

Church. I will give the story in the words of my friend, the Rev. Owen

Jones, Pentrevoelas, who writes to me thus:--

"The tradition is that Capel Garmon Church was to have been built on the

side of the mountain just above the present village, near the Well now

called Ffynnon Armon, but the materials carried there in the daytime were

in a mysterious manner conveyed by night to the present site of the

church."

IV. LLANFAIR DYFFRYN CLWYD.

For the following legend, I am indebted to Mr. R. Prys Jones, who resided

for several years in the parish of Llanfair Dyffryn Clwyd. In answer to

a letter from me respecting mysterious removal of churches, Mr. Jones

writes as follows:--

"We have the same tradition in connection with a place not very far from

Llanfair village. It was first intended to erect Llanfair Church on the

spot where Jesus Chapel now stands, or very near to it. Tradition

ascribes the failure of erecting the structure to a phantom in the shape

of _a sow's head_, destroying in the night what had been built during the

day. The farm house erected on the land is still called

_Llanbenwch_"--Llan-pen-hwch, i.e., the _Llan_, _or church_, _of the

Sow's Head_.

In this tale the agent is a sow, and Mr. Gomme in the _Antiquary_, vol.

iii. p. 9, records a like story of Winwick Parish Church, Lancashire. He

states that the founder had destined a different site for this church,

"but after progress had been made at the original foundation, at night

time, 'a pig' was seen running hastily to the site of the new church,

crying or screaming aloud We-ee-wick, we-ee-wick, we-ee-wick.' Then

taking up a stone in his mouth he carried it to the spot sanctified by

the death of St. Oswald, and thus succeeded in removing all the stones

which had been laid by the builders."

V. LLANFIHANGEL GENEU'R GLYN.

The traveller who has gone to Aberystwyth by the Cambrian Line has, most

probably, noticed on the left hand side, shortly after he has left Borth,

a small church, with a churchyard that enters a wood to the west of the

church, the grave stones being seen among the trees. There is in

connection with this church a legend much like those already given. I am

indebted to the Rev. J. Felix, vicar of Cilcen, near Mold, for the

following account of the transaction.

"It was intended to build Llanfihangel Church at a place called

Glanfread, or Glanfread-fawr, which at present is a respectable farm

house, and the work was actually commenced on that spot, but the portion

built during the day was pulled down each night, till at last a Spirit

spoke in these words:--

Llanfihangel Geneu'r Glyn,

Glanfread-fawr gaiff fod fan hyn.

Llanfihangel Geneu'r Glyn,

Glanfread-fawr shall stand herein,"

intimating that the church was to be built at Geneu'r Glyn, and that

Glanfreadfawr farm house was to occupy the place where they were then

endeavouring to build the church. The prophecy, or warning, was attended

to, and the church erection abandoned, but the work was carried out at

Geneu'r Glyn, in accordance with the Spirit's direction, and the church

was built in its present position.

VI. WREXHAM CHURCH.

The following extract is from Mr. A. Neobard Palmer's excellent _History

of the Parish Church of Wrexham_, p. 6:--"There is a curious local

tradition, which, _as I understand it_, points distinctly to a

re-erection of one of the earlier churches on a site different from that

on which the church preceding it had stood."

"According to the tradition just mentioned, which was collected and first

published by the late Mr. Hugh Davies, the attempt to build the church on

another spot (at Bryn-y-ffynnon as 't is said), was constantly

frustrated, that which was set up during the day being plucked down in

the night. At last, one night when the work wrought on the day before

was being watched, the wardens saw it thrown suddenly down, and heard a

voice proceeding from a Spirit hovering above them which cried ever

'Bryn-y-grog!' 'Bryn-y-grog!' Now the site of the present church was at

that time called 'Bryn-y-grog' (Hill of the Cross), and it was at once

concluded that this was the spot on which the church should be built.

The occupier of this spot, however, was exceedingly unwilling to part

with the inheritance of his forefathers, and could only be induced to do

so when the story which has just been related was told to him, and other

land given him instead. The church was then founded at 'Bryn-y-grog,'

where the progress of the work suffered no interruption, and where the

Church of Wrexham still stands."

Mr. Palmer, having remarked that there is a striking resemblance between

all the traditions of churches removed mysteriously, proceeds to solve

the difficulty, in these words:--

"The conclusions which occurred to me were, that these stories 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_. The destroying powers of which they all speak

were probably human agents, working in the interest of those who were

concerned in the transference of the site of the church about to be

re-built; while the stories, as a whole, were apparently concocted and

circulated with the intention of overbearing the opposition which the

proposed transference raised--an opposition due to the inconvenience of

the site proposed, to sacred associations connected with the older site,

or to the unwillingness of the occupier to surrender the spot selected."

This is, as everything Mr. Palmer writes, pertinent, and it is a

reasonable solution, but whether it can be made to apply to all cases is

somewhat doubtful. Perhaps we have not sufficient data to arrive at a

correct explanation of this kind of myth. The objection was to the

_place_ selected and not to the _building_ about to be erected on that

spot; and the _agents_ engaged in the destruction of the proposed edifice

differ in different places; and in many instances, where these traditions

exist, the land around, as regards agricultural uses, was equally useful,

or equally useless, and often the distance between the two sites is not

great, and the land in our days, at least, and presumably in former,

belonged to the same proprietor--if indeed it had a proprietor at all.

We must, therefore, I think, look outside the occupier of the land for

objections to the surrender of the spot first selected as the site of the

new church.

Mr. Gomme, in an able article in the _Antiquary_, vol. iii., p. 8-13, on

"Some traditions and superstitions connected with buildings," gives many

typical examples of buildings removed by unseen agencies, and, from the

fact that these stories are found in England, Scotland, and other parts,

he rightly infers that they had a common origin, and that they take us

back to primitive times of British history. The cause of the removal of

the stones in those early times, or first stage of their history, is

simply described as _invisible agency_, _witches_, _fairies_; in the

second stage of these myths, the supernatural agency becomes more clearly

defined, thus:--_doves_, _a pig_, _a cat_, _a fish_, _a bull_, do the

work of demolishing the buildings, and Mr. Gomme remarks with reference

to these animals:--"Now here we have some glimmer of light thrown upon

the subject--the introduction of animal life leads to the subject of

animal sacrifice." I will not follow Mr. Gomme in this part of his

dissertation, but I will remark that the agencies he mentions as

belonging to the first stage are identical in Wales, England, and

Scotland, and we have an example of the second stage in Wales, in the

traditions of Llanfair Dyffryn Clwyd, and of Llangar Church, near Corwen.

VII. LLANGAR CHURCH.

"The tradition is that Llangar Church was to have been built near the

spot where the Cynwyd Bridge crosses the Dee. Indeed, we are told that

the masons set to work, but all the stones they laid in the day were gone

during the night none knew whither. The builders were warned,

supernaturally, that they must seek a spot where on hunting a 'Carw Gwyn'

(white stag) would be started. They did so, and Llangar Church is the

result. From this circumstance the church was called Llan-garw-gwyn, and

from this name the transition to Llangar is easy."--_Gossiping Guide to

Wales_, p. 128.

I find in a document written by the Rural Dean for the guidance of the

Bishop of St. Asaph, in 1729, that the stag was started in a thicket

where the Church of Llangar now stands. "And (as the tradition is) the

boundaries of the parish on all sides were settled for 'em by this poor

deer, where he was forc'd to run for his life, there lye their bounds.

He at last fell, and the place where he was killed is to this day called

_Moel y Lladdfa_, or the _Hill of Slaughter_."

VIII. ST. DAVID'S CHURCH, DENBIGH.

There is a tradition connected with Old St. David's Church, Denbigh,

recorded in Gee's _Guide to Denbigh_, that the building could not be

completed, because whatever portion was finished in the day time was

pulled down and carried to another place at night by some invisible hand,

or supernatural power.

The party who malignantly frustrates the builders' designs is in several

instances said to have been the Devil. "We find," says Mr. William

Crossing, in the _Antiquary_, vol. iv., p. 34, "that the Church of

Plymton St. Mary, has connected with it the legend so frequently attached

to ecclesiastical buildings, of the removal by the _Enemy of Mankind_ of

the building materials by night, from the spot chosen for its erection to

another at some distance."

And again, Mr A. N. Palmer, quoting in the _Antiquary_, vol. iv., p. 34,

what was said at the meeting of the British Association, in 1878, by Mr.

Peckover, respecting the detached Tower of the Church of West Walton,

near Wisbech, Norfolk, writes:--"During the early days of that Church the

Fenmen were very wicked, and the _Evil Spirit_ hired a number of people

to carry the tower away."

Mr. W. S. Lach-Szyrma, in the _Antiquary_, vol. iii., p. 188,

writes:--"Legends of _the Enemy of Mankind_ and some old buildings are

numerous enough--e.g., it is said that as the masons built up the towers

of Towednack Church, near St. Ives, the _Devil_ knocked the stones down;

hence its dwarfed dimensions."

The preceding stories justify me in relegating this kind of myth to the

same class as those in which spirits are driven from churches and _laid_

in a neighbouring pool; and perhaps in these latter, as in the former, is

dimly seen 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.

_Apparitions of the Devil_.

To accomplish his nefarious designs the Evil Spirit assumed forms

calculated to attain his object. The following lines from Allan

Cunningham's _Traditional Tales_, p. 9, aptly describe his

transformations:--

Soon he shed

His hellish slough, and many a subtle wile

Was his to seem a heavenly spirit to man,

First, he a hermit, sore subdued in flesh,

O'er a cold cruse of water and a crust,

Poured out meet prayers abundant. Then he changed

Into a maid when she first dreams of man,

And from beneath two silken eyelids sent,

The sidelong light of two such wondrous eyes,

That all the saints grew sinners . . .

Then a professor of God's word he seemed,

And o'er a multitude of upturned eyes

Showered blessed dews, and made the pitchy path,

Down which howl damned Spirits, seem the bright

Thrice hallowed way to Heaven; yet grimly through

The glorious veil of those seducing shapes,

Frowned out the fearful Spirit.

S. Anthony, in the wilderness, as related in his life by S. Athanasius,

had many conflicts in the night with the powers of darkness, Satan

appearing personally to him, to batter him from the strongholds of his

faith. S. Dunstan, in his cell, was tempted by the Devil in the form of

a lovely woman, but a grip of his nose with a heated tongs made him

bellow out, and cease his nightly visits to that holy man. Ezra Peden,

as related by Allan Cunningham, was also tempted by one who "was indeed

passing fair," and the longer he looked on her she became the

lovelier--"_owre lovely for mere flesh and blood_," and poor Peden

succumbed to her wiles.

From the book of Tobit it would appear that an Evil Spirit slew the first

seven husbands of Sara from jealousy and lust, in the vain hope of

securing her for himself. In Giraldus Cambrensis's _Itinerary through

Wales_, Bohn's ed., p. 411 demons are shown to possess those qualities

which are ascribed to them in the Apocryphal book of Tobit.

There is nothing new, as far as I am aware, respecting the doings of the

Great Enemy of mankind in Welsh Folk-Lore. His tactics in the

Principality evince no originality. They are the usual weapons used by

him everywhere, and these he found to be sufficient for his purposes even

in Wales.

Gladly would I here put down my pen and leave the uncongenial task of

treating further about the spirits of darkness to others, but were I to

do so, I should be guilty of a grave omission, for, as I have already

said, ghosts, goblins, spirits, and other beings allied to Satan, occupy

a prominent place in Welsh Folk-Lore.

Of a winter's evening, by the faint light of a peat fire and rush

candles, our forefathers recounted the weird stories of olden times, of

devils, fairies, ghosts, witches, apparitions, giants, hidden treasures,

and other cognate subjects, and they delighted in implanting terrors in

the minds of the listeners that no philosophy, nor religion of after

years, could entirely eradicate. These tales made a strong impression

upon the imagination, and possibly upon the conduct of the people, and

hence the necessity laid upon me to make a further selection of the many

tales that I have collected on this subject.

I will begin with a couple of stories extracted from the work of the Rev.

Edmund Jones, by a writer in the _Cambro-Briton_, vol. ii., p. 276.

_Satan appearing to a Man who was fetching a Load of Bibles_, _etc._

"A Mr. Henry Llewelyn, having been sent to Samuel Davies, of Ystrad

Defodoc Parish, in Glamorganshire, to fetch a load of books, viz.,

Bibles, Testaments, Watts's Psalms, Hymns, and Songs for Children,

said--Coming home by night towards Mynyddustwyn, having just passed by

Clwyd yr Helygen ale-house, and being in a dry part of the lane--the

mare, which he rode, stood still, and, like the ass of the ungodly

Balaam, would go no farther, but kept drawing back. Presently he could

see a living thing, round like a bowl, rolling from the right hand to the

left, and crossing the lane, moving sometimes slow and sometimes very

swift--yea, swifter than a bird could fly, though it had neither wings

nor feet,--altering also its size. It appeared three times, less one

time than another, seemed least when near him, and appeared to roll

towards the mare's belly. The mare would then want to go forward, but he

stopped her, to see more carefully what manner of thing it was. He

staid, as he thought, about three minutes, to look at it; but, fearing to

see a worse sight, he thought it high time to speak to it, and

said--'What seekest thou, thou foul thing? In the name of the Lord

Jesus, go away!' And by speaking this it vanished, and sank into the

ground near the mare's feet. It appeared to be of a _reddish oak

colour_."

In a footnote to this tale we are told that formerly near Clwyd yr

Helygen, the Lord's Day was greatly profaned, and "it may be that the

Adversary was wroth at the good books and the bringer of them; for he

well knew what burden the mare carried."

The editor of the _Cambro-Briton_ remarks that the superstitions

recorded, if authentic, "are not very creditable to the intelligence of

our lower classes in Wales; but it is some satisfaction to think that

none of them are of recent date." The latter remark was, I am sorry to

say, rather premature.

One other quotation from the same book I will here make.

_The Devil appearing to a Dissenting Minister at Denbigh_.

"The Rev. Mr. Thomas Baddy, who lived in Denbigh Town, and was a

Dissenting Minister in that place, went into his study one night, and

while he was reading or writing, he heard some one behind him laughing

and grinning at him, which made him stop a little--as well indeed it

might. It came again, and then he wrote on a piece of paper, that

devil-wounding scripture, 1st John, 3rd,--'For this was the Son of God

manifested, that he might destroy the works of the Devil,'--and held it

backwards from him, when the laughing ceased for ever; for it was a

melancholy word to a scoffing Devil, and enough to damp him. It would

have damped him yet more, if he had shewn him James, ii. 19--'The devils

believe and tremble.' But he had enough for one time."

The following objectless tale, still extant, I believe, in the

mountainous parts of Denbighshire, is another instance of the credulity

in former days of the people.

_Satan seen Lying right across a Road_.

The story related to me was as follows:--Near Pentrevoelas lived a man

called John Ty'nllidiart, who was in the habit of taking, yearly, cattle

from the uplands in his neighbourhood, to be wintered in the Vale of

Clwyd. Once, whilst thus engaged, he saw lying across the road right in

front of him and the cattle, and completely blocking up the way, Satan

with his head on one wall and his tail on the other, moaning horribly.

John, as might be expected, hurried homewards, leaving his charge to take

their chance with the Evil One, but long before he came to his house, the

odour of brimstone had preceded him, and his wife was only too glad to

find that it was her husband that came through the door, for she thought

that it was someone else that was approaching.

_The Devil's Tree by Eglwys Rhos_, _near Llandudno_.

At the corner of the first turning after passing the village of Llanrhos,

on the left hand side, is a withered oak tree, called by the natives of

those parts the Devil's Tree, and it was thought to be haunted, and

therefore the young and timid were afraid to pass it of a dark night.

The Rev. W. Arthur Jones, late Curate of the parish, told me that his

horse was in the habit of shying whenever it came opposite this blighted

tree, and his servant accounted for this by saying that the horse saw

something there which was invisible to the sight of man. Be this as it

may, the tree has an uncanny appearance and a bad reputation, which some

years ago was greatly increased by an occurrence that happened there to

Cadwaladr Williams, a shoemaker, who lived at Llansantffraid Glan Conway.

Cadwaladr was in the habit of carrying his work home to Llandudno to his

customers every Saturday night in a wallet, and with the money which they

paid him he bought eatables for the coming week, and carried shoes to be

patched in one end of the wallet, and groceries, etc., in the other end,

and, by adjusting the wallet he balanced it, and carried it, over his

shoulders, home again.

This shoemaker sometimes refreshed himself too freely before starting

homewards from Llandudno, and he was in the habit of turning into the

public house at Llanrhos to gain courage to pass the Devil's Tree.

One Saturday night, instead of quietly passing this tree on the other

side, he walked fearlessly up to it, and defied the Evil One to appear if

he were there. No sooner had he uttered the defiant words than something

fell from the tree, and lit upon his shoulders, and grasped poor

Cadwaladr's neck with a grip of iron. He fought with the incubus

savagely to get rid of it, but all his exertions were in vain, and so he

was obliged to proceed on his journey with this fearful thing clinging to

him, which became heavier and heavier every step he took. At last,

thoroughly exhausted, he came to Towyn, and, more dead than alive, he

reached a friend's door and knocked, and oh, what pleasure, before the

door was opened the weight on his back had gone, but his friend knew who

it was that Cadwaladr had carried from the Devil's Tree.

_Satan appearing as a Lovely Maiden_.

The following story I received from the Rev. Owen Jones, Pentrevoelas.

As regards details it is a fragment.

A young man who was walking from Dyserth to Rhyl was overtaken by a

lovely young lady dressed in white. She invited conversation, and they

walked together awhile talking kindly, but, when they came opposite a

pool on the road side she disappeared, in the form of a ball of fire,

into the water.

All that has reached our days, in corroboration of this tale, is the

small pool.

The next tale was told me by the Rev. R. Jones, Rector of Llanycil. Mr.

Jones gave names and localities, which I have indicated by initials.

_A Man carried away by the Evil One_.

W. E., of Ll--- M---, was a very bad man; he was a brawler, a fighter, a

drunkard. He is said to have spat in the parson's face, and to have

struck him, and beaten the parish clerk who interfered. It was believed

that he had sold himself to work evil, and many foul deeds he committed,

and, what was worse, he gloried in them.

People thought that his end would be a shocking one, and they were not

disappointed. One night this reprobate and stubborn character did not

return home. The next day search was made for him, and his dead body was

found on the brink of the river. Upon inspecting the ground, it became

evident that the deceased had had a desperate struggle with an unknown

antagonist, and the battle commenced some distance above the _ceunant_,

or _dingle_, where the body was discovered. It was there seen that the

man had planted his heels deep into the ground, as if to resist a

superior force, intent upon dragging him down to the river. There were

indications that he had lost his footing; but a few yards lower down it

was observed that his feet had ploughed the ground, and every step taken

from this spot was traceable all down the declivity to the bottom of the

ravine, and every yard gave proof that a desperate and prolonged struggle

had taken place along the whole course. In one place an oak tree

intercepted the way, and it was seen that a bough had its bark peeled

off, and evidently the wretched man had taken hold of this bough and did

not let go until the bark came off in his hands, for in death he still

clutched the bark. The last and most severe struggle took place close to

the river, and here the body was dragged underneath the roots of a tree,

through a hole not big enough for a child to creep through, and this

ended the fight.

Mr. Jones stated that what was most remarkable and ominous in connection

with this foul work was the fact that, although footprints were seen in

the ground, they were all those of the miserable man, for there were no

other marks visible. From this fact and the previous evil life of this

wretched creature, the people in those parts believed that the fearful

struggle had taken place between W. E. and the Evil One, and that he had

not been murdered by any man, but that he was taken away by Satan.

The next tale is a type of many once common in Wales, and as in one

respect it connects these tales, or at least this particular one, with

Fairy stories, I will relate it.

_Satan appearing to a Young Man_.

A young man, who had left Pentrevoelas to live in a farm house called

Hafod Elwy, had to go over the hills to Denbigh on business. He started

very early, before the cock crew, and as it was winter, his journey over

the bleak moorlands was dismal and dreary. When he had proceeded several

miles on his journey an unaccountable dread crept over him. He tried to

dispel his fear by whistling and by knocking the ground with his walking

stick, but all in vain. He stopped, and thought of returning home, but

this he could not do, for he was more afraid of the ridicule of his

friends than of his own fear, and therefore he proceeded on his journey

and reached Pont Brenig, where he stopped awhile, and listened, thinking

he might see or hear someone approaching. To his horror, he observed,

through the glimmering light of the coming day, a tall gentleman

approaching, and by a great exertion he mastered his feelings so far as

to enable him to walk towards the stranger, but when within a few yards

of him he stood still, for from fright he could not move. He noticed

that the gentleman wore grey clothes, and breeches fastened with yellow

buckles, on his coat were two rows of buttons like gold, his shoes were

low, with bright clasps to them. Strange to say, this gentleman did not

pass the terrified man, but stepped into the bog and disappeared from

view.

Ever afterwards, when this man passed the spot where he had met the Evil

One, he found there money or other valuables. This latter incident

connects this tale with Fairy Folk-Lore, as the Fair People were credited

with bestowing gifts on mortals.

_Satan appearing to a Collier_.

John Roberts of Colliers' Row, Cyfartha, Merthyr, was once going to

Aberdare over the mountain. On the top of the hill he was met by a

handsome gentleman, who wore a three-cocked hat, a red waistcoat, and a

blue coat. The appearance of this well dressed man took John Roberts's

fancy; but he could not understand why he should be alone on Aberdare

mountain, and, furthermore, why he did not know the way to Aberdare, for

he had asked Roberts to direct him to the town. John stared at the

gentleman, and saw clearly a cloven foot and a long tail protruding

underneath the blue coat, and there and then the gentleman changed

himself into a _pig_, which stood before John, gave a big grunt, and then

ran away.

I received the story from a lady to whom Roberts related it.

All these tales belong to modern times, and some of them appear to be

objectless as well as ridiculous.

There are a few places in Wales which take their names from Satan. The

_Devil's Bridge_ 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. In his design he was balked, for his intended victim, who was

accompanied by his faithful dog, threw a piece of bread across the bridge

after which the dog ran, and thus became the Devil's property, but this

victim Satan would not take.

_The Devil's Kitchen_ is a chasm in the rock on the west side of Llyn

Idwal, Carnarvonshire. The view through this opening, looking downwards

towards Ogwen Lake, is sublime, and, notwithstanding its uncanny name,

the Kitchen is well worthy of a visit from lovers of nature.

From the following quotation, taken from _Y Gordofigion_, p. 110, it

would appear that there is a rock on the side of Cader Idris called after

the Evil One. The words are:--

"Mae ar dir Rhiwogo, ar ochr Cader Idris, graig a elwir.

'_Careg-gwr-drwg_,' byth ar ol y Sabboth hwnw pan ddaeth yno at drigolion

plwyfydd Llanfihangel Pennant ac Ystradgwyn, pan oeddynt wedi ymgasglu i

chwareu cardiau, a dawnsio; ac y rhoddodd dro o amgylch y graig gan

ddawnsio, ac y mae ol ei draed ar y graig eto."

This in English is as follows:--There is on the land belonging to

Rhiwogo, on the side of Cader Idris, a rock called _The Rock of the Evil

One_, so named ever after that Sabbath, when he came there to join the

parishioners of Llanfihangel Pennant and Ystradgwyn, who had gathered

together to play cards and dance, and there he danced around the rock,

and to this day the marks of his feet are to be seen in the rock.

There were, perhaps are, in Pembrokeshire, two stones, called the Devil's

Nags, which were haunted by Evil Spirits, who troubled the people that

passed that way.

_Ceubren yr Ellyll_, the Hobgoblin's Hollow Tree, a noble oak, once

ornamented Nannau Park, Merionethshire. Tradition says that it was

within the trunk of this tree that Glyndwr buried his cousin, Howel Sele,

who fell a victim to the superior strength and skill of his relative.

Ever after that sad occurrence the place was troubled, sounds proceeded

out of the tree, and fire hovered over it, and, according to a writer in

_The Cambro-Briton_, vol. i., p. 226:--

E'en to this day, the peasant still

With cautious fear treads o'er the ground;

In each wild bush a spectre sees,

And trembles at each rising sound.

One of the caves in Little Orme's Head, Llandudno, is known as _Ogof

Cythreuliaid_, the Cave of Devils.

From the preceding names of places, which do not by any means exhaust the

list, it will be seen that many romantic spots in Wales are associated

with Demons.

There are also sayings in Welsh connected with the Evil One. Thus, in

our days may be heard, when it rains and the sun shines at the same time,

the expression, "_Mae'r Gwr Drwg yn waldio'i wraig_"--the Devil is

beating his wife.

Besides the Biblical names, by which Satan is known, in Wales, there are

several others in use, not to be found in the Bible, but it would seem

that these names are borrowed being either importations or translations;

in fact, it is doubtful, whether we possess any exclusively Welsh terms

applied solely to the Devil. _Andras_ or _Andros_ is common in North

Wales for the Evil One. Canon Silvan Evans in his Welsh Dictionary

derives this word from _an_, without, and _gras_, grace; thus, the word

becomes synonymous with gracelessness, and he remarks that, although the

term is generally rendered devil, it is much softer than that term, or

its Welsh equivalent _diawl_.

_Y Fall_ is another term applied to Satan in Wales. Dr. Owen Pugh

defines the word as what is squabby, bulky. The most common expressions

for the devil, however, are _Cythraul_, and _diawl_, or _diafol_, but

these two last named words are merely forms of Diabolos. Other

expressions, such as Old Nick, Old Harry, have found a home in Wales. _Y

gwr drwg_, the bad man, _Gwas drwg_, the wicked servant, _Yr yspryd

drwg_, the wicked spirit, _Yr hen fachgen_, the old boy, and such like

expressions, are also common. Silly women frighten small children by

telling them that the _Bo_, the _bogey_, the _bogey bo_, or _bolol_,

etc., will take them away if they are not quiet.

_Ghosts_, _or Spirits_.

Ghosts, or Spirits, were supposed to be the shades of departed human

beings who, for certain reasons, were permitted to visit either nightly,

or periodically, this upper world.

The hour that Spirits came to the earth was mid-night, and they remained

until cock-crowing, when they were obliged to depart. So strongly did

the people believe in the hours of these visits, that formerly no one

would stay from home later than twelve o'clock at night, nor would any

one proceed on a journey, until chanticleer had announced that the way

was clear. Christmas Eve, however, was an exception, for during that

night, no evil Spirit could appear.

It was 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; otherwise, he remained

silent.

Ghosts re-visited the world to reveal hidden treasures, and 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.

The presence of Spirits was announced by a clanking of chains, by

shrieks, or other horrible noises, and dogs, and horses, were credited

with the power of seeing Spirits. Horses trembled and perspired at their

presence, and dogs whined and crouched at their approach.

The tales which I shall now relate throw a glimmering light on the

subject now under consideration.

_The Gloddaeth Ghost_.

The following tale was told the Rev. Owen Jones, Pentrevoelas, by Thomas

Davies, Tycoch, Rhyl, the hero in the story.

I may say that Gloddaeth Wood is a remnant of the primaeval forest that

is mentioned by Sir John Wynn, in his _History of the Gwydir Family_, as

extending over a large tract of the country. This wood, being

undisturbed and in its original wild condition, was the home of foxes and

other vermin, for whose destruction the surrounding parishes willingly

paid half-a-crown per head. This reward was an inducement to men who had

leisure, to trap and hunt these obnoxious animals. Thomas Davies was

engaged in this work, and, taking a walk through the wood one day for the

purpose of discovering traces of foxes, he came upon a fox's den, and

from the marks about the burrow he ascertained that there were young

foxes in the hole. This was to him a grand discovery, for, in

anticipation, cubs and vixen were already his. Looking about him, he

noticed that there was opposite the fox's den a large oak tree with

forked branches, and this sight settled his plan of operation. He saw

that he could place himself in this tree in such a position that he could

see the vixen leave, and return to her den, and, from his knowledge of

the habits of the animal, he knew she would commence foraging when

darkness and stillness prevailed. He therefore determined to commence

the campaign forthwith, and so he went home to make his preparations.

I should say that the sea was close to the wood, and that small craft

often came to grief on the coast. I will now proceed with the story.

Davies had taken his seat on a bough opposite the fox's den, when he

heard a horrible scream in the direction of the sea, which apparently was

that of a man in distress, and the sound uttered was "Oh, Oh." Thus

Davies's attention was divided between the dismal, "Oh," and his fox.

But, as the sound was a far way off, he felt disinclined to heed it, for

he did not think it incumbent on him to ascertain the cause of that

distressing utterance, nor did he think it his duty to go to the relief

of a suffering fellow creature. He therefore did not leave his seat on

the tree. But the cry of anguish, every now and again, reached his ears,

and evidently, it was approaching the tree on which Davies sat. He now

listened the more to the awful sounds, which at intervals reverberated

through the wood, and he could no longer be mistaken--they were coming in

his direction. Nearer and nearer came the dismal "Oh! Oh!" and with its

approach, the night became pitch dark, and now the "Oh! Oh! Oh!" was

only a few yards off, but nothing could be seen in consequence of the

deep darkness. The sounds however ceased, but a horrible sight was

presented to the frightened man's view. There, he saw before him, a nude

being with eyes burning like fire, and these glittering balls were

directed towards him. The awful being was only a dozen yards or so off.

And now it crouched, and now it stood erect, but it never for a single

instant withdrew its terrible eyes from the miserable man in the tree,

who would have fallen to the ground were it not for the protecting

boughs. Many times Davies thought that his last moment had come, for it

seemed that the owner of those fiery eyes was about to spring upon him.

As he did not do so, Davies somewhat regained his self possession, and

thought of firing at the horrible being; but his courage failed, and

there he sat motionless, not knowing what the end might be. He closed

his eyes to avoid that gaze, which seemed to burn into him, but this was

a short relief, for he felt constrained to look into those burning orbs,

still it was a relief even to close his eyes: and so again and again he

closed them, only, however, to open them on those balls of fire. About 4

o'clock in the morning, he heard a cock crow at Penbryn farm, and at the

moment his eyes were closed, but at the welcome sound he opened them, and

looked for those balls of fire, but, oh! what pleasure, they were no

longer before him, for, at the crowing of the cock, they, and the being

to whom they belonged, had disappeared.

_Tymawr Ghost_, _Bryneglwys_.

This Ghost plagued the servants, pinched and tormented them, and they

could not get rest day nor night; such was the character of this Ghost as

told me by Mr. Richard Jones, Ty'n-y-wern. But, said I, what was the

cause of his acts, was it the Ghost of anyone who had been murdered? To

this question, Jones gave the following account of the Ghost's arrival at

Tymawr. A man called at this farm, and begged for something to eat, and

as he was shabbily dressed, the girls laughed at him, and would not give

him anything, and when going away, he said, speaking over his shoulder,

"You will repent your conduct to me." In a few nights afterwards the

house was plagued, and the servants were pinched all night. This went on

days and days, until the people were tired of their lives. They,

however, went to Griffiths, Llanarmon, a minister, who was celebrated as

a Layer of Ghosts, and he came, and succeeded in capturing the Ghost in

the form of a spider, and shut him up in his tobacco box and carried him

away, and the servants were never afterwards plagued.

_Ffrith Farm Ghost_.

I am indebted to Mr. Williams, schoolmaster, Bryneglwys, for the history

of this Ghost.

It was not known why Ffrith farm was troubled by a Ghost; but when the

servants were busily engaged in cheese making the Spirit would suddenly

throw mortar, or filthy matter, into the milk, and thus spoil the curds.

The dairy was visited by the Ghost, and there he played havoc with the

milk and dishes. He sent the pans, one after the other, around the room,

and dashed them to pieces. The terrible doings of the Ghost was a topic

of general conversation in those parts. The farmer offered a reward of

five pounds to anyone who would lay the Spirit. One Sunday afternoon,

about 2 o'clock, an aged priest visited the farm yard, and in the

presence of a crowd of spectators exorcised the Ghost, but without

effect. In fact, the Ghost waved a woman's bonnet right in the face of

the priest. The farmer then sent for Griffiths, an Independent minister

at Llanarmon, who enticed the Ghost to the barn. Here the Ghost appeared

in the form of a lion, but he could not touch Griffiths, because he stood

in the centre of a circle, which the lion could not pass over. Griffiths

persuaded the Ghost to appear in a less formidable shape, or otherwise he

would have nothing to do with him. The Ghost next came in the form of a

mastiff, but Griffiths objected even to this appearance; at last, the

Ghost appeared as a fly, which was captured by Griffiths and secured in

his tobacco box, and carried away. Griffiths acknowledged that this

Ghost was the most formidable one that he had ever conquered.

From this tale it would appear that some ghosts were more easily overcome

than others.

_Pont-y-Glyn Ghost_.

There is a picturesque glen between Corwen and Cerrig-y-Drudion, down

which rushes a mountain stream, and over this stream is a bridge, called

Pont-y-Glyn. On the left hand side, a few yards from the bridge, on the

Corwen side, is a yawning chasm, through which the river bounds. Here

people who have travelled by night affirm that they have seen ghosts--the

ghosts of those who have been murdered in this secluded glen.

A man who is now a bailiff near Ruthin, but at the time of the appearance

of the Ghost to him at Pont-y-Glyn was a servant at Garth Meilio--states

that one night, when he was returning home late from Corwen, he saw

before him, seated on a heap of stones, a female dressed in Welsh

costume. He wished her good night, but she returned him no answer. She,

however, got up and proceeded down the road, which she filled, so great

were her increased dimensions.

Other Spirits are said to have made their homes in the hills not far from

Pont-y-Glyn. There was the Spirit of Ystrad Fawr, a strange Ghost that

transformed himself into many things. I will give the description of

this Ghost in the words of the author of _Y Gordofigion_.

_Ysbryd Ystrad Fawr_.

"Yr oedd Ysbryd yn Ystrad Fawr, ger Llangwm, yn arfer ymddangos ar

brydiau ar lun twrci, a'i gynffon o'i amgylch fel olwyn troell. Bryd

arall, byddai yn y coed, nes y byddai y rhai hyny yn ymddangos fel pe

buasent oll ar dan; bryd arall, byddai fel ci du mawr yn cnoi

asgwrn."--_Y Gordofigion_, p. 106.

_Ystrad Fawr Ghost_ in English is as follows:--

There was a Ghost at Ystrad Fawr, near Llangwm, that was in the habit of

appearing like a turkey with his tail spread out like a spinning wheel.

At other times he appeared in the wood, when the trees would seem as if

they were on fire, again he would assume the shape of a large black dog

gnawing a bone.

_Ty Felin Ghost_, _Llanynys_.

An exciseman, overtaken by night, went to a house called Ty Felin, in the

parish of Llanynys, and asked for lodgings. Unfortunately the house was

a very small one, containing only two bedrooms, and one of these was

haunted, consequently no one dared sleep in it. After awhile, however,

the stranger induced the master to allow him to sleep in this haunted

room; he had not been there long before a Ghost entered the room in the

shape of a travelling Jew, and the Spirit walked around the room. The

exciseman tried to catch him, and gave chase, but he lost sight of the

Jew in the yard. He had scarcely entered the room, a second time, when

he again saw the Ghost. He again chased him, and lost sight of him in

the same place. The third time he followed the Ghost, he made a mark on

the yard, where the Ghost vanished and went to rest, and was not again

troubled. He got up early and went his way, but, before long, he

returned to Ty Felin accompanied by a policeman, whom he requested to dig

in the place where his mark was. This was done, and, underneath a

superficial covering, a deep well was discovered, and in it a corpse. On

examining the tenant of the house, he confessed that a travelling Jew,

selling jewelry, etc., once lodged with him, and that he had murdered

him, and cast his body in the well.

_Llandegla Spirit_.

The tale of this Spirit was given me by Mr. Roberts, late Schoolmaster of

Llandegla. A small river runs close to the secluded village of

Llandegla, and in this mountain stream under a huge stone lies a wicked

Ghost. The tale is as follows:--

The old Rectory at Llandegla was haunted; the Spirit was very

troublesome; no peace was to be got because of it; every night it was at

its work. A person of the name of Griffiths, who lived at Graianrhyd,

was sent for to lay the Ghost. He came to the Rectory, but the Spirit

could not be overcome. It is true Griffiths saw it, but in such a form

that he could not approach it; night after night, the Spirit appeared in

various forms, but still the conjurer was unable to master it. At last

it came to the wise man in the form of a fly, which Griffiths immediately

captured, and placed in a small box. This box he buried under a large

stone in the river, just below the bridge, near the Llandegla Mills, and

there the Spirit is to remain until a certain tree, which grows by the

bridge, reaches the height of the parapet, and then, when this takes

place, the Spirit shall have power to regain his liberty. To prevent

this tree from growing, the school children, even to this day, nip the

upper branches, and thus retard its upward growth. Mr. Roberts received

the story I have given, from the old Parish Clerk, John Jones the weaver,

who died a few years ago.

_Lady Jeffrey's Spirit_.

This lady could not rest in her grave because of her misdeeds, and she

troubled people dreadfully; at last she was persuaded or enticed to

contract her dimensions, and enter into a bottle. She did so, after

appearing in a good many hideous forms; but when she got into the bottle,

it was corked down securely, and the bottle was cast into the pool

underneath the Short bridge, Llanidloes, and there the lady was to remain

until the ivy that grew up the buttresses should overgrow the sides of

the bridge, and reach the parapet. The ivy was dangerously near the top

of the bridge when the writer was a schoolboy, and often did he and his

companions crop off its tendrils as they neared the prescribed limits for

we were all terribly afraid to release the dreaded lady out of the

bottle. In the year 1848, the old bridge was blown up, and a new one

built instead of it. A schoolfellow, whom we called Ben, was playing by

the aforesaid pool when the bridge was undergoing reconstruction, and he

found by the river's side a small bottle, and in the bottle was a little

black thing, that was never quiet, but it kept bobbing up and down

continually, just as if it wanted to get out. Ben kept the bottle safely

for a while, but ere long he was obliged to throw it into the river, for

his relations and neighbours came to the conclusion that that was the

very bottle that contained Lady Jeffrey's Spirit, and they also surmised

that the little black restless thing was nothing less than the lady

herself. Ben consequently resigned the bottle and its contents to the

pool again, there to undergo a prolonged, but unjust, term of

imprisonment.

_Pentrevoelas_.--_Squire Griffith's Ghost_.

A couple of workmen engaged at Foelas, the seat of the late Squire

Griffiths, thought they would steal a few apples from the orchard for

their children, and for this purpose one evening, just before leaving off

work, they climbed up a tree, but happening to look down, whom should

they see but the Squire, wearing his three-cornered hat, and dressed in

the clothes he used to wear when alive, and he was leaning against the

trunk of the tree on which they were perched. In great fright they

dropped to the ground and took to their heels. They ran without stopping

to Bryn Coch, but there, to their horror, stood the Squire in the middle

of the road quietly leaning on his staff. They again avoided him and ran

home every step, without looking behind them. The orchard robbers never

again saw their late master, nor did they ever again attempt to rob the

orchard.

_David Salisbury's Ghost_.

I will quote from _Bye-Gones_, vol. iii., p. 211, an account of this

Spirit.

"There was an old Welsh tradition in vogue some fifty years ago, that

one David Salisbury, son of _Harri Goch_ of Llanrhaiadr, near

Denbigh, and grandson to Thomas Salisbury hen of Lleweni, had given

considerable trouble to the living, long after his remains had been

laid in the grave. A good old soul, Mr. Griffiths of Llandegla,

averred that he had seen his ghost, mounted upon a white horse,

galloping over hedges and ditches in the dead of night, and had heard

his 'terrible groans,' which, he concluded, proceeded from the weight

of sin troubling the unhappy soul, which had to undergo these

untimely and unpleasant antics. An old Welsh ballad entitled 'Ysbryd

Dafydd Salbri,' professed to give the true account of the individual

in question, but the careful search of many years has failed me in

securing a copy of that horrible song.

GORONWY IFAN."

This Spirit fared better than most of his compeers, for they, poor

things, were, according to the popular voice, often doomed to ride

headless horses, which madly galloped, the livelong night, hither and

thither, where they would, to the great terror of the midnight traveller

who might meet this mad unmanageable creature, and also, as it would

seem, to the additional discomfort of the unfortunate rider.

It is, or was believed in Gyffylliog parish, which is in the recesses of

the Denbighshire mountains, four or five miles to the west of Ruthin,

that the horses ridden by Spirits and goblins were real horses, and it

was there said when horses were found in their stables at dawn in a state

of perspiration that they had been taken out in the night and ridden by

Spirits about the country, and hence their jaded condition in the

morning.

It was also thought that the horses found in the morning in their pasture

ground with tangled manes and tails, and bodies covered with mud, had

been during the night used by Spirits, who rushed them through mire and

brier, and that consequently they presented the appearance of animals who

had followed the hounds in a long chase through a stiff country.

There is a strong family likeness between all Ghost stories, and a lack

of originality in their construction, but this suggests a common source

from which the majority of these fictions are derived.

I now come to another phase of Spirit Folk-Lore, which has already been

alluded to, viz., the visits of Ghosts for the purpose of revealing

hidden treasures. The following tale, which I took down from the mouth

of John Rowland, at one time the tenant of Plas-yn-llan, Efenechtyd, is

an instance of this kind of story.

_A Ghost Appearing to point out Hidden Treasures_.

There is a farm house called Clwchdyrnog in the parish of Llanddeusant,

Anglesey, which was said to have been haunted by a Spirit. It seems that

no one would summon courage to speak to the Ghost, though it was seen by

several parties; but one night, John Hughes, Bodedern, a widower, who

visited the house for the purpose of obtaining a second Mrs. Hughes from

among the servant girls there, spoke to the Ghost. The presence of the

Spirit was indicated by a great noise in the room where Hughes and the

girl were. In great fright Hughes invoked the Spirit, and asked why he

troubled the house. "Have I done any wrong to you," said he, addressing

the Spirit. "No," was the answer. Then he asked if the girl to whom he

was paying his attentions was the cause of the Spirit's visit, and again

he received the answer, "No." Then Hughes named individually all the

inmates of the house in succession, and inquired if they were the cause

of the Spirit's visits, and again he was answered in the negative. Then

he asked why, since no one in the house had disturbed the Spirit, he came

there to disturb the inmates. To this pertinent question the Spirit

answered as follows:--"There are treasures hidden on the south side of

Ffynnon Wen, which belong to, and are to be given to, the nine months old

child in this house: when this is done, I will never disturb this house

any more."

The spot occupied by the treasure was minutely described by the Spirit,

and Hughes promised to go to the place indicated. The next day, he went

to the spot, and digging into the ground, he came upon an iron chest

filled with gold, silver, and other valuables, and all these things he

faithfully delivered up to the parents of the child to be kept by them

for him until he should come of age to take possession of them himself.

This they faithfully did, and the Spirit never again came to the house.

John Rowland, my informant, was a native of Anglesey, and he stated that

all the people of Llanddeusant knew of the story which he related to me.

He was eighty-three years old at the time he told me the tale, and that

was in October, 1882.

But one of the most singular tales of the appearance of a Ghost is

recorded in the autobiography of the grandfather of the late Mr. Thomas

Wright, the well-known Shropshire antiquary. Mr. Wright's grandfather

was a Methodist, and in the early days of that body the belief in

apparitions was not uncommon amongst them. The story was told Mr.

Wright, sen., in 1780, at the house, in Yorkshire, of Miss Bosanquet

(afterwards the wife of Fletcher of Madeley), by Mr. John Hampson, sen.,

a well-known preacher among the Methodists, who had just arrived from

Wales.

As the scene of the tale is laid in Powis Castle, I will call this

visitation

_The Powis Castle Ghost revealing a Hidden Box to a Woman_.

The following is the narrative:--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, 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 and 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 home 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 of the 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 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-sneck 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 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 room 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 his 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 kneeled 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 was able to 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, if possible.

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 had all

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 she 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.

Such is the tale. I will make no comments on it. Many similar stories

are extant. After one more tale, I will leave these Spirit stories, and

I will then relate how troublesome Ghosts were laid.

The Spirits of the preceding tales were sent from the unseen world to do

good, but the Spirit of the maiden who gives a name to a Welsh lake,

cried out for vengeance; but history does not inform us that she obtained

satisfaction. There is a lake in Carnarvonshire called

_Llyn-Nad-y-Forwyn_, or the Lake of the Maiden's Cry, to which is

attached the following tale. I will call the tale

_The Spirit of Llyn-Nad-y-Forwyn_.

It is said that a young man was about to marry a young girl, and on the

evening before the wedding they were rambling along the water's side

together, but the man was false, and loved another better than the woman

whom he was about to wed. They were alone in an unfrequented country,

and the deceiver pushed the girl into the lake to get rid of her to marry

his sweetheart. She lost her life. But ever afterwards her Spirit

troubled the neighbourhood, but chiefly the scene of her murder.

Sometimes she appeared as a ball of fire, rolling along the river Colwyn,

at other times she appeared as a lady dressed in silk, taking a solitary

walk along the banks of the river. At other times, groans and shrieks

were heard coming out of the river--just such screams as would be uttered

by a person who was being murdered. Sometimes a young maiden was seen

emerging out of the waters, half naked, with dishevelled hair, that

covered her shoulders, and the country resounded with her heart-rending

crying as she appeared in the lake. The frequent crying of the Spirit

gave to the lake its name, Llyn-Nad-y-Forwyn.

_Spirit Laying_.

It must have been a consolation to those who believed in the power of

wicked Spirits to trouble people, that it was possible to lay these evil

visitors in a pool of water, or to drive them away to the Red Sea, or to

some other distant part of the world. It was generally thought that

Spirits could be laid by a priest; and there were particular forms of

exorcising these troublesome beings. A conjuror, or _Dyn Hysbys_, was

also credited with this power, and it was thought that the prayer of a

righteous man could overcome these emissaries of evil.

But there was a place for hope in the case of these transported or laid

Spirits. It was granted to some to return from the Red Sea to the place

whence they departed by the length of a grain of wheat or barley corn

yearly. The untold ages that it would take to accomplish a journey of

four thousand miles thus slowly was but a very secondary consideration to

the annihilation of hope. Many were the conditions imposed upon the

vanquished Spirits by their conquerors before they could be permitted to

return to their old haunts, and well might it be said that the conditions

could not possibly be carried out; but still there was a place for hope

in the breast of the doomed by the imposition of any terminable

punishment.

The most ancient instance of driving out a Spirit that I am acquainted

with is to be found in the Book of Tobit. It seems to be the prototype

of many like tales. The angel Raphael and Tobias were by the river

Tigris, when a fish jumped out of the river, which by the direction of

the angel was seized by the young man, and its heart, and liver, and gall

extracted, and, at the angel's command carefully preserved by Tobias.

When asked what their use might be, the angel informed him that the smoke

of the heart and liver would drive away a devil or Evil Spirit that

troubled anyone. In the 14th verse of the sixth chapter of Tobit we are

told that a devil loved Sara, but that he did no harm to anyone,

excepting to those who came near her. Knowing this, the young man was

afraid to marry the woman; but remembering the words of Raphael, he went

in unto his wife, and took the ashes of the perfumes as ordered, and put

the heart and liver of the fish thereupon, and made a smoke therewith,

the which smell, when the Evil Spirit had smelled, he fled into the

utmost parts of Egypt, and the angel bound him. Such is the story, many

variants of which are found in many countries.

I am grieved to find that Sir John Wynne, who wrote the interesting and

valuable _History of the Gwydir Family_, which ought to have secured for

him kindly recognition from his countrymen, was by them deposited after

death, for troubling good people, in Rhaiadr y Wenol. The superstition

has found a place in Yorke's _Royal Tribes of Wales_.

The following quotation is from the _History of the Gwydir Family_,

Oswestry Edition, p. 7:--

"Being shrewd and successful in his dealings, people were led to believe

he oppressed them," and says Yorke in his _Royal Tribes of Wales_, "It is

the superstition of Llanrwst to this day that the Spirit of the old

gentleman lies under the great waterfall, Rhaiadr y Wennol, there to be

punished, purged, spouted upon and purified from the foul deeds done in

his days of nature."

This gentleman, though, is not alone in occupying, until his misdeeds are

expiated, a watery grave. There is hardly a pool in a river, or lake in

which Spirits have not, according to popular opinion, been laid. In our

days though, it is only the aged that speak of such matters.

A Spirit could in part be laid. It is said that Abel Owen's Spirit, of

Henblas, was laid by Gruffydd Jones, Cilhaul, in a bottle, and buried in

a _gors_ near Llanrwst.

This Gruffydd Jones had great trouble at Hafod Ucha between Llanrwst and

Conway, to lay a Spirit. He began in the afternoon, and worked hard the

whole night and the next day to lay the Spirit, but he succeeded in

overcoming a part only of the Spirit. He was nearly dead from exhaustion

and want of food before he could even master a portion of the Spirit.

The preceding is a singular tale, for it teaches that Spirits are

divisible. A portion of this Spirit, repute says, is still at large,

whilst a part is undergoing purification.

The following tale was told me by my friend, the Rev. T. H. Evans, Vicar

of Llanwddyn.

_Cynon's Ghost_.

One of the wicked Spirits which plagued the secluded Valley of Llanwddyn

long before it was converted into a vast reservoir to supply Liverpool

with water was that of _Cynon_. Of this Spirit Mr. Evans writes

thus:--"_Yspryd Cynon_ was a mischievous goblin, which was put down by

_Dic Spot_ and put in a quill, and placed under a large stone in the

river below Cynon Isaf. The stone is called '_Careg yr Yspryd_,' the

Ghost Stone. This one received the following instructions, that he was

to remain under the stone until the water should work its way between the

stone and the dry land."

The poor Spirit, to all appearance, was doomed to a very long

imprisonment, but _Dic Spot_ did not foresee the wants and enterprise of

the people of Liverpool, who would one day convert the Llanwddyn Valley

into a lake fifteen miles in circumference, and release the Spirit from

prison by the process of making their Waterworks.

I might here say that there is another version current in the parish

besides that given me by Mr. Evans, which is that the Spirit was to

remain under the stone until the river was dried up. Perhaps both

conditions were, to make things safe, imposed upon the Spirit.

_Careg yr Yspryd_ and Cynon Isaf were at the entrance to the Valley of

Llanwddyn, and down this opening, or mouth of the valley, rushed the

river--the river that was to be dammed up for the use of Liverpool. The

inhabitants of the valley knew the tradition respecting the Spirit, and

they much feared its being disturbed. The stone was a large boulder,

from fifteen to twenty tons in weight, and it was evident that it was

doomed to destruction, for it stood in the river Vyrnwy just where

operations were to commence. There was no small stir among the Welsh

inhabitants when preparations were made to blast the huge Spirit-stone.

English and Irish workmen could not enter into the feeling of the Welsh

towards this stone, but they had heard what was said about it. They,

however, had no dread of the imprisoned Spirit. In course of time the

stone was bored and a load of dynamite inserted, but it was not shattered

at the first blast. About four feet square remained intact, and

underneath this the Spirit was, if it was anywhere. The men were soon

set to work to demolish the stone. The Welshmen expected some

catastrophe to follow its destruction, and they were even prepared to see

the Spirit bodily emerge from its prison, for, said they, the conditions

of its release have been fulfilled--the river had been diverted from its

old bed into an artificial channel, to facilitate the removal of this and

other stones--and there was no doubt that both conditions had been

literally carried out, and consequently the Spirit, if justice ruled,

could claim its release. The stone was blasted, and strange to relate,

when the smoke had cleared away, the water in a cavity where the stone

had been was seen to move; there was no apparent reason why the water

should thus be disturbed, unless, indeed, the Spirit was about to appear.

The Welsh workmen became alarmed, and moved away from the place, keeping,

however, their eyes fixed on the pool. The mystery was soon solved, for

a large frog made its appearance, and, sedately sitting on a fragment of

the shattered stone, rubbed its eyes with its feet, as if awaking from a

long sleep. The question was discussed, "Is it a frog, or the Spirit in

the form of a frog; if it is a frog, why was it not killed when the stone

was blasted?" And again, "Who ever saw a frog sit up in that fashion and

rub the dust out of its eyes? It must be the Spirit." There the workmen

stood, at a respectful distance from the frog, who, heedless of the

marked attention paid to it, continued sitting up and rubbing its eyes.

They would not approach it, for it must be the Spirit, and no one knew

what its next movement or form might be. At last, however, the frog was

driven away, and the men re-commenced their labours. But for nights

afterwards people passing the spot heard a noise as of heavy chains being

dragged along the ground where the stone once stood.

_Caellwyngrydd Spirit_.

This was a dangerous Spirit. People passing along the road were stoned

by it; its work was always mischievous and hurtful. At last it was

exorcised and sent far away to the Red Sea, but it was permitted to

return the length of a barley corn every year towards its lost home.

From the tales already given, it is seen that the people believed in the

possibility of getting rid of troublesome Spirits, and the person whose

aid was sought on these occasions was often a minister of religion. We

have seen how Griffiths of Llanarmon had reached notoriety in this

direction, and he lived in quite modern times. The clergy were often

consulted in matters of this kind, and they were commonly believed to

have power over Spirits. The Rev. Walter Davies had great credit as a

Spirit layer, and he lived far into the present century. Going further

back, I find that Archdeacon Edmund Prys, and his contemporary and

friend, Huw Llwyd, were famous opponents of Evil Spirits, and their

services are said to have been highly appreciated, because always

successful. The manner of laying Spirits differed. In this century,

prayer and Bible reading were usually resorted to, but in other days,

incantation was employed. We have seen how Griffiths surrounded himself

with an enchanted circle, which the Spirit could not break through. This

ring was thought to be impervious to the Ghost tribe, and therefore it

was the protection of the person whom it surrounded. The Spirit was

invoked and commanded to depart by the person within the magic ring and

it obeyed the mandate. Sometimes it was found necessary to conduct a

service in Church, in Latin by night, the Church being lit up with

consecrated candles, ere the Ghost could be overcome.

When Spirits were being laid, we are told that they presented themselves

in various forms to the person engaged in laying them, and that

ultimately they foolishly came transformed into some innocuous insect or

animal, which he was able to overcome. The simplicity of the Ghosts is

ridiculous, and can only be understood by supposing that the various

steps in the contest for the mastery are not forthcoming, that they have

been lost.

These various metamorphoses would imply that transmigration was believed

in by our forefathers.

_Ghost Raising_.

If the possibility of Ghost Laying was believed in, so also was the

possibility of raising Evil Spirits. This faith dates from olden times.

Shakespeare, to this, as to most other popular notions, has given a place

in his immortal plays. Speaking rightly in the name of "Glendower," a

Welshman, conversant with Ghosts and Goblins, the poet makes him say:--

"I can call Spirits from the vasty deep."

_Henry the Fourth_, Act III., S. 1.

And again in the same person's mouth are placed these words:--

"Why, I can teach you, cousin, _to command the devil_."

The witches in Macbeth have this power ascribed to them:

I'll catch it ere it come to ground:

And that, distilled by magic sleights,

_Shall raise such artificial Sprites_,

_As by the strength of their illusion_

Shall draw him on to his confusion.

_Macbeth_, Act III., S. 5.

This idea has continued right to our own days, and adepts in the black

art have affirmed that they possess this power.

Doctor Bennion, a gentleman well known in his lifetime in and about

Oswestry, was thought to be able to raise Devils. I find in the history

of _Ffynnon Elian_, p. 12, that the doctor visited John Evans, the last

custodian of the well, and taught him how to accomplish this feat. For

the benefit of those anxious to obtain this power, I will give the

doctor's recipe:--"Publish it abroad that you can raise the Devil, and

the country will believe you, and will credit you with many miracles.

All that you have to do afterwards is to be silent, and you will then be

as good a raiser of Devils as I am, and I as good as you."

Evans confesses that he acted according to the astute doctor's advice,

and he adds--"The people in a very short time spoke much about me, and

they soon came to intrust everything to me, their conduct frightened me,

for they looked upon me as if I were a god." This man died August 14th,

1858.

_Witches and Conjurors_.

From and before the days of King Saul, to the present moment, witches

have held dreaded sway over the affairs of man. Cruel laws have been

promulgated against them, they have been murdered by credulous and

infuriated mobs, they have lost their lives after legal trial, but still,

witches have lived on through the dark days of ignorance, and even in

these days of light and learning they have their votaries. There must be

something in the human constitution peculiarly adapted to the exercise of

witchcraft, or it could not have lived so long, nor could it have been so

universal, as it undoubtedly is, unless men lent themselves willingly to

its impositions.

It is curious to notice how good and enlightened men have clung to a

belief in witchcraft. It is, consequently, not to be wondered at that

the common people placed faith in witches and conjurors when their

superiors in learning professed a like faith.

I have often spoken to intelligent men, who did not scruple to confess

that they believed in witches and conjurors, and they adduced instances

to prove that their faith had a foundation in fact.

Almost up to our days, the farmer who lost anything valuable consulted a

conjuror, and vowed vengeance on the culprit if it were not restored by

such and such a time, and invariably the stolen property was returned to

its owner before the specified period had expired. As detectives, the

conjurors, therefore, occupied a well-defined and useful place in rural

morality, and witches, too, were indirectly teachers of charity, for no

farm wife would refuse refreshments to the destitute lest vengeance

should overtake her. In this way the deserving beggar obtained needed

assistance from motives of self-preservation from benefactors whose fears

made them charitable.

But, if these benefits were derived from a false faith, the evils

attending that faith were nevertheless most disastrous to the community

at large, and many inhuman Acts were passed in various reigns to

eradicate witchcraft. From the wording of these Acts it will be seen

what witches were credited with doing.

An Act passed 33 Henry VIII. adjudged all witchcraft and sorcery to be

felony. A like Act was passed 1 James, c.12, and also in the reign of

Philip and Mary. The following is an extract:--

"All persons who shall practise invocation, or conjuration, of wicked

spirits, any witchcraft, enchantment, charm, or sorcery, whereby any

person shall happen to be killed, or destroyed, shall, with their aiders,

and abettors, be accounted felons, without benefit of clergy; and all

persons practising any witchcraft, etc., whereby any person shall happen

to be wasted, consumed, or lamed in his or her body, or members, or

whereby any goods, or chattels, shall be destroyed, wasted, or impaired,

shall, with their counsellors, and aiders, suffer for the first offence

one year's imprisonment and the pillory, and for the second the

punishment of felony without the clergy." . . . "If any person shall

consult, covenant with, entertain, employ, feed, or reward any evil or

wicked spirit, or _take up any dead man_, _woman_, _or child out of his_,

_her_, _or their grave_; or, the skin, bone, or any other part of any

dead person to be employed in any manner of witchcraft, sorcery, charm,

or enchantment, etc., _he shall suffer death as a felon_, without benefit

of clergy."

The law of James I. was repealed in George II.'s. reign, but even then

persons pretending to use witchcraft, tell fortunes, or discover stolen

goods, by skill in the occult sciences, were to be punished by a year's

imprisonment; and by an Act, 5 George IV., c.83, any person or persons

using any subtle art, means, or device, by palmistry, or otherwise, to

deceive his Majesty's subjects, were to be deemed rogues and vagabonds,

and to be punished with imprisonment and hard labour.

Acts of Parliament did not succeed in eradicating witchcraft. Its power

has waned, but it still exercises an influence, shadowy though it be, on

certain minds, though in its grosser forms it has disappeared.

Formerly, ailments of all kinds, and misfortunes of every description,

were ascribed to the malignant influence of some old decrepit female, and

it was believed that nature's laws could be changed by these witches,

that they could at will produce tempests to destroy the produce of the

earth, and strike with sickness those who had incurred their displeasure.

Thus Lady Macbeth, speaking of these hags, says:--

"I have learned by the perfectest report, they have more in them than

mortal knowledge. When I burned in desire to question them further

they made themselves air, into which they vanished."

_Macbeth_, Act. i, S. 5.

The uncanny knowledge possessed by witches was used, it was thought, to

injure people, and their malice towards good, hard-working, honest folk

was unmistakable. They afflicted children from sheer love of cruelty,

and bewitched animals gratuitously, or for slights which they supposed

their owners had shown towards them; consequently their knowledge was

considered to be greatly inimical to others, and particularly baneful to

the industrious, whom witches hated.

There was hardly a district that had not its witches. Children ran away

when they saw approaching them an aged woman, with a red shawl on, for

they believed she was a witch, who could, with her evil eye, injure them.

It was, however, believed that the machinations of witches could be

counteracted in various ways, and by and by some of these charms shall be

given. Life would have been intolerable but for these antidotes to

witchcraft.

Shakespeare's knowledge of Welsh Folk-lore was extensive and peculiarly

faithful, and what he says of witches in general agrees with the popular

opinion respecting them in Wales. I cannot do better than quote from

this great Folk-lorist a few things that he tells us about witches.

Mention has been made of witches taking dead bodies out of their graves

to make use of them in their enchantments, and Shakespeare, in his

description of the witches' cauldron, shows that they threw into the

seething pot many portions of human beings. The first witch in _Macbeth_

says:--

Round about the cauldron go,

In the poisoned _entrails_ throw.

The third witch mentions other things that are thrown into the pot, as:--

Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf,

Witches' mummy, maw and gulf

Of the ravin'd salt-sea shark,

Root of hemlock digged i' the dark,

_Liver of blaspheming Jew_,

Gall of goat, and slips of yew

Sliver'd in the moon's eclipse,

_Nose of Turk_, _and Tartar's lips_,

Finger of birth-strangled babe

Ditch-delivered by a drab.

_Macbeth_, A. IV., S. 1.

It was thought that witches could change themselves, and other people,

into the form of animals. In Wales, the cat and the hare were the

favourite animals into which witches transformed themselves, but they did

not necessarily confine themselves to these animals. They were able to

travel in the air on a broom-stick; make children ill; give maids the

nightmare; curse with madness, animals; bring misfortune on families;

hinder the dairy maid from making butter; and many more imaginary things

were placed to their credit.

The personal appearance of witches, as given by Shakespeare, corresponds

exactly with the Welsh idea of these hags. On this subject the poet

writes:--

What are these

_So wither'd and so wild in their attire_

That look not like the inhabitants o' the earth,

And yet are on't?--Live you? Or are you aught

That man may question? You seem to understand me,

By each at once her chappy fingers laying

Upon her skinny lips:--you should be women,

And yet your beards forbid me to interpret

That you are so.

_Macbeth_, Act I., S. 3.

A striking and pathetic portrait of a witch, taken from _Otway's Orphan_,

Act. II., is given in No. 117 of the _Spectator_. It is so true to life

and apposite to our subject that I will quote it:--

In a close lane, as I pursu'd my journey,

I spy'd a wrinkled hag, with age grown double,

Picking dry sticks, and mumbling to herself.

Her eyes with scalding-rheum were gall'd, and red,

Cold palsy shook her head, her hands seemed wither'd,

And on her crooked shoulders had she wrapt

The tatter'd remnant of an old striped hanging,

Which served to keep her carcass from the cold;

So there was nothing of a piece about her.

Her lower weeds were all o'er coarsely patched,

With different colour'd rags, black, red, white, yellow.

And seem'd to speak variety of wretchedness.

A picture such as this is enough to create sympathy and charity in a

selfish heart, but in those dark days, when faith in witchcraft

prevailed, such a poor old decrepit woman inspired awe, and was shunned

as a malicious evil-doer by all her neighbours.

_Llanddona Witches_.

There is a tradition in the parish of Llanddona, Anglesey, that these

witches, with their husbands, had been expelled from their native

country, wherever that was, for practising witchcraft. They were sent

adrift, it is said, in a boat, without rudder or oars, and left in this

state to the mercy of the wind and the wave. When they were first

discovered approaching the Anglesey shore, the Welsh tried to drive them

back into the sea, and even after they had landed they were confined to

the beach. The strangers, dead almost from thirst and hunger, commanded

a spring of pure water to burst forth on the sands. This well remains to

our days. This miracle decided their fate. The strangers were allowed,

consequently, to land, but as they still practised their evil arts the

parish became associated with their name, and hence the _Witches of

Llanddona_ was a term generally applied to the female portion of that

parish, though in reality it belonged to one family only within its

boundaries.

The men lived by smuggling and the women by begging and cursing. It was

impossible to overcome these daring smugglers, for in their neckerchief

was a fly, which, the moment the knot of their cravats was undone, flew

right at the eye of their opponents and blinded them, but before this

last remedy was resorted to the men fought like lions, and only when

their strength failed them did they release their familiar spirit, the

fly, to strike with blindness the defenders of the law.

The above-mentioned tradition of the coming of these witches to Anglesey

is still current in the parish of Llanddona, which is situated on the

north coast of Anglesey.

It was thought that the witching power belonged to families, and

descended from mothers to daughters. This was supposed to be the case

with the witches of Llanddona. This family obtained a bad report

throughout the island. The women, with dishevelled hair and bared

breasts, visited farm houses and requested charity, more as a right than

a favour, and no one dared refuse them. _Llanddona Witches_ is a name

that is not likely soon to die. Taking advantage of the credulity of the

people, they cursed those whom they disliked, and many were the

endeavours to counteract their maledictions. The following is one of

their curses, uttered at _Y Ffynon Ocr_, a well in the parish of

Llanddona, upon a man who had offended one of these witches:--

Crwydro y byddo am oesoedd lawer;

Ac yn mhob cam, camfa;

Yn mhob camfa, codwm;

Yn mhob codwm, tori asgwrn;

Nid yr asgwrn mwyaf na'r lleiaf,

Ond asgwrn chwil corn ei wddw bob tro.

The English is as follows, but the alliteration and rhythm of the Welsh

do not appear in the translation:--

May he wander for ages many;

And at every step, a stile;

At every stile, a fall;

At every fall, a broken bone;

Not the largest, nor the least bone,

But the chief neck bone, every time.

This curse seemed to be a common imprecation, possibly belonging to that

family. Such was the terror of the _Llanddona Witches_ that if any of

them made a bid for a pig or anything else, in fair or market, no one

else dared bid against them, for it was believed they would witch the

animal thus bought. There were also celebrated witches at Denbigh.

_Bella Fawr_ (Big Bella) was one of the last and most famous of her tribe

in that town, and many other places were credited with possessing persons

endowed with witching powers, as well as those who could break spells.

The following tales of the doings of witches will throw light upon the

matter under consideration.

_Witches transforming themselves into Cats_.

One of the forms that witches were supposed to change themselves into was

that of a cat. In this metamorphosed state they were the more able to

accomplish their designs. The following tale, illustrative of this

belief, was told me by the Rev. R. Jones, Rector of Llanycil, Bala.

On the side of the old road, between Cerrig-y-drudion and

Bettws-y-Coed--long before this latter place had become the resort of

artists--stood an inn, which was much resorted to, as it was a convenient

lodging house for travellers on their way to Ireland. This inn stood

near the present village of Bettws-y-Coed. Many robberies occurred here.

Travellers who put up there for the night were continually deprived of

their money, and no one could tell how this occurred, for the lodgers

were certain that no one had entered their rooms, as they were found

locked in the morning just as they were the night before. The mystery

was, therefore, great. By and by, one of those who had lost his money

consulted _Huw Llwyd_, who lived at Cynvael, in the parish of Festiniog,

and he promised to unravel the mystery. Now, Huw Llwyd had been an

officer in the army, and, equipped in his regimentals, with sword

dangling by his side, he presented himself one evening at the suspected

inn, and asked whether he could obtain a room and bed for the night; he

represented himself as on his way to Ireland, and he found no difficulty

in obtaining a night's lodging. The inn was kept by two sisters of

prepossessing appearance, and the traveller made himself most agreeable

to these ladies, and entertained them with tales of his travels in

foreign parts. On retiring for the night he stated that it was a habit

with him to burn lights in his room all night, and he was supplied with a

sufficient quantity of candles to last through the night. The request,

as Hugh Llwyd was a military man, did not arouse suspicion. Huw retired,

and made his arrangements for a night of watching. He placed his clothes

on the floor within easy reach of his bed, and his sword unsheathed lay

on the bed close to his right hand. He had secured the door, and now as

the night drew on he was all attention; ere long two cats stealthily came

down the partition between his room and the next to it. Huw feigned

sleep, the cats frisked here and there in the room, but the sleeper awoke

not; they chased each other about the room, and played and romped, and at

last they approached Huw's clothes and played with them, and here they

seemed to get the greatest amusement; they turned the clothes about and

over, placing their paws now on that string, and now on that button, and

ere long their paws were inserted into the pockets of his clothes, and,

just as one of the cats had her paw in the pocket that contained Huw

Llwyd's purse, he like lightning struck the cat's paw with his sword.

With terrible screams they both disappeared, and nothing further was seen

of them during the night.

Next morning, only one of the sisters appeared at the breakfast table.

To the traveller's enquiry after the absent lady of the house, her sister

said that she was slightly indisposed, and could not appear.

Huw Llwyd expressed regret at this, but, said he--"I must say good-bye to

her, for I greatly enjoyed her company last night." He would not be

refused, so ultimately he was admitted to her presence. After expressing

his sympathy and regret at her illness, the soldier held out his hand to

bid good-bye to the lady. She put out her left hand; this Huw refused to

take, averring that he had never taken a left hand in his life, and that

he would not do so now. Very reluctantly, and with evident pain, she put

out her right hand, which was bandaged, and this fact cleared up the

mystery connected with the robberies. These two ladies were two witches,

who in the form of cats had robbed travellers who lodged under their

roof. Huw, when he made this discovery said--"I am Huw Llwyd of Cynvael,

and I warn you of the risk you have incurred by your thefts, and I

promise you I will not let you off so easily the next time I have need to

visit you."

The preceding tale is circumstantial, but unfortunately similar tales are

current in other places, as shown by the following quotation:--

"The last instance of national credulity on this head was the story

of the witches of Thurso, who, tormenting for a long time an honest

fellow under the usual form of a cat, at last provoked him so that

one night he put them to flight with his broad sword and _cut off the

leg_ of one less nimble than the rest. On his taking it up, to his

amazement _he found it belonged to a female of his own species_, and

next morning discovered the owner, an old hag, with only the

companion leg to this."

_Brand's Popular Antiquities_, pp. 318-319.

_The Witches' Revenge on Huw Llwyd_.

Several months after the occurrence recorded above of Huw Llwyd, when he

had just started from his home one Sunday morning to go to his Church to

officiate there, for he was the parson of Llan Festiniog, he observed

that the Bettws-y-Coed ladies were approaching his house, and he

perceived that their object was to witch him. He knew full well that as

long as his back was turned towards them he was in their power, but that

when he faced them they could do him no harm; so; to avoid their evil

influence, and to frustrate their designs, he faced them, and walked

backwards every step from Cynvael to the Llan, and in this way he escaped

being injured by his female enemies. But this was not all. Huw Llwyd

knew that when he reached the Church porch he was beyond witchcraft's

reach. Having arrived there he shouted out--"I defy you now, and before

I leave the Church I will make you that you can never again witch

anyone." He was as good as his word, for by his skill in the black art,

he deprived those two ladies, ere he left the Church, of their power to

witch people, and during the rest of their lives they were like other

women.

Huw Llwyd, who was born 1533, and died 1620, was a clergyman, and it was

generally believed that priests could counteract the evils of the enemy

of mankind.

The wide-spread belief of witches being able to transform themselves into

animals is shown in the legends of many countries, and, as in the case of

fairy stories, the same tale, slightly changed, may be heard in various

places. The possibility of injuring or _marking_ the witch in her

assumed form so deeply that the bruise remained a mark on her in her

natural form was a common belief. A tale in certain points like the one

recorded of Huw Llwyd and the witches who turned themselves into cats is

to be heard in many parts of Wales. It is as follows. I quote the main

facts from my friend Mr. Hamer's account of Llanidloes, published in the

_Montgomeryshire Collections_, vol. x., p. 243:--

_A Witch transformed into a Hare injured by one whom she tormented_.

"An old woman, thought to be a witch, was said by a neighbour to be in

the habit of visiting her nightly in the shape of a hare, and that in

consequence she was deprived of her rest. The witch came to her bed, as

a hare, and crossed it, and the tormented one was determined to put an

end to this persecution. For this purpose she procured a hammer, which

she placed under her pillow when she retired to rest. That night the old

witch, unaware of the reception awaiting her, paid her usual visit to her

victim. But the instant she jumped on the bed she received a stunning

blow on the head, and, it need not be added, disappeared. Next morning,

a friend of the persecuted woman, who was in the secret of the whole

case, on some pretext paid the old woman, the supposed witch, a visit,

and she was greatly astonished to find her laid up, suffering from a

frightful black eye, which her visitor believed to be the result of the

blow dealt her with the hammer on the previous night."

_A Witch shot when in the form of a Hare_.

The following tale was told me by the Rev. R. Jones, Rector of

Llanycil:--

An old woman was evicted from a small farm, which she and her family had

held for many years. She was naturally greatly annoyed at such conduct

on the part of the landlord, and of the person who supplanted her.

However, she procured a small cottage close by her late home, and there

she lived. But the interloper did not get on, for she was troubled by a

hare that came nightly to her house. A labouring man, when going to his

work early in the morning, time after time saw a hare going from the farm

towards the cottage occupied by this old woman, and he determined to

shoot this hare. He procured an old gun, and loaded it with pebbles

instead of shot, and awaited the approach of the hare. It came as usual,

the man fired, and the hare rolled over and over, screaming and making a

terrible noise. He, however, did not heed this much, for hares, when

shot, do scream, and so he went to secure the hare, but when he attempted

to seize it, it changed into all shapes, and made horrible sounds, and

the man was so terrified that he ran away, and he was very glad to get

away from the scene of this shocking occurrence. In a few days

afterwards the old woman who occupied the cottage was found dead, and it

was noticed by the woman who laid her out that her arm and shoulder were

riddled with pebbles. It was thought that she was a witch, and that she

had troubled the people who had deprived her of her farm, and that she

did so in the shape of a hare, and no one doubted that the injury

inflicted on the old woman was anything more than the shot of the man,

who supposed that he had killed a hare, when in reality he shot and

killed the old woman. The farmer was never troubled after the death of

the woman whom he had supplanted.

Many variants of this tale are still extant. The parish clerk of

Llangadfan, a mountainous parish in Montgomeryshire, gave me one, which

he located in Nant-yr-eira, but as it is in its main points much like the

preceding, I will not relate it.

_A Witch in the form of a Hare in a Churn_.

In the _Spectator_, No. 117, are these words:--

"If the dairy-maid does not make her butter come so soon as she would

have it, _Moll White_ (a supposed witch) is at the bottom of the

churn."

Until very lately I had thought that the milk only was considered

bewitched if it could not be churned, and not that the witch herself was

at the bottom of the churn. But I have been disabused of this false

notion, for the Rector of Llanycil told me the following story, which was

told him by his servant girl, who figures in the tale. When this girl

was servant at Drws-y-nant, near Dolgelley, one day, the milk would not

churn. They worked a long time at it to no purpose. The girl thought

that she heard something knocking up and down in the churn, and splashing

about. She told her master there was something in the churn, but he

would not believe her; however, they removed the lid, and out jumped a

large hare, and ran away through the open door, and this explained all

difficulties, and proved that the milk was bewitched, and that the witch

herself was in the churn in the shape of a hare.

This girl affirmed that she had seen the hare with her own eyes.

As the hare was thought to be a form assumed by witches it was impossible

for ordinary beings to know whether they saw a hare, or a witch in the

form of a hare, when the latter animal appeared and ran before them along

the road, consequently the hare, as well as the witch, augured evil. An

instance of this confusion of ideas was related to the writer lately by

Mr. Richard Jones, Tyn-y-wern, Bryneglwys.

_A Hare crossing the Road_.

Mr. Jones said that when he was a lad, he and his mother went to Caerwys

fair from the Vale of Clwyd, intending to sell a cow at the fair. They

had not gone far on their way before a large hare crossed the road,

hopping and halting and looking around. His mother was vexed at the

sight, and she said--"We may as well go home, Dick, for no good will come

of our journey since that old witch crosses our path." They went on,

though, and reached Caerwys in safety, but they got no bid for the cow,

although they stayed there all day long.

_A Witch in the form of a Hare hunted by a Black Greyhound_.

The writer has heard variants of the following tale in several parts of

Wales:--

An old woman, credited to be a witch, lived on the confines of the hills

in a small hut in south Carnarvonshire. Her grandson, a sharp

intelligent lad, lived with her. Many gentlemen came to that part with

greyhounds for the purpose of coursing, and the lad's services were

always in requisition, for he never failed in starting a hare, and

whenever he did so he was rewarded with a shilling. But it was noticed

that the greyhounds never caught the hare which the lad started. The

sport was always good, the race long and exciting, but the hare never

failed to elude her pursuers. Scores of times this occurred, until at

last the sportsmen consulted a wise man, who gave it as his opinion that

this was no ordinary hare, but a witch, and, said he--"She can never be

caught but by a black greyhound." A dog of this colour was sought for

far and near, and at last found and bought. Away to the hills the

coursers went, believing that now the hare was theirs. They called at

the cottage for the lad to accompany them and start the prey. He was as

ready as ever to lead them to their sport. The hare was soon started,

and off the dog was slipped and started after it, and the hare bounded

away as usual, but it is now seen that her pursuer is a match for her in

swiftness, and, notwithstanding the twistings and windings, the dog was

soon close behind the distressed hare.

The race became more and more exciting, for hound and hare exerted

themselves to their very utmost, and the chase became hot, and still

hotter. The spectators shout in their excitement--"_Hei! ci du_," ("_Hi!

black dog_,") for it was seen that he was gaining on his victim. "_Hei!

Mam_, _gu_," ("_Hei! grandmother_, _dear_,") shouted the lad, forgetting

in his trouble that his grandmother was in the form of a hare. His was

the only encouraging voice uttered on behalf of the poor hunted hare.

His single voice was hardly heard amidst the shouts of the many. The

pursuit was long and hard, dog and hare gave signs of distress, but

shouts of encouragement buoyed up the strength of the dog. The chase was

evidently coming to a close, and the hare was approaching the spot whence

it started. One single heart was filled with dread and dismay at the

failing strength of the hare, and from that heart came the words--"_Hei!

Mam gu_" ("_Hi! grandmother_, _dear_.") All followed the chase, which

was now nearing the old woman's cottage, the window of which was open.

With a bound the hare jumped through the small casement into the cottage,

but the black dog was close behind her, and just as she was disappearing

through the window, he bit the hare and retained a piece of her skin in

his mouth, but he could not follow the hare into the cottage, as the

aperture was too small. The sportsmen lost no time in getting into the

cottage, but, after much searching, they failed to discover puss. They,

however, saw the old woman seated by the fire spinning. They also

noticed that there was blood trickling from underneath her seat, and this

they considered sufficient proof that it was the witch in the form of a

hare that had been coursed and had been bitten by the dog just as she

bounded into the cottage.

It was believed in England, as well as in Wales, that witches were often

hunted in the shape of hares. Thus in the _Spectator_, No. 117, these

words occur:--

"If a hare makes an unexpected escape from the hounds the huntsman curses

_Moll White_ (the witch)!" "Nay," (says Sir Roger,) "I have known the

master of the pack, upon such an occasion, send one of his servants to

see if _Moll White_ had been out that morning."

In _Yorkshire Legends and Traditions_, p. 160, is a tale very much like

the one which is given above. It is as follows:--

"There was a hare which baffled all the greyhounds that were slipped at

her. They seemed to have no more chance with her than if they coursed

the wind. There was, at the time, a noted witch residing near, and her

advice was asked about this wonderful hare. She seemed to have little to

say about it, however, only she thought they had better let it be, but,

above all, they must take care how they slipped a _black_ dog at it.

Nevertheless, either from recklessness or from defiance, the party did go

out coursing, soon after, with a black dog. The dog was slipped, and

they perceived at once that puss was at a disadvantage. She made as soon

as possible for a stone wall, and endeavoured to escape through a

sheep-hole at the bottom. Just as she reached this hole the dog threw

himself upon her and caught her in the haunch, but was unable to hold

her. She got through and was seen no more. The sportsmen, either in

bravado or from terror of the consequences, went straight to the house of

the witch to inform her of what had happened. They found her in bed,

hurt, she said, by a fall; but the wound looked very much as if it had

been produced by the teeth of a dog, and it was on a part of the woman

corresponding to that by which the hare had been seized by the black

hound before their eyes."

_Early reference to Witches turning themselves into Hares_.

The prevalence of the belief that witches could transform themselves into

hares is seen from a remark made by _Giraldus Cambrensis_ in his

topography of Ireland. He writes:--

"It has also been a frequent complaint, from old times, as well as in

the present, _that certain hags in Wales_, as well as in Ireland and

Scotland, _changed themselves into the shape of hares_, that, sucking

teats under this counterfeit, they might stealthily rob other

people's milk."

_Giraldus Cambrensis_, Bohn's Edition, p. 83.

This remark of the Archdeacon's gives a respectable antiquity to the

metamorphosis of witches, for it was in 1185 that he visited Ireland, and

he tells us that what he records had descended from "old times."

The transformation fables that have descended to us would seem to be

fossils of a pagan faith once common to the Celtic and other cognate

races. It was not thought that certain harmless animals only could

become the temporary abode of human beings. Even a wolf could be human

under an animal form. Thus _Giraldus Cambrensis_ records that a priest

was addressed in Ireland by a wolf, and induced to administer the

consolations of his priestly office to his wife, who, also, under the

shape of a she-wolf was apparently at the point of death, and to convince

the priest that she was really a human being the he-wolf, her husband,

tore off the skin of the she-wolf from the head down to the navel,

folding it back, and she immediately presented the form of an old woman

to the astonished priest. These people were changed into wolves through

the curse of one Natalis, Saint and Abbot, who compelled them every seven

years to put off the human form and depart from the dwellings of men as a

punishment for their sins. (See _Giraldus Cambrensis_, Bohn's Edition,

pp. 79-81.)

_Ceridwen and Gwion_ (_Gwiawn_) _Bach's Transformation_.

But a striking instance of rapid transition from one form to another is

given in the _Mabinogion_. The fable of Ceridwen's cauldron is as

follows:--

"Ceridwen was the wife of Tegid Voel. They had a son named Morvran,

and a daughter named Creirwy, and she was the most beautiful girl in

the world, and they had another son named Avagddu, the ugliest man in

the world. Ceridwen, seeing that he should not be received amongst

gentlemen because of his ugliness, unless he should be possessed of

some excellent knowledge or strength . . . . ordered a cauldron to

be boiled of knowledge and inspiration for her son. The cauldron was

to be boiled unceasingly for one year and a day until there should be

in it three blessed drops of the spirit's grace.

"These three drops fell on the finger of Gwion Bach of Llanfair

Caereinion in Powis, whom she ordered to attend to the cauldron. The

drops were so hot that Gwion Bach put his finger to his mouth; no

sooner done, than he came to know all things. Now he _transformed

himself into a hare_, and ran away from the wrath of Ceridwen. She

also _transformed herself into a greyhound_, and went after him to

the side of a river. Gwion on this jumped into the river and

transformed himself into a fish. She also transformed herself into

an otter-bitch, and chased him under the water until he was fain to

turn himself into a bird of the air; she, as a hawk, followed him,

and gave him no rest in the sky. And just as she was about to swoop

upon him, and he was in fear of death, he espied a heap of winnowed

wheat on the floor of a barn, and he dropped among the wheat and

buried himself into one of the grains. Then she transformed herself

into a high-crested black hen, and went to the wheat and scratched it

with her feet, and found him and swallowed him."

The tale of Ceridwen, whose fame was such that she can without

exaggeration be styled the goddess of witches, resembles in part the

chase of the witch-hare by the black dog, and probably her story gave

rise to many tales of transformations.

I now come to another kind of transformation. It was believed by the

aged in Wales that witches could not only turn themselves into hares, but

that by incantation they could change other people into animals. My

friend, the Rev. T. Lloyd Williams, Wrexham, lodged whilst he was at

Ystrad Meurig School with a Mrs. Jones, Dolfawr, who was a firm believer

in "Rhibo" or Rheibo, or witching, and this lady told my friend the

following tales of _Betty'r Bont_, a celebrated witch in those parts.

_A Man turned into a Hare_.

One of the servant men at Dolfawr, some years before Mr. Williams lodged

there, laughed at Betty'r Bont's supposed power. However, he lived to

repent his folly. One night after he had gone to bed he found that he

had been changed into a hare, and to his dismay and horror he saw a

couple of greyhounds slipped upon him. He ran for bare life, and managed

to elude his pursuers, and in a terrible plight and fright he ran to

Dolfawr, and to his bed. This kind of transformation he ever afterwards

was subjected to, until by spells he was released from the witch's power

over him.

_A Man changed into a Horse_.

Mr. Williams writes of the same servant man who figures in the preceding

tale:--"However, after that, she (Betty'r Bont) turned him into a grey

mare, saddled him, and actually rode him herself; and when he woke in the

morning, he was in a bath of perspiration, and positively declared that

he had been galloping all night."

Singularly enough _Giraldus Cambrensis_ mentions the same kind of

transformation. His words are:--

"I myself, at the time I was in Italy, heard it said of some

districts in those parts, that there the stable-women, who had learnt

magical arts, were wont to give something to travellers in their

cheese, which transformed them into beasts of burden, so that they

carried all sorts of burdens, and after they had performed their

tasks, resumed their own forms."--Bohn's Edition, p. 83.

From Brand's _Popular Antiquities_, p. 225, I find that a common name for

_nightmare_ was _witch-riding_, and the night-mare, he tells us, was "a

spectre of the night, which seized men in their sleep and suddenly

deprived them of speech and motion," and he quotes from Ray's Collection

of Proverbs:--

"Go in God's name, so _ride_ no witches."

I will now leave this subject with the remark that people separated by

distance are often brought together by their superstitions, and probably,

these beliefs imply a common origin of the people amongst whom these

myths prevail.

The following tales show how baneful the belief in witchcraft was; but,

nevertheless, there was some good even in such superstitions, for people

were induced, through fear of being witched, to be charitable.

_A Witch who turned a Blue Dye into a Red Dye_.

An old hag went to a small farmhouse in Clocaenog parish, and found the

farmer's wife occupied in dyeing wool blue. She begged for a little wool

and blue dye. She was informed by Mrs. --- that she was really very

sorry that she could not part with either, as she had only just barely

enough for her own use. The hag departed, and the woman went on with her

dyeing, but to her surprise, the wool came out of the pot dyed red

instead of blue. She thought that possibly it was the dye that was to

blame, and so she gave up for the night her employment, and the next day

she went to Ruthin for a fresh supply of blue to finish her work, but

again she failed to dye the wool blue, for red, and not blue, was the

result of her dyeing. She, in surprise, told a neighbour of her

unaccountable failure to dye her wool blue. This neighbour asked her if

she had been visited by anyone, and she in answer told her that old so

and so had been at her house begging. "Ah," was the response, "I see how

it is you can never dye that wool blue, you have been witched, send the

red wool and the part that you have not touched here to me, and I will

finish the work for you." This was done, and the same colour was used by

both women, but now it became blue, whilst with the other, it was red.

This tale was told me by a gentleman who does not wish his name to appear

in print, as it would lead to the identification of the parties

mentioned, and the descendants of the supposed witch, being respectable

farmers, would rather that the tale of their canny grandmother were

forgotten, but my informant vouches for the truth of the tale.

_A Pig Witched_.

A woman sold a pig at Beaumaris to a man called Dick y Green; she could

not that day sell any more, but the following market day she went again

to Beaumaris. Dick was there waiting her appearance, and he told her

that the pig he bought was bewitched and she must come with him to undo

the curse. Away the woman went with Dick, and when they came to the pig

she said, "What am I to do now, Dick?" "Draw thy hand seven times down

his back," said Dick, "and say every time, '_Rhad Duw arnat ti_,'" i.e.,

"The blessing of God be on thee." The woman did so, and then Dick went

for physic for the pig, which recovered.

_Milk that would not churn_, _and the steps taken to counteract the

malice of the Witch that had cursed the churn and its contents_.

Before beginning this tale, it should be said that some witches were able

to make void the curses of other witches. Bella of Denbigh, who lived in

the early part of the present century, was one of these, and her renown

extended over many counties.

I may further add that my informant is the Rev. R. Jones, whom I have

often mentioned, who is a native of Llanfrothen, the scene of the

occurrences I am about to relate, and that he was at one time curate of

Denbigh, so that he would be conversant with the story by hearsay, both

as to its evil effects and its remedy.

About the year 1815 an old woman, supposed to be a witch, lived at Ffridd

Ucha, Llanfrothen, and she got her living by begging. One day she called

at Ty mawr, in the same parish, requesting a charity of milk; but she was

refused. The next time they churned, the milk would not turn to butter,

they continued their labours for many hours, but at last they were

compelled to desist in consequence of the unpleasant odour which

proceeded from the churn. The milk was thrown away, and the farmer, John

Griffiths, divining that the milk had been witched by the woman who had

been begging at their house, went to consult a conjuror, who lived near

Pwllheli. This man told him that he was to put a red hot crowbar into

the milk the next time they churned. This was done, and the milk was

successfully churned. For several weeks the crowbar served as an

antidote, but at last it failed, and again the milk could not be churned,

and the unpleasant smell made it again impossible for anyone to stand

near the churn. Griffiths, as before, consulted the Pwllheli conjuror,

who gave him a charm to place underneath the churn, stating, when he did

so, that if it failed, he could render no further assistance. The charm

did not act, and a gentleman whom he next consulted advised him to go to

Bell, or Bella, the Denbigh witch. Griffiths did so, and to his great

surprise he found that Bell could describe the position of his house, and

she knew the names of his fields. Her instructions were--Gather all the

cattle to Gors Goch field, a meadow in front of the house, and then she

said that the farmer and a friend were to go to a certain holly tree, and

stand out of sight underneath this tree, which to this day stands in the

hedge that surrounds the meadow mentioned by Bell. This was to be done

by night, and the farmer was told that he should then see the person who

had injured him. The instructions were literally carried out. When the

cows came to the field they herded together in a frightened manner, and

commenced bellowing fearfully. In a very short time, who should enter

the field but the suspected woman in evident bodily pain, and Griffiths

and his friend heard her uttering some words unintelligible to them, and

having done so, she disappeared, and the cattle became quiet, and ever

after they had no difficulty in churning the milk of those cows.

The two following tales were told the writer by the Rev. T. Lloyd

Williams, Wrexham. The scene of the stories was Cardiganshire, and

Betty'r Bont was the witch.

_A Witch who was refused a Goose_, _and her revenge_.

A witch called at a farm when they were feathering geese for sale, and

she begged much for one. She was refused, but it would have been better,

according to the tale, had her request been granted, for they could not

afterwards rear geese on that farm.

Another version of the preceding tale is, that the same witch called at a

farm when the family was seated at dinner partaking of a goose; she

requested a taste, but was refused, when leaving the house door she was

heard to mutter, "Let there be no more geese at . . ." and her curse

became a fact.

_A Witch refused Butter_, _and the consequence_.

An old hag called at a farm and begged the wife to sell her a pound of

butter. This was refused, as they wanted to pot the butter. The witch

went away, therefore, empty handed. The next day when the maid went to

the fields for the cows she found them sitting like cats before a fire,

with their hind legs beneath them. I am indebted to my friend Mr. Lloyd

Williams for this tale. A friend told me the following tale.

_A Witch's Revenge_, _and her Discomfiture_.

An old beggar woman was refused her requests by a farmer's wife, and it

was noticed that she uttered words that might have been a threat, when

going away from the door, and it was also observed that she picked up a

few straws from the yard and carried them away with her. In the course

of a few days, a healthy calf died, and the death of several calves

followed in rapid succession. These misfortunes caused the wife to

remember the old woman whom she had sent away from her door, and the

farmer came to the conclusion that his cattle had been witched by this

old woman, so he went to a conjuror, who told him to cut out the heart of

the next calf that should die, and roast it before the fire, and then,

after it had been properly roasted, he was to prick it all over with a

fork, and if anyone should appear as a beggar, they were to give her what

she asked. The instructions were carried out literally, and just as the

heart was being pricked, the old woman whom the wife had driven away came

up to the house in a dreadful state, and rushing into the house,

said--"In the name of God, what are you doing here?" She was told that

they were doing nothing particular, and while the conversation was being

carried on, the pricking operation was discontinued and the old hag

became less excited, and then she asked the farmer kindly to give her a

few potatoes, which he gladly did, and the old woman departed; and no

more calves died after that.

Tales of the kind related above are extremely common, and might be

multiplied to almost any extent. It would seem that the evil influence

of witches was exerted not only at times when they were refused favours,

but that, at will, they could accomplish mischief. Thus I have heard it

said of an old woman, locally supposed to be a witch, that her very

presence was ominous of evil, and disaster followed wherever she went; if

she were inclined to work evil she was supposed to be able to do so, and

that without any provocation.

I will give one tale which I heard in Garthbeibio of this old hag's

doings.

_A Horse Witched_.