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I thought I'd share with you some of the myths and legends of home homeland, Wales. Wales is a land legends and folklore, and has its fair share of ghosts. Here are just a few tales of hauntings from various pars of the Principality.
exorcised the ghost, but without effect.
The farmer then sent for Griffiths, an Independent minister at Llanarmon, who enticed the ghost to
the barn. The ghost then changed its appearance to the form of a lion, but could not touch Griffiths, because he stood in the centre of a circle, over which the lion could not pass. Griffiths tricked the ghost into appearing in a less formidable shape, and it changed into a mastiff, but Griffiths demanded that it change to something smaller. At last, the ghost appeared as a fly, which was captured by Griffiths and secured in his tobacco 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 forced to remain until a certain tree, which grows by the bridge, reaches the height of the parapet. 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 to limit its upward growth.
THE GHOST OF TY FELIN
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 chased him once more 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 disturbed again.
The next day, the exciseman got up early and went away, 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.
Under interrogation, the tenant of the house, confessed that a travelling Jew, selling jewelry and such items, once lodged with him, and that he had murdered him and cast his body in the well.
BLACK DOGS AND ARTHUR'S SEAT
In Welsh mythology and folklore, Cŵn Annwn" hounds of Annwn") were the spectral hounds of Annwn, the otherworld of Welsh myth. They were associated with a form of the Wild Hunt, presided over by Gwynn ap Nudd. Christians came to dub these mythical creatures as "The Hounds of Hell" or "Dogs of Hell" and theorised they were therefore owned by Satan. However, the Annwn of medieval Welsh tradition is an otherworldly paradise and not a hell, or abode of dead souls.
They were associated with migrating geese, supposedly because their honking in the night is reminiscent of barking dogs
The Cŵn Annwn also came to be regarded as the escorts of souls on their journey to the Otherworld.
The hounds are sometimes accompanied by a fearsome hag called Mallt-y-Nos, "Matilda of the Night". An alternative name in Welsh folklore is Cŵn Mamau ("Hounds of the Mothers").
Hunting grounds for the Cŵn Annwn are said to include the mountain of Cadair Idris, where it is believed "the howling of these huge dogs foretold death to anyone who heard them.The locals claim that the mountain is haunted, and that anyone who spends the night on top of Cadair Idris will wake up either a madman or a poet. Different legends surround the mountain and one of the earliest claims that the giant Idris lived there. Three large stones rest at the foot of the mountain, and legend says that Idris got angry once and kicked them, sending them rolling down the mountainside.
Other Welsh legends state, however, that King Arthur made his kingdom there, hence the name Cadair Idris: or the Seat of Idris.(Arthur)
In 1852 John Roberts a farm labourer paid an unexpected visit to Pwll-y-Wrach. It was a cold winter's morning and John was setting out to work when he found a youth blocking his path. With a harmless gesture he made to pass the youth but all of a sudden a force propelled him through the air. He landed face down above Pwll-y-Wrach, and the force held him there despite John's best efforts to free himself. He struggled for what seemed a lifetime, but in fact was just a few short minutes, until at the sound of a cock crow he was released. The ellyll, still disguised as a youth, stood astride him and warned. " When the cuckoo sings its first note on Flint Mountain I shall come again to fetch you". John got to his feet and stumbled back home, shaken but otherwise unhurt.
The following May, John Roberts died. He had been repairing a wall at Pen-y-glyn on Flint Mountain when it collapsed and crushed him. A lady who witnessed the accident said a cuckoo had come to land on a nearby tree just as it happened. And as the body of John Roberts was being returned to his home the cuckoo followed, singing from tree to tree all the way to the front door.
And since I am looking forward to the release of 'Beloved Enemy', the third in the Destiny Trilogy, I thought I'd be indulgent and share an excerpt from my the first book in the trilogy, 'Starquest', which I think has a really 'spooky' feel to it, although it's SF romance rather than witches or vampires! My heroine is stranded on an uninhabited planet with her companion who has been badly wounded. She keeps guard during the night, watching over him and trying to tend to his wounds, but has a feeling they are not alone.
Then tiny, dancing pinpoints of light appear...
EXCERPT FROM STARQUEST
After a while I decided it was just marsh gas, but as I watched I became aware that the 'flames' were orderly. They moved in groups of threes and fours, gliding in straight lines and then circling to retrace their steps in what seemed to be a methodical fashion, as no Will o' the Wisp ever did. I began to feel I was in the presence of something malevolent...evil. Then I heard the voices. Strange, unearthly voices, which had nothing to do with flesh and blood.
"Take the male," they hissed, "while he yet lives. Before the life-force within him dies and is of no use to us."
"Wait. The female is stronger," came another voice. "Stay until she sleeps. Then will be our chance, and we can take them both."
I reached for my blaster, by now fully charged, and fired a steady beam in the direction of the 'flames.' When I laid down the gun there was nothing, only the darkness. Had the voices been in my imagination, or was it a dream? But I knew I had not slept. Trying to recall the experience, as I record this, I realise they did not speak in words at all. Yet I had understood... I've always loved the night, the beauty of the darkened, star-filled skies. Here, however, on this forsaken and perilous planet, it is menacing, with the sense of something lurking, lying in wait.
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