Of writers' Block and Welsh myths

Writers Block' strikes us all at times.  As a fantasy and Science Fiction writer, I often find reading old myths and legends will get the creative juices flowing again, and wake up the muse.  Reworking old legends to a modern setting is a good way to start, and I usually find a story will evolve in my mind which is completely different to the original idea that sparked it  and, while going off in a totally different direction, provides the 'starting point' and sometimes even a character, to build on.My native Wales is a land full of myths and legends, with  its fair share of ghosts, and is a rich source of ideas. Usually, it is the beautiful landscape itself, and the many pools, waterfalls and mountains that provide the settings for these stories, rather than old houses or castles.

My upcoming romance 'The Matchmaker's Mare' started that way and the hero, a horse dealer and trainer, loves re-telling the Welsh myths, himself.

Here are just a few tales of hauntings from various parts of the Principality. (Apologies in advance for some of the 'hard to pronounce Welsh names!)

THE HAUNTING OF LLANIDLOES

the Short Bridge, Llanidloes

A lady who could not rest in her grave because of her misdeeds haunted the locals until they could stand it no more.  Somehow they enticed her to shrink and enter into a bottle, 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 at Llanidloes, and there the lady was to remain until the ivy that grow up the buttresses should overgrow the sides of the bridge, and reach the parapet.  In the year 1848, the old bridge was blown up, and a new one built instead of it.

 

THE GHOST 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. This is how he came to be there:

It  not is 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 earth or sand into the milk, and thus spoil the curds. The dairy was also 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,  an aged priest visited the farm yard, and in the presence of a crowd of spectators exorcised the ghost, but without effect.

Llandegla  Bridge

The farmer then sent for Griffiths, an Independent minister at Llanarmon, who enticed the ghost to the barn. The ghost 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 happens, 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 GHOSTLY GIANT OF PONT-Y-GLYN

Pont y Glyn

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 was a servant at Garth Meilio, said 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, got up and grew to gigantic proportions as she continued 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.

THE GHOST OF TY FELIN
Now for one which doesn't concern a bridge! An exciseman, overtaken by night, went to a house called Ty Felin, (Yellow House) 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 a while, 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 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 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. The ghost had his revenge!

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Welsh Myths and legends - an old Welsh mansion and its legends

Nanteos Mansion

One of my favourite places is Nanteos Mansion, near where I used to live in Wales. I used to keep my horses at the stables and spent many a happy hour soaking up the atmosphere of this historic house, built in 1738.

The Mansion has its share of ghosts and an interesting history. Late at night the stables would ring with unearthly screeches, like souls in torment. Actually it was nothing more sinister than a colony of screech owls nesting nearby. (Or so I was told.) A short distance from the house itself is a little copse used to bury the Powell family’s pets. I would spend sunny Saturday afternoons, after I'd finished riding and caring for my horses, writing on the grass in this peaceful little haven, or looking at the sad little graves. Some of the inscriptions are quite touching and the owner of the stables, which, when I was there, had been sold as a separate entity from the Mansion itself, swore he’d heard ghostly hooves galloping past, late at night.

Many legends name Nanteos as the one-time resting place of the Holy Grail, the chalice that Jesus and his disciples are believed to have drunk from at the Last Supper. The cup, known as ‘the Nanteos Cup’ was apparently brought back from the Middle East in AD 63 by Joseph of Arimathea, who settled at Glastonbury Monastery in the west of England. When the monastery was dissolved in 1539, a number of monks fled with the Holy Grail to Strata Florida Abbey, in the Aberystwyth area, and from there to Nanteos, where the cup passed into the hands of the Powell family. The Grail was famous for its supposed healing powers, and water poured from it was highly sought after as a cure for various diseases. I’ve actually seen the ‘grail’, or what was left of it The owner of the house (and the cup) a Major Merrilees, eventually moved to Herefordshire, taking the Nanteos Cup with him. It is understood that it currently resides in a bank vault somewhere. It is a small wooden vessel (5″ diameter, 3″ deep) in a very poor state today, due to pilgrims’ biting large chunks out of it, over the years, in order to aid recovery from their ills. 

Nanteos stable yard

Although the Holy Cup is not at Nanteos anymore, there are still ghosts to be found in the many rooms of the mansion. One of the ghosts said to haunt the mansion is the spirit of Elizabeth Powell, the late wife of William Powell, who wanders the hallways looking for her lost jewellery. The story goes that her husband William Powell dearly loved her and showered her with jewels. She could not bear to be parted from her treasured jewellery and dreaded to think what would happen to them after her death. Knowing that she was dying, she rose from her death-bed and hid her jewels. Later that night she died. Today her ghost, shrouded in a long flowing gown, still wanders like a lost soul searching for her hidden jewels. It is said she will haunt anyone that dares look for her treasure. 

 Parties were often held at Nanteos. One evening the house was full of guests, an army officer present went to dress for dinner. Climbing the stairs to his room he met a striking woman in evening dress, holding a strange looking candle stick. Thinking she was one of the guests he bowed and bade her good evening. The lady did not answer but carried on down the stairs as if she had not seen him. He thought it strange but continued up to his room. On returning to the party he gazed around looking for the lady. Eventually he asked if anyone has seen this woman. Immediately, he was taken to one side and told never to speak of the lady with the candle stick or there would be a death in the family. That night, the Lord of Nanteos died... and the strange candle the lady had carried was found a week later in a dusty shelf in a corner of the Silver Vault Room. A phantom horse and carriage is also said to pull up to the front entrance in the middle of the as a forewarning of a death. The most eerie sighting was from the front door, and was that of what was thought to be smoke in the inner hall. The witness stared in disbelief as the smoke transformed in a figure dressed in a long flowing dress. She began coming towards the front door, terrifying the onlooker so much that he ran to Aberystwyth, not daring to look back.

Horses and voices were heard in the stable yard at Nanteos on two consecutive nights at about 4.00am, but as soon as the listener peered into the yard the noise abruptly stopped. (The picture above is the arched entrance to the cobbled stable yard. - two stone eagles and a horse used to stand on the archway but one of the previous owner sold them to America!) 

My favourite story is a rather sad one. One of the windows on the bottom storey has been boarded up for many, many years. The story goes that the lady of the house was watching her husband ride up the drive towards her, when the horse spooked and threw him, killing him instantly. She could not bear to look out of that window again and ordered it to be boarded over and so it remained until the mansion was bought in the early 1990s by a large Consortium and turned into a conference centre,. She mourned for him the rest of her life and they say his ghost still rides up the drive at night. I like to think she rides with him now.

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Shadows 0f Nightshade, Excerpt, Review and #Giveaway

This is my post during the blog tour for Shadows of Nightshade by Lyla Oweds. Shadows of Nightshade is a ghost story for romance and tragedy lovers.

This blog tour is organized by Lola's Blog Tours and the tour runs from 13 till 26 March. You can see the tour schedule here.

Shadows of Nightshade (The Garden of Eternal Flowers #1)
By Lyla Oweds
Genre: Paranormal Romance/ Paranormal Horror
Age category: Young Adult/ New Adult
Release Date: 8 March 2023

Blurb:
I dream of a time where I was warm, safe, and loved.

But my waking reality is starkly different.

Anxiety plagues me and spirits haunt the shadows. No matter how fast I run, I can’t seem to escape my past.

The only solace and steady force in my life is my best friend, Finn.

And now… there’s a ghost haunting me. And I’m not certain if it wants help or if it wants to kill me. There’s only one person who can understand: Finn’s brother, Damen.

However, in reaching out, I’m betraying Finn and setting things into motion that cannot be undone.

But nobody ever said that doing the right thing was easy.



The Garden of Eternal Flowers is a re-envisioning of my Grimm Cases series. Eternal Flowers has taken my original vision of Bianca's story and transformed it into something new and beautiful. Some chapters are similar, and some dialogue is the same, as The Grimm Cases, Origins, but overall, about 75% of the book has been entirely revisioned with new plot points, mystery, and interpersonal relationships. Also, unlike Origins (originally a Wattpad release), there is now a clear beginning, climax, and conclusion in each individual novel, which allows them to be read alone or as part of the ongoing series.

I hope that you will enjoy Shadows of Nightshade as much as I enjoyed writing it. Truly, it is an honor to write about Bianca and her boys, and all of these characters are near and dear to my heart.

Trigger Warning: This series deals with the aftermath of severe childhood trauma.

Links:
- Goodreads
- Bookbub
- Amazon
- B&N
- Kobo
- Radish

About the Author:
Lyla Oweds is a paranormal / urban fantasy author who resides in the beautiful Pocono Mountains, Pennsylvania with her husband, children, and animals. While she enjoys all genres of fiction, she has a deep appreciation for fantasy, romance, mystery, crime, and horror. Lyla has a bachelor’s in anthropology and will be completing her master’s in information technology in 2023.

Writing is her moonlighting passion, and she loves having the opportunity to share her perspective as a disabled (profoundly hard of hearing) woman. During the daylight hours, Lyla works as a principal / lead design and development specialist focusing on user experience and accessibility. When not working, Lyla is usually indulging in one of her many hobbies such as amusing her children, gardening, crocheting, interior decorating, baking, cooking, or playing video games.

Author links:
- Website
- Facebook
- Instagram
- Amazon
- Goodreads

EXCERPT:

 “It’s nothing,” Miles muttered. “Just… ghosts.”

 
“Oh.” That was it? Did he not like ghosts? But did he not realize that ghosts were everywhere?
Although, to be fair, I did not like to be around most people. And they were everywhere too. I, too, was exhausted from the overstimulation. 

I could relate.

“Don’t worry.” I squeezed his hand. “We can work together. Okay?”

Miles slowed down, and my chest tightened as the rude nature of my question hit. “I-I don’t want you to do everything for me!” I clarified. “It’s… I thought, maybe if we worked together, we could get finished faster.” His expression remained unchanged, and I added, almost begrudgingly. “I’ll give you some money, obviously.” 

It made sense, if both of us were doing the job, we should share the profit.  

His nose wrinkled in distaste. “I’m not going to take your money.”

“But…” I’d been keeping track of their spending and was working out a payment plan with interest. “I already owe you—”

“I’m not taking any money from you,” Miles interrupted. “Ever. Do you understand?” 

“Okay.” I understood that he believed this, but who knew what the future held? Where there was a will, there’s a way. 

Miles narrowed his eyes. “Why do I feel you don’t actually understand?” 

 He looked at me before his shoulders slumped and he sighed. “I’m too tired to think.” 

He was kind of cute, all disheveled and confused. When he was this vulnerable, it was easy to ignore the rest of the world and focus on him. His arm brushed against mine, and my heart began to beat a little faster. 

There was something horrifying beginning to curl in my stomach.
I could never let him know. Even acknowledging such feelings was unsafe.

Giveaway
There is a tour wide giveaway for the blog tour of Shadows of Nightshade. One winner wins a paperback copy of Shadows of Nightshade.

For a chance to win, enter the rafflecopter below:
a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

 

 

MY REVIEW

I understand that this is a rewrite of the original series. I have not read the original, which I am quite happy about since it means I came to this version without any preconcieved ideas and was therefore not in the position of being either pleased or disappointed when comparing it with the original.

 

I have to say I found Bianca to be rather annoying. At times she seems indecisive and flighty,  although since she has apparently had severe trauma in her past, which probably accounts for it. At other times though, she shows an inner strength and sensitivity which kept me reading and rooting for her. I enjoyed the world building and the other characters are complex and intriguing.

Despite being somewhat irritated by Bianca, this book still kept me turning the pages, there were so many questions I wanted to be answered, and the story is fast paced and intriguing. However,  I can only give four stars rather than five, since it came to - what to me at least - seemed to be quite an abrubt end. I fully expected there to be another two or three chapters and while I know it is the first of a series, I had expected it to be more of a 'complete' story. Nevertheless, I would definitely recommend this book as an interesting and enjoyable read, and it left me wanting to read the next book in the series.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Nanteos Mansion and its ghosts

Hello lovelies -

I hope you're staying well and surviving the enforced 'staying at home' and 'social distancing'.

Nanteos Mansion

Although I've lived in a small village in England since my marriage, my heart is still in my homeland and I cherish the times when I've been able to go back to visit my family and my old haunts, and long for the time when I'll be able to do so again.

One of my favourite places is Nanteos Mansion, set in about thirty acres of land near where I used to live. I used to keep my horses at the beautiful old stables and spent many a happy hour soaking up the atmosphere of this historic house. Nanteos is a Grade I listed, early Georgian country house situated just outside Aberystwyth, on Wales’s west coast. The house was built in 1738 by William Powell, and it remained the Powell family home for over 200 years, until the 1950s, when Lady Powell, the last of the family, died without children and the Mansion fell into the hands of a distant relative.

Horses in front of the mansion

Nanteos Mansion is also reputed to be home to a number of ghosts. These include the spirit of Elizabeth Powell, the late wife of William Powell, who wanders the hallways looking for her lost jewels; a phantom horse and carriage that pulls up to the front entrance in the middle of the night; and the ghost of harpist Gruffydd Evan, who played for the Powell family in the music room every Christmas for 69 years and whose music can still be heard in the woods around the house. My favourite story is a rather sad one. One of the windows on the bottom storey has been boarded up for many, many years. The story goes that the lady of the house was watching her husband ride up the drive towards her, when the horse spooked and threw him, killing him instantly. She could not bear to look out of that window again and ordered it to be boarded over and so it remains to this day. I have to say I never saw a ghost there myself, and always felt the house was a friendly place, rather than a sinister one, but sometimes, late at night the stables would ring with unearthly screeches, like souls in torment. Actually it was nothing more sinister than a colony of screech owls nesting nearby.

The Mansion itself was slowly decaying when I had my horses there, the stables having been sold several years before. Now the stables and Mansion are in the hands of a consortium who have renovated the mansion and use it for functions such as weddings and conferences. At least the house is now restored to its former glory and put to use.

Entrance to the old stable yard

Sadly, last time I visited, I found the elegant, roomy looseboxes changed into holiday apartments. No horses looking over the half doors, no stamping hooves or soft welcoming whinnies.
I closed my eyes and imagined my three horses, now gone over the Rainbow Bridge,
Flikka, Sally and Star, as I often used to see them in the early morning, next to each other with their heads over the doors in that lovely old stable range, overlooking the cobbled yard, reminiscent of days long gone by.

Apologies -  I promised I'd tell you about Merlin's Oak, in Carmarthen. I forgot! I'll tell you next time - It's not exactly a ghost story, but it is interesting - and some of it, at least, is true.

and finally...
FREE AUDIOBOOKS
 If you're at a loose end in these strange and rather scary times, there are so many great books out there to be read, try a new author. If you'd like to listen to a book rather than read it, You can get my Destiny Trilogy for FREE.

GET YOUR FREE CODES NOW:
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Beloved Enemy:https://freeaudiobookcodes.com/book_details.php?BOOK_ID=3285












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More ghosts of old Wales

 Hi folks, hope you're keeping safe and not going too crazy with social distancing!
(You might want to keep your distance from these ghosts though!)


 THE GHOST 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. This is how he came to be there:

It  not is 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 earth or sand into the milk, and thus spoil the curds. The dairy was also 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,  an aged priest visited the farm yard, and in the presence of a crowd of spectators 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 GHOSTLY GIANT OF PONT-Y-GLYN

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 was a servant at Garth Meilio, said 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, got up and grew to gigantic proportions as she continued 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.

and finally...
FREE AUDIOBOOKS
 If you're at a loose end in these strange and rather scary times, there are so many great books out there to be read, try a new author. If you'd like to listen to a book rather than read it, You can get my Destiny Trilogy for FREE.

GET YOUR FREE CODES NOW:
Starquest: https://freeaudiobookcodes.com/book_details.php?BOOK_ID=2735
Children of the Mist: https://freeaudiobookcodes.com/book_details.php?BOOK_ID=3339 
Beloved Enemy:https://freeaudiobookcodes.com/book_details.php?BOOK_ID=3285https://freeaudiobookcodes.com/book_details.php?BOOK_ID=3285

For insider news and subscriber-only info, subscribe to my occasional Newsletter. I promise not to spam and your in-box will only see an email from me every 3 or 4 months or so - unless of course I have something really Newsworthy to share! I also promise that I never have and never will share your information or email address with anyone or any organisation.  http://madmimi.com/signups/196357/join

Welsh Legend Monday - ghosts and ghoulies

Wales is a land full of myths and legends, and has its fair share of ghosts.  I thought I'd share  just a few tales of hauntings from various pars of the Principality.

THE HAUNTING OF LLANIDLOES

There was once a lady who died but could not rest in her grave because of her misdeeds, and she haunted the locals until they could stand it no more.  Somehow they enticed her to shrink and enter into a bottle, after appearing in a good many hideous forms; but when she got into the bottle, they corked it down securely, and the bottle was cast into the pool underneath the Short bridge at Llanidloes, There the lady was to remain until the ivy that grow up the buttresses should overgrow the sides of the bridge, and reach the parapet.  In the year 1848, the old bridge was blown up, and a new one built instead of it. So for all anyone knows, she is still trapped in her bottle!

 THE GHOST 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. This is how he came to be there:

It  not is 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 earth or sand into the milk, and thus spoil the curds. The dairy was also 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,  an aged priest visited the farm yard, and in the presence of a crowd of spectators 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 will 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 GHOSTLY GIANT OF PONT-Y-GLYN

There is a picturesque valley 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 leaps and tumbles.  Here people who have travelled by night affirm that they have seen ghosts—the ghosts of those who have been murdered in this secluded place. Among the ghosts, a man who was a servant at Garth Meilio, said that one night, when he was returning home late from Corwen, he saw before him, seated on a heap of stones, a woman dressed in Welsh costume.  He wished her good night, but she returned him no answer.  She, got up and grew to gigantic proportions as she continued down the road.

THE GHOST OF TY FELIN

An exciseman, overtaken by night, went to a house called Ty Felin, (Yellow House) 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 a while, 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 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 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 occupier 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 Arthur made his kingdom there, hence the name Cadair Idris: or the Seat of Idris.

Pwll-y-Wrach, the Witches Pool.

There is a pool hidden from the road on the top of Flint Mountain, in Flint North Wales. The pool is so small that travellers these days would not barely notice it. But this was not always so. In days gone by Flint Mountain was a bare and desolate place and the pool was known as Pwll-y-Wrach, the Hag's Pool or the Witches Pool, the place where the ellyllon (as the Welsh call goblins) would congregate, and thus a place where humans would stay well clear of, especially after dark.

In 1852, on a cold winter's morning, John Roberts a farm labourer 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  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.