Romance that's 'Out of This World'

Sunday, 5 April 2020

More Legends and Ghost stories of Old Wales

PWLL-Y-WRACH - THE WITCHES' POOL

Pwlch-y-Wrach

There is a pool hidden from the road among a copse on the top of Flint Mountain, in Flint North Wales. The pool is so small that travellers would not give it a second glance. 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 Hags' 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 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 it's 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 came to land on a nearby tree just as it happened. When 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.

Cadair Idris

Last week I told you about the Cŵn Annwn whose hunting grounds include the mountan of Cadair Idris.

Several Welsh legends state that King Arthur made his kingdom there, hence the name Cadair Idris: or the Seat of Idris. Being Welsh, of course I myself subscribe to this theory! Merlin was supposedly born in Carmarthen, West Wales, and his connection with the area forms the background for my fantasy novella Dancing With Fate , which also features not only the Ellylldan, or fire goblins, but a Greek Muse!
(I hope I've aroused your curiosity as to how she fits into my take on Welsh folklore, and that you've enjoyed some of the myths and legends of my beloved homeland.)You can download Dancing With Fate for FREE at Smashwords, until 20th April 2020. https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/53249

Next week I'll tell you about Merlin's Oak, in Carmarthen. It's not exactly a ghost story, but it is interesting - and some of it, at least, is true.

and finally...
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Monday, 30 March 2020

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...
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Sunday, 22 March 2020

Welsh Legends - Ghosts of old Wales

Hi everyone - hope you're keeping safe. If you're in enforced social distancing and feeling at a bit of a loss, how about a couple of old Welsh ghost stories to take your mind off the current weird and rather scary situation.

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 tenant of the house, confessed that a travelling Jew, selling jewelery 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

Cadair Idris at night

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.

Join me next week for some more old Welsh ghost stories.

Wednesday, 18 March 2020

Lights Out - Spotlight of Science Fiction novel by Kayelle Allen

Lights Out

Bringer of Chaos: How Six Became Six

by Kayelle Allen

Genre: Science Fiction

Join the Ghost Corps, they said. You'll live forever, they said. You'll save mankind, they said. They didn't say that to do it, first he had to die.

When Tornahdo signs on the dotted line, he puts his life into the steady hands of the mighty Ghost Corps. Three grisly deaths and three agonizing resurrections later, he's assigned duty on the space station Enderium Six.

He's facing his most dangerous mission yet, the very reason the corps exists. Do they expect him to win? Fat chance. Tornahdo and his team are already dead and this mission is codenamed "Lights Out." No, there's more to this than he can see.

To discover the truth, he must face an unbeatable, unkillable enemy, and this time--somehow--find a way to keep himself alive...

Tornahdo is facing his most dangerous mission, the very reason Ghost Corps exists. He must take out the king responsible for every war between humans and Ultras since the origin of the Ultra bloodline.

If he succeeds, the war is over. If he doesn't, the Ultras will rule mankind for another thousand years...

Add to Goodreads

kayelleallen.com/chaos-lights/

I’m Science Fiction author Kayelle Allen. I did a tour in the US Navy, where I climbed around airplanes fixing black boxes that helped pilots find their way home. I wrote my first novel at 18 but to this day, it’s hidden under my bed, where (trust me) it will remain. Gems from it, however, launched several series in my galaxy-wide universe of stories. From childhood, I was the victim of an overactive imagination and inherited the Irish gift of gab from my mother. From my father, I got a healthy respect for mechanical things. Small wonder I write Science Fiction and Fantasy peopled with misbehaving robots, mythic heroes, role playing immortal gamers, and warriors who purr.

I’m a member of RomVets, a group of military and former military women who write romance. In 2014, I was awarded an honorary lifetime membership to the OutlantaCon Science Fiction Convention for support of the convention since its debut. I founded Marketing for Romance Writers (more about them below), and today it has over 7k members. I also lead a writer’s group in my community. Now that I’m retired, I stay busier than ever. I’ve been married so long I’m tenured.

I am a graphic artist as a hobby. Most of the art and banners on this site and in my social media were created by me, including my logo. I have a great design team that I also work with, commissioning special pieces. Check out their pages. Jamin (Volgraza) and Livius (Nano-Core) have huge amounts of talent. I am also privileged to work with a cosplayer who portrays my immortal king, Pietas. Take a moment to check out Nik Nitsvetov’s amazing work.

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Monday, 16 March 2020

The legend of Devils Bridge

I used to live near a well known beauty spot called Pontarfynach, or Devils Bridge. It is really three bridges, built over a spectacular and beautiful waterfall, which rages down into a deep pool known as the Devils Punchbowl. The first bridge was built by the Monks of Strata Florida, (where the Holy Grail is reputed to have been hidden for a while) in 1075. In the 18th Century it was deemed to be unsafe, and a second bridge was built, over the first. The third bridge being built over that in 1901.

I thought it would be nice to share the legend of how the first bridge was built. There are a few versions, but this is my favourite:

Image result for images of devils bridge wales

There was an old woman who had a cow of which she was very fond, and which provided her with all the milk she needed. Early one morning she was distraught to find that the cow had somehow managed to cross the river and was now grazing on the bank the other side.

The old lady looked at the swirling river and wondered how she would be able to get her cow back.

“What the Devil can I do now?” she asked aloud.

Suddenly there was a smell of sulphur and a cloud of thick smoke, out of the middle of which appeared Old Nick himself!

“You called?” he smirked.

The old lady was made of stern stuff,.and after a moment’s hesitation, she explained her predicament.

Satan grinned wickedly.

“That’s easily sorted,” he said craftily, “I can build you a bridge – but it will cost you.”

“How much?” the old lady asked uneasily.

“Oh nothing much, just the soul of the first living thing to cross the bridge,” the Devil stated cunningly, knowing full well that she would have to cross the bridge herself to get her cow.

“Done!” said the old woman.

The Devil waved his arms and there, spanning the falls, was a beautiful new stone bridge.

The Devil laughed nastily, “now for my payment he said smugly.

The old lady was not as naïve as she appeared. She put her hand into her apron pocket and drew out a crust of bread which she had put there for her breakfast, and threw it across to the other side of the bridge. Immediately her little dog ran across the bridge and gobbled it up. Satan knew he had been outwitted, the soul of a dog was of no use to him; he scowled furiously and disappeared in an even bigger cloud of foul smelling black smoke, than the first, and was never seen in those parts again.

The old woman crossed the lovely new bridge, and having retrieved both her cow and her dog, made her way home, humming softly to herself.

The bridge can still be seen to this very day, and if you ever visit this part of Wales, be sure to take a trip on the delightful Devil's Bridge narrow gauge railway, which takes you through the mountains to the Devil's Bridge visitor centre.

Monday, 9 March 2020

Myths and legends of Wales - Dwynwen

I've decided to make Monday a day for relating legends and stories of my homeland, Wales.

Last week I posted about St David, Wales' Patron Saint. This week, I thought I'd tell you about another Saint, this time a woman, St Dwynwen. I know it's a little late, but she is actually the Welsh equivalent of St Valentine.

January 25th is St Dwynwen's Day - the Welsh Valentine's Day!

There are several legends about St Dwynwen, this is one of the most popular:

Dwynwen was the beautiful daughter of Brychan Brycheiniog. She fell in love with a prince called Maelon Dafodrill, but unfortunately her father had already arranged that she should marry someone else. Dwynwen was so upset that she could not marry Maelon that she begged God to make her forget him. After falling asleep, Dwynwen was visited by an angel, who appeared carrying a sweet potion designed to erase all memory of Maelon and turn him into a block of ice. He then gave three wishes to Dwynwen.
Her first wish was that Maelon be thawed; her second that God meet the hopes and dreams of true lovers; and third, that she should never marry.

Dwynwen became a nun, fulfilling her wish to never marry, and left for the island of Anglesey to build a Church. This is referred to as Llanddwynwen, literally meaning 'Church of Dwynwen'.

Isn't that a romantic (if rather sad) story?

Belated Happy St Dwynwen's Day!

The lighthouse and cross at Llanddwynwen

(Picture courtesy of Wikipaedia)

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