As a ghost hunter, I'm a complete unbeliever, and a novice. I tend towards comedy rather than scares and I've only written one book that may qualify for Halloween (Mirror Magic which its spooky mist and skeletons). Yet, somehow I find myself researching for a book on Welsh giants, goblins and ghosts.
I must admit, the research has been fun. I spent a memorable evening with the Llangynidr Network Group, learning about the Llangynidr ghost, which was seen by the Reverend Elwyn Thomas on his way to his lodgings after a long day of preaching.
Almost level with my own face I saw that of an old man, over every feature of which the putty coloured skin was drawn tightly, except the forehead which was lined with deep wrinkles. The lips were extremely thin and appeared bloodless. The toothless mouth stood half open. The cheeks were hollow and sunken like those of a corpse, and the eyes, which seemed far back in the middle of the head, were unnaturally luminous and piercing. The terrible object was wrapped in two bands of old yellow calico, one of which was drawn under the chin and over the cheeks and tied at the top of his head. The other was drawn around the top of the wrinkled forehead and fastened at the back of the head. So deep and indelible impression it made on my mind that, were I an artist, I could paint that face today, and reproduce the original (excepting, perhaps, the luminous eyes) as accurately as if it were photographed.
The canal path to Llangynidr - no ghosts here
My second research trip was to a ghost tour at Cardiff Castle. Most of the stories had no basis in history when I checked them later, and many of them couldn’t be verified at all. (‘Last week, a tour group saw that rocking chair move.’) But the whole evening was a fantastic exercise in building atmosphere. We were told to turn our torches on then off again so our eyes never adjusted to the dark. We crowded into a room and the guide began his stories, flashing his torch around the rom to create shadows as he spoke.
At the end of the evening, one woman thought she saw something and jumped, which caused another woman to give a bloodcurdling scream, which made everyone jump and caused another lady to burst into tears. We looked for the ghost but it had fled, if it had ever been there. But I’m sure the incident will have made a great story for the next tour group. As we were leaving, the first lady was saying she must have seen something because she wouldn’t have jumped for no reason. It’s interesting how quick we can be to convince ourselves of these things.
Cardiff Castle - ghosts? Probably not
Which brings me to my final trip, to Llancaiach Fawr manor. It’s well known for being haunted, but I was there to look at the witch marks – burn marks that people used to make around the house to ward off evil.
Witch marks
It was fascinating, and very creepy. It was also January and the house was freezing. We stood shivering, looking at the mumified items that had been found buried inside the walls, and then we climbed the steps to the attic bedroom where there were hundreds of witch marks around the door, on every rafter. Each one would have taken hours to create. This was the steward’s bedroom. I imagined him lying in bed, cold, and so terrified of evil spirits that he spent every spare moment burning protective marks around his bed.
If I had to pick one of these three places to be haunted, I'd go with Llancaich Fawr. It has the atmosphere, the long history of superstition and it was used as a courtroom for some witch trials. But no, I still don’t believe in ghosts. I do however believe in the power of the human brain to conjure up terrifying images and stories. Happy Halloween!
Mummified shoes found inside wall at Llancaiach Fawr
Claire Fayers
2 comments:
My grandad was walking home from work across dark fields when a white skull with brilliant, shining eyes appeared right in front of him and screamed, blood-freezingly, right in his face. He nearly fell over in shock. A barn owl. It had been hunting, skimming close to the ground, disguised by its dark back. Coming suddenly on Grandad, it swerved upwards, wings spread, its white face right in front of his-- and a barn owl's screech is bad enough if you aren't on your own, in the dark, staring into a skull-like white face.
The Reverend's account of the ghost he met sounds a bit like he met a barn owl too-- and then the story was added to in the telling.
I think you could be right Susan. The vicar described swinging his umbrella at the figure's body and it went straight through, which it would do if there wasn't actually a body, just an owl. And then he ran before he realised what he'd seen, and he fell into a fever that night which would have given plenty of time for his brain to invent the extra details. I do find it fascinating how these stories come about.
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