A Blazing Cat Ghost and the Devil on Horseback: Scenes From a Welsh Neighborhood

As I have mentioned before, Wales has a way of producing many first-rate ghost accounts, ones that are both picturesque and deeply sinister.  In the late 19th century, a young antiquarian named D. Lledrod Davies collected a number of real-life supernatural tales, many of them first-hand accounts.  After his early death in 1890, his friends published these stories in a small pamphlet titled “Ystraeon y Gwyll.”  (“Stories of the Dark.”)  Unfortunately, this pamphlet has apparently never been translated into English (or any other language.)  However, at least two other published works, the “Occult Review” for December 1911, and Jonathan Davies’ book “Folk-lore of West and Mid-Wales” contain translated excerpts.  They focus on the uncanny goings on around an old house near Rhosmeherin, by Ystrad Meurig in Cardiganshire, which Lledrod Davies described as “a perfect nest of spirits.”

“No one liked to pass by there after nightfall, for if they were obliged to, they were certain to see a ghost in some form or other, most often in the shape of a cat, which would sometimes swell and swell until it looked like a great calf. It would also follow people down the road, and they often had trouble to escape it. In fact the mere thought created fear and horror in the bosoms of many of the inhabitants of the neighbourhood, without even a sight of it.

“At that time it was the custom amongst the brotherhood of tailors to go round the country working, and it so happened that one of that guild had a job at a house called Blaen Pincher, not far from the haunted farm, and in order to go home he had to pass that place of spirits, or else go round a long way. And being a timid man by nature, the very thought of having to pass the farm sent terror through his bones.

"Generally he was careful to be home before complete darkness set in (though to do so he had to double the haste of his stitches), and one evening he began his journey hoping to pass the farm before dusk. A little way from the house there was a spring of water, and it was there as a rule that the ghost made its first appearance. The tailor reached this well and was passing it, when he happened to glance behind him, and experienced a shock of fear as he saw a reddish-gray cat trotting close to his heels, which, as he stopped short in alarm, leaped to the top of the garden hedge belonging to the farm. He struck wildly at it with the stick he carried, but the cat, eluding the blows, snarled and grinned, and presently began swelling out in some extraordinary way till it seemed double its size, and made as if it would fly at him. Just then he managed to hit it hard and fairly on the back, but what were his feelings when the blow, which should almost have killed an ordinary animal, went through this one as if it had been vapour, producing a shower of sparks in which the cat disappeared.

“This was too much for the poor tailor, who made for home as fast as he could, though he could never afterwards remember how he got there….I have heard him tell this story many times, and believe he felt real terror every time he came to the part where the cat disappeared in fire. He saw many spirits in the course of his life, but this was the only one that ever made any lasting impression on him.”

Another man passing through the area had an even more disturbing experience.  Leave it to the Welsh to encounter not just an evil fiery cat ghost, but Satan himself.  

“I was going home one evening from my work from Ros y Wlad, and had to go through Rhosmeherin.

“That place, you know, is a terrible spot for its ghosts. People say that they are seen there in broad daylight. As to myself I did not see them in the daytime, but many a time was I kept there all night by Jack-a-Lantern. [“Corpse-candles”]

 “I saw a ghost in the form of a cat there also, and when I began to strike him he disappeared in a blazing fire. But now for the gentleman. I was near the spot where I had seen the cat, when I heard the sound of a horse coming after me. I jumped one side to make room for him to pass; but when he came opposite me he did not go forward a single pace faster than myself. When I went on slowly, he went slowly; when I went fast, he went fast. “Good night,” said I at last, but no answer. Then I said it was a very fine night, but the gentleman on horseback did not seem to take any notice of what I said. Then thinking that he might be an Englishman (the man was speaking in Welsh), I said in English ‘Good night,’ but he took no notice of me still. 

 “By this I was beginning to perspire and almost ready to fall down with fright, hoping to get rid of him, as I now perceived that he was the Devil himself appearing in the form of a gentleman. I could think from the sound of the saddle and the shining stirrups that the saddle was a new one. On we went along the dark narrow lane till we came to the turnpike road, when it became a little lighter, which gave me courage to turn my eyes to see what kind of a man he was. The horse looked like a soldier’s horse, a splendid one, and his feet like the feet of a calf, without any shoes under them, and the feet of the gentleman in the stirrups were also like the feet of a calf. My courage failed me to look what his head and body were like. On we went till we came to the cross-road. I had heard many a time that a ghost leaves everybody there. Well, to the cross-road we came. But ah! I heard the sound of the ground as if it were going to rend, and the heavens going to fall upon my head; and in this sound I lost sight of him (the Spirit). How he went away I know not, nor the direction he went.”

Book Clipping of the Day

This nifty little ghost story was recorded by Jonathan Ceredig Davies in his "Folk-lore of West and Mid-Wales," 1911:

There was a farmhouse in a certain part of West Wales, in which a large and respectable family lived. But there was one room in the house haunted by a troublesome spirit which often cried out in a mournful voice, “Hir yw’r dydd, a hir yw’r nos, a hir yw aros Arawn” (long is the day, and long is the night, and long is waiting for Arawn). Things went on in this manner for a long time, and not one hardly ventured to open the door of that room. But one cold winter evening when every member of the family sat around the fire, before supper, somebody called at the door of the house, and a stranger was welcomed in to warm himself by the fire. The stranger asked for some food and a bed for the night. He was told he was welcomed of food, but that they were sorry they could not offer him a bed, as all the beds were hardly enough for themselves, and that the only spare bed-room in the house was haunted. Then the stranger begged to be allowed to sleep in that room, as he felt sure that there was nothing to do him harm there. The man appeared very tired, and spoke but little except in reply to questions, and when it was found out that his name was “Arawn,” all the family looked into each’s face in great surprise. The stranger presently went to bed in the haunted room, and strange to say everything was quiet in that room that night, that is, no spirit was heard as usual crying and moving things about. When the family got up next morning, the first thing was to find out what kind of night the stranger passed in the haunted room, but to the surprise of all the man was gone, and the ghost was also gone, for the room was never haunted afterwards.