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Comment by Josh Edwards on July 25, 2016 at 2:04

I have been busy reading through forgotten stories. Some have been forgotten for a very good reason. Some of the Flaxman Low stories are good, but they would last no longer than twenty minutes at the most. One book I did enjoy was In Knopfsberg Keep by Ralph Cram and Washington Irving's story of the German Student. Gertrude Atherton is another who us underrated.

Comment by Josh Edwards on July 16, 2016 at 9:09

It is a curious story. I will see what folklore is attached to the area. All I can think of for now, with the appearance of the horse, is Epona and goddess who was worshipped as a horse in the Mabinogion.

Comment by Glyndwr Edwards on July 16, 2016 at 6:33

Keep on with the reading. Here is the strange tale Rev.J.D.Davies wrote of concerning his brother and father who was Rector at St. Illtud's Church, Oxwich Bay, on the Gower. There is something unsettling about the connection with ancient beliefs.

My oldest brother, now deceased, when a lad of about thirteen or fourteen years of age, had been out one evening with my father fishing in the bay. It was late when they landed, and by the time they had finished mooring the boat, it was nearly twelve o’clock. They had just gained the top of the beach, which here abuts onto the narrow path leading to the church, when my brother happened to look behind him, saw what he described to me, to be a white horse walking on its hind legs and proceeding leisurely along the path to the church gate; having called my father’s attention to this strange spectacle, he turned around for about a minute, and watched the creature, or whatever it was, until it reached the gate, or rather the stone stile by the side, which the animal crossed, apparently without the slightest difficulty, still going on its hind legs. The uncanny thing then disappeared. The only remark my father made was, “Come along”. They were soon inside the rectory, which was only a few yards off. The strange adventure was never afterwards spoken of by my father, nor alluded to in any way. I have often been on the point of questioning him about it, but some vague feeling of alarm always prevented me.

Comment by Josh Edwards on July 15, 2016 at 8:04

I have had a chance to read through the stories. Amyas Northcote's stories are exceptional. Nothing is explained, it is all left to the imagination and, in some cases, you find no explanations. M. R. James, in the television adaptions, has never been dramatized properly. I enjoyed Robert Powell telling the tales, as well as Christopher Lee. The Ash Tree had nothing whatsoever to do with the original story.W. F. Harvey is another who is underrated. The possibilities are here and can be achieved with a small cast.

Comment by Josh Edwards on July 10, 2016 at 5:38

The project is coming along fine. I was speaking last evening to someone about the old show One Step Beyond. She told me that there was an unusual tale about a Welsh actor, Robin Hughes, who did not get posted to his ship, subsequently destroyed by the Germans, during the last war. I think it was called The Prince of Wales. I will see what I can find out about this. By the way, the memories of the power strike during the 1970s were funny.

Comment by Glyndwr Edwards on July 10, 2016 at 3:55

Here is part of what I have written as to the power of remembrance for the intended vocal history recollection, Josh. The other testimonies received are more than I expected. It more than speaks for itself.

My grandmother, Morfydd Edwards, only occasionally spoke of her brother Phillip, his death, and of what occurred in Dinas during the Great War to my father, Emrys Edwards.

She, including the rest of her family, attended the dedication ceremony that took place in the grounds of Bronwydd House for the unveiling of the Cenotaph on Porth Square in 1928. The only time he ever saw her angry was when there was a conversation in the house with neighbours and someone would question why the men had died. She always replied, “They died to protect this country and the same thing would happen again with the men if they were asked.” My father never heard adverse talk characteristic of the revisionist angst of later years while he was growing up in Dinas about the Great War. "The suffering of the survivors was done is silence," he said.

Phillip, like the rest of the men from Dinas and the valleys, including his brother David, joined the army soon after war was declared. His initial training was with the 2nd Battalion, 10th Welch, D Company. Training took place in Rhyl. In a letter dated 27/12/14, he says he is suffering from a severe cold and apologizes for his poor handwriting. His friends from Dinas are with him and he mentions George Price is coming home, so Dai will have a butty to travel with him on the train. This is his third letter, he says, since he came to Rhyl and more should have reached home by now.

My grandmother remembered the tearful farewell the family had on Porth Station as other families saw their sons leaving for their training depots. Phillip left with his regiment for France in 1915. One postcard my grandmother cherished from him had embossed roses on it. A simple message he wrote on the reverse: “How goes it, Morfydd!”

One evening, towards the end of March 1915, my grandmother’s mother, Sarah Davies of Brook Cottage, Appletree, went to the pantry to fetch a cup of milk and she screamed. Standing in front of her was her son Phillip, in full battle dress, his image fading as she started to cry out. William, her husband, ran to her and could make little sense of what she said. When she did tell that she had seen Phil standing in front of her, he told her it must have been a trick of the light. Shaken by what had occurred, they slept badly that night. A week later, a telegram arrived, informing them that their son had been killed in action. The day of the battle was the same day his mother had seen him.

A Death Penny was sent to families in Great Britain for the loss of every soldier in the Great War. Later, the Death Penny that had Phil’s name on it was put into a locked drawer, looked at once by my grandmother's parents, and forgotten about for many years.

Comment by Josh Edwards on July 6, 2016 at 10:24

Thanks. I've been catching up on my reading. Two good books by F.G. Cottam. The Waiting Room and The House of Lost Souls. Original supernatural books that give you much to think about. Original plots and that is saying something. I am surprised they have not been made into films. His Dark Echo will be next when I find a copy.

Comment by Glyndwr Edwards on July 6, 2016 at 2:18

The accounts are beguiling, Josh. You and the others have done good work. I have always said that the intimate words of ordinary people are far more revealing than the dry account of an historian who is only interested in their view point. Events, not spoken of for many years, are still fresh to men and women and have an added poignancy that should never be underestimated. Thanks again. 

Comment by Josh Edwards on June 26, 2016 at 9:26

Cheiro's death in Hollywood was strange to say the least.

Comment by Glyndwr Edwards on June 26, 2016 at 8:26

These are valid points. The Cheiro enigma raises more questions than answers. 

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