Myths & Legends of Llanhilleth

1947

In 1947 Harold Wm Bailey, a teenager living in Llanhilleth, wrote a thesis for Caerleon Teachers Training College.   The college was later to become part of the University of Wales Newport.   His thesis covered the history of Llanhilleth from Roman times, and included an interesting section on the local myths and legends:

             “...the people (of Llanhilleth) until comparatively recent times were very superstitious and their lonely existence coupled with the vivid Celtic imagination (and perhaps, the presence of a large number of public houses per head of population) makes it easy to understand why Llanhilleth came to be regarded as the haunted mountain.”

            His material was gathered by Bailey from several folk-lore sources.   One, was Prophet Edmund Jones, who was for many years pastor of the congregation of Protestant Dissenters at the Ebenezer Chapel, near Pontypool, and lived at 'The Tranch,' nearby.   He wrote and published two books, an Account of the Parish of Aberystruth, printed at Trevecca, and a Relation of Apparitions of Spirits in the County of Monmouth and the Principality of Wales, printed at Newport;   Bailey’s second source book was Wirt Sikes' British Goblins.     Wirt Sykes, (or Sikes) was the American Consul in Cardiff in the 1870s.

Ithel the Giant
This story is taken from  “St. Illtyd’s Church, Llanhilleth”, Archaeologia Cambrensis XXVI, Pages 153-8. Dated 1872, unfortunately the writer was anonymous.

"Ithel and Phillis were two friendly giants who lived in the Parish.   Ithel feeling the need for a dwelling-place set off for Cefn Crib to collect some stones which he carried back in his apron.   On one return journey however, he let fall a load – thus forming the mound which is still to be seen next to the old Parish Church.   Thus, according to legend, did the place take its name and become known as Llanithel while Phillis in like manner gave her name to Caerphilly."

This mound has been researched by various authorities and is generally known to have been a castle.   Stories abound of tunnels running from here to nearby farms. 

‘Peggy’ Evans

The next tale were related to me by a resident of Llanhilleth.    I have been unable to identify the particular  Dr Frost mentioned.   I have names of several who practiced in Llanhilleth, including one who laid a foundation stone at the Institute in 1904.

Some years ago, Dr Frost the new GP of Llanhilleth was relating his urgent wish for a telephone to a local parishioner.   He found it very difficult having to go to the Post Office or the Police Station every time he needed to make a call.   He felt it was even more difficult for his wife, isolated in Wales from her friends and family.  

The parishioner decided it was time the Doctor was told of Peggy Evans.   Apparently there was a young lad who went to work down Llanhilleth pit.   He was there for a few years before losing his leg at age 13.   (Hence the name ‘Peggy.’)   When he recovered, the supervisor found him a new job signalling.   The men organised for him to move about when necessary, but mostly he sat and sent signals around the pit.   This job he did very successfully until he died, aged 42.   Then, according to the parishioner, he started visiting the local doctor, Dr. Reynolds, (Dr Frost’s predecessor).    The Doctor didn’t quite understand the visits at first,   But he later claimed that if ever he was needed urgently at the pit, Peggy Evans would appear in Dr Reynold’s lounge and signal by pulling the thick red bell-rope with the big tassel at the side of the fireplace.   Hence, Dr Reynolds had no need of a telephone.   Dr Frost reportedly only saw Peggy Evans once.

Old Ben

            Dr Frost had been up the mountain to visit a patient.   He usually took his pony Jason, but the roadway was rough and unmade, so he decided to walk up.    As he returned, it was turning dusk and he decided to take a shorter route home.   It was then he came upon a tunnel of tall trees covering the lane.   Inside was black with not a chink of light.   He tried to enter several times, telling himself it was only trees, but he retreated back into daylight.   Suddenly he realised there was a black and white sheep dog standing next to him.   The dog licked his hand and they entered the dark tunnel together.   In the darkness the Doctor felt the dog beneath his hand.   They walked together until the Doctor emerged at the other end.   Looking around, he found he was not fifty yards from Maescynew Farm gate.   A thatcher saw the Doctor, and thought he appeared quite pale and shaken, so offered him a drink and a seat to recover.   The Doctor approached, but looked around for the dog beneath his hand.   Not finding the soft fur, he thought the dog had changed sides.   But there was no dog.      He questioned the Thatcher about the dog. 
             “Oh, that’s old Ben,” said the man.  “He won’t go any further than this.   He only comes this far when he knows the children are afraid.”     They chatted for a while, the Doctor being a little upset at being compared to a child.   When the Thatcher felt Dr Frost had recovered sufficiently from his scare, he explained that Ben had died at the age of sixteen, three years earlier. 

The Railway Man

This tale was told to me a few years ago by a well-known local resident who sadly died in 2011.

            (This happened almost within living memory, so no names), "a railway worker approached and held a conversation with his colleagues, who knew him well.   They carried on with their lunch break and he left with a cheery word and a wave.    But later, according to others, he had been killed a few hours earlier in a tragic train accident further down the line."