The Christmas Tricks of a Monmouthshire Ghost.
To the Editor of the Bristol Mercury.
Sir, – In my present excursions in this country, ‘Through land of leeks, with Welshmen sped, From Afon gwy to Dewi’s Head,’ I may be enabled to send you some occasional communications if you think proper to find a corner in your Demi Cambrian Paper.
A most extraordinary sensation has been lately excited in the village of Llandoga, midway between Chepstow and Monmouth. “The windows shake, the drawers crack, / Each thinks that Nick’s behind his back, / And hitches to the fire.”
On the 31st Dec. last, the house of Wm. Edwards, formerly a local preacher in the Wesleyan connexion, but now estranged from that society, was beset by some (as it is said) invisible spirit, which so violently disturbed the man and his family, by demolishing his earthen-ware, and breaking his glasses, in such unfriendly and unneighbourly manner, that he was obliged to remove to another house, further up the village, when lo! this crockery-destroying demon pursued his victim to the new residence, and as he had acted on the last day of 1822, so he commenced on the first day of 1823, by kicking the remainder of the perishable furniture down the stairs, and other strange whims, almost too comical for the old gentleman or his imps to enact.
On my passing through this village on Tuesday last, I endeavoured to catch the floating opinions of men’s minds, of which the following is an epitome.
1. Mr Edwards is of opinion that it is the buffetting of satan, on his determination to become a new man, and to enter again into a state of warfare with that enemy of mankind.
2. A native of the diocese of St David’s will have it, that the preacher has sometime or other promised a ghost or sprite to meet it, in order to the discovery of hidden treasure, and that he has omitted, or forgotten his appointment.
3. But some respectable informants there, are convinced that this affair forms a fit sequel to, or a triad with that of Ann Moore, the Tetbury Fasting Imposter, and Scratching Fanny, the Cock-lane Ghost.
An inquiring and well-informed public expects that Mr Edwards will illustrate, if he can, for it certainly is a scandalous imposition of someone, but I will not say who, for fear of mistakes.
Mr Editor, you will please to observe these are not the crudities of Tom Coryate, but of real events occurring in the travels of your old correspondent. THOMAS TICKLE. Jan. 9. 1823.