In many of the Welsh Ghost Stories, the spirit or ghost was supposed to have been none other than the evil one himself.
The visible appearance of his satanic majesty was quite as common in Wales as in other countries, though, strange to say, he is often depicted as an inferior in cunning and intellect to a shrewd old woman, or a bright-witted Welshman, as the following two curious stories show:—
THE LEGEND OF THE DEVIL’S BRIDGE IN CARDIGANSHIRE.
The Devil’s Bridge in the northern part of Cardiganshire is so called from the tradition that it was erected by him upon the condition that the first thing that passed over it should be his. The story which is well-known is something as follows:
An old woman called Megan Llandunach had lost her cow, and espied the animal across the gorge. When bewailing her fate, the Devil appeared and promised to build her a bridge over the gorge under the condition that the first living thing which crossed should be surrendered into his hand, “and be beyond redemption lost.” Megan agreed, the bridge was completed; she took from her pocket a crust of bread and threw it over the bridge, and her hungry dog sprang after it. So the Devil was balked in his design after all his trouble in erecting the bridge.
PENTRE-CWRT FOLK AND THE DEVIL.
Once upon a time the devil was offended with the people of Pentre-Cwrt, in Carmarthenshire, and decided to drown them. One day in order to do this mischief the Evil One was seen going along with a big shovelful of mound; and when he came to the parish of Llandyssul in Cardiganshire, which was only about two miles from Pentre-Cwrt, he met with a cobbler who carried a very large bundle of old shoes. After saluting the devil the cobbler asked him to where did he intend taking the shovelful of mound? “To the mouth of Alltcafan,” was the reply. “For what purpose?” asked the cobbler again. “To dam the River Teivy so as to drown the people of Pentre-Cwrt,” said the devil. Now the cobbler was a very shrewd man, and in order to frustrate the evil design of the Old Gentleman, he told him that the place where he intended to dam the river was very far away. “How far is it?” asked the devil. “I cannot tell you the exact distance,” replied the cobbler, “but in walking from there I have worn out all these shoes.” “If that is so,” said the devil, “it is too far, for I am already tired,” and down did he throw the shovelful of mould, and the shovelful which the devil threw down is to be seen to this day, and known as Cnwc Coedfoel.—See Hanes Plwyf Llangeler, gan D. Jones.
