Noone takes me seriously when I tell them this, but I was staying in a fancy hotel a few years ago. It was one of these hotels with a grand staircase. Anyway, I came into the lobby late one night, and as I was walking up the staircase, I saw what appeared to be a triceratops go past me. I near [censored] myself.
Another time, I was staying in an old cottage in a town in Wales called Llangollen. One evening while I was walking my dog up this big hill covered in trees, I heard a strange noise sort of like an old gate creaking followed by the rattle of a chain. I looked around, and there appeared to be nothing that could be making this noise. My dog started to bark and whine, and the noise seemed to get louder in response. It seemed unusual at the time, but I didn't think much about it.
Later that evening I was bored and started looking through some old books in the cottage, and came across the following story:
The Barber of Llangollen
The tale of the Barber of Llangollen starts in what is now the garden of the Hand Hotel and ends on the top of Moel y Geraint, one of the hills that rise above the town. The story tells of how the hill acquired another name, which is still in use today.
Over 250 years ago there was a row of small houses on the site of the Hand Hotel garden. In one of them lived the Barber. He was also the Schoolmaster of the village and was apparently an irritable character. One day, in a dispute between himself and his wife about the boiling or roasting of a neck of mutton, he drew his razor across her throat and killed her. He ran out and shut the door. The schoolchildren did not know what was the matter, but seeing their Mistress bleeding and staggering ran out and told their neighbours.
The barber ran up the street and turned up Cross Lane. This now leads up to the A5 road, but 250 years ago it ended in open fields, across which the barber ran. A lot of men were mustered and followed him across the fields to the old Workhouse. The men caught him washing himself at Pistyll y Workhouse – the Spring of the Workhouse. The barber was condemned to be gibbeted on the nearest hill overlooking the town of Llangollen. At the gib, he was regaled with a pint of ale, and seeing people and children running and climbing up the Geraint, he turned to them and said in Welsh 'You need not hurry, there will be no sport until I am there.' The story goes that a Mrs. Parry, the landlady at the Hand, gave him a jug of ale as he was passing.
He was hung in Gibbets at the top of the Hill and ever since the hill has been known as 'Moel y Barbwr', or 'The Barber’s Hill'.
This is a true story and is recorded in documents at the Record Office. The barbers name was Thomas Edwards and that of his unlucky wife Maria. The murder took place in 1739 and the tale has now become local folklore.
top of pag
- source: www.llangollenmuseum.org.uk
If I had heard this story before going up the hill, I probably would've attributed the noise as simply being my mind playing tricks on me... sort of like how people who know about the loch ness monster see ripples in the water as something else when they visit loch ness. But reading the story afterwards creeped me out a little.