Bethan’s Harvest Visit

Bethan Jones, known locally as a witch, lived close to Llyn Ebyr near Llanidloes in Mid Wales during the latter part of the eighteenth century. She earned a living by begging not often refused, as she looked intimidating in every way. One morning at the start of the harvest she called at a farm in the district for some wheat. The farmer’s wife, who was alone, said truthfully that the harvest was only just beginning and the farm’s stock of wheat was very low. “Perhaps Bethan, you could call in a few weeks; we really can not spare any at this time”. While not a refusal it was enough to enrage the witch. She stamped off down the path muttering, at which the farmer’s wife felt very uneasy. When her husband came home she told him of Bethan’s visit. “Will she curse me, do you think?” she asked fearfully. “Why no bach (dear). You did not really refuse her did you now? Do not worry, she will not harm you.” This cheered the wife up considerably, and she put Bethan out of her mind. About a week later the farmer and his wife were on their way to Llanidloes market, when Bethan crossed their path. The farmer spoke to the witch but the wife was very scared and could not speak to her. Drawing her Old Welsh shawl around her the witch went off chuckling. From that day something happened to the farmers wife; she had been well known for her butter and cheese making skills, but now those skills had deserted her. The milk would not churn for her, as hard as she tried. Finally the maidservant had to churn it for her. The family, unaware that someone else was making the butter said it tasted differently. What was even worse was that her cooking skills also vanished. The bread did not rise, the cawl was salty, and the meat tasted half cooked. This made her hysterical and her worried husband told her to take a rest and hand over herd duties to her two young daughters. This she did. Then her health began to fail and she became very depressed and weak. At fifty years of age she showed all the signs of senility. Even the local doctor was baffled by her condition. In despair her husband sought the advice of a wizard who lived in Llanidloes. This wise man came to visit the farmer’s wife, and said she was under a curse. Hearing the story of Bethan’s visit and their subsequent encounter on the road from the worried farmer, he decided to question the woman about Bethan, but all she could say was “I am bewitched” over and over again. The farmer called upon Bethan who refused to admit she had put a spell on his wife. The days went by and the farmer’s wife although now lucid, became weaker and weaker. While she was sitting alone in her kitchen one day one sunny day, a shadow fell across her. It spread and seemed to darken the whole room. “Oh God, death is come to get me”. “No, just old Bethan whose magic is greater than a wizard from Llanidloes” came a snarling voice. “No death for you, woman, by my hand. I am glad my magic worked so well. Farewell, we shall not meet again”. With a horrible chuckle the witch vanished into the air. Later that afternoon the farmer’s wife’s body was found hanging from a beam in her bedroom. That night Bethan left her home, fearing the villagers would surely blame her for the farmer’s wife’s suicide.

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