Spooky Happenings in a Welsh Cottage: Things that Cry Out in the Night.

/ ghostcatcherireland
(Image: View from Pen y Fan © E.Holohan)

Although I write this blog on the unexplained and eerie, I am very much ‘team on the fence’ when it comes to ghosts and the paranormal. I am open to the idea and very accepting of other peoples’ experiences. I believe those who have had these experiences have, on the whole, experienced something they could not explain. Whether their experience was of a ghost or something that can be explained by more natural and scientific causes is another matter and open for debate. I believe that most can be explained by science, even if science cannot yet explain some instances. I hold on to the possibility, however, that a small percentage could be something more eerie. Through this, though, I have never really had an experience myself that I could not adequately explain. That is, until now.

The Cosy Cottage Retreat in Wales

The night in question was one of those nights that leaves you with a shiver down your spine and a story you’ll be telling for years. Picture this: a quaint, charming terraced cottage nestled in the quiet countryside of Wales, the kind of place that feels like a cosy retreat from the hustle and bustle of daily life. My husband Ed and I decided to spend a couple of days here, looking forward to some peace, relaxation and to explore the Welsh hills and valleys of Bannau Brycheiniog (Brecon Beacons). But what we got was something entirely unexpected.

An Unsettling First Night

We arrived at the cottage in the early evening and enjoyed a blissful evening snuggled up in front of a roaring log fire, listening to podcast stories and planning our next day’s adventure up Pen y Fan Mountain.  We soon retired to bed so we could rest well before our energetic plans for the next day.

It was in the early hours of the night when Ed got up to use the bathroom. I was having one of those nights where you just can’t seem to get comfortable, tossing and turning, wrestling with the pillows. Frustrated, I switched the bedside lamp on to rearrange the pillows, taking the chance to do this while Ed was out of the room and wouldn’t be disturbed by the light. As the narrow spiral staircase was right next to the bathroom, I decided to leave the light on to help Ed find his way back without risking a tumble in the dark.

After a time, I was getting sleepy again. I decided to switch the lamp off and settle down, hoping to finally drift off. That’s when it happened.

Through my earplugs, I heard the loud sound of a male crying out. For me to hear it through earplugs, it had to be really quite loud. My heart raced as I immediately thought something had happened to Ed—maybe he’d fallen down those steep, shadowy stairs. I jumped out of bed and rushed to check on him, my mind racing with worry.

To my surprise, Ed was still in the bathroom, perfectly fine and completely unaware of the noise. When he came back to bed, I asked him if he’d made any noises—maybe a yawn or something else that might explain the eerie sound. He hadn’t. He hadn’t heard a thing. I glanced at the clock next to my bed; it was 2:20am.

I felt very spooked by this, so much so that I sent Ed downstairs to investigate the ground floor of the cottage in case an intruder had got in. He inspected it and it was all clear. We listened for any sounds from neighbours or outside, but not a peep. It took me some time, but I finally settled down again and had a fitful night’s sleep.

The next day we tried to figure out what could have caused the sound. Was it a neighbour? An animal outside? Some old building creaks or the boiler acting up? None of these seemed to fit. The more we thought about it, the less sense it made.

(Image: Log fire ©E.Holohan)

A Restless Second Night

The next night, we kept our ears open, listening for any clues that might solve the mystery of that unsettling cry. We listened out for the sound of the building setting, the noise of the toilet flush, and the boiler heating. The neighbours were very quiet once again and apart from a very quiet sound of a local cat, there were few noises outside in this tranquil village. One thought we had was that it might be the sound of the chimney cooling following the fire being put out downstairs. I stayed up a while to listen out for this, but there were no further unusual sounds.

The second night in the cottage I fell to sleep more easily as I was exhausted from our hike up Pen Y Fan. I hoped for a blissful night of solid rest. This was once again not to be the case.

In the night I have a very vivid dream that old, withered crone-like hands with long fingernails were pawing at my chest in the bed. I fought against these hands and cried out for them to go away and for Ed to help me. I managed to wake myself up and I was in a cold sweat. Ed also stirred and I asked if I could put the lamp on for a time so I could calm myself and sleep again. I glanced at the bedside alarm and it was around 2:20am. That sent a shiver down my spine, as it was at a similar time to the eerie cry I had heard the night before.

(Image: Night Hag. Bing AI generated)

It took some time, but I eventually fell asleep and caught some rest. But the next morning I was very pleased to be leaving that cottage once and for all. It’s funny how a place that feels so warm and welcoming during the day can take on an entirely different character in the dead of night. I looked forward to a night in my own peaceful bed again.

Leaving the Cottage with Unanswered Questions

Ed and I every so often would try to come up with different explanations for what I experienced. Was it a hypnagogic hallucination, where I hallucinated the sound of a man crying out as I was falling asleep? I feel that I was still pretty wide awake when it happened, however, having only just switched the light out and settled back into bed. None of the sounds of the building or local area seemed to fit with this sound either.

The withered hand dream, although also frightening, is a bit more explainable. I do suffer on and off with sleep paralysis. Sleep paralysis is a state, during waking up or falling asleep, in which a person is conscious but in a complete state of full-body paralysis. It is common during sleep paralysis for people to have very frightening vivid hallucinations and feelings of an ominous presence. My sleep paralysis usually presents as a vivid hallucination of a dark, ominous figure in my room, approaching the bed. Sometimes it has red eyes, sometimes not. One common hallucination that has seeped into folklore is the belief in the “Old Hag” who sits on the sleeper’s chest and suffocates them. This is believed to be where the term ‘hag-ridden’, to be afflicted by nightmares or anxieties, stems from. I’ve never had a dream of crone-like hands before, so it did unnerve me due to its difference. Was I visited by the “Old Hag” of sleep paralysis that night, or was it something more supernatural within those walls grasping for me in the night?

For now, the cottage holds onto its secrets, and I’m left with a chill that has nothing to do with the cool night air.  I can’t help but wonder about the stories those old walls could tell. Maybe that night, I got a small glimpse into one of them.

References

Leave a comment