y Twmpath (welsh)
The Mound in English,
It was called, in the old tongue,”y Twmpath”
Welsh for The mound
The area known as ”y Twmpath” was not really a mound, actually more of a small bald mountain that overlooked a wide valley.
”y Twmpath” had always been as void of any type of vegetation as that valley below was lush and green with.
The ancient ones, Druid Wisemen, used it for their most important ceremonies but only during the daylight for ”y Twmpath” became " strong in voice" as twilight came with the rising moon. So at nightfall, those ceremonial rituals were performed at ”y Twmpath’s” feet.
Through those early times, the area saw many different invaders who took over the valley. Driving away the Druid elders, they ignored their warnings and attempted to conquer the hill.
Various outposts were built by these newcomers to have an overlook over the valley.
And one by one those outposts were destroyed in a chillingly similar manner.
Soon after one of these outposts was finished and occupied ….Always around the time Calan Gaeaf or Sauin (The roots of which Halloween is derived)…
Dark clouds would amass and swirl around the mountain, and in the night, unleash terrifying lightning storms that seemed to roll down from ”y Twmpath’s” and wrack carnage to the valley below.
With the light of day, as the valley occupants emerged to survey the damage, they would discover that whatever structure had been built upon” y Twmpath” was gone, along with any man who had been garrisoned there.
Then, In an attempt to consecrate and make holy the ”y Twmpath” a group of missionary priests built a brick chapel on a small ridge located halfway up the mountain. It lasted for two years before the discovery was made one morning by superstitious villagers that the chapel had been deserted. Further exploration of ”y Twmpath”, in full daylight, discovered the bodies of the missionary priests laid out in a circle at the top of the hill. A crucifix from the chapel plunged upside down in the Centre.
No one dared to build another structure upon it after that…
So these were the legends that made their way to more modern days when sayings like “beyond the pale” became meaningless with electricity and the Telegraph.
And though the legends were told, and scoffed at, the small village in the valley below grew into a large city, that surrounded ”y Twmpath” seemingly giving a wide berth around the small mountain.
Then in 1888 one of the city’s richest men, A heralded Lord, Eric Macmillan, who was a widower with two children, took a much younger lass as his new bride. A wealthy American lady with grand ideas and plans.
She would not settle for a mansion in the city. Her abode had to be above all the others.
Literally….
Without heeding the warnings, she had her lovestruck husband build a stone house upon ”y Twmpath” as to overlook the valley. As a Queen would overlook her peasants.
The great house was built within 3 years without issue. And many believed that the old tales about ”y Twmpath” were merely children’s Nursury tales to keep young ones from exploring the dark shadowy mountain.
It was early spring when the mansion was completed. A great stone structure with looming towers and arched windows and doorways. Upon ”y Twmpath’s” bald top it stood out with a quite ominous presence.
The small family soon were moved in. The wealthy Lord, his wife, and the two children. A boy of 12 and a girl of 10. Along with 2 servants.
The house actually needed more than 2 servants to keep it, but no locals would dare venture there, and the 2 that did take the job were the only ones from out of town that answered the advertisement.
Not much was seen of the family after they moved in. Just the pair of servants when they came to town to pick up supplies that no one else would deliver.
Spring turned to summer, summer turned to autumn and late autumn turned to conversations among the locals, starting in the pubs, that no one could remember the last time the servants from the manor on ”y Twmpath” had been seen.
They would stare up at the house as darkness fell, and noticed that no lights were lit.
“Should someone go up and check?” We’re the questions asked. But no one dared to go there at night. So it was decided the local constables would be told to go up in the light of day to see what was going on.
But later that very evening dark clouds the likes of which had never been seen in the local’s memory began forming and lightning began to streak and crash all around as a driving rain pelted down.
The villagers took cover until the dawn when the storm finally subsided. As the city's occupants emerged and accessed the damage, they looked up at ”y Twmpath”. The stone manor still stood, despite the legends. But nothing, absolutely nothing, appeared to be alive in or around it.
It was not until two days later the pair of local constables were able to leave and check up on the stone mansions' occupants.
They left after lunch, with a herd of locals leaving the pubs to follow in their wake
The gawkers were made to stay out at the foot of ”y Twmpath”. As the constables went up on foot along the winding road and path of stone stairs that stretched almost a full Kilometer up to the stone manor.
Two hours later the constables came back down, visibly shaken. They went to the nearest pub and ordered whisky. The waiting gawkers had followed and filled the pub, surrounding the pair of officials while demanding to know what was all found?
“Nothing….” They both answered as they then downed their drinks and looked around the room before continuing…
“No sign of anything living, or having lived there for some weeks. Though the whole time we were there, both of us felt were being watched and heard sounds behind us as if being followed.”
The other constable chimed in…
“But when we turned around, nothing was there, was it. And when we called out, only our echoes in the hallways answered us back. Job doesn’t pay enough for us to stay there. Let the Yard Detectives figure this one out.”
Detectives did come and scoured the house and property, including the remains of the old stone church.
Only 3 clues were found. None of them really afforded an explanation to what had taken place.
Clue 1: A child’s doll found in the church ruins. Dry as a bone-like it had very recently been set there.
Clue 2: in the nursery, on a drawing board a child’s picture lay upon it. Drawn in crayon the picture was remarkably a well-done likeness depicting the front of the manor house. Above the manor were dark clouds and lightening down with finger paint, from a small hand. The paint was still damp!?
Clue 3: Suitcases of clothing belonging to the occupants were piled in the foyer. The Constables both swore they had not seen anything of the sort when they were there.
As the months passed nothing more was learned of the fate of the Macmillan family and their two servants.
To keep curious from coming onto the property, a caretaker/watchman was hired by the propertys' solicitor.
Though the caretaker refused to stay anywhere near the house at night. He built a small cottage next to the ruined church, using it’s’ remaining stones.
And so it remained, empty and put out of mind.
For nearly 35 years no one dared to go to the Macmillan Manor on desolate y Twmpath after dark.
Then during October 1931…as the country was still embroiled in the “great slump”, one person, a young man, finally did.
This ends the first part of this story.
The second part is his to tell
