The rivalry between the landlord of the old Inn and Ol' Tom was legendary, every New Year's Eve since time immemorial the inn was visited by the weirdly clad skeletal horse and its party on the strange journey around the farms and cottages of the valley.

It was New Year's Eve 1860 and Dai was getting himself and Ol' Tom ready for the evening's festivities. Ol' Tom was lovingly taken from his wrappings, teeth grinning and eye sockets staring into space. The skull was reverently bedecked with a white sheet adorned with many coloured rags ribbons and bells. His big glass eyes inserted into their gaping sockets and his huge teeth grinning.

Dai surveyed the rather macabre spectacle of his top hat and evening coat and the dressed skull of the Mari Llwyd in the mirror with pride.
"The boys'll be here soon. Duw we are going to have some sport with Huw".
The landlord of the old inn always 'lost' the annual jolly rhyming contest, so that the boys could have a drink at his expense. But what with that ol' chapel and Huw preaching and denouncing the Mari as witchcraft, Dai thought there was not much chance of that.

The cottage door opened leaving a blast of foggy air.
"Its' bloody cold"
said one of the boys. Time to start the evening festivies.

The lamplit windows of the old inn pierced the dripping fog which hung in the hollow. Guests peering through the gloom strained to see the lantern bobbing down the steps and through the mist. The tension arose when the first pinprick of light came around the corner of the cemetry. The white sheeted, ragged skeleton loomed through the dank greyness, seemingly floating through the soaking mist.

As midnight approached the garish old horse and its' raggledy party approached the barred door of the pub. All was quiet inside, the revellers giggling and others hissing and making signs with their hand for silence. The crowd stared at the door waiting for the first knock of the top hatted master and his ghastly horse...

Dai knocked on the door with his stick, challenging the landlord in Welsh. The villagers listened and stared, hypnotised at the eloquent venom of the verses exchanged between the two - Huw becoming ever more vitriolic. He responded with a particularly malicious verse. There was a sharp intake of breath from the crowd as the sound of hooves galloping around the church and the shreik of a horse echoed through the fog. Simultaneously a gargoyle fell off the side of the building, its' head grinning uselessly at the lighted windows.

The villagers swore that there was only Ol' Tom, Dai and the rest of the party out there. Huw turned white at the horrible sound and opened the door to let in the party. The crowd dispersed shortly afterwards leaving their half filled pots on the tables and the deserted pub fully lighted. The open door left a shaft of lamp light which illuminated the fallen gargoyle.

No one ever solved the disappearance of Huw. Some of the old wags of the village swore they saw him straddled on the old grey mare galloping away through the mist with a horrifying expression on his face. Wild rumours circulated that the horse had spirited Huw away. His last known utterance was a curse, he was never seen again!

Beryl Richards

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