Monday, 1 December 2025

Iolo Morgannwg





Iolo Morgannwg might have looked something like this  as he wandered around Wales looking for ancient manuscripts, bits of folklore, songs and poems.  Did he smile much?  Not sure of that -- he is generally portrayed as a rather serious fellow........

Iolo Morganwg (Edward Williams) was a complex figure in reality -- often described as both a genius and a forger.  He was  labelled a "charlatan" by some scholars after his death.  His legacy is heavily debated, but most historians acknowledges his widespread fabrications, while also recognizing his immense positive impact on Welsh culture and national identity. 

Iolo, as a young man, was a stonemason and a farmer, and he spent some time in London.  He wandered all over Wales, and was not in his lifetime either wealthy or particularly famous.  Indeed, in 1786-87  he spent some time in the debtor's prison in Cardiff because of the failure of his stonemasonry business.  He owed  somebody £3.........  So to those whom he encountered on his travels he must have appeared as a very strange fellow, more like a vagrant or tramp than a pillar of the cultural establishment.........

Iolo was largely self-taught.  But he created numerous manuscripts and poems which he presented as ancient Welsh works, purportedly from the medieval period, but which were entirely his own work.  He invented the Gorsedd of the Bards and its associated rituals, presenting them as ancient Druidic traditions that had survived Roman times.  He created a supposed "Bardic Alphabet" (Coelbren y Beirdd) which had no basis in historical or archaeological fact.

The extent of his forgeries was not widely known during his lifetime; it was later scholars in the late 19th and early 20th centuries who exposed them  -- and also acknowledged that some of them were really rather wonderful.

Despite the forgeries, Iolo provided the Welsh people with a crucial cultural re-awakening when it was most needed, effectively becoming one of the main architects of modern Welsh national identity.  The institutions he established, such as the Gorsedd (which is now an integral part of the annual National Eisteddfod festival), have endured and become important parts of Welsh life.  He was a genuinely talented poet, a radical political thinker (advocating for the rights of man, opposing slavery), a pioneer of the Unitarian movement in Wales, and a serious antiquarian who collected many genuine manuscripts alongside his forgeries.

His motivations?  Well, they were largely patriotic and local, aiming to elevate the reputation of Welsh language and culture, rather than for personal gain. Some theories also suggest his addiction to laudanum may have blurred the lines between fact and fiction in his mind.

Since he lived at the time that our imaginary heroine walked this earth, we had to incorporate him into our story.  He died in 1826 at the age of 79.  When he meets Martha in Ch 7 of  "Sacrifice" I have imagined him as a strange fellow, highly strung, very intelligent, and capable of offering sound advice to a troubled woman.  Above all else, he knows all about the Welsh triads.......



Wednesday, 26 November 2025

The Emperor of China

 


Here he is, splendidly imagined by Steve, using AI technology.  The Emperor of China, one of the most exotic and eccentric characters in the whole of the Angel Mountain narrative.  In the pages of "Guardian Angel" Martha gives him a bit of help, and he reciprocates.........

His name was John Wylde, and he really did exist.   His celestial empire extended for a few acres in the district called Pontystorehouse -- right in the midst of the industrial mayhem of 1840's Merthyr Tydfil. This fine fellow was at the top of the criminal pyramid, ruling over an assortment of thieves, thugs, prostitutes and pimps -- some were referred to as Rodneys, Nymphs and Bullies. His place of residence was excavated out of the Bethesda Cinder Tip, one of the more stable ash heaps adjacent to the Cyfartha iron works. He and his Empress lived in considerable style, surrounded by stolen goods, and "China" was effectively beyond the reach of the law.  Around 1500 people lived on and in the slag tips of the iron town, in incredibly primitive conditions. Truth or mythology? Who cares? Anyway, I could not resist pulling him into the narrative and playing a role in the adventures of our heroine Martha Morgan.........

More on the Empire of China and its colourful Emperor

 


Further to my earlier posts on this topic (in association with the Merthyr Tydfil section of "Guardian Angel") there is an interesting blog post here:

http://upsetvictorians.blogspot.com/2018/10/the-true-origin-of-china-nickname-for.html

It provides some interesting new info about the origin of the "China" name.  

Anthony Rhys says:  Most recently Joe England's excellent new book 'Merthyr: The Crucible of Modern Wales', says:  'Where the name China came from is unknown but it probably came from an imaginative journalist who saw the district as mysterious and dangerous. From the early 1840's Britain was involved in 'Opium Wars' with China.'   Keith Strange says as the Victorians became aware of the real country's 'strange culture and customs' they named another 'alien' society, namely Merthyr's underworld, after the same thing.

However, the new suggestion by Anthony Rhys is that the name came from an enthusiastic but unsuccessful Wesleyan "mission".  The Pontystorehouse hotbed of crime and prostitution was so notorious in the 1840's and 1850's that there were major campaigns by upright citizens to alert the inhabitants of the troglodite community as to the error of their ways, and to listen to the word of the Lord.  One of the leaders of this movement, one Walter Watkins, was a staunch Methodist and teetotaller, who frequently preached fiery sermons at the arch which led into the area of old slag heaps and ash dumps called "The Cellars". He was known as "Father Watkins" -- and he previously owned the Canton Tea house on Marthyr's High Street. He was a strict advocate of temperence, and preached that people should drink tea rather than alcohol. At that time tea was probably too expensive to be drunk by the prostitutes and bullies of the target community -- but all the tea for sale at that time came from China.

Walter Watkins eventually gave up on his campaign in despair, but as a joke the Cellars were re-named "Little China" 1843 and eventually became just "China", with the most powerful man in the locality taking the title of the Celestial Emperor.  At one time the Emperor was Benjamin Richards, alias Benny Blackstone, who was just 28 years old.  But the name I have built into the "Guardian Angel" episode was John Wylde, as a result of information gathered from Keith Strange's book.

I can well imagine that over a period of twenty years or more, there were crimninal power struggles within the Celestial Empire, as a result of which Emperors came and went with alarming frequency.  After 1850, conditions seem to have improved, and crime reduced, as indicated in Olivia Marsh's dissertation.

See also:

Olivia Marsh dissertation:


Keith Strange, ‘In Search of the Celestial Empire’, Llafur, 3.1 (1980), pp. 44 - 45



The Pontystorehouse shop around 1890 -- the arch on the left was reputed to be one of the
entrances to China.

The Mysteries of Ceridwen




Sometimes I am quite impressed by the capacity of AI to distill the essence of something from a wide variety of sources.  This is what it says about the rather nasty secret society that causes mayhem in the pages of "Sacrifice".  It has got things pretty well spot on!!  In particular, it has picked up on the difficulty I had as an author in deciding on the limits of graphic descriptions of horrific events.........

===============

In Brian John's novel Sacrifice, the "Mysteries of Ceridwen" is the name of a depraved and violent secret society that targets the heroine, Martha Morgan. The society is a central element of the book's plot and represents the extreme evil Martha must confront.


Role in the Novel SacrificeAntagonists
The "Mysteries of Ceridwen" is the main antagonist group in the novel. Its members are described as four "sinister men" who call themselves surveyors and are responsible for a "campaign of retribution".

Motivations and Actions
The society is driven by ancient family animosities and targets specific individuals with grotesque methods. The violence begins with a shepherd being ambushed and having three stripes carved across his chest. Martha Morgan, the main character, is the prime target on their hit list.

Depravity
The novel is considered the "darkest tale" in the Angel Mountain Saga due to the explicit exploration of the society's depravity and violence, with the author having to make careful judgments on the boundary of acceptable graphic descriptions.

Comparison to other Secret Societies
The "Mysteries of Ceridwen" is presented as a "secret society" similar to others of the time, such as the Society of Sea Serjeants or the Freemasons, but is described as particularly depraved and criminal in its activities, including potentially hiring assassins. 


Mythological Context

The name "Ceridwen" comes from Welsh mythology. She is a powerful enchantress connected with a cauldron of wisdom and poetic inspiration (Awen). The mythological story includes: 

The Cauldron: Ceridwen brews a magic potion in her cauldron, intended to grant wisdom.

Gwion Bach: A servant boy named Gwion Bach accidentally receives the first three magical drops and, realizing the danger, flees.

The Pursuit and Rebirth: Ceridwen pursues Gwion Bach through various transformations. She swallows him when he is a grain of wheat and she is a hen.

Taliesin: She later gives birth to the boy, who becomes the legendary bard Taliesin.

Brian John likely uses "The Mysteries of Ceridwen" to add dark, ancient Welsh folklore to the gang's activities. This contrasts the mythological Ceridwen's pursuit of wisdom with the gang's pursuit of violent retribution and depravity.

Thursday, 13 November 2025

Anniversary Tea Party coming up........

 


It's 25 years since the launch of the Angel Mountain Saga and the first appearance of Martha Morgan on the literary scene.........

To celebrate this auspicious event, and the sale of around 150,000 books in various formats, we are organizing an afternoon tea party in the Garden Room of the Memorial Hall in Newport, on Sunday 7th December.  Everybody welcome!  It will be an opportunity to meet old friends and for me as the writer and publisher to thank everybody who has helped to turn the Saga into a "self-publishing phenonmenon" -- and to announce some interesting developments........

Since the 8 books of the Saga have a powerful sense of place, with the Plas Ingli estate (house and home) at the very centre of things, I thought it would be good to spare a moment to think of those who are homeless nin our own country.  So although admission to the event is free, there will be an opportunity to donate, if you wish, to Shelter, the homeless charity.

Looking forward to seeing you!

Brian

Tuesday, 4 November 2025

The matter of Wales: the St David's Accord



Between 2016 and 2018 we had a series of networking meetings in St Davids and elsewhere that were designed to identify a "characterisation" of Wales, for the purposes of tourism marketing and the guidance of civil servants and politicians who see the promotion of Welsh language and culture as key political objectives.  These were linked into a talk I gave in January 2017 as part of the Oeriel y Parc lecture programme:


The initial meeting was in 2016 at Oriel y Parc, with the support and involvement of Jonathan Jones, Gwyneth Hayward, Bishop Wyn Evans, Ian Panton, Rod Williams and many others.

The discussion was quite well constructed, with all participants asked to write down five keywords and to contribute creatively.  We then tried to assess which keywords were most commonly proposed, and went through a process of elimination and refinement in an interesting and good humoured dabate. 

After much deliberation over a period of three years, this is what we came up with as a representation of Welsh national identity:

"Wales is a small country on the Celtic fringe of Europe with magnificent landscapes and rich natural resources. It is too close to England to have remained truly independent, and not far enough away for bloody rebellions ever to have succeeded.  Throughout its history it has fought to resist the depredations of powerful neighbours; and against all the odds it has retained its language, its culture and its pride whilst encouraging toleration and liberal values and adapting to dramatic change. It has learned how to be subversive and seductive, and how to be spiritual and mischievous at the same time. In its history it has not suffered the same deep traumas as Scotland and Ireland. Its people are romantics, prone to wild swings of emotion; both melancholia and euphoria feature in the national psyche. Welsh people have a powerful "sense of place" and an abiding fondness for family histories, legends, ceremonial and ancient traditions. Eccentricity is embraced, while great value is placed upon learning. There is a tendency towards radical protest and an ever-present desire for social reform. Ultimately, Wales wants the respect of others -- and to be left in peace to enjoy and endure its own strange obsessions.

The process -- initially hosted by Oriel y Parc -- was all very informal, with no official involvement and no status whatsoever, but just for fun let's call it "The St Davids Accord"............




I have always seen the Angel Mountain saga as an allegory, with all of those themes built into the narrative and into the character of Martha Morgan, her angels and even her enemies.........

Martha could not possibly have been Irish, Scottish or English. So let's celebrate that as we read and discuss the Angel Mountain novels.  Let's hope we can celebrate it again as we watch the big TV serialised drama that is bound to come!

Sunday, 2 November 2025

The Angel Mountain Show -- the seven lockdown video chats



THE ANGEL MOUNTAIN SHOW SERIES ONE, April 2020


This series of informal chats was first broadcast in April 2020, at the height of the pandemic lockdown. They were designed to give fans of the series some background information on the narrative and the creative process. I put them initially onto Facebook, where quite a few people looked at them..  Then I put them  onto YouTube, and they are still there, so they can be accessed by everybody. They are a bit rough and ready, and clearly need editing, but anyway, enjoy!!

===============

No 1: Preamble
https://youtu.be/Yb75Gp_0BH4

No 2: A funny thing happened…….
https://youtu.be/dZ8swgE1HLw

No 3: Martha’s Magic
https://youtu.be/2qNHvnTpV3o

No 4: Martha and the Angels
https://youtu.be/D_Ih26sjbVg

No 5: Heroes and Villains
https://youtu.be/_UcrxdnlaE0

No 6: Eccentrics rule, OK?
https://youtu.be/18n-IC6AoAA

No 7: A Very Imperfect Heroine
https://youtu.be/ngXnaCJROQg
















Q and A updated


This is an updated version of a post first published in 2011.  My answers to questions that are frequently asked.


Why did you suddenly decide to write a novel after many years of writing non-fiction?


This may sound spooky, but the decision was made for me. I had no thoughts of writing a novel when my wife and myself travelled to Gran Canaria on holiday in 1999. I picked up some strange bug on the plane, and even before we arrived at Las Palmas I felt terrible, with a high temperature and other flu-like symptoms. As soon as we arrived at the apartment I went to bed, and I spent the night wide awake, sweating profusely and with a splitting headache. I think I was delirious, but during the hours of darkness the story of a young woman of the regency / Victorial period came into my head. Places, characters, names, story-lines, details of the plot and even details of conversations -- they were all there. In the morning I felt better, and everything was still present inside my head. I told my wife about this strange experoience, and her instinctive response was “Well, you’d better start writing!” So I did. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before or since, and I still feel that the story of Martha Morgan was handed to me as a gift. It would have been churlish if I had not done something with it. If nothing else, I now know what the term “feverish imagination” actually means.

That explains one novel -- but EIGHT? When did the simple story turn into a Saga?

It was probably inevitable from the beginning. In On Angel Mountain I wrote what had to be written, but still I covered only a year of the young heroine’s life. I knew even then that there was almost another half century of Martha’s life to write about -- it was all there, inside my head. If the public had not responded enthusiastically about the book, that material would never have been written down. So in response to the pleading of my readers I decided to keep going, and the idea of a Saga of multiple volumes was born. Early in 2002 I set myself the target of writing, publishing and selling one volume a year for five years. Somehow or other I managed to hit that target -- but without the massive support and encouragement of my readership I don’t think I could have found the motivation or the stamina to complete all five! Then, with Martha in her grave (or was she?) people kept on asking me for more -- so after a break the last two novels were written, also very quickly.   Now there are eight books............. and who knows where it will all end?

Why did you decide on a diary format for the books?

When the story came to me it was all about the diary of a long-lost woman -- its discovery and its contants. The bulk of the story had to be told through diary entries if I was to be true to the “gift” given to me in that strange delirious episode. That made me very apprehensive, since I know that very few successful novels have been written as diaries. But having started to write On Angel Mountain I discovered that there were many advantages to the diary format; for example, some entries can be short and others long, and if the “diarist” has nothing exciting to report, there can be gaps of months or even years. People seem to like relatively short entries with frequent breaks; it makes the phyisical process of reading easier. What is more, there is a great immediacy about diary entries. Things can happen very suddenly without prior warning. And diary entries can easily reflect changes in the heroine’s mood or in her opinions from one day to the next. Human beings are like that, especially if they are as impulsive and wilful as Mistress Martha! One has to resist the temptation to analyse motives and to prepare the ground for forthcoming events, and there is no room for lengthy sermonizing or moralizing. That’s fine by me, since some books (for example Hardy’s Tess) have too muuch of the author and too little of the heroine in them. The biggest problem with a diary is that Martha cannot, anywhere in its pages, describe herself -- readers have to get to know her through her reporting of what other people say about her, or simply through the way in which she describes conversations and events.

Wasn’t it risky for you, as a man approaching retirement, to presume to speak as a pregnant, suicidal young woman from another age?

Very risky indeed. But I had to do it, since that’s the way the story came to me. So I swallowed hard and had to get on with it, for better or worse. Luckily I seem to have got away with it, and many female readers have complimented me on the accuracy with which I have portrayed female moods and instincts. Maybe that’s the female side of me coming out, or maybe it’s down to accurate observation of women over a long period of time! But here I have to thank my wife Inger, who has been my chief critic and consultant on the female psyche. She reads everything as soon as it is written, and does not hesitate to put me right on misjudgements large and small, and indeed on all things feminine. I have to admit to some difficulties in writing the most intimate and erotic scenes in the five books, and also in describing a miscarriage as experienced by Martha herself. No man can really understand the emotional turmoil and physical anguish involved.



  
Where did Mistress Martha come from?

I really have no idea. I am as mystified by the creative process as anybody else. When the story of this feisty and imperfect heroine came into my head during a bout of high fever in 1999, she seemed to me to be ready-formed and in need of no manufacturing on my part. I saw myself as an artist creating a portrait of a model sitting (not very quietly) in front of me -- my task was to create a picture of her in words, hoping that my portrait might capture the essence of her character. I have known a lot of strong female characters -- my mother, two sisters, my wife, and many female friends -- maybe Mistress Martha owes something to all of them. She takes no orders from anybody, and on many occasions during the writing of the five books I have wanted her to do something and she has refused to cooperate. I know now why writers often say that their characters “take over” and dictate the development of the story. In retrospect, my heroine has always been right, and has refused to do anything which might be out of character.

Did you intend Martha to be a classic tragic heroine?

Again, I did not have to work at this. It was clear to me right from the beginning that as she travels through a long and exciting life she trails disaster in her wake. Her beauty is the source of her strength and also her curse, and as she survives one terrifying episode after another she loves and loses not just one good man but five. Many of her enemies love her too, or at least lust after her. In some ways she is naive about her own power over men; but her friends and family see it perfectly well, and do their best to warn her and protect her. There is an inexorable momentum in Martha’s tragedy. In some way it is surprising that she survives into her seventies, but it must be clear to all the readers of the Saga that Martha will not die in her bed. Nor does she......

Many readers have remarked that Mistress Martha is really “Mother Wales.” Have you set out to encourage that belief?

When I wrote On Angel Mountain I was simply intent upon writing a rattling good story with believable characters and enough twists and turns in the plot to keep readers happy. Young Martha Morgan was my heroine, but I had no plan to develop her as an iconic figure. Then a good friend read the novel and asked me whether I had modelled Martha on Chris Guthrie in Grassic Gibbons’ Sunset Song.
I had not even heard of that novel or its author. But I went off and read all three novels in A Scots Quair, and was bowled over by them. I can quite understand why Chris Guthrie is viewed by many students of Scottish literature as Mother Scotland. But she is a victim, and Martha Morgan is anything but a victim. I have not tried to manufacture her character, but I have tried to bring out different aspects of it in the five novels of the Saga. Maybe she does embody all that is best and worst about Wales. On the one hand she is beautiful, passionate, feisty, strong-willed and fiercely loyal and protective of those whom she loves. On the other hand she is prone to introspection and even deep depression and paranoia. At times she becomes arrogant and manipulative. She cannot keep her nose out of other peoples’ business, and becomes involved in great campaigns which can only lead her into trouble. But she hates injustice and suffering, and is prepared to take huge risks in the rightings of wrongs. She has an almost mystical relationship with the landscape in which she lives and the house which gives her shelter. She belongs to Carningli, and the mountain belongs to her. She is also proudly Welsh and refuses to submit to any authority which she does not respect. If that makes her Mother Wales, so be it!

There are many supernatural episodes in the stories. Are you cashing in on the Harry Potter / magic mania?

Absolutely not. When Mistress Martha “came to me” during my strange feverish episode, I knew immediately that she had to have special powers, and that premonitions and supernatural phenomena would figure strongly in the development of the story. I also knew that Joseph Harries Werndew had to be in the stories as Martha’s mentor and friend; he really did exist, and he really was a wizard, although after much research I still know virtually nothing about what he was like as a person. It seemed important to me to flag up the naive belief in supernatural events that existed in rural Wales around the year 1800. I also wanted to show how wizards and witches were not just tolerated but often respected as healers, herbalists, sleuths and amateur psychiatrists in the days before Charles Darwin and the development of modern science. The idea of “the knowing one” is very important in the Welsh folk-tale tradition, and I wanted to remind readers of that fact.

What about symbols in the stories? Some readers say they see them everywhere!

Yes, there are many symbols in the books, although I have tried not to cram in so many as to make the stories into allegories or parables. Because Martha feels so strongly that she is a part of the landscape of Carningli, and that the landscape is a part of her, it is natural that the mountain itself should be her “cathedral” -- a sacred place, a great monument to the glory of God, and the place where she can find peace. The cave is an obvious symbol too -- it is dark and secret and enetered via a narrow slit in the rock face. That is Martha’s ultimate hiding place, where she can curl up like an embryo and escape from all that threatens to overwhelm her outside in the wicked world. It is found by others but defiled only once, by Moses Lloyd at the climax of the first novel. Ffynnon Brynach provides water for the Plas and is a place of anointment and cleansing; the kitchen table in the Plas kitchen is a sort of altar; Martha’s servants and family are the angels who protect her at the Plas, and the ravens are the angels who protect her on the mountain; the grove in Tycanol Wood, where Martha makes love with a number of different men during her long life, is sacred and profane, and a place of ecstasy and terror; Bessie is Martha’s conscience; Jones Minor Prophet is a Christ-like figure, too good to be allowed to survive. Some have seen symbolism in dates and numbers -- there may be symbols there, quite unbeknown to me.............




How would you summarize the themes of the eight novels?

The Saga as a whole is about resilience, love and honour, and about the ability of the human spirit to conquer brutality, betrayal and all manner of other evils. Mistress Martha is no paragon of virtue, but I hope that she is close enough to “everyman” and “everywoman” to give comfort and inspiration to at least some of my readers. Part One is about a naive and frightened young woman who learns -- the hard way -- how to survive when she is confronted by monstrous wickedness. Part Two (the most complex of the five novels) is about Martha’s recognition of her own strength and about taking responsibility for the righting of wrongs; it is also about the dangers of arrogance and manipulation. Part Three (a much darker and more introverted novel) is about loss, insecurity, mistrust and paranoia. Part Four is about Martha in middle age, deciding to use her talents to try and make the world a better place. And Part Five is about the dilemmas of old age, with Martha trying to live life to the full, and give her love to others, while confronting the inevitability of death. Part Six is a sort of ecological parable -- it's the closest I come to telling a fairy story! And Part Seven is very dark and brutal -- it is more of a thriller than the other stories, and some of the contents are shocking. Part Eight is a counterbalance, and we see the best side of Martha's character as she seeks redemption and forgiveness for her sins.Although many deaths and many brutal incidents are described in the pages of the novels, I see them as ultimately optimistic, and about the triumph of good over evil.
  
Why have you now killed off Mistress Martha, in defiance of the old rule “never kill off a good character”?

I am by no means fed up with her, and indeed I now know her so well that she is almost a part of the family.  Some years ago I was afraid that with a sixth book, or a seventh or eighth, I might have had nothing new to say about her. I had dealt with five phases of her life and with many different aspects of her character. Even if I still had some “unused episodes” of her life story in my head, I was more than a little afraid that in a new book I would be going over old ground and becoming repetitive. On Angel Mountain was popular because the characters, the period and the context were all fresh and new to readers, and therefore exciting. With every successive book that excitement is increasingly difficult to recapture, because the reader who has been with me from the beginning is familiar with almost everything to do with Martha’s life. He or she is also familiar with my writing style and with the “conventions” of the books, such as the episodes in which each successive diary is discovered and translated. So I was worried -- but I need not have worried too much, and I found that there are still new things to say about Mistress Martha. That having been said, there are still a number of long episodes in Martha’s life which have not, as yet, been covered !

One major novel per year for the saga was a very ambitious schedule. Do you write very quickly?

Yes, I do. I work straight onto the computer, banging away with two fingers, making lots of mistakes, and correcting as I go along. If I am working on a difficult passage I may keep going for twelve hours or more, with very few breaks; but I do seem to have the knack of getting away from writing for days -- or sometimes weeks -- and then picking up again where I left off. The critical thing is to keep the creative process going inside my head even when I am gardening or travelling or doing building work......... My greatest output in one day was about 11,000 words, but a more average output would be around 4,000 words.  On Angel Mountain took me about eighteen months to write, but the other books were written much more quickly -- in about four months each. I wrote Sacrifice in two months flat.   Towards the end of the sequence I knew all of my characters very well, and there was much greater efficiency in my research and plot development as well.

You mention research -- how much research and preparation goes into the books?

A considerable amount. Because I am writing historical fiction I have to get the social history -- and all sorts of other things -- right. For example, I have had to study folk traditions, the events of the farming calendar, beliefs, political issues of the day, the details of women’s clothing, and the timing of great events on the world stage. If you get anything wrong in historical fiction, you can be sure that somebody will jump on you from a great height! Luckily I have a considerable library of relevant books at home, and that has saved me from long hours spent in public libraries. The internet has been a boon. But a lot of the detail in the books was in my head already, from years of reading and writing about folk tales and local geography and history. The background detail is enjoyed by many readers, and there is of course a “learning” aspect to the reading of historical fiction. By the same token, as an author I enjoy the “teaching” opportunities that come in the quieter parts of the novels, and they serve a useful technical purpose too in permitting me to vary the pace of my storytelling.

Tuesday, 28 October 2025

"Before you set your destination, first discover where you are."


I have been pondering on where this quote came from, but have not been able to track it down.  Anyway, it's a nice quote, all about self-awareness and forward planning, among other things.  Very deep, it is.

Maybe it appeals to me because it is all about spatial awareness, too.  A good motto for a geographer......

It reminds me of the old Irish joke:  Irish peasant to posh tourist who is lost in the wilderness, and who is asking the way to the nearest town:  "Well, if I was you, sir, I wouldn't start from here..."

Sunday, 19 October 2025

Echoes and Shadows




I gave a talk at the Torch Theatre in Milford Haven last night -- on the subject of "Echoes and Shadows".  It was a part of the theatre's programme of spooky things in the runup to Halloween.  The other part of the evening was a theatrical performance of "The Turn of the Screw" -- an adaptation of the famous Henry James short storyv of the same name.  It's a ghost story involving a group of very disturbed -- even perverted -- individuals inhabiting a Gothic mansion.......




Anyway, my own talk was well received.  I concentrated on the shadowy and echoing components of he Angel Mountain stories, almost seen and almost heard.  So ghosts and the supernatural figured prominently as I explored Martha's special powers, and those of Joseph Harries the Wizard and others such as the child called Merlin in the pages of "Guardian Angel".  I explained that the supernatural components of the story are absolutely essential, and that I had to develop them as instructed by Mistress Martha during my night of delirium on Gran Canaria all those years ago........ 

I also tried to explain that in spite of the traumatic incidents and the sense of prevailing gloom in some of the novels (such as Dark Angel and Sacrifice) my purpose in writing the stories was not to glorify wickedness and evil but to demonstrate that virtue always wins in the end.  That's why Martha's mistakes and misjudgments are always sorted out by her unlikely guardian angels -- her family, servants and friends, and of course her guardian raven which lives up on the mountain.

============

This is the Torch Theatre's PR material:







Thursday, 16 October 2025

Eight short stories

 


Many readers of the Angel Mountain saga have commented upon the fact that the introductory chapters in all eight of the novels are rather fascinating in their own right.  Some have actually declared that the "diary hunts"  must indeed have happened as they are described,  and who am I to disillusion them?

Anyway, there are eight short stories written from the point of view of the narrator or editor -- and I am in the process of editing them with a view to publication in a single volume.  It will be called "Finding Martha Morgan"  and will only be available in a Kindle format. Watch this space...........

Tuesday, 14 October 2025

Joseph Harries -- the Last Wizard?




Coming up on Thursday evening, Oct 16, at 7 pm at Canolfan Bethlehem in Newport. I shall be talking about one of my favourite fictional characters, who has a strong presence throughout the Angel Mountain Saga. Dr Joseph Harries, the wizard. 

He knows everything. He makes conjurations, casts spells, and has a Big Book. He’s a kind, wise and compassionate man with a tragic past. He’s also a healer, herbalist and sleuth with a phenomenal memory and the ability to solve mysteries. And of course, he loves Martha from the moment they first meet...

But Joseph Harries really did exist.  What do we know of the real man, who had quite a reputation at the time (he lived from 1830-1890)?  Piecing together the evidence of what he believed and what he did is not very easy.....  and was he really Pembrokeshire's "Last Wizard"?????

All will be revealed........










Friday, 10 October 2025

The sad tale of Pickersniff and Jebson



I like the idea of a narrative nested within another narrative, giving colour and maintaining the interest of the reader. But a narrative within a narrative within a narrative is perhaps more challenging. Here is one such -- from the introductory chapter of "Guardian Angel". Excuse me for saying so, but on looking back I am quite pleased with it!

Narrative number one is of course the strange tale of a mysterious elderly woman called Susanna Ravenhill who ultimately saves the mountain of Carningli from destruction. Within that is another narrative, explaining how her autobiographical story is discovered in London.  And within this is narrative number three, relating to the touching relationship of two elderly gentlemen called Pickersniff and Jebson who spend much of their time trying to keep their ancient publishing business afloat. They love one another dearly, in the manner of lifelong friends, but Pickersniff is not at all well; and he never does get to see Jebson's final letter, becase (as we discover later) he dies before it is written and delivered.   So have a smile, if you will, and maybe shed a tear, for the poignant story of these two eternally optimistic old men.............



===============================
Bow Street 

Friday the 4th day of June in the year of our Lord 1858  

My dear Pickersniff 

I trust that this finds you in better health than you displayed at the time of our recent conference. No doubt your good lady has kept you under appropriate restraint and has resisted all your pleadings to sally forth and put the world to rights. A deep chill upon the chest is not a trifling matter, and if I may make so bold I heartily recommend five spoons a day of Dr Abraham’s Patent Lemon and Balsam Medicament which I found to be wonderfully efficacious on the occasion of my last unfortunate indisposition. 

My dear fellow, I hesitate to inform you, when you have quite enough upon your chest as it is, that the wolves are still at the door, not simply howling but seeking to batter it down. I have had yet another note from that wretched fellow Gobbings who is supposed to be printing our ill-fated “Mystery of the Flaming Galleon”, complaining that he will not print part fifteen of the story until we have paid for the printing of part six. I was sure that we had paid him up to and including part eight, but perhaps I am mistaken in that, since the ledger is, I think, at home with you and under your bed. Perhaps, if it is not too much of an exertion, you will be good enough to reach down and fetch it forth, and to let me know the extent of our indebtedness in this matter. Gobbings requires at least £100 from us, but there is less than £23 in the cash box in the office.  

Then that rough fellow from South Wales who sold us 10 cwt of coal in January came and demanded his money, and I had to explain to him that the fearsome winter weather which followed in February had not only caught us unawares and had necessitated a continuous use of our fireplaces in Gabriel Lane, but had also had a dismal effect upon the profitability of our enterprise since it had been all but impossible for us to receive deliveries from our printers or to pack off books and journals to the far-flung corners of the land. “Your problem, not mine, Master Jebson,” said he. “It always snows in February, and I like nothing better than a fireplace going like a blast-furnace around the clock. If I do not get my money next week, I fear that I shall have to pay you a little visit with two of my sturdy friends for company. They are as soft as kittens, but they are not at all lovable when they meet gentlemen who upset me. Do you take my meaning, sir?” I threw him out, of course. But he will be back, with his friends, and I suppose I shall have to conjure a few shillings or pounds from somewhere if I am to avoid unpleasantness. 

There have been others seeking pecuniary satisfaction as well, my dear fellow, but this is not the time to upset you with the sordid trivia of commerce. It is June, after all, and truly all is well with the world! This very day I counted no less than six blackbirds in full voice on my walk from my house to the office. Was that not a splendid thing? 

I fear that I have failed in my attempts to encourage that fellow Dickens to join our happy band of authors, and my communications (which I thought remarkably diplomatic) to Master Collins and Master Thackeray have sadly elicited no response. They are no doubt too busy writing like men possessed, and lining the pockets of others. Mrs Gaskell promises that we will have something new from her, in due course, but I think it a racing certainty that she has not even started work yet and that she is in any case fully occupied on her latest popular fiction. Rumour has it that it will be serialized by Mr Dickens in “Household Words”.  

We must remain optimistic, even in the face of straightened circumstances. My dear fellow, it is too early yet to be sure about matters, but I fancy that I might have found the author who will transform our fortunes! I must relate for you a singular occurrence. This very morning, within five minutes of my turning up at the office, an elderly lady came in off the street and asked young Martin in my hearing if she might meet “the proprietor” on a matter of some urgency. Indeed she might, said I directly, and so in she came. She was dressed in full mourning clothes, and had her veil over her face for the duration of our interview, but I would guess from her voice that she might be more than sixty years of age. A good clear voice she has, with a touch of a Welsh lilt. Medium height, and a good upright posture. Every inch a lady, I would say. She would not give her name, but said she was acting for a friend. She said she was charged with finding a publisher for a memoir entitled “The Ghost of Inglestone” and would be keen -- on behalf of this friend -- to find out how much I might offer for the serial and book rights. 

I said that that would depend upon the quality of the authorship, and offered to read it and come to a view as to what its value might be. She nodded, and I asked her if I might have a glance at said work. She said it was presently locked away, but that she would bring it in for inspection some time next week. “Perfectly acceptable, Madam,” said I. “It is our pleasure, as old-established publishers of high-class literature, to serve both new and established authors to the best of our ability, and to ensure the highest possible remuneration and the greatest possible readership for worthy works.” 

She gave a little curtsey, and I think she smiled beneath her veil. I invited her to join me for a cup of tea, and to say a little about this memoir of hers -- for I think this “friend” is nothing but a little artifice or conceit -- and she was remarkably forthcoming. We talked of this and that for near two hours, in a perfectly easy fashion. During our conversation, she summarized her narrative for me. Absolutely extraordinary! I must say, my dear Pickersniff, that we might have a very big thing here, if we can just get our hands on it!  

The lady courier says that the story ranges right across Europe, and that in order to protect anonymity Mrs Ravenhill has changed the names of people and places. But she admitted to me, on being politely pressed on the matter of authenticity, that several places in Wales feature large in the tale -- with names that are carefully disguised. One, so I gather, is a town called Newport and the other is a mountain that goes by the name of Karren Iggly or some such thing. The tale is truly remarkable, and if it is as fluent and fascinating as the abbreviated verbal narrative given to me by The Woman in Black, it will surely weave a charming web around her readers and leave them trapped and entranced. “But you say this is a memoir, Madam?” said I. “It is a truly fantastical one, in the tradition of the great Gothick tales of years gone by, but with a modern slant to it. Be honest with me if you please -- this is a product of a vivid imagination, is it not?”  

“Sir, you do my friend and myself a grave disservice,” she replied. “I give you my word that when you read this narrative from first page to last, you will be reading a true narrative of real events, recalled and described faithfully by the author.” 

Then without another word, she rose to her feet, gave another curtsey, and indicated to young Martin with a nod of her head that she would take her leave. She would take no assistance in the hailing of a phaeton, so I kissed her hand, and down the stairs she went. I chanced to look out through the window as she went out into the street, and I saw that she met up with another mature lady, with whom she strode off towards Piccadilly, arm in arm. 

I await developments. Get well again as soon as may be, my dear fellow. In truth it would be a fine thing to have you here again in the office, in case any more angry coalmen or exotic ladies in mourning dress come calling. There is too much blackness about for me to cope with all alone. 

I send fond greetings to your good lady, and remain your dear friend 

Jebson 

---------------------------------- 

Russell Square 

June the 7th 1858 

My dear good friend, 

Thank you indeed for your kind felicitations and for your encouragement for me to return to the rudest of health as soon as God may permit it. In his infinite wisdom He has decreed that Dr Abraham’s Patent Lemon and Balsam Medicament should work miracles for other gentlemen but should do nothing whatsoever in the calming of my own troubled breast. I am therefore still confined to bed with a horrid cough and a fevered brow, and fear that it will be some days yet before I can return to work. In the meantime, I advise you to lay in cudgels and a few bottles of unpretentious wine so as to deal with irate coalmen and exotic tellers of tall tales. 

In all seriousness, my dear fellow, things are not looking too good. I fished out the ledger from beneath my bed and discovered that we have thus far paid only for parts one to five of “Mystery of the Flaming Galleon”, and that parts six to fourteen are still to be paid for. If Gobbings calls again, or sends round his attorney, for God’s sake convince him that parts fifteen to twenty must be printed, if we are to prevent revolution and mayhem; that the eager reading public is more and more absorbed with the mystery as week succeeds week; and that when the full book is published there will be fortunes to be made by all three of us -- Gobbings, Pickersniff and Jebson. Tell him that the word among both critics and publishing gentlemen of discernment is that sales will be truly enormous! I fear that I do not believe a word of that myself, and I suppose that neither do you; but when the wolves are at the door some small exaggeration is required if one is to encourage them to go away. I confess to feeling somewhat depressed with regard to our prospects, my dear old friend. But one must battle on, must one not? 

Now then, to this exotic lady and her fanciful memoir called “The Ghost of Inglestone”. Is there anything further to report? Why should her book be any better than the dross which pours in, week after week, from aspiring novelists, and which washes across our office floor? It would indeed be a miracle if her memoir was to be the very thing to rescue us from penury. But there have been miracles before, as the Good Book assures us. 

By the way, Newport I know about. A big sea-port, so I believe, with coal and iron coming and going, and dark and dismal streets where dastardly deeds are probably commonplace. A good place for a novel, if I am not mistaken. Next, this peak you call Karren Iggli. Is it a place of beetling crags, swirling mists and tumbling glaciers and snowfields, where sturdy mountaineers faint with terror and disappear without trace, and where fearsome demons or monsters lurk? Is the Abominable Snowman stamping about across the pages? If so, I suppose we are in with a chance of giving the modern reader what he or she wants.  

Grateful thanks for the currant cake, which I shall consume when I am better. My beloved Ellen sends her kindest regards, as do I. 

Your old friend 

Pickersniff 

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Bow Street 

The 14th day of June, year of our Lord 1858  

My dear Pickersniff 

I have more news for you, and I trust this finds you in your convalescent wicker chair in the garden rather than in your sick bed.  

The coal-man and his two friends from Merthyr Tydfil came for their money, so I paid him £8 on account, and gave each of them a glass of red wine. That seemed like a more sensible strategy than defending myself with a cudgel, as I hope you will agree. While we were chatting amiably, who should come knocking on the door than my aspiring author! My clerk Martin let her in, and -- blow me down with a breeze -- when she was introduced to those thugs from South Wales she forgot all about her mourning, lifted her veil and started chatting to them nineteen to the dozen, in Welsh, just as if they were all lifelong friends! Perhaps they were, for she called them Twm and Ianto. I had no idea what it was all about, but very soon they were rolling about and hooting with laughter. It was very infectious, and I admit to having a giggle myself. The lady was kind enough to explain, after they had gone, that they were reminiscing about good old times. 

With the return of sobriety, I noticed what a handsome woman Mrs Ravenhill is. (I shall call her that, although she still claims that she is someone else, and is acting as an agent for our mysterious author.) She has the most beautiful brown eyes, a straight nose and lips that are still full in spite of her age. Her high cheek-bones and a ruddy complexion suggest a liking for the fresh air and sunshine. Her brown hair has a touch of grey in it. She has her fair share of wrinkles, but I estimate that they are more to do with laughter than with sadness, and I declare that I cannot for the life of me decide whether she is a lady who has seen and done everything in her sixty years, or a lady who is remarkably well preserved at eighty. It matters not, my dear fellow; I judge that she has a good deal of life left in her yet, and that is an important consideration if she is to be our next big author. She seems to know London very well, and to have good connections. To tell the truth, I have more faith in this dear lady than I do in Mrs Gaskell. 

Apologies, Samuel. I ramble on, and must get to the point. Mrs Ravenhill did not stay long. She left me a bundle, and took her leave, having promised to return in one week. So now I have the manuscript in my possession. On the first page these words are inscribed: “The Ghost of Inglestone: Being the memoir of a phantom or lost soul whose destiny it is to wander the earth and to find redemption for a wicked life through the completion of good works, the prevention of evil and the saving of that which is sacred.” A strange title, and somewhat pretentious, don’t you think? We can probably advise her of the merits of something shorter. 

However and notwithstanding, it is an unusual pleasure to be given something complete, instead of receiving a few pages at a time, for our next weekly episode, from some aspiring author who probably has not the faintest idea how his story is going to end. I am truly tired of penny dreadfuls and turgid episodes of “Mystery of the Flaming Galleon”, and long for a good tale, well told, fit to make us a fortune. As I have indicated, I know the outline of this dear lady’s tale already. All I need now is good writing. 

I will read the tale, and report to you again in some days. On the matter of tumbling glaciers and fearsome demons at the heart of the narrative, I am at present uncertain; but you may rest assured that I will look out for them. 

I remain 

Your ever faithful friend  

Jebson 

----------------------------------- 

Russell Square 

16th day of June 1858 

My Dear Jebson 

I have received your narrative of laughing coalmen and the beautiful old lady -- I am truly glad to see that you are bearing up well in spite of the fact that we still face a financial disaster. I wish I could share your eternal optimism, my dear fellow. As for me, optimism does not come easily just now, since my doctor has just told me the dismal news that this bother on my chest has turned into pneumonia. I wish that I was younger and stronger. So I fear that I am out of action for a good while yet -- a matter of great regret to me, in view of the hard times that are upon us and because a great weight is now pressed upon your shoulders alone. 

I declare that your mysterious lady author has made a profound impression upon you! Beware, Master Jebson! An old bachelor like you should look to his laurels. You always did have a tendency to be swept away by a shapely figure, a flashing smile and a furtive glance. I see bunches of red roses coming on. However, I will not complain so long as you retain objectivity in all things, especially when it comes to publishing decisions; and I trust that when you read this lady’s manuscript, you will see before you her words rather than her brown eyes............. 

Now Ellen tells me that I must sleep, and I always obey instructions 

Your dear friend 

Pickersniff 

----------------------------- 

Bow Street, on the 22nd day of June 1858 

Dearest Pickersniff, 

I received news of your deteriorated condition from our lad Martin, and also from your beloved Ellen when she called in at the office this very morning, and I write this with a heavy heart. I am mortified that no visitors are allowed to your sick room, for I was intent upon calling in to see you with a little box of things designed to bring you good cheer, and a manuscript for you to read. But you must remain brave, my good fellow, and hold to the belief that the great advances in medical science that mark our era will shortly enable you to cast off the shadow of that dismal disease and turn the corner into a bright new day and a full recovery. You have in Doctor Snugget a skillful and wise practitioner, and I have it on the soundest authority that there is no better man on this side of the Thames. 

Now then, news to cheer you and to speed you to a full recovery. Mrs Susanna Ravenhill is the woman who holds our future in her hands! I have no doubt about it. She writes good English, and her tale is even more remarkable than I had perceived from that conversation of some weeks back. I know, my dear old friend, that your instinct has always been to find a genius of tender years who will write us a never-ending stream of episodes and a three-part novel each year for the next twenty years; but bright young things such as Miss Austen and the Bronte sisters tend not to reproduce, and to die young. Then I know that your instinct tends towards the Gothick. I fear that on that score I must disappoint you, since there appears not to be a trace of a dragon or a demon, or a glacier or a sturdy mountaineer, in the narrative which I have recently perused; neither is there an insane murderer on the loose, or a ravished heroine, or a vampire desperate for the blood of virgins. But never fear -- there are many compensatory virtues in this tale, and in any case it is my judgement that the taste for Gothick nonsense is now greatly reduced. Is that not shown already by the success of the tales of Mr Dickens, Mr Collins and others who write about poverty, injustice and strange and convoluted family histories? They may fill their books with caricatures, but they know how to spin their yarns and to weave pretty tales, and it is our misfortune that we have no such writer on our publication list.  

But now all that is about to change, my dear fellow. I feel it in my creaky old bones................ 

Damnation! I was about to elaborate. But young Martin tells me that that fellow Gobbings is at the door again, with a countenance as black as thunder. I will get out the best bottle of red wine I can find, and try to placate him. I will send this off to you with a view to bringing you a little comfort; and I will continue my hopeful narrative later. 

Take care, my dear old friend, and hurry along to a full and speedy recovery. I need you to be well again. I recommend a slice of that moist currant cake, which is now mature enough to have reached perfection. Give my kindest regards to your beloved Ellen. 

Your ever affectionate 

Jebson 

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Friday, 5 September 2025

The Battle in the Sky

 


As readers of the saga will know,  Martha sees the battle in the sky and takes it as a sign of appalling things to come.

This is a splendid imagining of the battle inn the sky above Mynydd Morfil, by Hugh Thomas and published on his Facebook page.  Note the detail in the painting -- zoom in on the sky just above and to the right of the cottage and you will see the shadowy figures of the medievel soldiers who are involved in the thunderous mayhem......

The cottage is a pretty good representation of the buildings of the time, up on the flanks of Preseli.  And the far horizon is pretty accurate too -- including the silhouette of the distant summit of Carningli.

Tuesday, 15 July 2025

The spirit of Wales



Back in 2016 we spent a lot of time in trying to define Wales and its spirit.  This is what we came up with.

Wales is two hours and a million miles away -- a small country on the Celtic fringe of Europe. The country’s green acres have seen a valiant struggle for self determination against a powerful and predatory neighbour.  From the days of its ancient myths and native princes, to the ring of castles built by its conquerors, to its soaring rocky peaks and wild coasts, to its rich bardic and linguistic heritage, and the coal and iron that forged a global industrial revolution, Wales has always been a nation of survivors.  Melancholia features large in the national psyche -- but so does euphoria, and the old mystics talked of two fighting dragons.  Welsh people still have a powerful sense of place and an instinct for subversion and social justice.  They still have an abiding fondness for family histories, mysteries and legends, poetry and music, ceremonial and eccentric traditions.  And in Wales you will find a living language, an open-hearted generosity of spirit, a real sense of mischief, and the warmest of welcomes."


.......with acknowledgement to Jan Morris in particular.

Friday, 11 July 2025

Pantygrwndy Fawr

 


This is a lovely Georgian house (currently on the market) which serves as a nice model for Plas Ingli, Martha's beloved home -- rebuilt after the deadly fire that killed most of David's family.  There are some differences in my mind -- for example, I see Plas Ingli as having a portico over the front door and a driveway approaching from the front........