28/07/2025
A Village, a Beach, and a Coven:
On the wild eastern coast of Anglesey lies the quiet village of Llanddona, forever bound to one of Wales’s most mysterious and enduring legends. For centuries, people have told the story of a strange boat — rudderless and drifting — that came ashore at Llanddona Beach, carrying a family of outcasts said to be witches, banished from distant shores.
When the strange craft landed, the villagers were terrified. Some gathered on the sands, determined to drive the witches back into the sea, but they failed — the winds turned, the tide rose, and the boat’s passengers came ashore. Fearing a curse if they harmed them, the villagers reluctantly let them settle on the edge of their land.
The newcomers did not settle among the villagers but built their huts on the outskirts, close to the wild heath and hidden streams. Soon, they became a force no one dared challenge — taking what they pleased from fields and farmyards, striding into shops and cottages without paying a penny. The villagers, too afraid to confront them, learned instead to keep their distance, whispering warnings behind closed doors.
Over time, fear turned to a wary tolerance. The witches offered cures, charms, and curses in exchange for silver and silence. Two became especially infamous: Bella Fawr (Big Bella), tall and fearsome, with a talent for powerful charms; and Siani Bwt (Short Jane), small but sharp-witted, rumoured to have two thumbs on her left hand — an unsettling deformity that made her stand out wherever she went. People whispered that her extra thumb gave her double the power when mixing potions or weaving curses, and some swore they had seen her point both thumbs at a well or a sick beast, chanting words no one dared repeat. Many claimed that a single touch from Siani Bwt’s double-thumbed hand could bless or blight you for life.
People claimed the witches could heal sick animals, ruin a harvest overnight, or keep your well from running dry — if you paid them and stayed in their favour. Unlike other parts of Britain, where witch trials filled court records and gallows, the witches of Llanddona were left alone, too feared — and perhaps too needed — for anyone to challenge them openly.
Their line, people say, did not die with Bella Fawr and Siani Bwt. For generations, villagers pointed out families rumoured to be descended from the witches — and some claim that to this day, the bloodline of the Llanddona Witches still lives quietly in the area, a living link to an age of folklore, fear, and old magic.
Today, scattered around the village, hidden wells and ancient springs still bubble up from the earth — reminders, some say, of the witches’ power to bless or curse the land’s lifeblood.
So next time you stand on Llanddona Beach, feel the wind, listen to the waves — and remember, the witches who came ashore could not be driven away, and maybe never truly left at all.
Gwrachod Llanddona--The Witches of Llanddona
