Today I’ve invited Griswallt ap Llechitwyt, author of ‘The Grog Invasion’ and an authority on the legendary Welsh water-folk, the Llandoddies, to regale us with a rare insight into these fascinating creatures. Grissie, as he is affectionately called, lives somewhere in the heart of the Cambrian Mountains, a recluse who makes occasional forays into the 21st century and has a further Llandoddie book in preparation.
My involvement with the Doddies, or Llandoddies, as they come from Llandrindod Wells, goes back to the time when I first learned about the Battle of Aberdod. So amazing was the story of these legendary folk, I just had to put it down on paper. The picture illustrates a scene from the battle, which occurred on St Cewydd’s Day in 1913, St Cewydd being the patron saint of rain. Here you can see the sense of despair on the faces of the little Doddies as they are being overwhelmed by the villainous Grogs who are intent on putting the Doddies to the sword, stealing their cakes and also the Doddie ladies who bake them.
How can they possibly survive against such odds? Well, all is revealed in The Grog Invasion which you can get from http://www.davidbellamy.co.uk Should you visit Llandrindod, or Llandod as it is known locally, be sure to look out for all the Doddie sculptures around the place: in the Rock Park, beside the lake and in the woods. Powys County Council are organising a Llandoddie walk this summer, and who knows, you might well come across one of the little folk if you are quiet, but beware of any Grogs that might lurk in the undergrowth!
The second book in the series, Terror of the Trolls, is currently being written, but because much of the action takes place underground in the Rock Park it has not been easy to dig out the incredibly awful tale of these monsters from Howey, but for those who have read the first book you may be reassured that many of your old favourite characters make an appearance. I’ll be back with more news before long.
Grissie
A fine seasonal festive wish to Griswallt ap Llechitwyt when you next meet up in Rock Park. I was there yesterday and the sounds of ‘something’ were around the lake’s edges.
What made the Sounds?
All kinds of things that come with breezes and sounds that meet them from the souls of soils below. Unheard sounds from so long ago that their very silence has made them groan like stone itself.
Was it the Dragon?
Noooo. The Dragon was asleep – not a peep it made. Nothing stirred. Not a mouse. Not a house light went on. It was totally dark.
How did you see where you were going?
I didn’t. I tripped and fell deep down into the depths beneath where only Grogs can live. Fearsome fellows I’ve heard tell that would take your afterlife if you let them.
How did you get out?
To this very day, THAT is a mystery. One moment I was pulled into a deep sleep like in the grip of a grim reaper – the next I was back on shore, not sure of anything but the shadow of a vast being that had risen from the waters.
Was it a Llandoddie?
I couldn’t say, for sure. But it was soaked so heavily in water that I swear the whole lake was covering it and it, it turn, was holding that water, safe.
Gracious! What did you say?
I said nothing. There were no words great enough for such a rescue. No words ever written in any language to express my sincere gratitude. But here I am. Living proof that I escaped and maybe, just maybe, the legend of the Llandoddies is more than a legend has ever, ever, ever been before.
Lovely work, Grant! The legend continues, and helps us survive in this insane world. Many thanks for sharing this and all best wishes for 2026.
David