Mary Thomas, the Fasting Woman

Mary Thomas, the fasting woman of Tan-yr-allt. Sketched by James Ward (1769-1859) in 1807.

'Fasting girls' were relatively common oddities of the past, and Wales produced more than its fair share. Mary Thomas was different in that her fasting wasn't a temporary wonder or, seemingly, a hindrance to her longevity. After falling deathly ill in her late teens, Mary survived but was confined to bed for the next 70 years where she became something of a tourist attraction as a breathing skeleton.

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Mary was born around 1724 and was presumably a normal child until she fell ill at around the age of seven with "some eruptions like the measles." Although she improved, the illness struck again each year in the sping and fall, during which time she was confined to bed. In her mid to late teens - accounts vary as to her exact age - she was struck by a violent relapse of this illness and was almost given up for dead.

Her Mother supposedly prayed for God to let her live, no matter what, and when Mary finally overcame the fever she was left weakened and bedbound. In her twenties there was some improvement; she could walk, at times, and once travelled to Holywell in hope of a cure. But another relapse at around 27 left her entirely insensible for two and half years.

On recovering her senses, Mary said she thought only a single night had passed. From then until her death in her 80s, Mary was bed-ridden and relied on the charity of friends, neighbours, and visitors who came to look upon her as a curiosity. She went days at a time without any food or drink, and when she did partake it was only in tiny quantities.

For all her problems, and the constant pain she suffered, she remained quick witted and devoutly religious until her death in 1813.

Thomas Pennant (1726-1798), the Welsh travel writer and antiquarian, visited Mary at Tyddyn Bach farm in 1770:

In a former visit (July 18th, 1770) to this place [Barmouth], my curiosity was excited to examine into the truth of a surprising relation of a woman in the parish of Celynin [Llangelynin], who had fasted a most supernatural length of time. I took boat, had a most pleasant passage up the harbour, charmed with the beauty of the shores, intermixed with woods, verdant pastures, and corn fields.

I landed, and, after a short walk, found, in a farm called Tyddyn Bach, the object of my excursion, Mary Thomas, who was boarded here, and kept with great humanity and neatness. She was of the age of forty-seven, of a good countenance, very pale, thin, but not so much emaciated as might be expected, from the strangeness of the circumstances I am going to relate; her eyes weak, her voice low, deprived of the use of her lower extremities, and quite bed-ridden; her pulse rather strong, her intellects clear and sensible.

On examining her, she informed me, that at the age of seven, she had some eruptions like the measles, which grew confluent and universal; and she became so sore, that she could not bear the left touch: she received some ease by the application of a sheep’s skin, just taken from the animal. After this, she was seized, at spring and fall, with swellings and inflammations, during which time she was confined to her bed; but in the intervals could walk about; and once went to Holywell, in hopes of cure.

When she was about twenty-seven years of age, she was attacked with the same complaint, but in a more violent manner; and during two years and a half, remained insensible, and took no manner of nourishment, notwithstanding her friends forced open her mouth with a spoon, to get something down; but the moment the spoon was taken away, her teeth met, and closed with vast snapping and violence: during that time, she flung up vast quantities of blood.

She well remembers the return of her senses, and her knowledge of every body about her. She thought she had slept but a night, and asked her mother whether she had given her any thing the day before, for she found herself very hungry. Meat was brought to her; but so far from being able to take any thing solid, she could scarcely swallow a spoonful of thin whey. From this, she continued seven years and a half without any food or liquid, excepting sufficient of the latter to moisten her lips.

At the end of this period, she again fancied herself hungry, and desired an egg; of which she got down the quantity of a nut kernel. About this time, she requested to receive the sacrament; which she did, by having a crum of bread steeped in the wine. After this, she takes for her daily subsistence a bit of bread, weighing about two penny-weights seven grains, and drinks a wine glass of water: sometimes a spoonful of wine, but frequently abstains whole days from food and liquids.

She sleeps very indifferently: the ordinary functions of nature are very small, and very seldom performed. Her attendant told me, that her disposition of mind was mild; her temper even; that she was very religious, and very fervent in prayer: the natural effect of the state of her body, long unembarrassed with the grossness of food, and a constant alienation of thought from all worldly affairs.

Pennant noted a decade later: "She was living in 1780 and in the same state." And in 1786: "She, at this time (1786), continues in the same situation, and observes the same regimen." For the 1810 edition of his Journey through Wales, Pennant's editor noted: "Mary Thomas is still (Dec. 1809) living, but for some time has taken as much nourishment as could be expected at the advanced age of eighty five years, sixty-five of which she has been confined to her bed. Her intellects are perfectly clear. In 1806 she remembered and spoke with pleasure of Mr Pennant’s visit to Celynin."

This portrait was included with some editions of Pennant's Tour, done by Moses Griffith in 1805.



The Early Tourists in Wales blog has some manuscript quotes from other people who visited Mary.

Walter Davies (aka Gwallter Mechain, 1761-1849), for example, wrote in his journal for July 1804:

"Visited Mary Thomas, mentioned by Mr Pennant in his tour. She says she is in her 80th year. She says she was affected by a paralytic disorder – which confined her for a long time. At 17 she became continually bed ridden – at 22 a slight symptom of restored nature appeared – but soon after a relapse took place – was supported for years by suction (through) from a goose quill, and ever since she has borne the appearance of a mere skeleton, perfectly helpless."

Similarly, Joseph Hawker wrote of Mary during his tour through north Wales with his wife, Elizabeth, in 1812:

"About 2 miles from Barmouth lives an old woman who has been in bed for about 65 years. She took to it when 20 years old being much afflicted with the rheumatism, for the last five years she has subsisted on a glass of water and a thin small slice of bread each week, her knees are drawn almost up to her chin and her hands so thin and transparent that a candle may be seen through them. It is supposed that she does not weight more than 15 pounds."

Welsh artist Edward Pugh (1763-1813) also visited Mary around this time. His painting and account of the visit was published posthumously in 1816 in his book, Cambria Depicta: A Tour Through North Wales.

Leaving Abermaw, or Barmouth, I crossed the ferry, and went to a cottage of David Roberts’s, called, Tan yr Allt, in Llangelynin parish, to visit a very extraordinary old woman, whose name is Mary Thomas. Mr. Pennant mentions her so far back as the year 1770: but as forty years have been added to her lingering existence, she now may be considered as an infinitely greater curiosity.

Her history is precisely this: when at the age of seven or eight years, an eruption, similar to the measles, broke out upon her, which continued to affect her, more or less, at the spring and fall of the year: during this time she kept her bed, and walked out alternately. I questioned her very closely; nevertheless, I perceive that Mr. Pennant’s account of her differs a little from mine, respecting the period of her finally taking to her bed: but this is immaterial, as it might have risen from the circumstance of her frequent confinement.

At one time, relates Mr. Pennant, “she continued more than seven years without any sustenance of any kind, excepting a little liquid, to moisten her mouth.” At the age of fifteen, her complaint returned, with the addition, as it was supposed, of a severe cold, which affected her legs so power fully, as totally to deprive her of their use: consequently she has been bed-ridden from the commencement of the attack. She is now eighty-six years of age, so that seventy-one out of that number have witnessed her pitiable condition.

Once a day she is removed to another bed in the same room, while her own is making. The tendons of the legs are so permanently fixed and contracted, as to bring the os calcis nearly in contact with the os-sacrum, thus debarring her, at once, of the possibility of extending her limbs, as well as of the power of walking. Having passed so many years, suffering under the influence of the greatest pains, which have baffled the skill and the experience of the faculty in the country, added to the want of such indulgencies as soften the asperities of life, she is reduced to a mere skeleton.

The colour of her countenance is pale brown, and her eyes a deep jet, as is also her hair. Her food is bread and milk, of which she takes but a few penny-weights in quantity, and that but once a day. It has been observed, lately, that she eats more than she used to do, but this has not occasioned, as we might be led to suppose, a renovation of health: the reverse is her experience; for she seldom feels a cessation from sickness, and her sleep is uneasy and disturbed. Mary has lately lost the use of one eye, though its decay was not observable to me.

Her recollection is exquisitely strong, and her hearing so quick, that she can hear an out-of-door conversation a considerable distance off. She is so susceptible of cold, that it has been judged necessary to put fire in an iron pot, which is placed in bed with her, but so well secured, as to prevent the least danger by accident, or at all prove a molestation to her.

Until very lately she had for many years habituated herself to the singular practice of kneading and baking her own bread. A large dish was placed on the bed by her side, upon which she contrived to knead and form her paste: this was replaced by a tripod wooden stool reversed, which received an iron kettle, full of fire; upon this was also placed an iron pan or plate with the shapened dough; and thus, in due time, she would produce an excellent loaf.

Her singular history brings a number of visitors from all parts to see her, particularly the English nobility and gentry, when on their excursions through this country. I am concerned to state that my efforts to learn the name of a nobleman, whose benevolence has made him highly respected here, have proved abortive. He saw this poor object, felt for her, and with a munificence that will do his lordship everlasting honour, sent her necessaries of different descriptions, to the value of fifty pounds.

Some time since, his Royal Highness Prince William Henry of Gloucester honoured her with a visit: she seemed highly pleased with the idea of having beheld the King’s nephew, and that the royal visitor should have condescended to enter her humble habitation; and she spoke of the prince with a heart fraught with gratitude.

No one having ever published her portrait, she readily permitted me to take her likeness; and I have been so successful, that the accuracy of it may be depended upon.

It has been asserted by some people, that Mary Thomas is an artful woman; that her illness has been feigned, to deceive the charitable stranger; and that her abstinence by day, is compensated by her voluptuous appetite being amply satisfied at night; and this was even told me by a gentleman in the neighbourhood. Is it not surprising, that people will so far suffer prejudice to get the better of their understanding, as to deny the truth of an extraordinary operation of Providence, for no other reason than that it appears unaccountable to them?

Is it likely, or can it be believed for a moment, that a gay, young, and sprightly girl, at the artless age of fifteen, could have the courage to adopt an austere, rigid way of life: a mode of existence so shocking, that the very soul would naturally revolt from it?—that she would abandon her companions, and those innocent pastimes and pleasures, so congenial to youthful constitutions; and that she would, without premeditation, instantly forego the vast gradation of delights which youth are so apt to picture to themselves, as flowing through life, for the bitter potion of a perpetual imprisonment, and exclusion from all the happiness and comforts attached to liberty and ease? Such a supposition is an egregious absurdity, broached by ignorant and unfeeling minds, without the slightest foundation of truth or probability.

The day I saw this woman, these insinuations were fully and satisfactorily refuted by Mrs. Thomas of Llanegrin, who, twenty-five years ago, lived in the same house with her, when a similar report was in circulation: but which Mrs. T. declares to have been utterly void of truth; as such a circumstance as that of her getting up at night for refreshment, or of any such being conveyed to her, must infallibly have been attended with discovery, which never took place.

Peter Roberts (1760-1819), author of the 1815 book Cambrian Antiquities, was unable to visit Mary himself so enlisted the help of a friend. He wrote:

MARY THOMAS, THE FASTING WOMAN, NEAR DOLGELLEY.

Of the various affections of the physical system of the human body, there is, perhaps, no one which excites more curiosity, or more difficult to explain, than that by which life is continued for many years, without the degree of sustenance upon which, except in a very few instances, the continuation of life is known to depend. That it should appear supernatural to the ignorant is not surprising, when to the most learned and ingenious it presents a phenomenon, the possibiliy of which has frequently been doubted; and as to which, so much investigation has been thought necessary to ascertain the fact.

In cases of such rare occurrence, it is of importance to the natural history of man, and may be so to medical science, to collect as many particulars as can be obtained; and, therefore, though the present instance has been noticed by Mr. Pennant long ago, it will not be useless to describe the state of the same person now after so long an interval. [Pennant's Account]

Not having been able to see this wo-man myself, I requested a friend who had the opportunity of calling upon her to do so, and transmit an account of her to me. This he very obligingly has done as follows : —

Dear Sir, August 31, 1812.

I had not much difficulty in finding out the subject of your inquiry, as she is lodged in a cottage on the road between Dolgelley and Ynysfaig. Her name is Mary Thomas, and she is eighty-seven years of age, since Epiphany last (in Welsh Ystwyll), a favourite date of our countrymen.

Her first appearance was, to me, frightful enough, as her features are peculiarly large, and the skin of her face is lank or leathery, and pallid. The ears, eyebrows, and mouth, are all prominent; indeed, the head altogether seems larger than that of any other I ever noticed, at that time of life. Her mental powers are tolerably good, and particularly so at her age. She says, that she was born free from any natural defect, and continued until ten years old in good health, when she had a very dangerous fever, which left her afflicted in her limbs.

About her twentieth year she was taken by her parents to Holywell, for the recovery of her health; but returned without any benefit. She was about forty years of age, I believe, when she commenced her fasting life, and for ten years, she says, she took no nourish- ment; but had her lips occasionally wetted with sugar and water. This state of her life was called by the country people, Gweledigaeth, or 'Trance'; but I did not find that she remembered any thing particular during its continuance. The first solid morsel she ate upon her restoration, she remembers receiving from the hands of Mr. Lloyd, the clergyman of the parish. Since her return from Holywell she has ever been bed-ridden; though frequently removed from one house to another.

Her present sustenance is a shilling loaf of the finest bread per week, taken in ale, of which also she has a shilling's worth weekly. She is nearly double in bed, and her arms are nothing but skin and bone. She has been for these many long years supported by the parish of Cylynin, at the rate of two shillings per week. Besides this, however, she has received a good deal from her curious visitors, particularly in the summer season. The family of Arthog, which is close by, is also very charitable to her.

I do not find that she belongs to any particular religious sect, but many good neighbours often read religious books to her, with which she is much pleased. I must not omit a report of the neighbours, that, during the early fever of which I spoke above, she was, at one time, supposed to be dead, at which time her mother earnestly exclaimed, in a wish to God, to have her any how restored to her, and in this condition she has remained. I remarked, that she has a strong desire to represent herself as a wonder. The people of the house know not when, or how much at a time, she eats, as she helps herself at pleasure from a box within her reach.

To this account I have only to add, that this woman died last year, viz. 1813.

The North Wales Gazette of February 4th 1813 reported on her death:



Mary was buried on the 7th January 1813, with a note in the parish burial register that she had been confined to her bed for upwards of 65 years.