I, Robert Willis, write this as an addendum to my father’s account of the episode related to His Majesty’s malady. My brother John and I would accompany my father on three further episodes in providing treatment to His Majesty during relapses of his illness. A brief spell fell over the King during 1795, but it was so blessedly brief that we did not believe it to be anything more than His Majesty’s stress over the question of the revolution in France, which very nearly drove the whole country mad. A more serious relapse occurred in 1801 and then again in 1804. By that time, my father was too aged to attend to His Majesty and I would attend with John and a variety of other physicians, whose names are not terribly important for our purposes here.

We had always understood that the treatments provided during the winter of 1788-89 would not be a permanent solution, but the escalating frequency of His Majesty’s bouts concerned us that this was a losing battle. My father became deeply worried, in the final years before his death in 1807, that the site of our battle with the red banshee at Moel Famau might once again have started seeping its chaotic influences into the country as a whole and toward His Majesty in particular.

I confess that after my father’s death we did not immediately inquire as to the state of Moel Famau or any affairs in Ruthin generally. Come 1809, however, a variety of peculiar phenomena struck Ruthin that demanded our attention. We drew up plans to build a great seal atop the mountain’s summit that would keep its malign influences contained. However, we had difficulty locating sufficient labour and our plans became hopelessly delayed until true disaster struck in 1810 with His Majesty’s most serious descent into madness yet.

It was then that we began constructing what became known as the Jubilee Tower, officially meant to celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of His Majesty’s ascension to the throne. He hoped that by sealing the malice that poured forth out of Moel Famau the King would swiftly improve. Sadly, that was not to be and, at long last, the Prince of Wales was made Regent over his father.

Other malicious effects from Moel Famau did seem to abate and reports of incidents in Ruthin as well as the remainder of Clwyd dropped off a great deal. We never actually managed to complete the Jubilee Tower as it had been intended for a simple reason. We determined, collectively, that to build a truly imposing structure would simply draw more unwelcome visitors who might one day discover that evil domain deep below the mountain.

So it was that we claimed we could not complete the project due to a lack of funds. After all, there was the ongoing war against Napoleon that consumed virtually every spare resource on the island. It was a perfectly fair assertion that with such demands we could not place any further burdens on the treasury. There was not a soul in the realm who questioned our assertions.

I visited Ruthin again in 1815, with His Majesty descending still deeper into madness. Whatever had come out of Ruthin five years earlier was intractable and rendered the King increasingly and violently unstable. I tried to ascertain what it might have been as I examined the seal we had placed upon Moel Famau with that partially-completed tower. I regret that I was not able to learn what had happened.

His Majesty, George III, died in early January 1820, almost entirely alone and in a state of abject madness. The Prince of Wales ascended the throne as George IV and has worryingly displayed some similar maladies. It is for that reason I again sought out these papers from my father to learn what little I am able so that we might again put these malevolent forces in check.

It is as my father wrote in the preceding pages. This struggle will persist for all time. God save us all.