Newtown, Powys

The Birthplace of one of the 19th Century's Greatest Social Reformers

Newtown? Where and Why

Wales

Powys

Lynne chose Newtown as the destination for her birthday sojourn. It was not an obvious choice, but there was a reason.

During the years our daughter spent at Aberystwyth University we travelled regularly from North Staffs to the Welsh coast. Crossing the border near Welshpool we either took a northerly route through Mallwyd and Machynlleth or tacked south through Newtown and Llangurig. Either way the 100-mile journey took around 3 hours, the roads are narrow and there was a good chance of finding yourself in a queue behind a tractor winding its noisy way through the quiet hills of Mid-Wales while flicking gobbets of mud and cow dung at is unwilling followers.

Mid-Wales
Shrewsbury is 35 miles from home, Newtown is another 35 miles southwest

‘I have driven through Newtown many times, and never stopped there,’ she said, ‘so I would like to visit for my birthday.’ ‘There might be a reason no one stops,’ I thought, making a token show of resistance before meekly acquiescing.

Wales

Newtown is the largest town in Powys, Wales largest county. That almost makes it sound important, but although Powys covers a remarkable 25% of the Welsh landmass, it has only 3% of the population. Newton has some 11,000 citizens, twice as many as Llandrindod Wells, the administrative centre, and ten times more than Montgomery, the other Powys town I have ‘honoured’ with a blog post.

Its name does the town no favours and is hardly unique; Wikipedia lists another 80 Newtowns (and almost as many Newtons) across the Anglosphere. In England it prompts memories, for those old enough, of the ‘challenging’ Newtown in ‘Z Cars’ or comparison with real new towns, like Telford or Milton Keynes with a reputation for many thousands of identikit 1970s dwellings and concrete brutalist centres. Actually, I like Milton Keynes, I find it well planned and user friendly, but it does have an (unwarranted) reputation

Newtown, Powys, is not like that. It may have undergone relatively recent expansion, but it is a surprisingly old new town.

Castell Dolforwyn and the Origins of Y Drenewydd (The New Town)

The A483 follows the Severn Valley southwest from Welshpool. 5 miles before Newtown a sign to Dolforwyn Castle points to a narrow side road climbing diagonally across the hillside almost parallel to the main road below. After a mile, opposite a small parking area, a footpath strikes up the hillside towards the castle.

The path up to Dolforwyn Castle
There is nothing Lynne enjoys more than a steady climb

Working its way round the end of the hill, it turns towards the summit and suddenly you are surrounded by old stonework. This area, just outside the gate, was once occupied by the village that grew up to service the castle

Dolforwyn Castle entrance

To assert his claim to be the most important among the Welsh rulers/warlords/princes, Llywelyn ap Gruffudd, Prince of Gwynedd needed a presence in the strategically important Severn Valley. His successful invasion of 1257 and subsequent consolidation led to the Treaty of Montgomery (September 1267) where Henry III recognised him as the Prince of Wales. To confirm his control Llywelyn constructed a castle at Dolforwyn between 1273 and 1277.

The side of Dolforwyn Castle overlooking the Severn Valley is the remains of Llywelyn's stone work

Edward I

Unfortunately for him Henry III had died in 1272 and his son and successor Edward I was less tolerant of upstart princelings on his borders, particularly those who built a castle without his permission. Construction had hardly finished when Roger Mortimer and Henry de Lacy arrived from Montgomery with an army and laid siege.

After removing the villagers, they sat down and waited until the defenders ran out of water and the siege ended.

Roger Mortimer largely rebuilt the castle, remembering to include a well in case of another siege. Dolforwyn remained in Mortimer hands for three generations before it was abandoned. By 1398 it was described as "ruinous and worth nothing." It is now in the safe hands of Cadw, the Welsh Government’s historic environment service.

The side of the castle most rebuilt by Mortimer - including the well

Edward I had his faults, but he ensured the lands he grabbed were well governed. Driving the native Welsh princes from the Severn Valley pacified the borders and the castle’s displaced villagers felt confident enough to move down to the flatter land beside the river. Three miles from Dolforwyn they built Y Drenewydd (The New Town) or simple Newtown beside the River Severn.

Robert Owen

The Statue

Walking from the large car park beside the Severn towards the bustling town centre we passed a statue of Robert Owen, Newtown's favourite son. Designed by Gilbert Bayes and erected in 1956 this rather sentimental statue of the Newtown-born industrialist and social reformer, stands in the tiny Robert Owen Memorial Garden.

Robert Owen (1771-1858)

Birthplace and Museum

Central Newtown has sufficient self-important buildings to ensure the town is not mistaken for an over-grown village. The HSBC building is a typical HSBC design, cut down to fit the corner plot, once occupied by Robert Owen’s birthplace.

HSBC, Newtown, on the site of Robert Owen's birthplace

The Cross Building on the junction of Broad and High Streets, was built to commemorate Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee in 1897. It was financed by Sarah Brisco of the Pryce family (of whom more later) who donated the clock to the people of Newtown in 1900. [Update: Barclays Bank were tenants from the start. They closed this branch just weeks after our visit].

The Cross Building, Newtown

Across Severn Street is Sarah Brisco House and the Robert Owen Memorial Museum.

Robert Owen Memorial Museum, Newtown

Born in 1771, Robert Owen had little formal education but was a voracious reader. Leaving school aged ten, he was apprenticed to a Lincolnshire draper and by the age of 23 was a partner in a Manchester mill.

Robert Owen's birthplace may have gone, but the museum preserves the doorknocker!

In the early 1790s he started thinking more about how workers were treated, developing progressive moral views.

Robert Owen

In the late 1790s he met David Dale, a Scottish entrepreneur and philanthropist, and the builder of the New Lanark mills in southern Scotland. We visited New Lanark, now a UNESCO World Heritage site) in 2021 (click here.) In 1799 he married Dale’s daughter and in 1800 took over New Lanark. Dale had been considered a model employer, but Owen went much further, putting limits on the hours and ages of child workers and ensuring they received an education. He introduced a standard eight-hour day and lobbied to have his reforms put into law. Prime Minister Robert Peel sympathised, but his ideas were too radical for the time.

Robert Owen and his reforms

Despite (or because of) the way he treated his workers he made a great deal of money. He sold New Lanark in 1825 and although his subsequent projects met with less success, his contributions to the founding of the cooperative movement and to trade unionism were of great importance. He was a visionary and a man ahead of his time.

St Mary’s Church, Robert Owen’s Grave and More

Although he lived most of his life in Scotland and England, Owen returned to Newtown at the end of his life and died here in November 1857. Despite declaring himself an atheist in 1817 and becoming a spiritualist in his 80s he was buried at St Mary’s Church a short walk from the museum.

Robert Owen's grave, St Mary's Church, Newtown

Nearby a plaque commemorates Thomas Powell, a chartist leader born in Newtown in 1802. Described as a ‘disciple of Robert Owen’ and ‘a fighter for political rights and equality’, he was imprisoned for his trouble in 1839-40. He died in Trinidad in 1862.

Thomas Powell's plaque, St Mary's Newtown

The Charter from which the Chartists took their name demanded six radical reforms:

1) A vote for every man aged twenty-one years and over.
2) A secret ballot.
3) No property qualification for Members of Parliament (MPs).
4) Payment of MPs enabling persons of modest means to become MPs.
5) Equal constituencies.
6) Annual Parliamentary elections.

Chartism was at its peak 1839-48 but faded away thereafter. All their outlandish demands were eventually met except No. 6 which still sounds outlandish.

St Mary’s Church served Newtown for 500 years, but being beside the river, flooding was a continual problem. Eventually, a new church was built and St Mary’s was abandoned in 1850. It is now a ruin, but has been stabilised.

St Mary's, Newtown

From St Mary's to the Textile Museum

Beside the Severn

Newtown’s textile museum was a 250m walk away. We set off from St Mary’s strolling along the bank of the Severn. The River Severn, shared between Wales and England, is Great Britain’s longest river, but at Newtown it is little more than a stream, being barely 30km (18 miles) into its 354km (220 mile) journey to the Bristol Channel.

Beside the Severn, Newtown

The Long Bridge

We crossed the river on the Long Bridge. A wooden bridge was built on this site in the 15th century and maintained by bequests in the wills of Newtown’s leading citizens. It survived the great flood of 1795 and was still in use, though somewhat rickety, in the early 19th century.

Long Bridge over the Severn, Newtown

In 1820, maintenance of roads and bridges became the responsibility of the County and the present bridge was constructed. It was barely adequate for the traffic of the mid-19th century and is even less adequate now – signs declare its feebleness in two languages. Drivers of heavy vehicles will be relieved that there is a modern bridge a short distance downstream.

Long Bridge, Newtown in 1880

The photo above was taken from the bridge looking past where I was standing. Newtown, give or take a line of parked cars and some signs, is still recognisable. The photo was borrowed from CountyTimes.co.uk and is part of the Powys Digital History Project.

A Scary Road Sign

Whether it is a 'Weak Bridge' or a 'Pont Wan', this long exiled, monolingual anglophone Welshman applauds the efforts made to keep the ancient language alive and well. Monolingual as I may be, I was brought up, mainly in England, by Welsh parents, and Lynne is Welsh, so I generally approach place names with reasonable confidence. I am unfazed by Llanelli (where Lynne was born), Ystradgynlais, Tonyrefail, or Machynlleth but the sign just over the bridge gave me pause for thought.

Scary sign, Newtown

Bilingual signage is inevitably asymmetric; all towns and villages have Welsh name (though some have been invented quite recently) but many places have never had an English name. Bettws Cedewain is no problem, ‘w’ is a vowel (sometimes) and ‘Bettws’ is pronounced ‘Bettus’ (simples!) but at first glance Llanllwchaearn appears to have six consecutive consonants followed by three consecutive vowels. By breaking it down into 3 syllables, remembering ‘w’ is a vowel, not sweating the terminal vowels - and pronouncing ‘ll’ as a voiceless lateral fricative (and we all know what one of those is) I triumphed-ish.

Newtown Textile Museum

Newtown’s Textile Museum occupies a weaving factory built in the 1830s. The lower storeys consist of three pairs of back-to-back weaver’s cottages. The upper storeys, were used for weaving, the large windows giving light to operate the hand-looms.

Newtown Textile Museum is the 4-storey red-brick building

Weavers' workshop, Manchester

There were many such factories here in the 19th century. Newtown was a weaving town, so Robert Owen’s switch from being a draper to manging mills seemed quite natural and the few surviving weaving factories in Manchester are similar in design. In Manchester and Lanark Owen was weaving cotton from the Americas, in Newtown it was locally sourced wool.

The lower floors give an idea of the basic, and rather cramped living conditions of the workers and their (often large) families…

…where women could earn money by spinning…

Weaver's cottage, Newtown Textile Musuem

…for the looms above.

Looms, Newtown Textile Musuem

There are also education facilities for guiding school parties through the whole process from sheep to cloth.

The top floor has the workshops of other forgotten occupations. There is a clog maker’s…

Clog makers, Newtown textile Museum

…and a draper’s shop, or is it a haberdasher? I looked them up. Draper: A person who sells textiles. Haberdasher: one who sells, needles, thread, buttons etc. (North American usages are different).

Drapers or Haberdashers? Newtown textile Museum

I am generally wary of textile museums. Across the world people are keen for us to watch them weaving, and even keener for us to buying something. Unfortunately, I have little interest in textiles, but they are often poor people, so we buy a gift for someone who doesn’t really want it. Newtown Textile Museum is not like that, it brings to life a period of the town’s history and is well worth a visit.

Newtown and the World of Retail

Sir Pryce Pryce-Jones

Pryce Jones was born near Newtown in 1834 and apprenticed to a local draper in 1845. He took over the business in 1856 and then started a new company under his own name, dealing in Welsh flannel. With an established national postal system and the arrival of the railway, he was able to set up a mail order business in Newtown, that not only numbered Florence Nightingale and Queen Victoria among its customers, but eventually shipped Welsh flannel across Europe and to America and Australia. In 1879 he built the Royal Welsh Warehouse which still stands next to the station. He became MP for Montgomery in 1885 and was knighted two years later as Sir Pryce Pryce-Jones. Apart from being the Jeff Bezos of Mid-Wales, in 1876 he patented the ‘Euklisia Rug’, the world’s very first sleeping-bag.

The Royal Welsh Warehouse, Newtown

Laura Ashley

Laura Ashley, whose designs are invariably described as ‘quintessentially English’ was actually Welsh. With husband Bernard Ashley she opened their first shop in Machynlleth in 1961 and built their first factory in Newtown. Then from Newtown to the world.

Dinner in Newtown on a Tuesday

Google maps suggests Newtown is replete with restaurants, but eliminating cafés, coffee shops and takeaways greatly reduces the possibilities for a drink and a sit-down dinner. On further investigation the remaining establishments were largely ‘closed: next open, Thursday 7 pm’.

One Italian restaurant was, apparently, open. After walking right across central Newtown (a short hike!) we found it too locked and unlit. Wandering around, we found several drinking-only pubs – once the norm, but no longer elsewhere – multiple takeaways but no restaurants. One pub sported a somewhat unappealing menu outside. We entered. It was large and not particularly crowded, but most unoccupied tables were piled with uncleared dirty dishes. We exited.

We hovered outside an Indian restaurant, but it appeared to lack a licence, and Lynne deserved a drink on her birthday. We popped into a Spar convenience store and purchased a bottle of Rioja, intending to pick up a takeaway and return to our B&B. Setting off on our quest, the proprietor had said we would be welcome to eat in the breakfast room and use their plates and cutlery. It had seemed an odd speech at the time, now we understood.

Fish King Souvlaki

Fish King is a chip shop, but we had seen has some positive comments about its Greek food on TripAdvisor.

Fish King the following morning with friendly proprietor toting a broom

By 7.45 the fish’n’chip rush had gone and the proprietor was happy to run us through his Greek options. We ordered a chicken souvlaki and fried chicken (the choice was chicken or chicken). Returning to the B&B felt like a defeat, it was too cold for the outside tables but he had one inside table. Sitting in splendour in the corner of a chip shop, we ate our chicken, drank our wine from borrowed mugs and provided a talking point for later customer.

Dining in Newtown's exclusive Fish King

It was wholesome, reasonably priced, and had some genuine Greek flavours. Being a chip shop, our meal came with pita bread and chips; the younger me would have eaten it all, but maturity means I  cannot manage so much carbohydrate so I left most of the chips. I had assumed the proprietor was a Greek Cypriot - there are many in the Fish and Chip trade - but he was actually Romanian and had learned to cook during a ten-year spell in Cyprus. An affable young man with a gift for languages and an entrepreneurial spirit, he deserves to do well.

In Conclusion

Despite initial misgivings there is plenty in and around Newtown to fill a day, and the people we met were all very pleasant. Do go and visit, but if you don’t fancy eating in the corner of a chip shop, go at the weekend.

The Plague Village of Eyam and Stella's Kitchen

A Village of Self-Sacrifice and a Unique Restaurant

The Idea

Derbyshire

In April 2020, when the Covid lockdown was at its most Draconian, I posted Swynnerton: A Village in Lockdown. I thought at the time it would be interesting, when this was all over, to visit Eyam and see how their experience of the plague compared with our experience of Covid.

The idea went on the back burner for a while. Then my friend Brian pointed me towards an episode of the Hairy Bikers Go North which featured Stella’s Kitchen, just outside Eyam. A historical trip with a special lunch seemed an ideal birthday day out, and so it became.

The Peak District

Although it is less than 45 miles from home, the journey to Eyam takes an hour and a half. The village is in the Derbyshire Dales, in the heart of the Peak District, Britain’s oldest National Park…

The Peak District and Eyam

… and roads in National Parks are not engineered for speed.

A Peak District major road - and there are many lanes

We crossed the southern end of the Peak District, known as the White Peak, a limestone upland riven with deep valleys. In summer it can look colourful and bucolic, but in the winter it becomes muddy and monochrome.

The White Peak, drystone walls and green fields

The north end, the Dark Peak consists of moorland over Gritstone so it looks wild (and muddy) all year round. A few hills rise from both the limestone and gritstone (see Shutlingsloe; Cowpat Walk 5) but despite the name, the Peak district has little in the way of peaks.

Eyam

Eyam is a large village with almost 1,000 inhabitants. As so often in Peak District villages, houses have dark stone walls and dark slate roofs. They do not look their best when the weather is wet or gloomy, but on a sunny summer’s day, festooned with hanging baskets, they are a delight,

Eyam (a photo with no hanging baskets and four empty window boxes!)

Tax records suggest the population in the 17th century was about 750. The population of many Peak District villages has dwindled over the last couple of centuries as traditional industries have disappeared. Eyam’s lead mines have long been worked out, cottage industries like shoemaking and wool and silk weaving moved into factories in towns, even the dairy industry has departed looking (quite literally) for greener pastures than Eyam's cool climate and poor soil can provide.

But tourism has seen Eyam buck the trend; it is not just another pretty Peak District village, it is a plague village with a unique story.

Bubonic Plague

Originating, probably in China, around 1330, the Black Death moved westward. Medieval people travelled less and more slowly than we do, Covid took weeks to reach Wolverhampton from Wuhan, the Black Death took 16 years to arrive in what is now Türkiye. Spread within Europe was faster, the disease reaching these islands in 1349. It died away in 1351 after killing 25-30% of Europe’s entire population.

It died away but never disappeared, a second outbreak in England ten years later killed a further 700,000 out of a surviving population of 2.5 million.

Sporadic outbreaks continued across Europe for the next 500 years. In London in 1592-3 the plague, as it was now called, killed 20,000 and closed the theatres. Shakespeare fled to Stratford and wrote 5 plays, though not his best, those came later. A major outbreak hit London in 1665. It took a while for the news to reach Eyam, and when it did, they saw in reason to worry. London is 140 miles away, surely a safe distance.

The Plague Comes to Eyam

In early September 1665 a parcel of clothes sent from London was delivered to Alexander Hadfield, the village tailor. He lived a cottage near the church with his wife, Mary, Edward and Jonathan Cooper, her two sons from a previous marriage, and his assistant/servant George Viccars.

The package was opened by Viccars on the 6th of September. Some stories say he found the clothes damp, so hung them up to dry. Whether he did, or not, Viccars soon showed symptoms of plague, and was dead by the end of the next day. Four-year-old Edward and twelve-year-old Jonathan died within weeks. Alexander Hadfield, avoided infection then, but succumbed later in the outbreak. Mary Hadfield survived though she lost 13 relatives. The house became known as ‘Plague Cottage.;

Plague Cottage, Eyam

Plague also cut a swathe through their neighbours. At Rose cottage, next-door Thomas and Mary Thorpe and all their seven children would die…

Rose Cottage, Eyam

…on the other side Peter Hawksworth and his son Humphrey died at the start of the outbreak. Peter’s wife, Jane, survived but lost 25 relatives.

The Hawksworth Cottage, Eyam

Plague: How not to Catch it and How to Cure it if you Do

In the 17th century diseases were thought to be caused by miasma, bad air that could be detected by its evil smell. To protect themselves people would carry posies of sweet-smelling flowers or smoke a pipe and surround themselves with a cloud of tobacco smoke.

But these methods did not even address the right problem. The plague is actually a disease of fleas. The disease killed the rats they usually fed on, so they moved on to humans, it killed the humans too and then it killed the fleas.

Ring-a-ring o' roses,
A pocket full of posies,
A-tishoo! A-tishoo!
We all fall down

Eyam’s plague museum resides in the former Methodist chapel. Putting a bacillus on display is not practicable, so it is, inevitably, a little short on artefacts, but its plentiful and excellent explanation is a major source for what follows.

Eyam plague museum

One artefact it does have, however, is a plague doctor’s suit, recently made to the traditional design. I am not sure how realistic his height is, but the beak would have been stuffed with posies to minimise any chance of breathing in the deadly miasma.

Lynne and the Plague Doctor, Eyam Musuem

The suit looks less bizarre when compared with some suggested treatments. If there do a blotch appear; take a pigeon and pluck the feathers off her tail, very bare, and set her tail to the sore, and she will draw out the venom till she die; then take another and set her likewise, continuing so till all the venom be drawn out, which you shall see by the pigeons, for they will all die with the venom as long as there is any; also a chicken or hen is very good. (thanks to the Museum for that).

Covid is different, spreading either through contact with droplets or inhalation of aerosol (an odourless miasma!) expelled by sufferers’ coughs and sneezes. Masks, social distancing and sanitisation of hands and anything they would touch are the best preventions. Most of us dutifully followed the instructions, and they were effective - up to a point.

Treatment came from a growing list of anti-viral drugs like remdesivir and dexamethasone (who makes these names up?) but the game changers were the vaccines.

It is easy to mock the long beaks and plucked pigeons of the 1660s, but they did their best, given the knowledge of the time; they had no drugs, and no concept of vaccines. It is tempting to mock those, mainly in the USA, who chose their treatment for political rather than medical reasons; no masks, no vaccines, and plenty of ivermectin – very effective against parasites, but no more use against Covid than a bare-arsed pigeon. Some died for their beliefs, their choice, I suppose, but their arrogant selfishness was a danger to all. It is wholly appropriate to mock our (thankfully ex) prime minster, who made the Covid rules but felt little need to follow them himself, and still does not understand what he did wrong.

Stella’s Kitchen

It is time to break for lunch.

Stella used to work for the UN, married a Peak district man and 14 years ago came to live just outside Eyam. Originally from Cameroon she joined the church to become part of the community, started taking food to sharing lunches and now has the Peak District's only restaurant serving African and Caribbean food. It is not entirely a conventional restaurant.

Stella's Kitchen, Eyam

Stella featured in the Hairy Bikers Go North (part 7). The link is to the BBC iPlayer and Stella’s section starts at 21 minutes. iPlayer is only available in the UK (I think) and this series of the Hairy Bikers is available only until mid-November 2022.

There is a limited lunch menu – we went for the meat platter – and on this day a limited clientele, we were the only customers. Stella has no alcohol licence; you can take your own, but I was driving and we decided to stick to her hibiscus brew, nostalgically reminiscent of the karkadeh we used to drink in Sudan all those years ago (1987 to be precise).

A glass of sorrel/folere/bissap - and other names

The meat platter has pork, chicken (cooked from scratch while we waited), fried plantain and ‘spinach supreme’. The meat was top quality and superbly cooked. I thoroughly enjoyed it all, but was mildly disappointed by the shortage of ‘unfamiliar African flavours,’ perhaps Stella plays safe at lunchtime. The evening buffet offers mores choice and things with unfamiliar names, so perhaps we should go and spend a night in Eyam sometime soon. It was my birthday, so I got a picture with the lady herself.

Me, Stella and the meat platter

Meanwhile, Back in Eyam

After 30 deaths in September/October 1665, the disease abated. There were deaths every month, but never more than a handful until spring 1666 when they started rising again.

Despite the miasma orthodoxy, it was obvious the disease spread from person to person. The plague had largely been contained in London, but the Eyam outbreak could potentially spread it much further.

Some villagers looked to the vicar, William Mompesson, for leadership but the monarchy had been restored only 5 years previously after 11 years of the puritan Commonwealth, so Mompesson approached Eyam’s former minister Thomas Stanley. Although Mompesson had replaced Stanley after the ‘Great Ejection’ of puritan ministers in 1662, the two agreed to work together for the greater good.

The finest artefact in the museum is a carved wooden bench dated 1664 bearing the names of William Mompesson and his wife Catherine. I am not sure it is best shown off in a tableau.

The Mompesson's bench, Eyam museum

They decided to put the village under, what we would might now call ‘lockdown’ until the disease burnt itself out. Catherine Mompesson could have left before the lockdown was announced in May 1666, but chose to stay and help her husband.

Under the new arrangement families were to bury their own dead wherever they could. Most were marked with nothing more permanent than a cross scratched on a stone.

Grave marker, Eyam Museum

Only one stone with a name is known to exist. The gravestone of one-year-old Alice Rag (or Wragg) was found beneath the floor of the post office during renovations in the 1960s.

Headstone of Alice (W)rag(g), Eyam Musuem

Church services were moved out of the church into a nearby natural amphitheatre to allow for what we have learned to call ‘social distancing’.

The entire village was quarantined. Supplies was sent by merchants from surrounding villages who left them on marked boundary stone. Holes were bored in the stones and filled with vinegar to disinfect coins left in payment.

The Survivors and the Dead

Deaths peaked in August when over 70 died, but by November 1666 the disease had burnt itself out. The plague in London had already been stopped in its tracks by the cleansing effect of the Great Fire of London which started today in 1666.

William Mompesson listed the deaths of 278 people, over a third of the village’s population. It is sobering to read the names of the dead. John Naylor, Ruth Talbot, Anne Chapman, Matthew Elliott all died of plague in June 1666, but they could well be the names of those who died of Covid in June 2020.

Nobody fully understands why some died and some lived through it untouched. Elizabeth Hancock was never uninfected despite burying her six children and husband in eight days. Marcus Howe, the village gravedigger handled dozens of infected corpses but came to no harm. Thomas Stanley and William Mompesson survived, Catherine Mompesson died on the 25th of August. She alone of that cohort is buried in Eyam churchyard.

The tomb of Catherine Mompesson

Led by Mompesson and Stanley, the people of Eyam made a remarkable and selfless sacrifice, but their deaths were not in vain, the disease spread no further.

And That’s the End of the Plague?

Photographs (though not the text) from here on are non-plague related photos of Eyam, it isn't all about death and disease.

Bubonic Plague has not revisited these islands since the end of the Eyam outbreak. The last outbreak in western Europe was in the 1700s. So, it’s all over, isn’t it?

Unfortunately not. Worldwide there are 1,000 – 2000 cases reported every year. Adding in unreported case, 5,000 seems a reasonable estimate with well over 100 deaths.

Eyam Hall, right in the centre of the village
Built by the Wright family in 1672. They still live there

And it does not only happen in places so eloquently described by the charming ex-president of the United States as ‘shit-hole countries'.

We spent the academic year 1983-4 in the USA living in Washington (the western state not the eastern city). One day local news reported the death from plague of a man in the city of Yakima. Yakima was 120 miles away, as the crow flies, and the other side of the Cascade Mountains, but it felt too close.

During our Spring Break perambulations, we parked our tent for a night in the Lava Beds National Monument in northern California. Signs all around the campground said (these may not be the exact words) ‘Our chipmunks look cute, but do not be tempted to pet them, they carry plague.’ We spent the next night in a motel in Klamath Falls, Oregon, partly to avoid the plague and partly because spring in northern California was so very much colder than our naive expectation.

Laburnum Cottage Eyam, mainly 18th century, but in part the oldest inhabited building
in the village. How old? Nobody's telling.

Plague still has to be watched carefully, the death rate for untreated victims, like those at Eyam is 30%-60%. It is caused by a bacterium, not a virus, so the disease can be effectively treated with antibiotics, lowering the death rate to 1%-15%. There is also a vaccine.

So Would you Prefer Plague, Covid or Cake?

Cake, thank you very much, but if it has to be a disease…..

8th Century cross, Eyam churchyard. Labelled as Celtic (seems unlikely) others
say the style is typical of the Kingdom Mercia (and Eyam was then in northern Mercia)

…we survived Covid in reasonable comfort. With no jobs to lose and a stable income, our only privation was having to cancel various trips around this country and beyond. We cancelled our holiday in Ukraine saying we would do it when Covid was over – or so we thought!. Others had a harder time, I know, but….

The village green and the stocks, Eyam

… we are all 21st century softies. I wonder how many would survive the discomfort, the dirt, the monotonous food and the inability to switch on a light or a heater when needed, never mind the plague. We are used to 21st century comfort and 21st century medical care and nobody in 17th century Eyam cancelled a holiday abroad, or had even dreamed of such a thing existing.

12th century font, Eyam Church

So the question is meaningless, and the answer remains, cake.

Dinner at the Olive Tree, Queensberry Hotel, Bath

A Dinner of Many Delights in a Historic Setting

This post contains some pictures of Bath (at the end) but is mainly a restaurant review. Those more interested in the city of Bath should click here.

26-July-2022

47 years of marriage has turned these young people…

Wedding Day, July 1975

…into these crumblies.

Tweedledum and Alice's Granma

Crumbling is hardly a cause for celebration, but celebrate it we do, and this year we set out for Bath to dine in their very bestest restaurant (well, the only one with a Michelin Star).

Bath and the Queensberry Hotel

Bath is, of course, much older than we are, but unlike us, it shows no sign of crumbling​. The finest of English cities; a complete and carefully planned Georgian city, with medieval and Roman inclusions, Bath is a delight.

The location of Bath in North East Somerset

Somerset

Bath

We stayed at the Queensberry Hotel. According to the hotel’s blog the commissioner and original owner of the property, the 8th Marquess of Queensberry who had the townhouses built in 1771, would be proud of the namesake hotel.

Yes, but the 8th Marquess was born in 1818. His son, the 9th Marquess was responsible for boxing’s Queensberry rules and later goaded Oscar Wilde into the libel action that led to his imprisonment, but 1771 was the time of the 5th Marquess, land and racehorse owner and a dissolute gambler. Maybe he commissioned the building, but I cannot be certain.

The Queensberry Hotel, Bath

The signage is very restrained for a major hotel.

The Olive Tree Restaurant

The Olive Tree is a restaurant within the hotel. Cardiff-born head chef Chris Cleghorn has been in post since 2013. He credits his professional development to time spent with (among others) Heston Blumenthal, Adam Simmonds and particularly Michael Caines at Gidleigh Park. He won a Michelin star in 2018 and has maintained it through the last few difficult years.

He offers nine or six-course tasting menu. Back in the days when I could have eaten nine courses, I could not afford it, now I can I am struggling to eat even six. They are small dishes, but there are a lot of them. He also has vegetarian, vegan, pescatarian and dairy-free menus for those who need/prefer them.

The Six

We took our aperitif in the walled garden outside the bar. Once we had finished our drink and watched a hot air balloon pass over our heads we made our way down to the restaurant.

A G&T and a hot air balloon

Course One: Raw Orkney Scallop, Wasabi, Granny Smith Apple, Dill

Lynne loves a scallop, but since 2005, when Claude Bosi served her raw scallops cooked at the table by the magic of warm bouillon, every other chef who essays a scallop dish has been playing catch-up.

Eschewing Bosi’s minimalism, Chris Cleghorn put together a collection of flavours which might be expected to drown out the delicate scallop and then go to war with each other, but they didn’t. Served in a scallop shell on a bed of seaweed, the small pieces of scallop were book-ended by blobs the colour and texture of mayonnaise but with the flavour of wasabi, though without the heat. At the table, a spoonful of Granny Smith granita was deposited over the green liquid in the shell and melted quietly into it. Chilled, sweet, sharp, apple and fennel flavours melded happily with the wasabi and scallop; a complex and very clever dish. Lynne's second favourite scallop dish ever.

Scallop, wasabi, Granny Smith and dill

Matched wine: 2018 Rheinhessen Reisling, Weingut Winter.

Many years ago, German wines were imported in vast quantities, much of it from Hessen and labelled Liebfraumilch, or Niersteiner. It was cheap, slightly sweet and with a flavour of elderflowers. Then tastes matured and fashions changed. This dry, gently acidic, apple/citrus/mineral Riesling was perfect for its job and a world away from the cheap Hessen wines of yore. I wish such wines were more widely available, but they are tainted by association with the past.

Course 2: Veal Sweetbread, Gem Lettuce, Westcombe Ricotta, Hazelnut and Salted Lemon

This was a marvel in two parts. To the left the heart of a little gem lettuce studded with hazelnuts and smeared with Ricotta and salted lemon. The ‘Ricotta’ came from Westcombe Dairy, 20 miles to the south, who produce traditional farmhouse cheddar and use the left-over whey to make whey cheese. They have based their recipe on ricotta, the best-known whey cheese, and use that name though they are ultimately aiming for an unmistakeable West Country product. I don’t usually see the point of lettuce, but this, finished with a hazelnut vinaigrette, was intensely savoury; a little gem in more ways than one.

Lynne with a sweetbread and a gem lettuce

The sweetbread was lightly dusted with flour and cooked to perfection. Crisped on the top edge firm, yet yielding inside. I like sweetbreads but they turn up too rarely on British menus. I have eaten them in Egypt, Canada and closer to home in Gloucestershire, but never one as superbly cooked as this.

One quibble, the two parts of the dish felt rather separate. They did not work against each other, but neither did I feel they really formed a team - a thought reinforced by the plate design..

Matched wine: Blankbottle Familiemoord

Winemaker Pieter Hauptfleisch Walser’s Blankbottle labels are his way of showcasing the best vineyards he has discovered on his South African travels. They are one-offs with a label showing only a quirky name, though this is known to be a Grenache from Swartland. Served chilled it had a pleasant nose, gentle tannin but the finish was short. Grenache usually forms part of blend, and with good reason, I found this slightly disappointing.

Bread

At this point bread arrived. It always does in these meals and I never know why. The courses may be small, but there is plenty of them and I feel no need to fill up on bread - even a bread as good as this. They were rye buns, we were told, but I have never encountered rye so light in colour or weight. We shared one, out of a spirit of enquiry, but left the other, excellent though it was.

Bread!

Course 3: Cornish Monkfish, cooked over coal, leek, ginger, Vin Jaune, sea herbs.

Monkfish has a strange texture and I am never quite sure what the cook is aiming at, though this, surely was tougher and chewier than intended. Neither of us liked the Vin Jaune sauce much either.

Monkfish and Vin Jaune sauce

The little cylinders of leek, though were soft and packed with flavour. The ginger had been toned down – fresh ginger, much as I love it, would have overwhelmed the dish - to just the right note.

Matched wine:2019 Domaine de L’Idylle ‘Cuvee Emilie', Rousette, Savoie

A full-bodied wine considering its mountain origins. Some oak age apparent, good acidity, not a great deal of fruit flavour but perfect for the job it was chosen for.

Course 4:Squab pigeon, celeriac, black truffle, long pepper 

It is an age since I had a good pigeon breast, and this was as good as they come. The skin was cooked, the inside hardly at all, leaving it tender and tasty. I liked the Madeira sauce, but I find celeriac deeply uninteresting. Chris Cleghorn has a way with vegetables but even he cannot put excitement into a wedge of celeriac. The truffle was in the very pleasing blob at the front, and the long pepper..? It is, I read, slightly spicier than black pepper and has a long cylindrical peppercorn. I am uncertain as to its contribution here.

Pigeon

Matched Wine: 2012 Marqués de Zearra Rioja Gran Reserva

I was slightly miffed at Tyddyn Llan in North Wales in 2018 when at the apex of the multi-course meal they produced a Rioja Crianza when a reserva would, I thought, have been more appropriate. No such problem here, the Olive Tree gave us a gran reserve. Oaky and tannic enough to deal with the pigeon, and yet with ample fruit on the velvety finish. Excellent.

Course 5: Islands chocolate, yoghurt sorbet, perilla, Manni Olive oil.

At the base was a disc of Islands chocolate. Islands is a London chocolatier and the disc was 75% cocoa solids. Very rich chocolate-based dishes can be overwhelming and Lynne felt a little over-chocolated here. I liked the disc, with its tempered shell and different textures inside but it needed the yoghurt sorbet with its chill and acidity to provide balance. Perilla is a family of east Asian plants, some with culinary uses and with a flavour halfway between basil and mint (perhaps with a little liquorice). I am unsure about the contribution of the small slick of high-quality olive oil.

Islands Chocolate with yoghurt sorbet

Matched wine: Bodegas Hidalgo Alameda Cream Jerez

Raisins, nuts and intense sweetness. Wonderful stuff – in small quantities.

Course 6: Cheddar Valley Strawberries, coconut, Szechuan, basil

Maybe I had enjoyed too much wine, but for a moment I expected the strawberries to be cheesy. In fact, they were fine strawberries at the peak of their ripeness and completely fromage-free. The duvet of coconut (and it could have been coconuttier for my taste) was studded with marsh mallows. We were promised Szechuan grains, but the lip tingling sensation of Szechuan pepper never came. It was a very pleasant final dish, but a little tame.

Strawberries

Matched wine: 2018 Gusborne Rosé, Kent

I have been slow to recognise the quality of English sparkling wines but realised some months ago that Kent sparklers could be exceptional. This was our first Kent rosé sparkler. ‘Strawberries’ we said simultaneously after the first sip. To quote the growers, the palate shows bright red fruits, driven by ripe strawberries, fresh cherries and redcurrants, with a crisp freshness and creamy, rounded texture on the finish. That about covers it.

Our anniversary dinner ended with a chocolatey message.

Chocolate-y message

It had been a long dinner of great variety and technical skill, impeccably served. The Granny Smith granita melting into the fennel, the sweetbread and the pigeon breast had stood out. The monkfish was less successful, but I would have been disappointed if there was nothing to quibble about. The wine flight was the best chosen and highest quality of any we have encountered. In some places the quality has failed to match the hefty price, but not here.

27-July-2022

Breakfast

What does a breakfast look like when prepared in a Michelin starred kitchen? It is a fair question and the answer is that there are choices, but for many it looks much like breakfast in any B&B, even down to the brown sauce. It is, perhaps, a little more carefully arranged on the plate and it will never look greasy, but otherwise…

Breakfast

What sets this apart from all but the best B&Bs is the quality of the ingredients. The bacon and sausage does not leave a watery deposit when grilled, the mushroom has not just been sprung from a catering pack. The provenance of all the components is known, almost to the field.

Bath

Before departing we took a short walk. As I said at the start, I have a dedicated Bath post from 2013, but I could not ignore our surroundings completely.

The Circus

Designed by John Woods (the Elder) in 1750 and finished a decade later by his son, John Woods (the Younger) the Circus is a design in elegant living. That it produces the same road lay-out as would later be co-opted by the relentlessly functional roundabout is an irony. A circle of houses is difficult to photograph, as I noticed last time I was here.

The Circus, Bath

Many of the surrounding roads are, in their own way, perfect, but sometimes it feels as though in Bath it is easier to buy a work of art than a scrubbing bush.

Another perfect Bath Street

The Royal Crescent

Perfectest of all is JW the Younger’s Royal Crescent.

The Royal Crescent, Bath

In the centre is the Royal Crescent Hotel. I thought the signage at the Queensberry was restrained, here it is so restrained as to be absent.

The door to the Royal Crescent Hotel (middle of picture)

Though the cars parked nearby give it away.

I could afford the Honda!

I like the way the BMW seems to stand deferentially behind the Bentley and Rolls Royce, while the cheerful little Honda poses confidently at the front.

A basic room at the Royal Crescent costs over 50% more than at the Queensberry, but their six-course tasting menu is a little cheaper – because they do not have a Michelin starred chef.

The final picture of Bath (for this visit)

Enough petty points scoring, we will leave Bath with the pretty picture above.

'Fine Dining' posts

Abergavenny and the Walnut Tree (2010)
Ludlow and La Bécasse (2011) (restaurant closed, post withdrawn)
Ilkley and The Box Tree(2012)
Pateley Bridge and the Yorke Arms (2013) (No longer a restaurant, post renamed Parceval Gardens and Pateley Br)
The Harrow at Little Bedwyn (2014)
The Slaughters and the Lords of the Manor (2015)
Loam, Fine Dining in Galway (2016)
Penarth and Restaurant James Sommerin (2017) (restaurant closed, post withdrawn. JS has a new restaurant in Penarth)
The Checkers, Montgomery (2017) (no longer a restaurant, post withdrawn. Now re-opened under new management)
Tyddyn Llan, Llandrillo, Denbighshire (2018)
Fischer's at Baslow Hall, Derbyshire (2019)
Hambleton Hall, Rutland (2021)
The Olive Tree, Queensberry Hotel, Bath (2022)
Dinner at Pensons near Tenbury Wells (2023) (restaurant closed Dec 2023, post withdrawn)
The Cross, Kenilworth (& Kenilworth Castle) 2024