Llangollen: Dee Valley Part 2

Now Home to the International Eisteddfod and Formerly to the Ladies of Llangollen

Wales

Denbighshire

With almost 4,000 inhabitants, Llangollen is a small town in Denbighshire, North Wales, that sits beside the River Dee. It has been a tourist destination since at least 1811, the date that ‘tourist’ first appeared in print describing people travelling for pleasure.

The town’s name has two of those pesky double ll sounds. Visitors pronouncing Llangollen as Thlan-gothlen will at least get credit for trying (though this advice is of little use to speakers of the many languages lacking a ‘th sound.’)

Llangollen in Denbighshire

06-Sept-2023

Llangollen International Eisteddfod

The Dee Bridge and Llangollen Railway

We had arrived yesterday afternoon (see Pontcysyllte and Chirk Castle) so we were already orientated and decided to stroll up to the Royal International Pavilion, though the events there in July are more interesting than the structure itself.

We crossed the River Dee…

Crossing Llangollen bridge

...over the four-arched bridge built in 1345 to replace an earlier wooden structure. It has been much modified, and its origins are hardly visible in the picture above, though a side view shows the typically medieval pointed arches.

Side View of Llangollen Bridge

Turning left after the railways station we strolled down Trevor Road.

Llangollen Railway Station

The Llangollen Railway starts at the bridge and follows the lush, green Dee Valley, terminating at Corwen, 15km away. The old-style signals, and the steam engines – not that I caught one in the photo - indicate this is a Heritage Railway, run by a charity and manned by volunteers.

A pair of quavers set into the flagstones told us we were on the way to the Pavilion.

Two quavers show the way, Llangollen

Looking up we could see dwellings in the green hills that define the Dee Valley.

The green hills of the Dee Valley

Llangollen Canal and the Royal International Pavilion

Where the road veers close to the Llangollen canal, here navigable by nothing bigger than a kayak, we moved across to walk back along the towpath…

Llangollen canal

…paused to enjoy the reflections in the water…

Reflections, Llangollen canal

…and soon reached the Royal International Pavilion.

Royal International Pavilion, Llangollen

It may not be that impressive from this angle, but could accommodating the whole population of Llangollen, should that ever be required. More importantly it is also the main stage of the Llangollen International Eisteddfod, which for some raises the question…

What is an Eisteddfod?

An Eisteddfod (pronounced eye-steth-vod) is a Welsh cultural festival involving poetry, music (especially harp and choral music), storytelling and dance. Although festive in nature, Eisteddfodau (the plural is pronounced eye-steth-vod-eye) are competitive, with prizes (usually just a certificate) awarded for different disciplines and age groups. Singing and spoken word competitions are in the Welsh language.

There are many eisteddfodau every year, some small and local, others of national significance. Major eisteddfodau culminate with the chairing of the bard (the winning poet) with ‘druidic’ ceremony. This version of Welsh culture, inspired by the writings of Iolo Morganwg in the 1790s and formalised in the 19th century by people like William Price (see Manchester, Llantrisant and Beijing) is largely romantic nonsense, though at the time an understandable reaction to the increasing anglicisation of Wales. There are two major events The National Eisteddfod of Wales, first held in its modern form in 1861 has a different venue every year, while the other major event is….

The Llangollen International Eisteddfod?

Held every year since 1947 (Covid-blighted 2020 apart), the festival was established after the war to promote peace and cultural understanding by bringing together singers, dancers, and musicians from around the world to compete and perform. They also have major international guests like Anoushka Shankar, Rolando Villazón or Sir Bryn Terfel (an international star and a local) and, diversifying from the festival’s folk/classical roots, Nile Rogers and Van Morrison.

Heading back into town

Plas Newydd and the Ladies of Llangollen

Crossing back over the river, we walked south through the town…

Walking south through Llangollen

…to Plas Newydd.

Plas Newydd Llangollen

‘The Ladies of Llangollen’ – locally ‘The Ladies’ - were two aristocratic Irish women who lived at Plas Newydd for 50 years from 1780.

They were:-

Lady Eleanor Butler (1739-1829), daughter of the Earl of Ormonde of Castle Butler, Kilkenny. Educated in France, her family thought her ‘an over-educated bookworm.’

and

Sarah Ponsonby (1755-1831), daughter of an MP in the Irish Parliament. Orphaned as a child, Sarah lived with relatives in County Kilkenny.

The two women first met in 1768 and formed a close friendship. Over several years they developed a plan to seek a rural retreat where they could live an unorthodox life together. To avoid being forced into unwanted marriages they attempted to leave Kilkenny together in 1778 but were soon found and forced to return home. Some months later, accompanied by Sarah’s maid Mary Caryll, they left again, this time with their families’ acquiescence, if not blessing.

They crossed the Irish Sea and toured Wales, reaching Llangollen in 1780 where they bought Plas Newydd.

A bedroom Plas Newydd

Despite spending their days improving their home, walking in its grounds, planning their garden, reading and writing, but rarely going out, they somehow caught the public imagination.

The Ladies collected fireplaces and other dark wood carvings from all over the region

Visitors began to arrive. There were poets including Keats, Shelley and Byron; Lady Caroline Lamb (a distant cousin of Sarah’s) came separately from Byron; Josiah Wedgwood visited, as did his son-in-law Robert Darwin with his son Charles; the Duke of Wellington called to see them and so did Anne (Gentlemen Jack) Lister, from Halifax.

Stained glass window, Plas Newydd

Visitors were entertained and (mostly) charmed by the ladies, and in the evening sent off to stay at The Hand Hotel in Llangollen.

Servant's bedroom, Plas Newydd

For a remarkable insight into their lives, I recommend The Ladies who were Famous for Wanting to be Left Alone by American writer/academic Patricia Hampl. It can be found on Longreads by clicking the link. (it is not a very long read - 20 minutes well spent, I thought.)

A magnificently carved something, Plas Newydd

Most accounts tell upbeat tales of two women overcoming difficulties to find happiness together. There is, however, an aspect to the story Patrica Hampl mentions but briefly and others ignore. Most reports give dates of birth and death, but the eye easily glosses over those numbers. Wikipedia says the two women first met in 1768 but Butler was 29, Ponsonby only 13; two women did not meet, a women met a girl.

They left Kilkenny in 1778 to avoid being forced into unwanted marriages. For the 22-year-old Ponsonby this may have been a real concern, but at 39 Butler had probably already won that battle.

It seems The ladies kept a good table and dined well at Plas Newydd

Finally, Butler died in 1829 aged 90 whilst Ponsonby died just two years later aged 76, as though she could not cope without the woman she had depended on for so long.

On the other hand, although Eleanor was apparently the dominant partner, she was not so dominant it disrupted the ‘deep mutual respect and affection that characterised their life together.’

This signed card shows them in the riding habits top hats they affected.
Though comfortable and practical, they were undoubtedly eccentric

Today same-sex relationships are accepted, but the start of their relationship would raise ‘safeguarding issues.’ Most would agree such ‘grooming’ should lead to interventions, and their lives may then have taken very different courses. I wonder, though, whether it would have made them happier. As Danish philosopher Søren Kierkegaard observed, Life can only be understood backwards, but it must be lived forwards.

National Eisteddfod of Wales

Within sight of Plas Newydd is a stone circle. Over a thousand stone circles survive in Britain and Ireland from the Neolithic and early Bronze Ages, but this is not one of them.

Not an ancient stone circle, Llangollen

Eisteddfodau are as old as Wales, but the cod druidic ceremonial surrounding the Chairing of the Bard at the National Eisteddfod is a romantic 19th century notion of the past. The ceremony requires a stone circle, so one is built for the occasion, and usually left behind as a memento. Llangollen held the event in 1908, We saw another one in 2018 in Beaumaris on the Island of Anglesey. That post also has a bigger and grander 'Plas Newydd.'

St Collen’s Church

It is a short walk from Plas Newydd…

An old man taking a short plod in Llangollen

… to St Collen’s Church.

St Collen's Church, Llangollen

Llangollen means ‘the church of Collen’ a monk who allegedly arrived by coracle sometime in the 6th or 7th century and built a church. It is the only church dedicated to St Collen, though, Colan in Cornwall has a church of St Colanus, and there is a village of Langolen in Finistère, Brittany. He was a well-travelled monk.

In the 13th century, a new church was built on this site in Early English Gothic style. It was altered over the centuries and heavily restored in the 19th. A Grade I listed building, its hammerbeam roof is of particular note.

Hammerbeam roof, St Collen's, Llangollen

Mary Carryl died in 1808 and The Ladies buried her here with a fulsome eulogy. What Mary Carryl gained from this relationship, during her long and loyal service is unknown, but they treated her with great respect after she died.

Mary Carryl's stone, St Collen's, Llangollen

They followed in 1829 and 1831, sharing the plot and the memorial.

The graves of The Ladies and their servant

Unlike the Church of England, the Church in Wales was dis-established (hence the ‘in; rather and ‘of’) in 1920. A century later, they took advantage of being an independent member of the Anglican Community to permit the blessing of same-sex partnerships, thus dipping a toe (maybe more) into the 21st century while the C of E continues to vacillate. Appropriately the first such blessing was conducted in St Collen’s Church in 2021 by the Bishop of St Asaph. It was not conducted by the Vicar of Llangollen as he was half of the partnership being blessed.

Lynne’s Birthday Dinner

In the evening, we made the short walk to The Three Eagles in Bridge Street where we started with crusty bread, olive oil and balsamic vinegar. Such things were once unknown in rural Wales but times have changed.

A gin, some crusty bread and something to dip it in

We had chosen the Eagles mainly because it offered Stanley Jones Butchers 28-day aged Welsh rump steak. We both like an occasional steak, and two have stuck in my mind as nearing perfection. In Madeira, festa syle steak was utterly lovely (see Madeira: Eating and Drinking) while in 2007 the Abercrave (sic) Inn in Abercraf at the other end of Wales, served a rump of Welsh Black that looked bog-standard pub steak, but was actually sublime. The Jones Family raise Welsh Blacks just 4 miles from Llangollen.

I ordered my steak rare, but by altering the 'saturation' I can make it look anything from well done to raw.

And very good it was, too, though it did not quite squeeze into my very short list of Platonic Ideals. I am not sure the confit cherry tomatoes were the best accompaniment, but the chips (there are always chips) were fine and the meat was (almost) as good as it gets.

07-Sept-2023

Llangollen lacks a castle of its own, but during our wanderings we had a clear view of Castell Dinas Brân (Crow Castle) to the north of the town.

Castell Dinas Brân from beside the Dee in Llangollen

It seemed a good idea to take a look before heading home. As the crow flies, the castle is little over a kilometre from Llangollen Bridge, but the walking routes were not designed by or for crows. Also, the castle is almost 300m (980ft) above the town and the last section is very steep.

Fortunately, a minor road burrows into the hills, rounds the castle to the less steep side and passes a footpath only a 100m (330ft) below the summit.

The easy path to Castell Dinas Brân, though it is still over the hill and out of sight

Leaving the car in the parking space beside the Offa’s Dyke footpath we struggled upwards. Cameras flatten out slopes, but that does not make them easier to walk up.

Lynne struggles up towards Castell Dinas Brân

We looked down on the car, but although it is on the line of Offa’s Dyke there no dyke to see here.

Cars are parked on the left, two thirds of the way up photo. There is no sign of a dyke

Approaching the castle we passed through a gate appropriately crowned with a crow.

Fine crow, Castell Dinas Brân

The Kingdom of Powys once ruled most of what is now East Wales. There is an unbroken regnal list from the departure of the Romans in 430 up to 855, though some of the earlier rulers are ‘semi-legendary’ and their dates are best guesses.

Made it to the top! Castell Dinas Brân

Offa built his eponymous dyke around 780 to protect his Kingdom of Mercia from marauders from the west. In the 9th century Mercia was absorbed by Wessex and then became part of a newly united England in 937. In 855 Powys was annexed by the Kingdom of Gwynedd.

Llangollen from Castell Dinas Brân

While England united, Wales fractured. The 11th century saw the return of not one Kingdom of Powys but two, one northern, one southern. Unity is strength, and it was the Welsh kingdoms that now needed to defend themselves from marauders from the east. A wooden Castell Dinas Brân, built around 1200, was rebuilt in stone in the 1260s by Gruffydd Maelor II, Prince of Powys Fadog.

Edward I became King of England in 1272. After resolving hangovers from the Barons War, and some frustratingly pointless Crusading, he decided he needed to add to his portfolio. Already King of England, Lord of Ireland and Duke of Gascony, he thought Wales and Scotland looked attractive additions.

Lynne among the ruins, Castell Dinas Brân

Edward was not a pleasant man, but he was an efficient administrator and ruthless warrior. He took Wales by 1289 and would probably have taken Scotland, too, had he not died of dysentery marching north in 1307. Edward gave Castell Dinas Brân and surrounding land to John de Warenne, (who would later make such a rickets of the Battle of Stirling Bridge - see Stirling post - when Edward sent him to deal with William Wallace). De Warenne did not want a war-damaged a castle on a hill, so he left it to crumble.

Me marching through the ruins, Castell Dinas Brân

Denbighshire Council erected a board (now rather weather-damaged) showing how the castle might have looked, but making sense of the crumbling masonry as we walked among it was beyond me.

Helpful information for the visitor

There is now little left of Castell Dinas Brân, but it is certainly an atmospheric ruin.

Atmospheric ruins

Valle Crucis Abbey

Driving back round the hill and a little way north on the A452 brought us to the Abbey Church of the Blessed Virgin Mary more usually known by its Latin name Valle Crucis (in Welsh Glyn yr Groes) or in English, Valley of the Cross. The abbey was built around 1200 and the site name comes from the Pillar of Elisedd, a cross erected by Cyngen ap Cadell, King of Powys some 400 years earlier in memory of his great-grandfather, Elisedd ap Gwylog. The pillar still stands in a field beside the Abbey.

The Pillar of Elisedd, Valle Crucis

The Abbey was built by Madog ap Gruffudd Maelor the father of Gruffudd Maelor II who built Castell Dinas Brân.

Eastern end of the Abbey Church, Valle Crucis

It is tempting to think the rulers of these petty kingdoms on the far western edge of Europe, far from the centres of civilisation, were barbaric and uncouth. In some ways they were, but Valle Crucis Abbey is a fine building.

Western end of the Abbey Church, Valle Crucis

Once completed it housed sixty brethren and 20 choir monks. There were also 40 lay-members who worked in the fields and carried out the day-to-day duties.

A cloister sits next to the main church.

Cloister, Valle Crucis

Between them is what might be termed a Chapter House….

Chapter House, Valle Crucis

….from where a flight of stairs…

Stone stairs, Valle Crucis

…takes you up to a loft where they have a magnificent collection of carved gravestones.

Carved Gravestone, Valle Crucis

The finest of them bears a faded Latin inscription round the lion shield: + HIC IACET : MA/DOC’ : FIL’ : GRIFINI : DCI : VYCHAN – here lies Madog son of Gruffudd also called Fychan. Gruffudd Fychan II, as he appears on the regnal list, was the great-grandson of the founder of the abbey and the last ruler of the Kingdom of Powys (1283-c1309), by then very much a vassal state. His was also the great-grandfather of Owain Glyndŵr whose long if ultimately unsuccessful rebellion led to him claiming to be Prince of Wales from 1400 to 1415.

The Abbey dissolved itself in 1537 when Henry VIII did not think it rich enough to bother with. After that it had a chequered career, as a ruin, a manor house and a farm before finally being rescued by CADW.

And having seen Valle Crucis, we went home.

Lynne's Birthday Jaunts

2018: Harrogate

Harrogate and Knaresborough

2019: Forest of Dean

Part 1: Into the Dean, Goodrich and The Speech House
Part 2:Coleford and Around
Part 3:Puzzlewood and The Kymin

2021: Liverpool

Part1: Castle Street and the Catholic Cathedral
Part 2: The Waterfront, The Cavern Club and St George's Quarter
Part 3: Ferry 'Cross the Mersey and the Anglican Cathedral

2022: Newtown

Newtown, Powys

2023: Dee Valley

Part 1: Pontcysyllte and Chirk
Part 2: Llangollen

2024: Caernafon

Caernafon and Seguntium (coming soon)

Pontcysyllte and Chirk: Dee Valley Part 1

A Thomas Telford Aqueduct and a Much Changed Medieval Castle

Where are we Going, and Why are we Going There?

Wales

Wrexham

I am unsure if Lynne has entirely lost her Welsh accent, she certainly sounded Welsh when we first met, but 1974 was a long time ago. In those days I sounded noticeably London (or, more precisely, Slough), but that has faded after five decades in the English Midlands.

Despite long absence, our roots are in Wales. At 15, Lynne left Cardiff for Solihull when her father relocated from Cardiff to his employer's Birmingham Office. I left Porthcawl for Southampton before my third birthday when my father went to work at Fawley Oil Refinery. He moved to head office in London in 1955, settling the family in Iver in Buckinghamshire, which accounted for my London twang - which survived an expensive education.

The reason for this pre-amble is that tomorrow is Lynne’s birthday, and to celebrate we are heading (not for the first time) for a short break in the Principality. It was not a long trek, our first stop, at Trevor, is only 35 miles from home, as the crow flies, about 70 minutes as the car drives - the roads are not fast, and the route is not straight.

The County Borough of Wrexham and its position in Wales
Map by Nilfanian (with additions) includes ordinance survey data (crown copyright) reproduced under CC-BY-SA 3.0

Trevor

Trevor is a compact village of some 1,440 people within the County Borough of Wrexham but separated by green fields (for the moment, at least) from the urban sprawl south of the city - Wrexham was awarded city status in September 2022.

Sitting on the edge of the Dee Valley, some way above the river, Trevor has strategic importance. Offa’s Dyke, the 82-mile-long earthwork built by King Offa of Mercia (reigned 757-786) to keep out the marauding Welsh runs past Trevor, as does the Llangollen Canal built just over a thousand years later to link together those whom Offa was so keen to keep apart.

Trevor canal basin

Originally just a branch of the Shropshire Union canal, the Llangollen Canal runs from Nantwich in Cheshire to just west of Llangollen. As the commercial value of the Shropshire Union waned, the touristic vale of the Llangollen Canal waxed. 11 miles of the canal, from Chirk to Llangollen form a UNESCO World Heritage Site and the main reason for that starts (or finishes) at Trevor.

Pontcysyllte

Building the short northbound section between Chirk and Trevor involved crossing two rivers. The Ceiriog just outside Chirk required a small aqueduct, while the much deeper Dee Valley required more thought. Various work-arounds were considered, but in the end Chief Engineer William Jessop decided to grasp the nettle and attempt one long, tall aqueduct. He asked Thomas Telford, the greatest road and canal engineer of the late 18th and early 19th centuries to make it happen.

The foundation stone of what was to become the Pontcysyllte Aqueduct was laid in 1795 and by 1805, using only the strength and power of men and horses, it was finished. By walking to the end of the Trevor canal basin anyone could survey one of the greatest engineering feats of the age. Indeed, anyone still can, so we did.

Pontcysyllte Aqueduct

They put the canal in a cast iron trough, 1007 feet long, 11 ft 10 ins wide and 3 ft 3 ins deep. And that (307m x 3.6m x 1.0m in proper units) was just big enough for the standard narrowboats that plied the canals 200+ years ago, and still do today.

A narrow boat completes the crossing, Pontcysyllte

Behind the narrowboat, like ducklings following their mother, was a flotilla of kayaks.

Followed by a flotilla of kayaks.

19th century, narrowboats did not move themselves, they and their one or two barges had to be pulled by a horse, so a towpath was required for Dobbin to plod along. Obviously, traffic across Pontcysyllte was one way at a time, so only one tow path was required – and it now provides a walk way for tourists.

Lynne sets out along the towpath

The aqueduct has 18 piers, and at river level they are 126 feet (38 metres) high - not including the ironwork. The view from a boat is more dramatic, there being no railings and your feet may possibly be above what little parapet there is. From the safety of the towpath, however, the Dee is a delightful river, winding its way through verdant woodland…

The River Dee winding through verdant woodland

…but like all such rivers it has short stretches of turbulence.

Turbulence on the River Dee

Horses never had to pass each other on the towpath, but humans do, which can be a careful process for those whom age has rendered less confident of their balance – and on a working day, after schools have re-started, such people may be in the majority.

There are no passing places on the towpath

As we discovered 11 years ago in Myanmar, once you have reached the end of U Bein's magnificent teak bridge, there is nothing to do but turn round and come back. And so it was here

Once you have reached far end, there is nothing to do but turn round and come back

The Llangollen Canal, Failure and Success

Despite Telford’s genius, the Llangollen branch was not a success. The plan was to continue north to industrial Wrexham where a new reservoir would keep it topped up, but that never happened. Canals were creatures of the industrial revolution, they could move fuel, raw materials or finished products in bulk cheaper, faster and safer than horses and carts, but they cost money to build, and sometimes the money ran out. The canals modern success with tourists would have bemused the industrialists of Ruabon and Brymbo who profited little from their investment, but perhaps Thomas Telford should be pleased his work is still appreciated.

At Trevor the canal turns west following the line of the Dee to Llangollen. Although no longer navigable, it continues westwards until meeting the river at the Horseshoe Falls, which keep it topped up. We would visit the falls on Thursday, but this is the appropriate place for the photograph. The falls are well signed, but it is unclear why, the word ‘underwhelming’ hardly does them justice.

The Horseshoe Falls at Niagara are a little bigger

All surviving canals are leisure facilities, but they still attract interesting feats of engineering. As an imaginative – and perhaps over-elaborate - solution to an old problem, The Falkirk Wheel – see the Falkirk post – takes some beating.

Pronouncing Pontcysyllte

The word looks forbidding and is not easy on a tongue tuned only to English. English readers will (or should) spot the problems immediately, Americans, (this blog’s largest group of visitors) might, not unreasonably, feel bewildered. Syllables one and three are stressed and the pronunciation is roughly PONT–kih-SILL-ter. Simple, except the double LL, is a ‘voiceless lateral fricative.’ And if that means as little to you as it does to me, go to Google Translate, write We arrived at Pontcysyllte, translate into Welsh and listen.

Pontcysyllte to Chirk

On the short journey to Chirk (pronounced: Chirk) we crossed the bridge over the Dee shown in one of aqueduct photos, and enjoyed the view from the valley bottom.

Pontcysyllte from the River Dee bridge

Chirk (Y Waun in Welsh) is a border town of some 4,500 people 3 miles south of Trevor. It was a colliery town, until the last pit closed in 1949.

Chirk Castle

We did not visit Chirk, but went straight to Chirk Castle a mile to the west.

Chirk Castle History

Lovely vistas abound around Chirk and its castle. Unfortunately, after walking up from the main car park, the visitor’s first proper views of the castle involves a lot of bins.

Chirk Castle waste disposal area

Fortunately, better views are not hard to find.

Chirk Castle

Fyvie Castle, started 1211

Is Chirk a medieval castle transformed into a country house, like Fyvie Castle in Aberdeenshire, or a country house like Castle Drogo in Devon, made to resemble a castle on a whim of a rich man? As most English castles were slighted after the Civil War ended (1651), it could well be the latter, but the location tells another story. The castle is half a mile from the English/Welsh border a fault line that much occupied King Edward I. The first Chirk Castle castle was built in 1295 on Edward’s instructions and became the administrative centre for the Marcher Lordship of Chirkland.

Castle Drogo, started 1910

Whether there was ever a keep or a curtain wall, I do not know, but it does not seem to have seen action.

Border problems became history and in 1593, the castle was bought by Sir Thomas Myddelton, a wealthy self-made merchant who wished to turn the castle into a family home. To that end, he inserted the first mullioned and transomed windows, thus acknowledging the castle was no longer a military stronghold.

His son, another Thomas supported Parliament in the Civil War, but became a Royalist in 1659 in plenty of time for the Restoration of the Monarchy, when he was allowed to repair the Civil War damage.

The castle remained in the Myddelton family until ownership was transferred to the National Trust in 1981.

Inside Chirk Castle

Inside the walls is a large courtyard, partly occupied in part by the café. The rooms of the castle surround the courtyard and the visit starts in the Cromwell Room. They are proud of their collection of Civil War muskets….

The Cromwell Room, Chirk Castle

… but there are also leather bottles…

Leather bottle, Cromwell Room, Chirk Castle

…and hats which have more peaceful uses.

Hats, Cromwell Room, Chirk Castle

We ascended the stairs….

The stairs, Chirk Castle

… and mounted at the top is what appears to be a hollow log.

Part of London's first clean water supply

The plaque underneath informed us that this is a relic of London’s first clean water supply. Between 1609 and 1613 the New River Company built a 61km pipeline to London from springs in Hertfordshire and this section of piping was unearthed at Clerkenwell in 1895. The project engineer had been Sir Hugh Myddelton.

Next door is a drawing room which looks supremely elegant. Unfortunately, it does not look supremely comfortable, nor supremely warm in the winter, nor particularly light when the sun sets…

Elegant drawing room, Chirk Castle

…but that was 18th century life for the rich – it was much worse for the poor, and they could never gaze up at a ceiling like this.

Sumptuous ceiling, Chirk Castle

We went through to the long gallery. Every house had to have a long gallery in the 17th and 18th centuries, and this one is as long as most.

Long Gallery, Chirk Castle

It is also full of treasures, none finer than the King’s Box, a gift from Charles II after the Restoration. It is made of ebony with inlays of tortoiseshell and ivory.

The King's Box, Chirk Castle long gallery

In 1631, Sir Thomas Myddelton handed the castle over to his son. Back downstairs we saw the room described at the time as Sir Thomas Myddelton, his owne room.

It looks Spartan to the 21st century eye, but it was well furnished at the time and included Sir Thomas’ ‘Great Bedstead.’ With its curtaines valance and curtaine Rods, featherbed, bolster, I pillowe, 1 Blankett. one Tapestrie covering. It was valued at 3 pounds, 10 shillings, maybe £1,000 now.

Thomas Myddelton, his owne room

Next door, the stucco in the Magistrates Court is the only surviving pre-Civil War decoration. It was never a courtroom, but derives its name from the plaster figure over the fireplace, presumed to be a personification of Justice.

Pre-Civil War representation of Justice (maybe), Magistrates Court

Outside the Castle

Outside there is a formal garden, which has changed since 1920, but is still recognisable…

Formal Garden, Chirk Castle, photographed 1920

…and beyond drifts of flowers and views into the green Welsh hinterland.

Informal garden, Chirk Castle

Leaving Chirk we headed for Llangollen.

Llangollen

Denbighshire

Llangollen is a town of almost 4,000, 3½ miles up the Dee from Pontcysyllte. It is the main feature of the next post, so here I will only observe that it has two of those testing double ells. Best bet for the uninitiated is to pronounce ‘ll’ as if it were ‘thl’ (this does not work for Pontcysyllte because it lacks a vowel after the ‘ll’). An evenly stressed Thlan-goth-len is an acceptable approximation to Llangollen.

We checked into our hotel and then walked beside the Dee, a popular place on a September evening pretending to be still summer.

The Dee at Llangollen

Dining in Llangollen

We intended to eat at the Corn Mill as it had been recommended by a neighbour for its food and its open-air riverside dining space. Perhaps predictably, it was fully booked. A nearby alternative had a sign on the bar saying ‘Cash Only.’ Amazed that such a place should exist in 2023, we set out to find an ATM or another restaurant, whichever came first. For a moment I feared a re-run of last year’s Newtown debacle, but Llangollen, though smaller, receives many more visitors and has many more restaurants.

Fauzi’s Café Bar and Pizzeria was a brightly lit café just across Castle Street. Lynne chose scampi and chips, because sometimes she feels nostalgia for the 1970s. Her only regret was that it had not been served in a basket.

Scampi, Fauzi's, Llangollen

I had smoked haddock and prawn risotto, the poached fish sitting on a poached egg atop a well-made risotto with a rich seafood flavour. I liked it a lot.

Haddock and Prawn Risotto, Fauzi's, Llangollen

We drank an inexpensive but robust Italian white and felt pleased with our choices, and our day

Lynne's Birthday Jaunts

2018: Harrogate

Harrogate and Knaresborough

2019: Forest of Dean

Part 1: Into the Dean, Goodrich and The Speech House
Part 2:Coleford and Around
Part 3:Puzzlewood and The Kymin

2021: Liverpool

Part1: Castle Street and the Catholic Cathedral
Part 2: The Waterfront, The Cavern Club and St George's Quarter
Part 3: Ferry 'Cross the Mersey and the Anglican Cathedral

2022: Newtown

Newtown, Powys

2023: Dee Valley

Part 1: Pontcysyllte and Chirk
Part 2: Llangollen

2024: Caernafon

Caernafon and Seguntium (coming soon)

A Rainy Day in Dumfries (2) Caerlaverock Castle: Scotland 23 Part 6

A Triangular Castle and a Tapas Dinner

A Brief Recap

Scotland

Dumfries & Galloway

On the 21st of July we had driven 260 miles south from Findochty to Dumfries (for the many American visitors to this blog that is pronounced Dum-freece). For much of his life, Dumfries was the home of Robert Burns, Scotland’s (unofficial) national poet. On the morning of the 22nd we set out to walk the town’s Burns Trail. It involved so many interesting places, not all connected with Burns, that by lunch time I had reached my self-imposed limit on the length of a blog post. That post became A Rainy Day in Dumfries Part 1 and this post tidies up the afternoon and evening.

Findochty, Dumfries and the Dumfries & Galloway District

The River Nith

After a sandwich and a cup of tea in the town centre, we returned to our hotel, picked up the car and drove the 11km south-east to Caerlaverock Castle, following the River Nith almost to the Solway Firth. I finished the previous post with Burn's ode ‘The Banks o’ Nith’ but I do not think it was this bit of the Nith he was eulogising. For its final few kilometres, the river is tidal. At low tide it is a narrow stream running between wide muddy banks while at high tide inflow exceeds outflow, and for an hour or so the Nith becomes more a lake than a river.

The River Nith when the tide is in

Caerlaverock Castle

Caerlaverock Castle was built in the 13th century as a stronghold for Clan Maxwell. At the time, I presume, it overlooked the river mouth but that is now hidden behind Castle Wood. The area had previously accommodated a Roman Camp and then a Brittonic hill fort

Scotland has a wealth of wonderful place names that roll off the tongue and entice the imagination, but Caerlaverock is not one of them, it just feels wrong.

What’s in a Name?

13th century Dumfries was linguistically diverse but Gaelic and Norse were in decline, Norman French was confined to the nobility and Early Scots was emerging as the dominant language – though whether Scots is a language or an English dialect can become a heated debate. Laverock is Scots for ‘skylark,’ but what warlord in his right mind would invoke the power of a skylark?

‘Caer’ means 'fort', not in Gaelic (that would be dùn – as in Dumfries) but in Welsh, where it is a common prefix in place names - Caerdydd (Cardiff), Caernafon (Carnavon). Llafar (a single ‘f’ is pronounced as ‘v’ in Welsh) means ‘talking’ and there is more than one Afon Llafar in Wales – like a babbling brook - but with alliteration only in the second syllable. -Og, meaning ‘having the quality of’ is a suffix in Welsh place names like Ffestiniog.

Having translated the implausible Caerlaverock to the plausible Caerllafarog, we appear to have a Welsh place name in Scotland. So that needs explaining

Some History

When the Romans arrived, the island they called Britannia was occupied by a patchwork of tribes speaking various Brittonic dialects and living in peace with their neighbours, except when they quarrelled or felt like some raiding. The Romans introduced order, law and peace. Some tribal leaders bought into this, adopting Roman names and Roman lifestyles but few did as well as King Tiberius Claudius Togidubnus of the Atrebates in what is now Sussex. His huge palace with baths, underfloor heating and mosaic floors, was rediscovered in 1960 and visited by us in in in 2008.

In 410 the Romans went home, taking the rule of law with them. Petty kingdoms sprouted and withered. Their inhabitants did not write much, and what is known comes largely from oral history written down in the 11th and 12th centuries

In 537 King Gwenddoleu ap Ceidio was defeated and killed by King Rhydderch Hael of Strathclyde at the Battle of Arfderydd. Gwenddoleu’s bard, Myrddin Wyllt, reportedly went mad and ran into the forest. Arfderydd was near Caerlaverock and all the names are Welsh. Myrddin the bard may even have featured in the Arthurian legends (other claimants exist).

Britain in 800 CE

Later Angles, Jutes and Saxons began to arrive. When I was at school, I was taught the incoming invaders butchered the Ancient Britons pushing the survivors into Wales and Cornwall. DNA analysis now suggests that did not happen, they were migrants rather than invaders and quietly merged with local inhabitants. What did get pushed west was the Brittonic, Old Welsh, language.

By 800 the petty kingdoms of what is now England (more or less) had been reduced to seven as shown on the map.

The problem with the map (apart from labelling Wales  'North Wales' and Cornwall ‘West Wales’) is that it makes no distinction between two very different Brittonic languages. The Kingdom of Dalriada, just north of Strathclyde was the land occupied by the Scoti when they migrated from Ireland (late 4th/early 5th centuries), bringing the Gaelic tongue with them. The Picts disappeared, probably merging with the Scoti, leaving some enigmatic stone carvings, but little more. The Gaelic language was very different from the Old Welsh used in Strathclyde, Wales and Cornwall.

Gaelic became the dominant language in the north of what is now Scotland, while by the 11th century English had become dominant in what would become southern Scotland and Cumbria. It is, however, very possible that some anglicised versions of Old Welsh names survive - like Caerlaverock.

Enough of this, Back to the Castle

Castles are usually highly visible, that is the point of them, but Caerlaverock remains hidden from a distance, being being built in a slight dip.

It is also triangular. The apex facing inland is truncated, with two round towers merging to form a gatehouse

Caerlaverock Castle

A closer view shows the moat is still present, but the drawbridge has been replaced by a fixed bridge.

A fixed bridge where once was a drawbridge, Caerlaverock Castle

Above the door, in carved sandstone is the crest of the Clan Maxwell, ‘a stag couchant under a holly bush.’ The inevitable erosion of softish stone means the bush is barely recognisable as holly.

The Clan Maxwell crest over the gate

Sadly, the gate is currently locked and visitors are not allowed inside. Scottish Heritage own Caerlaverock, and many other piles of old stone, and after a recent rockfall they have temporarily closed several ruins so they can be surveyed and, if necessary, made safe. I have no desire to be crushed by tumbling rocks, and there was no charge for the visit, so I cannot complain.

The photo of the gate rather foreshortens the castle, and loses its triangularity. A drone would be useful here. I do not have one, but Simon Ledingham does and he has kindly donated the photo below to Wikipedia. I reproduce it here under CC BY-SA 2.0.

Simon Ledingham's aerial view of Caerlaverock Castle. It really is triangular!
The cuboid building with nine windows, looks out of place in a medieval castle. It is the Nithsdale Lodgings - see later

Caerlaverock in the First Scottish War of Independence

The First Scottish War of Independence lasted from 1296 to 1328, which make it sound worse than it was. Some years there were summer campaigns by one protagonist or another, some years nothing happened.

Scotland had a succession problem, and rather foolishly had asked Edward I of England to choose their new king. He wanted to answer ‘ME!’ but instead appointed John Baliol, a man so pliable Edward could have used him as a glove puppet. Edward was a first-class war lord – not a quality I admire, but he was good at it and would probably have ruled Scotland but for his death from dysentery while marching north in 1302. His son Edward II was very different and after losing to Robert the Bruce at Bannockburn in 1314 it was all over bar the shouting – which lasted 14 years.

The important battles, Stirling Bridge (1297) and Bannockburn were fought in or near Stirling. We visited both sites in 2022, and there is more about this war in my Stirling post.

The eastern Gatehouse Tower and East Range

Sir Herbert Maxwell and his garrison were besieged in Caerlaverock in 1300 by Edward I with a force of 3,000 well-armed men. After two days spirited defence Maxwell surrendered. Finding the castle was garrisoned by only 50 men, Edward was impressed they had held out so long.

In 1312 Sir Eustace Maxwell (Herbert had died) swapped sides and the castle was returned. Edward II even paid to upgrade the fortifications.

He then promptly swapped sides again. This led to a second English siege which was repulsed, but Sir Eustace part dismantled his own castle to prevent the English gaining such an important stronghold. Robert the Bruce paid him for this service.

Caerlaverock in the Second Scottish War of Independence 1332-57

King Robert I (the Bruce) died in 1329 aged 54. His son King David II was aged two, so Edward Baliol (son of John) saw an opportunity. Aided, and sometimes hindered by Edward III (son of Edward II) he fought a series of regents for the crown. Edward was distracted by French threats of invasion and in 1336 decided to invade France himself and press his claim to be the King of France. Much of the latter part of the war involved David raiding in England in support of France. He was captured, spent time in the Tower of London, was eventually ransomed and became undisputed King of Scotland on Edward Baliol’s death in 1364.

Caerlaverock Castle 1832, JMW Turner
Original in Aberdeen Art Gallery

By 1337 the castle was rebuilt and Sir Eustace declared for Edward Baliol. Some years passed, but inevitably, it was taken by forces loyal to David II, and part dismantled.

In the late 14th century, Caerlaverock was regained by the Maxwells and Sir Robert Maxwell did much rebuilding from from 1373. Some decades later another Robert, now styled 2nd Lord Maxwell reconstructed the gatehouse, among other improvements.

The Reformation

In 1567 Mary Queen of Scots was forced to abdicate. The Catholic Maxwells took up her cause and in 1570 Caerlaverock was besieged by an English Protestant force. It was, yet again, partly demolished and the gatehouse was blown up with gunpowder.

In 1619 Robert, 10th Lord Maxwell was in favour with James VI (by then also James I of England). He was appointed to the Scottish Privy Council and made Earl of Nithsdale. To reflect his new status, he started building the ‘Nithsdale Lodging.’

Looking into the castle through the demolished South Range towards the Nithsdale Lodgings

Judging the great days of castles to be over, the Nithsdale Lodgings were an attempt to turn a medieval castle into a comfortable 17th country house. They were too soon, the Gordon family made the same mistake at Huntly in Aberdeenshire, but got it right at nearby Fyvie (see Huntly and Fyvie)

Close up of the The Nithsdale Lodgings

In the dark local stone, the Nithsdale Lodgings look forbidding rather than welcoming. The semi-circles above each window have carvings of family arms, scenes of divine and earthly love and episodes from Greek mythology. Their attempt to evoke the Italian Renaissance, now better evokes the Scottish weather.

Being a Catholic in a Scotland now gripped with Protestant fervour was not easy. Six years after the Nithsdale Lodgings were completed, Caerlaverock was besieged by a Protestant Covenanter army and forced to surrender after 13 weeks. The Earl and Countess of Nithsdale and their page were allowed to leave, but the 40 defenders were put to the sword, which doesn't feel fair. The south wall and tower were demolished, and the castle was abandoned.

A Tapas Dinner

We too abandoned Caerlaverock, and returned to Dumfries aware that we had neglected to organise dinner. Chips shops are always available, but a seat in a restaurant in Dumfries on Saturday night, requires booking.

Our affable hosts at the Hill Hotel (which I recommend) had provided us with a list of possibilities yesterday and we started phoning. We eventually found a berth in The Bank Bar and Tapas Restaurant, a newish restaurant and a newish idea for Dumfries.

We walked into town – after relenting at Caerlaverock, the drizzle had returned – and found the Bank to be a large modern building stuffed with drinkers and diners. It was loud – Scottish bars are often louder than English bars – and that was not helped by the hen party in the corner. They became quieter when the serious eating started and we had left before the serious drinking begun.

The Spanish tend to eat their main meal at lunchtime (2.30ish). Those choosing to eat out in the evening normally arrive at restaurants around 10pm, thus leaving an early spot for bars selling drinks and snacks on small plates. The first Tapas bars in this country followed the Spanish template, but our earlier dining time means they have morphed into restaurants selling full meals, but on multiple small plates – three per average dinner. They have also forgotten their Spanish roots, our six plates had origins spread across Europe, Asia and the Caribbean; some were meaty, some fishy, some veggie, some spicy, some not.  Each plate was a complete dish, the variety was fascinating and we enjoyed the experience far more than we had anticipated.

The next day we drove home to Staffordshire.

Scotland 2023

Part 1 Falkirk
Part 2 Banff and Macduff
Part 3 Pitmedden Gardens and Haddo House
Part 4 Lossiemouth to Elgin
Part 5 A Rainy Day in Dumfries (1) Robert Burns
Part 6 A Rainy Day in Dumfries (2) Caerlaverock Castle