Serpa

A Tiny Alentejo City with Several Layers

So Where are We, and Why are We There?

Portugal

Serpa

As has been our habit for some years, we headed north for a couple of days in the less touristy Alentejo as a prelude to our regular fortnight in the fleshpots of the Algarve.

This year our chosen destination was the small city of Serpa, the population centre of a municipality of the same name which lies between the Spanish border and the regional capital of Beja (visited 2018). Many readers may never have heard of Serpa, but Serpa cheese is one of only a dozen or so Portuguese cheeses with Protected Designation of Origen status, and for a committed turophile, that is reason enough to visit.

Southern Portugal
Serpa can be found half way between the regional capital of Beja and the Spanish Border

As ever, we landed at Faro Airport and once through the formalities and equipped with a hire car we joined the A22 Motorway (Autoestrada/Freeway etc) heading east. After 50km, just before the Spanish border, we turned towards Serpa, 80km north as the crow flies. We followed the main road for much of the journey, but eventually that veers off towards Beja and we took a more rural route to our destination.

Serpa: The Basics

The Municipality of Serpa covers 1,000km² but has a population of only 13,000 at the 2021 census, an 18% decrease in 20 years. The City of Serpa has 6,000 inhabitants, maybe more a small town than a city, you might think, but city status was granted in 2003. Many modestly sized Portuguese towns have become cities in recent decades, the criteria for the upgrade are deliberately vague and allow plenty of wiggle room. The intention is to boost the local economy and self-confidence, though city status means little more than a change of letter head.

The area is largely agricultural, and although Portuguese farms were slow to mechanise in the middle of the last century, they have been busy catching up, with the inevitable decline in agricultural employment. On the plus side Serpa is two hours’ drive from Lisbon and is a popular location for well-off urbanites' second homes.

During our time in Serpa we found it was a city of layers, like an onion, so instead of going through our stay in chronological order, I intend to peel Serpa, removing the newer layers one by one until we find evidence of Roman occupation.

Peeling the Serpa Onion: (1) Surroundings

My clever analogy almost falls apart at the start. No-one peels an onion by first examining the soil around it, but cities and onions are products of the soil, so it important to look around.

Like most old settlements Serpa is on a high point, which was useful for photographing the surroundings. Serpa sits towards the eastern edge of the vast Alentejo plain, the bread basket of Portugal throughout recorded history. The land is beginning to change here, but wheat grows to the north and west, and like every other Alentejo town, Serpa has its grain silos.

Serpa grain silo, with Beja on the horizon on left

On the next major rise it is possible to make out the white buildings of Beja, some 25km northwest.

Looking south and west the crops being to change, with the muted green of olive trees and the brighter green of oranges replacing the cereals.

Olives, oranges and distant vines, serpa

On the gentle slopes beyond are the vineyards of the Encostas de Serpa, not (yet) a protected name, the wine is designated Vinho Regional Alentejano, but the use of the name suggest ambition.

Encostas de Serpa Syrah
A soft, fruity wine for convivial swilling

(2) The Onion Skin and First Layer

The skin of the onion is made up of the N260 which by-passes Serpa on the east and north side and the Circular Interna da Serpa which, despite being named ‘Interna,’ largely follows the edge of the built up area to the south and west.

Lining the Circular Interna are schools, the stadium of Serpa Football Club, two supermarkets (Intermarché and Lidl), an open-air 50m swimming pool and a couple of factories. On the N260 there is a car wash.

The first layer is fatter and juicier on the southern/western side. It includes a modern municipal market. We reached Serpa too late for the market on our first day, but took the opportunity to rehydrate at the café.

Rehydrating at the municipal market, Serpa

Serpa Cheese

One room is dedicated to a display about Serpa cheese. There is little see, but plenty to read, so here is the essential information:

Serpa cheese information room, municipal market

Like most Alentejo cheeses, Serpa is made from unpasteurised sheep’s milk, curdled using an extract from the cardoon thistle. It is a semi soft cheese (amanteigado (lit: buttery) in Portuguese) with a pronounced tang. For more see TheAlentejo: Eating and Drinking 2024.

Queijo de Serpa

Jardim Abade Correia de Serra

A short walk away is the Jardim Abade Correia de Serra, a pleasant garden opened in 2017 with winding paths, shady trees, a pond or two….

Jardim Abade Correia de Serra, Serpa

…and a surprise cactus grove.

Cactus, Jardim Abade Correia de Serra, Serpa

It is a good place to sit in the shade, switch on ‘Merlin*’ and find out what birds it hears. Many are familiar, but it in Serpa I logged my first Green Sandpiper (they can be found, in the UK, but not by me – yet), Short-toed Treecreeper and Spotless Starling.

(3) Outside the Walls

The ancient olive trees opposite the garden’s entrance hint that we are on the edge of an older layer of town. Amongst the olives is a statue of José Francisco Correia de Serra for whom the garden is named. Born in Serpa in 1750, he was a scientist, diplomat and polymath. He made important contributions both to botany and geology, played a crucial role in the creation of the Lisbon Academy of Sciences, and served as a diplomat in the United States, 1816-20.

José Francisco Correia da Serra

Some parts of this layer are characterised by small squares with roads branching off at all angles. We stayed at the charming Hotel Beatriz in one such square, Largo San Salvador. Small and family run (I think) the interior was bright, modern, spotlessly clean and comfortable. I have borrowed a photo from their website as I failed to take one myself….

Hotel Beatriz, Serpa

…but I do have a nighttime photo of the church across the square.

San Salvador

Finding the hotel was a problem, partly because the satnav misplaced it slightly (corrected now), but more because the road arrangements are not satnav friendly. ‘In 50m turn half-right’ sounds straightforward but when you get there and survey the collection of roads and tiny passages, you wonder ‘which is half-right? We failed twice, the road system spitting us out onto the Circular Interna.

Elsewhere in this layer we encountered long, straight roads like the Rua dos Lagares (Street of Wine Presses), where orange trees shaded the pavement…

Rua dos Lagares

…and dogs watching from balconies.

Dog on a balcony, Rua dos Lagares

While roads off to the right seemed to narrow once they had passed through an arch. We were clearly walking along the boundary of a, walled city.

Street into the walled city from Rua dos Lagares

The Aqueduct

The wall turn turns right at the end of Rua dos Lagares, and behind one of Serpa’s fine old olive trees, suddenly turns into an aqueduct.

Lynne, an olive tree and the Serpa aqueduct

Above a spring on the street corner, a pump once lifted water up to aqueduct height…

The pump, Serpa aqueduct

…and fed it across a series of arches and past two towers….

Through two towers

….and into the Palácio dos Condes de Ficalho (Palace of the Counts of Ficalho).

Serpa Aqueduct enters the palace

Sources agree the wall is 11th century, some say the aqueduct is, too – but that seems unlikely. The authoritative looking Structurae dates the construction to 1690 which looks right.

Most aqueducts, the Evora aqueduct being the closest, bring water from a distant source into a city for the benefit of all. This expensive and ostentation stonework built by the Melho family, later Counts of Ficalhio, brings water 200m from a spring to their own house. I would like to think it was, at least a ‘workfare’ project, but I can find no information on the matter.

(4) Within the Walls

Inside the walls is an unreliable grid of narrow streets, many pedestrians only.

Serpa: inside the walls

Most wandering will arrive at the central square, home to the Camara Municipal and the Restaurant O Alentejano where we dined twice – once on purpose and once because nowhere else was open.

Serpa Camara Municipal

Our third evening meal (at Molhó Bico) was nearby so many of my photos were taken in the dark. Our Serpa dinners are discussed in The Alentejo: Eating and Drinking.

There are places where wandering narrow alleys late at night is asking for trouble. Serpa, its streets bathed in sodium yellow light, seems almost misty, but utterly benign.

Elderly local lady on a mission, Serpa

Mario Beirão

On a (daylight) wall we found a poem by Beja-born Mario Beirão.

Poem on a wall, Serpa

My improvement(?) of Google Translate's version reads:

Oh, I do not know how to pronounce the wonder
That bewitches Serpa at night when round
Her walls the past and a choir in waves
Foam and crash at the gates of Seville

Perhaps some punctuation would help in line 3, and the reference to the gates of Seville is beyond me. I lack context and knowledge of Portuguese colloquialisms. Help, anyone?

Beirão (1890-1965) was a neo-Romantic poet. Although highly regarded by some, he was a supporter of the tyrant António de Oliveira Salazar whose Estado Novo held back Portuguese development from 1932-74.

Museu de Relógio

Two small blocks from the Camara Municipal is the Museu de Relógio, the Museum of Timepieces (Relógio means both clock and watch.)

António Tavares d'Almeida (1933-2021) collected clocks and watches throughout his life. Part of his collection is in the Museum of Time in Évora, but most of it is in Serpa where 3,000 exhibits fill ten rooms of a 16th century nunnery.

There are inexpensive watches….

Inexpensive watches, Serpa Museum

….and more expensive watches.

Seikos can cost £2,000+

I know little about expensive watches, I cannot imagine why someone should pay £30,000 for a wristwatch, which is seen by few, recognised by even fewer and needs to be insured. I wear a cheap Casio, which keeps perfect time for a couple of years (what more do I want a watch to do?), then the strap breaks and I buy another. I aspire to nothing more - except repairable straps.

There are long case clocks and cuckoo clocks,…

Long Case clocks and cuckoo clocks, Serpa

…wall clocks, mantlepiece clocks and more.

Wall clocks and mantlepiece clocks, Serpa

Being in a room full of clocks when they all strike the hour, starting at different times and chiming with different notes and tempos, is a delight – though not one I would enjoy 24 times a day.

Approaching the Castle

Most of the area within the walls lies below the surrounding city, but just north of the central square a set of stone steps takes you to higher ground. Near the bottom of the steps we paused for coffee at a tiny café - two tables outside, two more inside. Here a café con leite - a traditional Portuguese coffee close(ish) to a cappuccino, though less frothy, rather stronger and much smaller than the travesty of the Italian original sold in swimming pool sized cups throughout the UK and North America - costs 0.70€ (that is £0.60, or $0.80). The touristy Algarve is rather more expensive.

Coffee break Digression over, we continue up the steps past the clocktower…

The Clocktower

…to a small square dominated by the Parish Church of Santa Maria.

Santa Maria, Serpa

Down the side of the church a narrow lane gives access to the innermost layer of the onion….

To Serpa Castle

(5) The Castle

As the previous photo shows, a portion of the keep has fallen over the entrance.

Fallen keep, Serpa Castle

There was a Roman fort on this site, but most existing walls were constructed by the Moors. Serpa is 20km from the Spanish border, so it is hardly surprising the castle was once garrisoned by Castilian forces and the city’s first Foral (charter) was granted by the King Alfonso X of Castille in 1281.

Despite the Christian kingdoms being in alliance against the Moors, they were not above taking a swipe at each other. By the time the Reconquista was completed in Portugal, Serpa was in Portuguese hands and a new Foral was issued by King Diniz of Portugal in 1295.

The castle was strengthened and enlarged, but saw little military action for the next 400 years. It remained largely unchanged, tall stone walls with a keep and tower or two, surrounding a square courtyard.

Serpa Castle from the top of the remaining tower

In 1701 Charles II of Spain died without an heir. There were two claimants and the European powers lined up behind one or the other and went to war. Portugal tried to remain neutral, but geography was against them. In 1703 they were persuaded to join with the Grand Alliance of the Holy Roman Empire, Great Britain and the Durch Republic. The Alentejo became something of a battleground and an engagement in 1707 resulted in the semi-demolition of Serpa’s keep. It has not been repaired, the time of castles had passed and it was quite safe as it was.

There is little to see but you can climb he tower and walk most of the way round the walls.

Walking round the walls

Several views beyond the city were used in Part (1), but there are also good views of the aqueduct….

The aqueduct

…and the church and clocktower.

Clocktower and Parish Church

At the start I promised to peel Serpa starting with the modern town and ending with evidence of Roman occupation. And that is what we have reached.

Decorative Roman frieze, Serpa Castle

On display in the castle courtyard are seeral pieces of stonework and a decorative frieze from a Roman villa in the nearby village of Brinches.

And Finally…

…we arrive at the end of this post. Serpa is a tiny city, it is also a quiet city – it has little to attract a party animal or adrenalin junkie; but for people who take pleasure in the understated grandeur of rural Portugal, Serpa is a gem. And a fine cheese, to boot.

*The Merlin ap is produced by Cornell University and is a free download. Download a bird database for where you are - in this case the Iberian Peninsula - and the ap will record and identify the birds you hear. You can report your findings, and the ap keeps a 'life list' of the birds you have heard,

Other Alentejo Posts

Évora (2016)
Mértola and Alcoutim: Strongholds by the Guadiana River (2017) - also under Algarve
Beja, Capital of Baixo Alentejo(2018)
Castro Verde (1): Surrounding Villages (2022)
Castro Verde (2): Castro Verde and Ourique (2022)
Serpa (2023)
The Alentejo, Eating and Drinking (2024)

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. 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