This section contains two essays on Llanymynech: "The Village" by Jerry Klein; and "The History of Llanymynech" by Mrs. Bailey Williams.
Outside of the family, which has survived every manner of siege throughout the ages, the village remains one of the oldest and most enduring of all social structures. By definition larger than a hamlet and smaller than a town, it has existed since pre-history and continues to flourish in all parts of the world as a remarkably unified and important part of the modern world as well as the ancient one.
Curiously, in a time when the mega-metropolis has brought a kind of cold alienation in which people who live separated only by a wall may never exchange greetings, the village is still a tightly knit unit in which lives are interwoven into a kind of living, breathing tapestry. The village, too, is decidedly universal. It exists throughout the world in a form that is surprisingly similar. The milkman Tevye, from "Fiddler on the Roof," is, for instance, a character so recognizable that his counterpart, or a reasonable facsimile thereof--can be found in almost any small settlement in the world. For there is in the village a human dimension. People are not so much engulfed therein as enhanced and somehow nourished. And they are, to be sure, never faceless, or unknown. Their lives, however seemingly small or insignificant, are part of the fabric of the community and, thus, of civilization itself.
In fact, were one to compare village life in Europe, in Asia, in rural America, one unquestionably would find a common thread. We once came upon a village in the Somme battlefield area of France, entered a small cafe called the Calypso Bar and found there people who were startlingly familiar: the Rotarian passing out his business card, the genial owner of the cafe, the village "idiot," farmers, laborers and tradesmen who, save for the barrier of language, could well have been habitues of the tavern a few miles from where I live in Woodford County, Illinois.
In this ambitious and far reaching project involving visual and oral history, Fred Jones has wonderfully captured this universal village. This village happens to be in Wales, his home of Llanymynech, which sits on the Welsh-English border. With photographs, with words, with tapes, with video, the essence of Llanymynech, its people, its history, its architecture, its topography, its scenery all come vibrantly alive. There is, too, a sense of place here, an awareness of the flow of time, a feeling of the deep roots that in many instances have vanished from our world.
Here is the verger, Charlie Ingram, who remembers stoking the church furnace with coal on bitter winter nights, who recounts that it took him eight hours to dig a grave by hand, who recalls in glorious detail football games and old players, faded cups and once prized trophies, who laments that juke boxes have replaced communal singing in village pubs.
And here, too, is Tony Villiers, rector since 1967 at St. Agatha's Church, whose list of former pastors unreels to the time of the Crusades. He describes with enormous pride his pseudo Norman church, its superb windows, the clock, which has been operational since 1844 and whose 8-foot face was visible to the miners working in the hills above the village.
And the housewife, Nan Jones, who talks about peoples' nicknames and how they got them, about old games and dances and story-tellers, and in relaxed conversational tones, limns in a living history of a tightly knit, almost intimate society.
Rich, memorable voices these, and the oral history they convey strikes profoundly deep chords. Fred Jones is not a nagging inquisitor, but a sympathetic, skilled interviewer who draws his subjects forth as if they are blossoming. The results are eloquent and memorable.
Were one forced to offer an apologia to Illinois for this study of a seemingly remote village in Wales, one might only turn to the stories narrated in the "Tales from Two Rivers" series detailing life in this part of the world as seen by a passing generation, for the similarities are startling. Rural and small town life has so many common threads, despite the geographical location, that it almost seems as if the characters involved could be traded, like pawns in a chess match.
Listen, for instance, to Jack Beeston and John Humphreys relating their stories of rough, dusty roads, early cars and steam trains and there is the sudden realization that the same incidents might be told by the elderly residents of Blandinsville, or Fountain Green, or even Macomb when it was smaller. When these people talk about the annual fairs and carnivals, the disruption of wars, the almost vanished pride of workmanship, or changes that have been wrought by cars, television and various social upheavals, they span not only time, but space as well. For they are the same voices that we hear, detailing the same trials we face, recognizing the same rewards in life we experience and living the same kind of lives that we live.
"People move around more than we used to," says David Jones, a builder. "Everything used to be made by hand. But the craftsman's skills are gone, a dying art. Times change. Each generation is different. My parents worked harder than I did and the next generation will work even less."
The observation may come from Llanymynech in Wales, but it could easily have originated from a village in Illinois.
Fred Jones's eloquent photographs and interviews do convey a feel for a village with a long and continuous history that no community in America can come close to matching. In this respect, Llanymynech might seem at first glance to be a somewhat far-off choice to illustrate the unique character of the village. Its history is awash with the violence of Roman warriors, Saxon invaders, Danes, Scots and Normans, which to us might seem to be myth and legend, something like "Robin Hood", but which forms part of the fiber of this almost seminal village.
Despite such modern trappings as blacktopped roads, a gas station, pubs and television antennas, Llanymynech seems somehow to swirl out of the mists of history. Ancient British chieftains are buried nearby. Once there was a Druid temple in these hills. Recently, the site of the last stand of Caractacus, the last British chieftain, was discovered on Llanymynech mountain. There are said to be colossal fortifications in which the Welsh tribes fought like resistance fighters, but were ultimately defeated, and like Caractacus, betrayed and taken to Rome in chains. The Romans also mined these hills for copper, lead and silver, and Roman coins are still found today. Mendicant monks offered their prayers here and returning Crusaders stopped, either to pray at St. Agatha's Church or to carouse at one of the local inns. Later, stagecoaches, the railroad, and the Montgomeryshire Canal transformed Llanymynech into an important commercial center for pig iron, limestone, wool, brick, rope and coal.
If much has changed, if the colorful characters seem to have disappeared and if the insularity is not quite so formidable as it once was, village life continues to retain much of its elemental sociability. People still greet one another on the street, know their neighbors' secrets and somehow care for one another.
Although only 50 miles from Liverpool, the village for centuries was both self-sustaining and self-sufficient, like many American villages earlier this century. Like village people everywhere, its inhabitants seldom found the need to commute to larger cities for their needs, but found their services and their companionship among their own.
The Llanymynech of Fred Jones' youth may, indeed be passing, just as the American village and small town have changed drastically. It is said that there are no more styx, for they have been erased by the advances of transportation and communication and assimilated into the wider world which gains much of its information, its propaganda, its news of life and lifestyles from the same source --television.
Still, however, there is the village and a different way of life from the
monstrous city. In the village one can retain a sense of identity, of worth,
of continuity, an awareness of one's place in the greater scheme of things.
This exhibition is intended not only to reaffirm these enduring values, but
to offer a powerful testimony that the village is not extinct. One might find
echoes of it in the arrondissements of Paris, the boroughs of New York City,
the neighborhoods of some medium-sized cities, although these do seem to be
vanishing little by little. But here, in Fred Jones' unique exhibition, is a
stirring reminder that the village, whether in Wales or in Western Illinois,
is not only alive and well, but an intrinsic, vital part of our society. And
a stirring reminder as well that history is not limited to wars and treaties
and elections and assassinations, but is wonderfully present in the lives of
the most ordinary and unspectacular people.
Preface
In response to requests that my notes on the History of Llanymynech should be collected and printed in a booklet, it is hereby presented in the hope that it may give pleasure to all who are interested in the local history.
To trace the history of any area we have to rely on evidence from the past. Local history is the record of how our predecessors lived, and we in our turn, are making history every day of our lives, however uneventful we imagine it to be.
Llanymynech has a long history. For convenience it can roughly be divided into:
1. Archeological,
2. Ecclesiastical,
3. Parochial.
ARCHEOLOGICAL
There are three fortresses, Briedden, Brynmawr and Llanymynech Hill, which for centuries stood like sentinels guarding what in ancient history was known as Bwich Mawr, the Great Gap, meaning the Severn Valley, through which so many invaders infiltrated. There are records that there were early British camps on the Briedden, Bryn Mawr and Llanymynech Hill.
Geologists tell us that the hill is a continuation of a range of limestone hills which begins at the Great Orme, Llandudno.
The workmen who used to be employed in the quarries had names on each strata, e.g. Red stone bed, Blood vein, Egg bed, Shell stone bed, etc., evidence of volcanic and other upheavals.
Giant's Head, the most westerly part of the hill, is believed to have been the site of a Druid temple, whose adherents were sunworshippers, and there have been finds supporting this belief, in golden torques, bracelets, and beads in ivory and glass. There were also cromlechs, presumed to be the graves of British chiefs and their wives. An old tale says that in a challenge to overthrow one of these cromlechs, two men were instantly killed.
Of the Roman occupation of the area there is ample evidence. Clawddcoch, meaning red rampart, may have been the Mediolaneum, a link between the Roman stations of Wroxeter, Uriconeum and Segontium. Llanymynech hill is honeycombed with Roman mines, where they dug for copper, lead, and silver, which they minted into coins which are being found even today.
The Causeway Lane is a former Roman road, and from the Ogof (cave) on the hill are supposed to be subterranean passages to Carreghofa Hall and other places of escape and communication. No wonder the Ogof was said to be haunted by spirits good and evil, having mystical significance, where giants and ogresses dwelt, terrifying the countryside when in anger.
When the Romans were recalled to defend their country, they took with them the three legions, leaving Britain at the mercy of the new invaders - Picts, Scots, Saxons, Danes. The infiltrators were the Saxons, against whom several bitter battles were fought.
In the old Welsh triads, one significant reference, "Three things from which to flee: the Saxon invader, the thunder bolt, and the Severn floods."
A bitter battle was fought at Clawddcoch in A.D. 634 between Edwin of Northumbria and Cadwallon, a Welsh prince. There were also battles at Carreghofa Castle and Buttington. These continuous skirmishes prompted the now mighty Offa, King of Marcia, to build Offa's Dyke in 756, which runs from Prestatyn in the north to Chepstow in the south, a part of which runs through the village along the churchyard wall, in front of the Lion Hotel, along the street by the Cross Keys, skirting the western point of the hill to Llanyblodwel onwards. The purpose of the dyne, which was twenty feet high and ten feet wide, was to prevent the Welsh from marauding the Mercian territory. A second dyke, called Wat's Dyke, was built a few miles east, and the territory between the two dykes was no man's land, and trading between the Welsh, Saxon and Dane was allowed unmolested. Violation of either territory was severely punished by the loss of the right hand or even hanging. Llwnygroes, the Cross in the Grove, is to be the sight of one gallows, while the other, Erw Grogbren, the Gallows field, was supposed to be on the Causeway Lane.
The next invaders were the Normans, whose policy it was to build castles as fortresses, linked with Monasteries and Churches. These castles followed approximately the Offa and Wat's Dykes and became known as the Welsh Marches, and so we have Montgomery, Welshpool, Oswestry, Chirk and Whittington Castles dominating this immediate area.
Fierce battles were fought against the Normans, the last at a site called Gernyvirgin, near Carreghofa Castle. It fell into the hands of the Fitzallans who had been given Oswestry Castle.
ECCLESIASTICAL
There was an oratory or monastic cell in the sixth century, but the first record of a church was in 1250, when Madoc was the Rector. It was possible he may have been on one of the crusades and returning via Sicily, heard the story of St Agatha (to whom the church is dedicated), who was burned for her faith in A.D. 251.
The meaning of the name Llanymynech is open to two interpretations, Llan meaning an enclosed area, usually around the church, Mynach means monk, so Church of the Monks. Some sources suggest it might also mean "mynwyr", as spelling was very arbitrary in those days, which could also mean Church of the miners, mining being an occupation since Roman times.
Near the church, the pillars of which still stand, was a large structure known as Siamber Won, the White Chamber, presumed to be a monastery of the order of Mendicant Monks or Begging Friars, poverty being with them a sacred rule. Later it became a Nunnery for the White Order of Nuns. In the graveyard there used to be a plot known as the three nuns' grave. Later this building was adapted as dwellings, the last reference to it being in the Overseers A/c in April 1842, that it was occupied and rates legally excused. In the Rectory field was a pigeon cote, built to accommodate 1,000 pigeons, which were an integral part of monastic life, the birds providing food and serving as message carriers.
The present church is the last of at least three Churches. An earlier Church was built of rubble and oval stones from the bed of the nearby river. Glass tax was particularly heavy in those days, necessitating economy in windows. An entry in church expenses was glass tax 7s. 6d. Another interesting item indicated Church music was enhanced by Robert Baugh playing on a bassoon, Dr. Llewelyn of Vyrnwy Bank on a bass viol, and Richard Taylor on a clarinet.
Holy Wells were a feature of Church life, and in Llanymynech were - The St. Agatha, baptism well, situated in the Town field, which was opposite Bradford Terrace; Daulby's Well near the present railway station; and Bennion's Well, location uncertain. All Feast Day ceremonies were associated in some way with these wells. St Agatha's--patron saint day--was on February 5th, initiating a week of merrymaking, usually called Wakes.
Thomas Baugh of Crickheath bequeathed to the poor maidens and widows of the parish the interest on twenty pounds to be distributed at Christmas, known as the widow's half crown. There were also about twenty red cloaks available for poor women, called "red soldiers".
PAROCHIAL
When villages enjoyed an identity of their own Llanymynech was quite a busy center. Three important fairs were held - April Fair held on, or approximately, All Fools Day for the sale of pigs, sheep and cattle; May Fair, held on Oakball day, notably a sheep fair, where hundreds of sheep from the Berwyns and Radnor were brought to the village the previous night and turned into neighboring fields. The most important fair was Michaelmas Fair, held around September 23rd for the sale of horses, foals and especially Welsh ponies and piebalds, the latter being the favourite with gypsies who frequented this fair. The last fair was held in September 1927.
The sale of livestock finished mid-day, after which stallholders put up their "standings," from the Corner Shop to the Lion. The wares included Cheshire cheese, honey, pitchers and pots from Whitchurch, cheapjack stalls, a shooting gallery, etc., finishing up with a treacle bun competition.
On the corner, where Mr. Gnuar's garage now stands, was the Market Stall, just a small wooden structure, a picture of which used to be on view at the Powysland Museum, Welshpool. Here venders of farm, dairy produce and poultry, etc., paid a toll before taking positions along the street to display and sell their wares.
At one time there were seven Inns serving the village - the Bridge Inn, the Red Lion (now called the Lion), The Old Coach (now called the Bradford Arms), the Cross Keys, the Sun, the Dolphin 1517 ( in those days called the Holly Bush Inn, name changed because of some connection with the Godolphin family who owned Bryntanat), and the Miner's Arms on Penyvsel.
In the coaching days, horses were changed at the Cross Keys, the Coach and the Red Lion. The "Nenle" and the "Engineer" coaches ran between Chester and Newtown, "The Royal Oak" between Llanyfyllin and Shrewsbury. Single fare by coach from Llanymynech to Oswestry 2s. 6d.
The village stocks were situated on the village green where the War Memorial stands. Here offenders were committed, much to the scorn and laughter of the lookers on. There was also a lock-up, and a pinfold where stray animals were impounded.
On the Vyrnwy near Clawddcoch was a ferry, where flat bottomed boats collected pig iron, brought to the village in waggons from the Lloyds of Dolbranon (Pontrobert). The Lloyds were the Quakers and founders of Lloyds Bank. The pig iron was ferried to Pool Quay, thence, down the Severn to the Ironworks in the Midlands. Transactions of this iron trade took place in the Dolphin Hotel.
In the 1800's the Corner Shop was a By-Take or small farm. Behind the Cross Keys was a Well-house (wool house) for stapling wool, a malt house where the present Post Office stands. Behind Ashfield Stores there was a brickworks, and an important Rope Walk at the Station end of the playing fields where all kinds of rope was manufactured. Flax was grown extensively in the neighborhood, and in old records a dispute arose "because householders were required to grow hemp where corn usually was sowed." Every required kind of craft and trade was carried out in the village, as shown in the Census return for this period (around 1841).
The canal, at one time, was a hive of industry. In 1794 the Canal Act was passed, extending the Ellesmere and Denbighshire canals to Carreghofa. At its peak period, at least twenty-three boats were anchored on the canal. They carried stone, lime, and raffle to the Midlands and other parts reached by the waterway, bringing back to the village coal, flour and other provisions. The boats were drawn by donkeys and mules whose legs were fettered on arrival to prevent straying. A fly boat, drawn by a horse, came along every day except Monday, blew a horn to say they were coming. Needless to say there was much drinking and brawling. Eventually there was a Union of Railways and Canals.
Cockfighting, a popular sport of the day, was catered for, there being cockpits below Chapel Lane and on Penyvoel.
The first Friendley Society was formed at the Dolphin, called the Dolphin Club. Offa's Dyke Lodge of the Oddfellows opened at the Cross Keys in 1836, and the Friendship Lodge formed at the Sun Inn in 1874.
Nonconformity was strong in the neighboring areas, and persons were frequently imprisoned for their activities in holding religious meetings in their homes. Pant, Sarnau and Llandrinio have a long association with Congregationalism and Primitive Methodism.
Soon after the present bridge was built in 1926-28 a Miss Tanat from Oswestry, going to preach in Llandrinio, was thrown off her horse and drowned. It was not until 1864 that a Nonconformist Chapel was built in the village, the century of which was celebrated in 1964. Later, a Primitive Methodist Chapel was built in the Worn, Carreghofa.
Although comparatively small, Llanymynech can boast of a number of worthies, the greatest of which in my opinion was Richard Roberts, the great inventor, who has not in history had the eminence he deserves. Rev. George Griffith, Rector of Llanymynech, later became Bishop of St. Asaph, and a bitter opponent of Nonconformity. In 1652 he had a public disputation with Vavasor Powell, the eminent Nonconformist preacher, at Sarnau, on aspects of their different views on religion.
Sir Thomas Jones, of Carreghofa Hall, was Lord Chief Justice of the Common Pleas in the reign of Charles II, and retired to Carreghofa, where he died.
The Evans family of Llwyngroes were illustrious in the realm of map making, medicine, army, navy. One son, Rev. W.M. Evans was Curate at Llanymynech and was instrumental in building the National School, now called the Church House. Robert Bough, innkeeper of the Cross Keys, an assistant to Telford, engraved maps which John Evans of Llwynygroes designed. The " gentry" in those days were the occupants of Llwynygroes, Plasceriog, Tygwyn, Carreghofa Hall, and the Pentref.
With records going back to the dawn of history, it is inevitable that much of it is shrouded in mystery and legend. Doveston, in an old record, says about the Llanymynech hill: "Strange misteries fill yon hill, bones, cavern, camps and graves."
In this enlightened and scientific age much of the magic surrounding the hill has disappeared, but the
mystery remains, inviting the adventurer to delve further into the secrets still concealed.