Christmas Poem

I hoped you would like to read a poem about a modern but traditional Christmas that I wrote some years ago before starting my history blog.

But once a year ...

 ... it comes, with spiced breath, lugging golden bags
of secret foraging from High Street stores
with packaged cubes of gift wrap, glitzy tags;

tucks berried sprigs on pictures, over doors,
gilds cards with instant merriment, then makes
a forest emblem, shimmer-lit. It draws

snow scenes on windows, sprinkles icing flakes
of sugar on mince pies, shortbread and calls
a warning to the children still awake.

Throughout this night a frosted silence falls,
the shambling magic beast has done its trick
again. The waiting time is here and all

the sleepers are the same as minutes tick
toward the dawning of coincidence:
the morning walk in new scarves; kisses; quick

large slurps of sherry; crackers; grand entrance
of turkey to red faces, paper hats
and hopeful dogs. We join the the pretence

that goodwill in the pudding feeds us fat
enough to lose a careless bit each day
until December - when the pit-a-pat

of Christmas padding comes once more to play
The wind is cold, next year is far away ...
the creature's begging. Why not let it stay?


If you enjoyed this terza rima verse, you might like some of my other poems on my website Formal Poetry and other idiosyncrasies. The topics range from love, poems about gardens to science and gender relationships. They all rhyme and many are humorous. For my account of a Medieval Christmas (in prose!) click here. Have a good time, everyone, many thanks for reading my work - back to castles, CAKE and Roman remains in the New Year.

The Medieval Christmas - would you have enjoyed it?

Food and drink
   As you look forward to a giant nosh on 25th December, you will recollect that at least 2 popular items were unavailable in the Middle Ages. Potatoes and turkeys were late-comers to these islands and the birds have been regretting their arrival ever since. What DID they eat in the great mansions and castles?
   On Christmas Day 1347 at Hunstanton in Norfolk, Sir Hamon le Strange and his household consumed bread, 2 gallons of wine (12d), 1 big pig for the larder (4s), 1 small pig (6d), a swan which was a gift from Lord Camoys, 2 hens given as rent and 8 rabbits of which 2 were gifts. If this does not seem much - read on.
   The bread for the lord in any important dwelling would probably have been made with white flour, so precious that it was sometimes stored in a locked chest and the lower orders consumed brown rye bread. All roasted poultry and animals demanded specific ways of carving: a mallard was "unbraced"; a heron "dismembered"; a coney "unlaced" and a hen "spoiled." This delicate work was done by rushlight. Other ingredients might be venison, fawn, kid, bustard, stork, crane, peacock, sparrow, baked quinces, damsons in wine, and a range of vegetables used in sauces rather than served independently. The wine could be Rhenish, Gascon or Spanish and Sir Hamon seems almost teetotal when we recall that Chaucer was allowed a gallon every normal day. No wonder The Canterbury Tales rip along and were never finished!

Entertainment
   William of Malmesbury relates how, on a Christmas night, 12 carollers (holding hands in a circle and skipping around the leader who sang) danced around a church and persuaded the priest's daughter to join them. He uttered a curse so that their hands became inseparably joined and, when the son ran out to save his sister, her arm broke off like a rotten stick. Better keep to Scrabble, say I.

   Yet there would have been music, dancing and performances of "disguising games" - in these plays, the emphasis was on roles exemplified by masks rather than words and scripts. Heroes were pitted against evils such as legendary giants. Edward III was so enthusiastic about these that, for Christmas 1338, he ordered 86 plain masks, 14 with long beards, 15 baboons' heads of linen, 12 ells of canvas to make a forest, a wooden pillory and a cucking [sic] stool. In 1347 he required similar but with some masks as women, angels, dragons' heads, pheasant heads and wings, swan's heads plus starry tunics, whilst, in 1348, he took part in such a mumming himself, dressed as a giant bird. We are going to try all this ourselves this year instead of charades - I have bagsied the role of huge avian.

Role reversal etc

  In the spirit of satire and merriment, household roles would be upturned so that a menial servant could become the lord and give orders to the higher ranks. This period of misrule lasted until January 6th, Twelfth Night. It is an entertaining idea and was no doubt hilarious in enactment, but it represents a serious belief in The Wheel of Fortune. All humans were attached to this wheel, spun by the blindfolded goddess and no-one could be sure of holding his or her position on it as it rotated: the fate of any one individual did not depend on virtue but on chance. The concept permeates King Lear although the play most representative of the traditions is, of course, Twelfth Night, which was first performed at the end of an elongated Christmas period on 2 February 1602 (Candlemas) and whose subtitle is What You Will, suggesting misrule. In it Sir Toby Belch and his cronies (mere guests) upset the order of Olivia's household - love and cross-dressing overturn everything else, including gender roles. The riotous habits of the aptly surnamed Sir Toby were stressed along with musical interludes whilst Malvolio, embodying austerity, is humiliated. Sir Toby's language probably contains obscene slang.
   It is likely that this period, from Christmas to Epiphany, seemed particularly dreary, rainy and frost-bound and so was transformed into a long holiday. Services required of villeins were suspended and manorial servants received their "perquisites", bonuses of food, clothing, drink and firewood, their traditional seasonal due. On Christmas Eve the Yule log, a massive section of tree trunk, was brought in and kept burning for 12 days. If the tenants were invited, they ate food mostly provided by themselves on their own dishes. (Does this explain how Sir Hamon managed to be relatively miserly?) A bean was hidden in a CAKE or loaf and the finder became king of the feast.
  If all this makes our dash to the supermarket seem a little soulless, remember that, in 1251, Matthew Paris complained that Henry III not only economised on Christmas expenses but demanded costly gifts from his subjects, staying in more lowly households which had to honour him with splendid entertainments and gold or silver cups or jewelled necklaces. I think I'll settle for the family crackers and quiz after all.

My personal memory of Christmas past
 After midday dinner all my relatives would arrive by taxi as no-one had cars and we settled down to gambling at unsophisticated card games and a well-worn horse-betting set-up called Backeroo. Tea consisted of cold chicken sandwiches and trifle: even during post-WWII rationing, my mother managed these (although obtaining lard was problematic). What I remember, apart from losing my pennies - this was not a child-centred epoch - is the horrid, sticky nature of the cards which developed little black greasy circles through over-use because of the paper shortage. Even now I marvel that you can buy lovely glossy playing cards so cheaply and actually enjoy handling them. (When she was plucking and dressing the fowl, my mother gave the infant me a claw to play with and I would pull the tendons to make it clench and relax. I have grown up to be quite unsqueamish and averse to gambling.)

You can read about entertainment provided by Roland le Pettour in the household of Henry II or search using the appropriate button on this blog for information on several great houses and castles in Monmouthshire and beyond. 2018 could be the time to follow me on Twitter (New Year resolution?) @BarbaraDaniels6. There is an intimidating list of books I have consulted on the right of each article but here I am especially indebted to Ian Mortimer and Joseph and Frances Gies.

Llewelyn ap Gruffydd Fychan

Llewelyn ap Gruffyth Fychan (easy for you to say!) is not to be confused with anyone called merely Llewelyn ap Gruffydd or the man called Gruffyth ap Llewelyn. If that makes you feel like a cup of tea and slice of CAKE, please go and indulge before reading on but bear in mind that "ap" in Welsh is a patronymic and tells you the name of the father of the person. Over time is has become reduced to a "p" and appears at the beginning of surnames like "Probert", son of Robert, or "Pugh", son of Huw (clearly the speakers were too out of breath climbing mountains to pronounce their h's.)  As you eat your CAKE you will think of others: Powell etc. Yet do not practise the initial "ll" sound simultaneously with your chocolate sponge - save that till later (the CAKE or the practice). Then put the tip of your tongue up against the hard palate behind your two top front teeth and say "ff" and you will make that genuine clicky sound that the Welsh have used for years to terrorise the English. Shakespeare got away with Fluellen and that was probably a wise move to make the leek-wearing warrior a popular, likeable and pronounceable character.

  My regular and devoted readers (love you all) who are endowed with a sharp acumen and instinctive faff filter will, by now, have concluded that I am flannelling (pronounced normally) and they will be right. We do not know much about him. What we do know is derived from our local and under-exposed hero, the chronicler Adam of Usk, Adda o Frynbuga. The other very tricky thing about Welsh is that the consonants change at the beginning of a word according to obscure grammatical rules intended to keep the English good targets for mockery when they attempt to learn the language. Brynbuga is the Welsh for Usk and the "b" has here become "f" - this cunning dodge makes use of a dictionary a teasing challenge for foreigners.

   Llewelyn ap Gruffydd Fychan (Vaughan) of Cayo in Cardigan, lived from 1341 to 9 October 1401 and joined the revolt against Henry IV, led by Owain Glyn Dwr. Adam calls him a "man of gentle birth and bountiful, who yearly used sixteen tuns of wine in his household". Because he was "well disposed" towards the rebel cause, he was executed in Llandovery on the feast of St. Denis, October 9th, "in the presence of the king and his eldest son, and by his command, drawn, hanged, and beheaded, and quartered." It is not crystal clear whether the son was Hal, the future Henry V of Monmouth, or Llewelyn's.  (He probably had 2 sons fighting in the rebel forces.) By the standards of the period, he was quite elderly when tortured in this way. It must be noted that 16 tuns is a remarkable amount of wine and suggests that much generous tippling with guests went on annually on the rich household. Another story tells that Llewelyn deliberately led the English forces the wrong way whilst pretending to take them to Glyn Dwr but Adam merely states that he "willingly preferred death to treachery."

   In 1998 a campaign was started in Llandovery to construct a memorial to this rebel, sometimes called the "Welsh Braveheart". Money was raised locally and from the Arts Council of Wales and, after an exhibition of proposed designs in 2000, a public vote secured the commission for Toby and Gideon Peterson of St. Clears (pronounced "Clares"). I do not know what the others in the competition would have been like but this is the most impressive statue I have ever seen as it stands on the motte of the ruinous castle overlooking the car park. It is 16 ft tall and made of stainless steel which glows in the sun and glowers in cloud: on its base of Cayo stone, it is a figure with empty cloak, helmet and armour representing both the universal nature of Llewelyn's actions and the violence of the mutilation of his body. You will have noted that the drawing of the entrails was the first torture, during which he would have been alive. The artist described it as depicting a "brave nobody."
  Even I, tireless devotee of public transport, would not really suggest a pilgrimage from the east especially but, if you are going to Pembrokeshire on the A40, do stop in Llandovery car park and eat your sarnies gazing at the statue and climb up afterwards to admire it in detail. It is simply stunning.

I have written about Owain Gly Dwr and his rebellion (as has Shakespeare!) and about Adam of Usk who seems little recognised as an important Medieval chronicler, though I am delighted that my blog post has received hundreds of hits. Henry V and Monmouth Castle are the subjects of other articles here. "Llan" at the beginning of Welsh place names means "church" or parish usually of a particular saint (Llandeilo, just down the road and very pretty, means "parish of St. Teilo") but here refers to the meeting of 2 rivers. It is twinned with Pluguffan in Brittany (finish your CAKE before embarking on that one.)

The Monmouthshire Warrior in the Middle Ages

 The medieval fighters of Gwent/Monmouthshire
  We know a certain amount from various sources but one seminal writer on the topic is Giraldus Cambrensis who toured Wales with Baldwin, Archbishop of Canterbury, in 1188. He kept a kind of diary (I have no doubt that today he would have been an enthusiastic and diligent blogger) and, as one of his motives was to drum up support for the Third Crusade, his notings of military matters are crucial to our understanding.
  He commented that the men of Gwent "have much more experience of warfare, are more famous for their martial exploits and, in particular, are more skilled with the bow and arrow than those who come from other parts of Wales." He quotes events from the capture of Abergavenny castle where the arrows penetrated the oak doorway of the tower, almost as thick as a man's palm, and where the infamous William de Braose told a riveting (pun intended) tale. In this account a Welsh bowman shot an arrow through a rider's thigh despite protection by cuishes, then though his leather tunic, part of the saddle and deeply into the horse, killing it. Another fighter, similarly pierced, wheeled his mount round and was impaled on the other side, pinning him twice to the animal.
   Giraldus sums this up: "It is difficult to see what more you could do, even if you had a ballista". Quite so, Gerald of Wales. These bows were carved out of dwarf elm trees, not very large but sturdy, and left unpolished: in his view they were particularly useful at close quarters. In general, the archers were usually, as John Keegan states, "from remote and rustic areas ... with time on their hands." They were often not considered worth a ransom.

The longbow
   It is generally accepted that the English longbow was borrowed from Wales and evolved to become a formidable weapon, by the 13th century coming to measure around 6ft. It had a complex construction of different woods and required great strength and skill to manipulate. A shorter bow drawn back as far as the nearside of the chest had some force but the taller one taken further back as far as the ear was a winner - this change dates from the first decades of the 14th century. The yard-long arrows took 3 times as long to make as the bow, needed goose feathers from the same wing of the bird for even flight and were tipped with metal bodkins. This explains why they were frequently retrieved from the dead on the battle field.
  It was Edward I who was mainly responsible for recognising the potential of the longbow, ironically largely because of his encounters with it in the hands of his enemy, The rise of the English infantry to be a real power in Europe depended on the longbow drawn to the ear and he developed such trust in it that he had an archers-only corps of 800 men in 1277 from Gwent and Crickhowell who gained, as mercenaries, an unusual 3d per day. The arrows could penetrate chain mail and chroniclers report victims looking like hedgehogs with bristling spikes - bowmen were more often combined with other forms of infantry or even cavalry. A rain of arrows caused a "funk" sending a soldier into a kind of distraught madness even if he were not hit.

It could take 10 years to train an archer and they developed enlarged pulling arms and shoulders as has been seen on skeletons. Edward III issued a declaration in 1363 that "every man in the ... country, if he be able-bodied, shall, upon holidays, make use, in his games, of bows and arrows ... and so learn and practise archery." He recognised that this would give him a pool of skilled men for recruitment in war. By contrast, the French rulers discouraged such training for fear that the plebs would use their proficiency to rise up in revolt against them. They perhaps regretted this after their defeats in the great battles of the Hundred Years' War. It should be noted that archers were also used on ships and stood on the "castles" to fire.

England/Wales v France
  Crécy was perhaps the battle of the non-Hundred Years' War (I was baffled by the arithmetic when I was at school) most affected by the longbowmen. 2000 of them were taken from South Wales to a resounding victory over the French who were blinded by the sun: at least 10000 of the enemy died, many of them noblemen. We will skip over Poitiers where the bowmen committed atrocities and move on to Agincourt where the arrow-scarred Henry V (injured by a Welsh shot at the Battle of Shrewsbury and captured in his portrait in profile to hide this) won another round of the contest. Again French losses vastly outnumbered the English. In a conversation with Fluellen after the battle, the Welshman refers to Henry's great-uncle "Edward the Plack, Prince of Wales" fighting a "most prave pattle here in France" in which the Welshman did good service ... wearing leeks in their Monmouth caps" as the King does on "Saint Tavy's day" because he is, as he acknowledges, Welsh himself.
 On a sourer note, we can infer that some regarded as treachery, Welsh service to the English cause.

Henry V was born in Monmouth Castle and, if you are interested in the ballista, there is also a post on this blog about such Medieval weapons. I am indebted to Reginald Bosanquet for the detail about goose feathers which, at first, seemed rather like the tale I once believed that it was best to buy a left leg of Welsh lamb because they built up flesh on that side by circling the mountains clockwise.

Roman Bath: a natural phenomenon - a few facts!

A Famous Site/Sight
  Everyone is familiar with the spectacle of this ancient Roman bath in Bath with steam rising atmospherically from the hot water. Most people know that this falls as rain on the Mendip Hills, percolating down several thousand feet where geothermal energy raises its temperature to between 69 and 96 degrees C. It is then forced upwards through fissures in the limestone and 1,170,000 litres of it emerge here at 46 degrees C every day (117 F) from the aptly named Pennyquick fault. In old money that is about a quarter of a million gallons per diem. It contains 43 minerals including the iron which colours the stone, magnesium and calcium.  Put differently, 13 litres per second flow in, cool down a little and join the flow out to the river, thus constantly refreshing the pool every 8 hours.
   It was the energetic Victorians who uncovered the site and erected embellishments such as the statues. Before the Romans, the Celts had worshipped here, paying tribute to Sul (m) / Sulis (f) as they were not too particular as to the gender of their gods. They cultivated a layer of dirt on the skin as protection but the Romans were more picky about cleanliness and also disliked the swampy territory which they drained effectively.
  Nowadays there are 4 main features of the site: the Sacred Spring; the Roman Temple; the Roman Bath House and the Museum. The flintstones on view, found in the Spring, indicate prehistoric inhabitants.

The Sacred Spring overflow

Did You Know?
   The statues of Roman emperors and generals are mostly Victorian but that of Julius Caesar is more modern. He tried twice to conquer Britain but it was the unlikely Claudius who succeeded. It is therefore only proper that the statue of Caesar was pushed into the pool in the 20th century and that his absence was not noticed for several days as it lay in pieces at the bottom of the water. A third humiliation!
  The Romans knew that dirt was linked to disease and, because doctors were expensive, bathing and healing by the gods were favoured. This water was believed to treat many diseases including gout and leprosy, a term which was loosely interpreted to cover any skin disease. People came from France, Italy, North Africa and Belgium to be cured.
   There was a roof over the 5ft deep pool - which would have made the site quite dark - and the bath floor is lined with 45 sheets of Roman lead. In some of the alcoves the brickwork (which would have been brightly painted) and mortar are original and signs can be seen of secondary raised paving where the Health and Safety experts decreed its necessity.

   These spoil sports are still around today and bathing is forbidden, although I could not resist trying to cause alarm. Yet no-one has found a way of telling the pigeons about this and, every morning, when all is quiet, these birds come to disport themselves. I have had many a lively discussion with my elder daughter on the issue of pigeons receiving the Dickin medal for services rendered in WWII, her point being that they are too stupid to recognise danger and therefore demonstrate courage. Any creature that knows where to take a daily hot mineral-laden bath is clever by my reckoning and the 3 that helped to save stranded airmen deserved their recognition in Dec. 1943 for "conspicuous gallantry or devotion to duty." Rats also like to exercise and swim lengths at dawn but have never been thus celebrated.
  Businesses grew around the baths to meet the needs and desires of visitors: massage, olive oil, towel rental, beauty treatments, snacks such as oysters, fish sauces, honey and mead all contributed to a Grand Day Out.
  The Romans, although doubtless cruel at times, did make attempts to integrate with the locals and here amalgamated one of their gods with corresponding features to that of the conquered, leading to the creation of Sulis Minerva, the female characteristics winning through.
   The baths were probably very noisy: Seneca describes the din caused by the grunting, hissing and gasping of dumb-bell swingers, smacking sounds made during a massage, a loud argument with a pickpocket, a yelp as someone has his armpits plucked and the calls of the sausage vendor.

The workings

   Soap was quite a late German invention and was avoided at first by the Romans because they thought it reddened the hair. Instead they used oil often mixed with fuller's earth or pumice, applied when the body was sweating and scraped off with a curved instrument called a strigil, perhaps by a slave who cleaned up afterwards. The slave, if the bather could afford one, might also watch over the master's clothes and possessions and, if any were stolen, curse tablets relieved the feelings of the victim with their strong words. Scribes sometimes were hired to write down the imprecations.
   I have used the pronoun "he" throughout (tut tut) although women also used the baths and it took the stern Hadrian to prohibit mixed bathing, fearing its immorality. Probably the women then used the east  and warmer end and the men the colder west.
  There are only 3 hot springs in Britain and they are all in Bath. I have been told several times that extremely fat fish breed near the warm outlet in the river but I have never managed to see them.

It is well worth taking the hourly free guided tour: I am indebted to Laure for some of this recondite information and, of course, tea afterwards in the Pump Room is obligatory - they do not seem to mind 3 people sharing the three-tier rack of dainty sandwiches and CAKE.

The other munchers are aghast at my sodden appearance.   

I went to Bath by train from Newport and braved unforecast heavy rain for your edification. Nearer to home, the baths at Caerleon are a favourite of mine, as is the huge amphitheatre, remains of barracks and interesting museum there. The Roman town of Caerwent is not far away with its magnificent stretch of ancient walls.

Monmouthshire in the 14th century: prosperity and plague

Chepstow Castle, a crossing point

Prosperity
   Monmouthshire in the 14th century was relatively accessible from England and became quite affluent, particularly in the towns which grew up (some around castles) such as Chepstow, Abergavenny, Monmouth, Newport, Tryleg and Caerleon. The county had a higher ratio of castles per square mile than any other similar region of England or Wales, except Herefordshire and Northumberland. To get my tenses right - it still does and therefore has a record number of post-castle-visit CAKE opportunities. Even though some fortresses were starting to fall into disrepair, several were sufficiently comfortable and welcoming for leading English lords to spend time in them, Henry V being born in Monmouth.
   These lowlands of the south-east were also appealing because of their good hunting: a well-stocked park in Grosmont made it a favourite residence of the House of Lancaster and the towns offered specialised crafts and services, weekly markets and twice-yearly fairs. A suburb of Abergavenny was called Englishton and several spots were the homes of Benedictine priories, outposts of northern French monasteries.

The River Usk from the Flood Route or Noah's Ark Route

   Manors grew wheat and the River Usk provided salmon, prized as far away as East Anglia. Wood and charcoal also formed an important part of the economy. More distant parts of the region were still thoroughly Welsh in language, customs and culture: 87% of taxpayers in 1292 round Monmouth had English surnames but the proportions were reversed in the district around White Castle. The men of Gwent were particularly skilled in military techniques, especially the bow and arrow, and were sought after in English wars against France. One detail I like from this tapestry of prosperity is that of the journey of Lady Elizabeth de Burgh of Usk travelling to her East Anglian estates in 1350, escorted by 130 horses and 28 hackneys, the menage quaffing an impressive 80 gallons of ale per day en route. If that makes you feel thirsty you may have a cup of tea with your CAKE.

Usk Castle

The Plague
   I have scattered the story of affluence with photographs because it is hard to know how to illustrate this next part of the story. Towards the end of the century Monmouthshire (Gwent) was composed of 5 great lordships: Abergavenny; Monmouth and Three Castles; Striguil (Chepstow); Usk and Caerleon; and Gwynllwg (Newport) - the latter now having the least visited ruined castle in the area. (Don't try to boost its numbers: the local council makes no attempt to make the relic accessible.) Changes in lordships caused by natural demise were disruptive but the advent of the Black Death was cataclysmic.
   There are many facts here which are only probable but the outline is clear: in the winter of 1348-9 the pandemic arrived and was known as "Y Farwolaeth Fawr" which does sound more ominous than the English version, "The Great Death". It killed between a third and a quarter of the population. Recurrent further outbreaks meant that economic recovery seemed nearly impossible: particularly distressing was that of 1361-2 which carried off the younger generation who might otherwise have revived the economy. In 1362, 36 of the 40 tenants of Caldicot are recorded as dead and only 114 labour services remained out of a previous 2000, though these figures might be cumulative over more years. Areas spared so far were devastated by the 1369 spread of this virulent disease. The county was overturned by such losses.

Caldicot Castle

   Yet there was some recovery despite the demographic collapse although it was the lower classes of men and women who scraped together money to satisfy the well organised lords' demands. This was, in some ways, merely a delay of inevitable consequences: labour shortages made demesne farming less profitable and many lords became long-distance, rent-collecting owners. Serfdom as a system was eclipsed and workers could now make demands on their lords. The peasantry became rebellious (schoolroom titters at the back about revolting peasants will not be tolerated) and there were risings against the lords in Abergavenny and ominous threats to Monmouth in 1381 which prompted John of Gaunt to fortify his castle there.

Monmouth Castle

What next?
   I can pick 3 words from my unlocked word-hoard to answer that question: Owain Glyn Dwr.

I have written a brief biography of this enigmatic man followed by an attempt at assessment. Many of my posts are about castles in Monmouthshire: you might like to start by reading about Henry V's birthplace: Monmouth Castle. An account of Marcher lordships goes a little further in explaining this aspect and there is an article on Medieval markets in the area.
On the right of this blog there is a rather daunting list of books consulted with gratitude but I am particluarly indebted to The Gwent County History vol. 2 for this piece.

Wells: the Bishop's Palace and gardens

Wells Cathedral is magnificent and I was stunned by it, as I expected to be. For some silly reason I had not entertained such high hopes of the neighbouring Bishop's Palace but I was even more struck by it and, particularly, its gardens. There you find the wells which give the city its name: water gardens are always special and these are the most atmospheric I have visited. I entered the main part of them through a small opening in the wall - there is something especially magical about vistas that open out after confinement - and was overwhelmed. Unfortunately the light was fading and, when I returned to take better photos, it drizzled. Some kindly people have suggested I use images from Google but I just know that my loyal followers prefer my amateurish but personalised efforts.

A brief history
  The site may have been occupied since prehistoric times because of the abundant supply of fresh water but the first episcopal buildings were established by Jocelin who became bishop in 1206. Succeeding bishops until 1500 enlarged the palace, built formidable ramparts, harnessed the water to make a moat and supply the city and created an impressive new opening from the market place. All these improvements emphasised the power and grandeur of the bishopric and later incumbents added lesser improvements such as the long south wall (Bishop Ken composed his hymns whilst walking there and I love to imagine him strolling along humming gently and intoning proudly when he had nailed it), remodelling of the gardens and embellishing the palace interior. Water often has a symbolic significance to us all and the most active spring here, St. Andrew's Well, has the same dedication as the minster, with the bishops controlling the supply from the 1200's onwards.
  Jocelin was favoured by King John and Henry III, who needed his support and who allowed him to develop the estate. He constructed 2 new schools, a hospital and a chapel - it is worth walking past the left hand side of the cathedral as these smaller buildings are lovely. A deer park was also part of his endowment, stocked with animals from the king's own estates, whose sensitivity to noise was respected by the diversion of the lorries carrying stones.

The gardens

  Be bold and, Alice-like, pop through the hole to discover the extensive water gardens, developed by Ralph of Shrewsbury from the marshy ground which had flooded uncontrollably until the 1330's. He created a moat which acted as a reservoir, and thus limited the inundations and made the building of water mills possible. He added a rampart with round towers and a gatehouse which had, with the permission of King Edward III, crenellations. The site covers 14 acres and demands labour from the Head Gardener and team - it has reflected the charging tastes in garden design over the centuries.
  It was Bishop Beckynton who built the wellhouse with a cistern to collect the water from the wells and maintain enough pressure to send it through a conduit towards the market place where any overflow washed away rubbish. Wooden bungs could be used to shut off the flow. Amazing engineering prowess.

The swans on the moat are still trained to ring a bell beneath the window on the left at the gatehouse to ask for dinner. They pull on the chain and demand fast food from the caretaker who lives there: mother swans teach their cygnets how to do this with dignity and an imperious manner in morning classes (not really - just checking you are still concentrating) and their sleek plumpness shows how successful they are.


2 (or 3?) not-so-peaceful items
  The palace was used as a garrison by troops in both the Civil War and the Monmouth Rebellion. Bishop Kidder and his wife were killed in the Great Storm of 1703 when 2 chimney stacks fell on them in the night whilst they slept. The Bishop of Bath and Wells has been recorded on Blackadder as a baby-eater but I am sceptical since they had fat swans for their delectation - though these probably belonged to the monarch.
  I lingered in the failing light as long as I could, wandering about and sitting on various seats including one of those swinging striped jobbies with a canopy that always seem to me the height of luxury and indolence. There is also an arboretum with a Dragon's Lair but I live in Wales where they are ubiquitous. If I lived in Wells I would come here daily to breathe in the atmosphere. Yet I was far from home, having journeyed through Bath from Newport by train and bus on the very well run local services. Anyway it was time for CAKE which I had in the cathedral café where they were asking people to donate crockery and glassware so that they could recreate the traditional afternoon tea - isn't that a soothing thought?

For my blog post on Wells Cathedral, click here. From there you can click on other links to cathedrals, castles and Roman remains and your afternoon will pass profitably until CAKE time.
For opening times of the Palace click here.

Wells Cathedral: fascinating and beautifully situated

One Exterior View of the Cathedral Church of St Andrew: Wells Cathedral
 As you stand on the green gazing at the west front, having entered via one of the 3 ancient gateways (Brown's Gatehouse, Penniless Porch or Chain Gate) recall that your feet are planted on a graveyard. Your eyes are fixed on a facade of unusually consistent architecture, being almost wholly Early English in style and not a medley as in many Medieval Cathedrals. The stone is Inferior Oolite from the Middle Jurassic period - I love that as I am not even sure if there is a Superior version!
  There are 3 horizontal layers, the bottom one being quite plain. The others showcase 300 sculpted figures - there were 400 originally - which would have been brightly painted in reds, blues and greens as has been deduced from some remaining flakes of colour adhering to them.  This is one of the largest collection of Medieval statues in Europe and the finest display of such carving in England. There are seated and standing people, half-length angels and narratives. The personalities include monarchs, Old Testament prophets and patriarchs, apostles, bishops and other holy individuals, many identifiable by their attributes. There are also the dead, joyful or despairing, emerging from their tombs on the Day of Judgement, some recognisable as royal by their crowns or episcopal by their mitres - although otherwise naked! The sizes reflect importance but the large statue at the very top of Christ in Majesty is a modern replacement of one badly damaged.

Inside

It is impossible in a blog post to describe all the attributes worth noting on the inside but these are the most striking in my opinion.
The scissor (strainer) arches: these are structural in an interesting way since they were inserted to sustain the weight of an extra storey added to the top of the central  tower which caused it to crack and lean. Between 1338 and 48 the master mason William Joy conceived this solution which proved stunning to look at and yet practical. The appearance is of an extra inverted arch on top of the more usual one.
The 'Golden Window' is so called because of the glowing yellow stain given to the 14th century glasswork depicting the Tree of Jesse which shows the lineage of Christ rising from Jesse, symbolising Israel, who lies on his side at the bottom with a tree or vine growing from his side. Wells has one of the most substantial collections of Medieval stained glass in England, despite damage by Parliamemtary troops in the Civil War.
Carvings: in particular, look out for the man with toothache as a capital in the South Transept. He is pointing to the place of pain with his index finger as if showing it to the dentist and is one of 11 such.
The misericords: these are little seats often with carvings underneath, so called because they gave the worshippers a merciful chance to semi-sit during a long service without appearing to do so. In Wells they are particularly fine and date from 1330-1340: 27 depict animals including rabbits, dogs, a puppy biting a cat, a ewe feeding a lamb, monkeys, lions and bats; 18 show mythological subjects such as mermaids, dragons, wyverns and the narrative of the Fox and the Geese. Such unchristian icons may have crept in unobserved, perhaps being the foible of the individual carver.
The Astronomical Clock: in the North Transept is a 24 hour, geocentric clock dating from around 1325, probably the work of a Glastonbury monk, Peter Lightfoot. The original mechanism is now in the Science Museum in London, still working. The Medieval face remains and shows the hours, the motions of sun and moon around a fixed Earth and the phases of the moon. The quarter hours are marked by Jack Blandifers (look upwards to the right) who hits 2 bells with hammers and 2 with his heels as jousting knights appear above the clock face. A second clock, working from the same mechanism, has 2 knights in armour as quarter jacks. In 2010 the official winder retired to be replaced by an electric motor - a pity say I.

Violence and peace:
   Dean Walter Raleigh (nephew of the more famous chap of the same name) was placed under house arrest here. His jailer was a shoe maker and city constable called David Barrett, who caught him writing a forbidden letter to his wife. When Raleigh refused to hand it over, Barrett ran him through with his sword and he died 6 weeks later on 10th October 1646.
   During the Monmouth Rebellion of 1685, Puritan soldiers damaged the West front, tore lead from the roof for bullets, broke windows, smashed the organ and furnishings and stabled their horses in the nave.

Look for this in the town

   In 1703, during the Great Storm, Bishop Kidder was killed when 2 chimney stacks on the Palace fell on him and his wife as they lay asleep.
   In July 2009 the Cathedral held the funeral of Harry Patch, plumber and firefighter, British Army veteran of World War I, "the Last Fighting Tommy", who died aged 111 years, 1 month, 1 week and 1 day - at peace after great violence.

 A Very Very Brief History of the name
Fans of Blackadder with be asking about the Bishop of Bath and Wells: after many disputes, Pope Innocent IV established this title in 1245 after the seat had moved between Wells and the Abbeys of Bath and Glastonbury but - it is a bit like saying there is no Father Christmas - none of them ate babies!
There has been a church here since 705 and a shrine in Roman times or even earlier.

The town of Wells is very appealing with the Vicars' Close, (probably the oldest purely residential street  in Europe), some interesting shops as well as the usual suspects and a thriving Wednesday market - but even more enthralling is the Bishop's Palace and gardens which utterly entranced me and which I will write about after a second visit.

I went by public transport from Monmouthshire via Bath and, on the way back, Bristol Temple Meads, and it necessitated an overnight stay but I intend to go again on an organised day coach trip. I have also written about Hereford Cathedral and Gloucester Cathedral and many castles and Roman remains - perhaps you could start with Raglan Castle and nearby Caerleon amphitheatre.
I am grateful to the Pitkin Guide and Wikipedia for information.
For opening times etc click here for the Cathedral website and you can also read my account of the Bishop's Palace and gardens.

Hereford Cathedral: imposing yet intimate

Hereford Cathedral makes a strong impression on the visitor and yet feels friendly with its warm stone and manageable size. The first building on this site some 1300 years ago may have been a modest thatched wooden construction, replaced later by a stone Saxon Cathedral dedicated to the Virgin Mary. The second patron saint was King Ethelbert who was brutally murdered by Offa: once his innocence had been established, he was eventually canonised. A bishop named Thomas Cantilupe, became St. Thomas of Hereford in 1320 and had a shrine erected to him - this became a place of pilgrimage. His feast day, 2 October, is still celebrated and you can see a banner showing his history designed by Jean Mobbs commemorating the 700th anniversary of his death. He was believed to have performed 400 miracles but had been excommunicated. When the ban was lifted, his various bones were sent around the country and finally came back here. Then comes St. John the Baptist a statue of whom, wearing his camel-skin coat with its head, can be seen in the north transept.

Look for:

   The corona, a magnificent suspended zig-zag or chevron construct of gilded stainless steel by Simon Beer, which seemed to me a symbol of the Crown of Thorns as it hangs above the central altar.
   A beautiful modern stained glass window in blues, called Ascension, by John Maine which pays tribute to the Special Air Service and its many connections to this neighbourhood..

   Three tapestries designed by John Piper for the 1300th anniversary in 1976 representing the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, the Tree of the Crucifixion and the Tree of the Future (Book of Revelation.)
   These are the possessions which made the most impression on me but the Norman pillars in the nave, the misericords, (I always love those as it seems to me they gave the relief of sitting on your suitcase on a crowded train) The Quire, St. John's Walk, The Lady Chapel, The Crypt and the gardens are also of great interest.
  Having a weakness for the sensational, I was particularly enthralled by the fact that the west end and its tower collapsed on Easter Monday, 1786. I always ask myself how ancient architects and builders coped without modern methods and clearly they sometimes failed - perhaps because of earthquakes - although the date is striking. A new west front was designed by James Wyatt but the resulting facade was deemed too plain and was replaced in 1908. The brightness of his nave reflects a movement away from the idea that those churches are best for prayer that have least light.

Mappa Mundi

By kind permission of the Dean and Chapter of Hereford Cathedral
and the Hereford Mappa Mundi Trust

   Mappa Mundi (you don't need to add 'the' because it is contained in the Latin term for Map of the World) is part of a separate exhibition along with the Chained Library. It is well worth the viewing but bear in mind it is not a travel map in the modern sense but a representation of the Christian world, centred on Jerusalem, on a single piece of parchment (prepared animal skin) dating from the late 1280's. East is at the top because of its religious significance and it was probably made in Lincoln by monks. (Incidentally, Hereford was never a monastic cathedral and is therefore termed secular).  There are pictures of Biblical and classical events, geographical features, peoples (some of them very strange) plants and animals. It is almost a chart of the Medieval outlook and is amazingly complex.
   You will benefit from a tour of this and the Chained Library which is, as the name suggests, a collection of ancient books with chains attached to their covers at the cut-page end with 2 hasps and a lock. Hand-written books were hugely expensive (remember that Chaucer's Wife of Bath became deaf in one ear by a blow after tearing a book). It is so atmospheric: 'modern' here means post 1801 and most of the books are in Latin though I was fascinated to know that the dictionary of my hero, Dr. Johnson, is on the shelves. These treasures make Hereford Cathedral outstanding.
    What is less well-known, perhaps, is that there is a also a truly modern working library with over 4000 titles available to borrow and a large reference collection. This contains theological works as well as biographies and books on the decorative arts, architecture and music. Visitors are welcome to use it and you can bring your own laptop. If I lived nearer I would inhabit it permanently! There are also unusual archives of Medieval manuscript books, early printed books, music, prints, drawings and photographs. Now that our local libraries are turning into jolly (?) community hubs, this is a rare find.

   I travelled to Hereford by bus from Monmouth and fortified myself with CAKE as usual in the café. Opening hours and other visitor details may be found on the website. You might also be interested in my account of Gloucester Cathedral or one of my castle articles such as that on Goodrich Castle. If you travel by car (tut! tut!) you could spend a lovely afternoon at Hampton Court Castle with its stunning gardens which is about 20 minutes away.

Hampton Court Castle and gardens - Herefordshire

The Hampton Court in Herefordshire is 100 years older than its more famous namesake, dating back 600 years on parkland by the River Lugg near Leominster in the village of Hope under Dinmore. It is a castellated country house, a Grade 1 listed building of Gothic and Gothic revival architecture, which sits in 935 acres. The word "hampton" derives from Anglo-Saxon and means "home place" which explains why there are so many towns etc ending in this suffix.
  The main construction of a quadrangular courtyard house was started in 1427 by Sir Rowland Lenthall on land that was a wedding gift from King Henry IV on Lenthalls's marriage to the king's cousin, Margaret Fitzalan, a daughter of the Earl of Arundel. Building had been taking place earlier when the king was Henry Bolingbroke and Sir Rowland went on to fight at Agincourt - all very Shakespearean.

Later ownership
  The palace or castle, whichever you prefer, has changed hands several times with each owner altering and adding to it so that the oldest remaining part is to the north. Some tended to make it more domestic but others reversed the trend and made it more of a castle according to fashion or inclination. The powerful Coningsby family bought it in the 16th century and stayed for 300 years, their name accounting for the theme of white rabbits throughout ("coney" means "rabbit").  After that it was purchased for nearly a quarter of a million pounds by Richard Arkwright, offspring of the famous inventor, whose son John lavished more money on it over a period of 12 years, though making some economies such as scumbling the woodwork in the dining room instead of installing true walnut panelling. (Some oak panelling had been sold off in the 17th century).

  The chapel is Medieval and would have been much more colourful than at present: the stained glass was sold in the 1920's though a little remains high up.
  The house is great fun although not all is as old as it seems since a U.S. millionaire, Robert Van Kampen, furnished it in the 1990's (to the tune of £17 million) according to his ideas of an English country house, adding armour and stuffed animals. Some complain about the lack of authenticity but I raise a cheer to him for spending his money to recreate his ideal for us all to enjoy.  No-one lives here any more but it is the fabulous setting for weddings and events and it has served as a military hospital.

The gardens
  I went there on a perfect July day and was bowled over by the gardens, taking a couple of hours to explore and absorb. They are beautifully maintained without being manicured and signage is kept to a minimum: I was amused to be warned of uneven surfaces near the river due to mole activity and half expected to see Ratty, Badger and Toad as well. There is a river walk of 45 minutes but I contented myself with the shorter one.

  There are more formal gardens with a water pavilion, a maze, a secret passage, a wisteria tunnel 150 years old and a sunken pond with a waterfall that some children were persuading their grandfather to go behind. One of them called out:"I love this place - I am having so many adventures." (So was grandpa!) This is perhaps because there are hidden things to discover, several paths to take to different parts, and a hollow tree with a door to hide in.

I was very taken with the Dutch garden which is a contrast to the wilder areas, being symmetrical with a rectangular pond and colourful potted plants. I sat here for a while contemplating and reflecting on how heartening it is to visit a place so carefully and yet so unobtrusively managed. You can have lunch etc with home grown organic produce from the kitchen garden in the conservatory designed by Joseph Paxton or you can bring a picnic and lounge on the grass. There is a shop but nowhere is there any sense of pressure to buy - yet I went burrowing in the archives of the local paper and found an advert of 19th May 2014 with a price tag on the site of £12 million. My piggy bank just isn't fat enough!

   This house and gardens make a Grand Day Out for all ages and will keep juniors occupied and active. I couldn't think of any way it could be improved and went home quite uplifted. Opening hours and details of events can be found on their website. This time I went on an organised coach trip with Jenson and the Gwent National Trust Association - so that counts as a Monmouthshire bus microadventure. Afterwards we continued the short distance to Hereford Cathedral which I have now described.

   A few of the other castles in or near Monmouthshire that I have visited by bus and written about are Raglan Castle, Chepstow Castle, Ludlow Castle and Caerphilly Castle. Then there is my home fortification of Usk Castle. Many of these articles are linked to others about the people connected with each castle's history.

Tintern Abbey: a guided tour by "Brother Thomas"

If, like me, you have formed your image of a monk from Chaucer's satirical account, you imagine a jolly, rounded, shiny lover of the luxurious life, particularly fond of roast swan. The Cistercians had formed their order much earlier in order to distance themselves from such laxity and lived very simply, dressed in white (or off-white) garments of undyed sheep's wool with no trappings. In the 12th century they set up in remote, wild Tintern, far from the temptations of rich living and were intent on following strictly the Rule of St. Benedict.

"Brother Thomas" who led us round the Abbey with his helper, Sister Mary, was authentically clad as a White Monk and was pleased that the weather was cooler and dry as his habit becomes unduly warm in the heat and smells of Labrador in the rain. He was tall and appropriately ascetic-looking but had a good sense of humour which did not detract from his informative and evocative talk. We followed him as he explained the history in the various parts of the Abbey and the daily life of the monks, bringing it all to life with details. One such was the fact that a monk did a circuit with a candle at the 1:30 a.m. service, holding it near each face to check that the cold, sleepy worshipper had not nodded off.

His black scapular indicates a senior monk

The history was given in palatable portions and we learned that there had been an earlier church before the present ruined one, the first endowed by Walter de Clare and the second by the Earl of Norfolk, Lord of Chepstow, Roger Bigod, and we ended with the Dissolution and later Romantic interest in this picturesque site.
Daily life
  Brother Thomas was in his role as Cellerer who would have looked after the supplies of beer and wine (the water was not safe to drink) conducting his business in the large open square of the main cloister. Here, too, would have taken place other activities: any dentistry; attention to minor wounds by the barber-surgeon (the red and white striped pole signifies blood and bandages); tonsure shaving; regular bleeding to balance the 4 humours of the body; some study and reflection and the financial dealings connected with the wealth arising from the 3000 sheep and 3 granges. Money was collected in buckets and the monks served generally as accountants and writers of contracts because they were literate. There was a vegetable garden here also.
   Time was measured at mid-day and from then on by water or candle clocks. There was no warmth except in the Warming House (a huge fire was lit on 31st October and extinguished on Good Friday regardless of the weather) where monks could pass through but not linger, and in the Infirmary, Parlour and Abbot's house. This was a silent order to prevent gossip as a distraction but conversation was allowed in the Parlour and speech permitted if a monk were learning from a superior.

The 3rd service began the day and all would come to the Chapter House to be given daily duties and small punishments. They would study lessons from the Bible and might be required to do some writing or D.I.Y. repairs. The library contained very few books by modern standards as they were all hand-written on vellum or parchment and the monastery's wealth was assessed by its holdings. Brother Thomas had an example for us to handle carefully. Windows were glazed and Sister Mary showed us some high-up remnants which she had devoted much time to finding. (If you can spot them you can have extra CAKE!)
Every stone was brought by river, unloaded at Tintern Quay and cut by hand. The only coloured glass was over the High Altar and we were shown where it had been with the arms of Roger Bigod who hoped to smooth his way to heaven.
 
The flooring would have been tiled and the masons were probably the same as those who built Chepstow Castle. We paused to look at the arrow-head marks which indicated individual mason's work and putlog holes which were - you've guessed it - where they put logs as joists.

   Food was consumed in 2 main meals: a breakfast and large mid-day lunch consisting of fish, cheese, eggs, bread and vegetables, a healthy diet which enabled many monks to live into old age. (I wickedly wondered if they sometimes poached a tasty mutton chop from one of those sheep.)  A light supper was allowed in case of illness but meat was otherwise considered to inflame unwanted passions. Cats and dogs as pets were forbidden but this rule was broken because of the need to keep down rodents and also because such animals afforded much-needed comfort in austerity. They were hidden away in a room when the Abbey was inspected as there was always warning of such a visit. Imagine the moment when they were all let out again!
   It was believed that illness was transmitted by impure air and there was a medicinal herb garden in the rear cloister near the Infirmary. In the later stages of the Abbey's history paying guests were admitted to be cared for and cured and the monks would also pray for their souls.

   Henry VIII dissolved the monastery as part of his huge programme of destruction: the monks did receive a pension and the Abbot a large allowance. The many lay brothers who did the agricultural labour were evicted and the building fell into ruin - to be much admired by Victorian seekers of the picturesque.
   I can thoroughly recommend this tour, particularly for its sense of immediacy: it happens almost every month and details are on the Cadw website. For my earlier post on Tintern Abbey, click here. There is a brief discussion of the Victorian notion of the picturesque. I have also written an account of Chepstow Castle with internal links to aspects of its history. Tintern is easy to reach by the hourly 69 bus from Monmouth through beautiful scenery: some of these conveniently become the 63 at Chepstow and take you on to Usk, where there is another fascinating castle and the burial church of Adam of Usk. CAKE is available in the nearby café at Tintern

Adam of Usk: an unsung local hero - or was he?

   Whenever my microadventures take me abroad into England, I always try to find a Welsh connection to famous sites. Even when overawed by the Tower of London I still looked out for this link and was thrilled to realise that Adam of Usk had been here on a historic mission: to visit the imprisoned King Richard II. He also met with other kings as well as popes but is little recognised in his home town although he maintained ties with Usk and the surrounding area throughout his life. At one time he was the incumbent of St. Cybi's Church, Langibby, in Monmouthshire near Usk.

His reputation
   He is probably buried in St. Mary's Church, Usk but, if you want to pay homage - and I hope to convince you that he is worthy of it - you have to go down the right-hand aisle, pass behind the choir screen to the eastern side, clamber over a lectern cunningly placed as an obstacle and peer at a small brass plaque in ancient Welsh. To be fair, there is a leaflet which translates this in the words of a Mr. T.R.N. Edwards: "Bring praise to the grave of one noble in learning. A celebrated London lawyer and a 'Judge of the World' privileged in wit, may heaven be thine, a scholar. A Solomon of wisdom, a wonder. Here sleeps Adam of Usk, eloquent, wise man of ten commotes. Behold, this place is full of learning." Even then the Welsh were not renowned for the succinctness - and neither was he.
   Who's Who in Late Medieval England, in an uncharitable summary, notes his tendency to self-aggrandisement: he "was once silenced by a bishop for an untimely display of learning. Vain and boastful, he probably exaggerated the eminence of his friends, the quality of his advice, and his influence on decisions and events, for he revealed himself to be a man without tact, sense of timing, discretion or judgement." You'd meet him in any Welsh pub any evening - and enjoy his company!

His life

Usk Castle

   What did he actually do then? Born probably in 1352 in the Gatehouse of  Usk Castle, he wrote a Chronicle in Latin, though apparently not in the purest form of that language, and not in strictly chronological order, starting with the coronation of Richard II and closing during the reign of Henry V. The value lies chiefly in the fact that he was present at many of the important events he describes. When he visited Richard II, he records: "I was present while he dined and I marked his mood and bearing." He went to Oxford under the patronage of Edmund Mortimer, 3rd Earl of March, and took the degree of Doctor of Laws and canon law. He pleaded in the court of the archbishop, Thomas Arundel for 7 years and writes of the trial of his brother, Richard giving the detail of how he was made to remove his belt and scarlet hood before being led off to his beheading on Tower Hill.
    His opinion on the downfall of Richard II is that one cause was the unruly behaviour of his 400 Cheshire guards "very evil; in all places they oppressed his subjects unpunished and beat and robbed them." An account of the famous encounter between the Dukes of Hereford and Norfolk has again the ring of an eye-witness version as he notes the wet ditch surrounding the appointed place as well as the fact that Hereford "appeared far more gloriously distinguished with diverse equipments of seven horses." We read also: "the matter of setting aside King Richard and of choosing Henry, Duke of Lancaster, in his stead and how it was to be done ... was commissioned to be debated on by certain doctors, bishops and others of whom, I, who am now noting down these things, was one." Momentous - as any reader of Shakespeare will agree.
The mundane side
   There are stories of a more domestic nature such as that of King Richard's greyhound which lay at his side "with grim and lion-like face" until that owner fled whereupon it found its way from Carmarthen to Shrewsbury to Henry IV where it crouched before this new master "with a submissive but bright and pleased aspect" and was allowed to sleep on his bed. The deposed Richard took it "sorely to heart" when the dog then refused to acknowledge him. This tale is mentioned also by Froissart.
   My favourite narrative is that surrounding the death of John of Usk, Abbot of Chertsey, who, with 13 brother monks, died of the plague. A brother, William Burton roused him from sleep, bidding him to be of good cheer for he would do well. The abbot replied: "Blessed be God! I shall fare well. Be silent and hearken!" The monk said: "Unto what shall I hearken?" I love his questioning mind as it is just what I would have asked. It seems he was supposed to hear angels singing but was unworthy and failed.
 His troubles
   Adam seems to have fallen from grace - probably for the theft of "A horse, colour black, saddle and bridle, value one hundred shillings, together with the sum of fourteen marks in cash, all the property of one Walter Jakes." In addition, he had unwisely been remonstrating with Henry IV on the faults of his government and vanished to Rome where he was well received by the Pope and given positions. He was deeply involved with the rebellion of Owain Glyndwr and writes about it - there are other elements of roughness in his life such as his presence in Oxford broils leading to loss of life between men of the South and Wales on the one hand and men of the North on the other. For this he was indicted "as the chief leader and abettor of the Welsh, and perhaps not unrighteously." There is much to like in this honest summary. On his return from Rome, he was again in trouble and had to go into hiding. He was prone to dreams and visions which were always notably apt and he seems to have been of a superstitious nature. The Chronicle ends on an anxious note concerning the rebellious attitude of the people over the taxation imposed by Henry V because of his French wars.
His Will
   He probably died in 1430 and had requested to be buried in Usk Church, though no-one knows exactly where.

Amongst other bequests, he left the Historia Policronica of Ralph Higden to his kinsman, Edward ap Adam and another book of theological wisdom to the church in Usk, the vicar receiving a legacy worth a few pounds in modern money. Some of the nuns of Usk Priory were related to him and they all received about half that: he had secured for them important concessions from the Pope in his lifetime. His main gift is the Chronicle of events from 1377 to 1421, with its vivid, if somewhat disorganised, sense of immediacy and personal involvement. It is available in a scanned edition plus translation by Edward Maunde Thompson which is admittedly quite hard to follow, originated by the Royal Society of Literature.

I fear I may have absorbed by osmosis some of his garrulousness and lack of cohesion here but I have become intrigued by him and will pursue my research further and let you know what I find. I'd like him to become better known although much what we believe of his life is speculation.

To read about the planting of Usk town by the Normans, click here. There are 3 posts about Owain Glyndwr, you could start with this one.  Usk Castle is also of great historic interest. My visit to the Tower of London led me to write about the menagerie that was once part of its identity. For more about Llangybi, click here.