The People's History Hiding around Snowdon

By Annie Whitehead

Pretty much everyone has heard of Mount Snowdon, or, to give it its Welsh name, Yr Wyddfa. It's there, it's big (1,085m) and it doesn't 'do' much. But take some time to not climb it and you'll discover some interesting history.

By 'not climbing' it, I mean take a walk nearby; you'll still have to scramble pretty high though so wear stout shoes!

Across the road from the base of Snowdon is Padarn Country Park and it's here where our tour begins. This was the site of the Dinorwic Quarry workshop and now houses the National Slate Museum. Admission is free, and you can still see much of the original tools and machinery. Look up at the hillside and you can also see how the quarry transformed it:

From there, you can walk trails which do, I admit, sometimes make climbing Yr Wyddfa seem like the easier option.  The trail I took brought me first to the Quarry Hospital. This was built in 1860 and is open now to the visitor who might wish to see how the hospital looked and operated in Victorian times. In fact, general surgery was still being carried out here as late as the 1940s. The rooms are now all laid out as in a museum and it literally smells like history. I felt a slight detachment until I went into the little building to the side of the hospital and stared for a while at the mortuary slabs.

Photo: Eric Jones - attribution link

There are some horror stories, that's for sure. Take Edward Jones, from Bethel, who needed to have both arms amputated; one at the shoulder and one at the wrist. Thanks to the doctors working at the hospital, a device was constructed which enabled him to hold cutlery and to take his hat off when going to Chapel on Sundays. The hospital boasted an X-ray machine, only three years after such things were invented. It also had, unusually for the time, hot and cold running water. The hospital was not able to help everyone, however. Deeply poignant was the tale of a young lad named Christmas - he was born on 25th December - who was crushed to death by machinery whilst working in the quarry. The hospital was a boon, though, meaning that injured men could be treated quickly.

The woodland trail is supposed to be one of the gentler walks which radiate out from the park centre. Somehow, though, I found myself on the Vivian Quarry trail, climbing higher than I meant to, but coming across the most vivid piece of history. Now, I'll be the first to admit that industrial history does not interest me overly much and a lot of the information about the quarry workings themselves was not of any special interest to me. But when I stumbled upon Anglesey Barracks, here, like the hospital, was another link to the men who worked at the quarry and spoke to me in a way that old wheels, giant bellows and engines simply couldn't.

'Anglesey' Barracks? Anglesey is not terribly near this area, so what was this all about? Well, these were cottages built to house the quarry workers who came from Anglesey, so that they could live on site during the week and return home at weekends. They would leave to go home on a Saturday afternoon and return to start work on Monday morning, so had at least part of the weekend away from the site. It all sounds very enlightened, doesn't it? Before I read up about it, I looked at these buildings and thought they were quite quaint, until I discovered that in each cottage, four men were crammed in, sharing the tiny space, roughly 20ft by 10 ft. The cottages had no running water, and there was only a coal fire for heating and cooking. Relics from the Victorian age? Incredibly, these cottages were still occupied in 1948, when a visit from the authorities saw them condemned, unfit for human habitation, and closed down.

Despite the appalling conditions, there was apparently a strong camaraderie, which saw the men gathering for choir singing and poetry readings. I can well believe it. These men lived and worked alongside each other and here, halfway up a hillside, was a mini-village. Ties of friendship and shared origins must have counted for a lot among these men from Ynys Mon (Anglesey).

Descending from here, once again it is clear how the quarrying affected the landscape:

The only way down from here is via a walkway piled high with enormous slate and you can get a slight feel for the hazardous conditions which prevailed here. I was just a tourist, walking on a lovely sunny spring day, but I wouldn't have cared to walk down this hillside in wet, slippy conditions, or to be working machinery or hefting equipment.

Here, too, is a reminder of people who lived in this area in ages gone by. In the distance of the photograph above, you can just make out Dolbadarn Castle (which will be the subject of my next article) which was the starting point for my walk that day. There is a rather tragic story associated with the castle, involving a man who was locked up there for many years, and which I'll relate next time. This landscape carries reminders of all the people who have lived and worked in the area over the centuries.

The next day, I went up Snowdon. It's a beautiful mountain and the views from the summit are breathtaking - almost literally, on a windy day - but what really caught my attention was a building halfway down the mountain.

This ruin is Hebron Chapel, built by the families who lived in the valley, the folk who worked the land, or in the quarries. They raised the money themselves, poor though they were, and built this Calvinist chapel. There seems to be some dispute over the completion date and I can't find the definitive answer, but the consensus seems to be that it was completed in 1797, which would have seen it completed only a decade or so after the first quarrying was carried out at Dinorwic, so perhaps the alternative date of 1833 might be considered nearer the mark. What can be said for certain is that it is now a ruin, yet another marker on this landscape to remind us of the ordinary folk who lived and worked in an area that, nowadays, we tend to think of as a natural playground for us to enjoy in our leisure time. A reminder, also, that history is all around us.

[all photos by and copyright of Annie Whitehead unless otherwise attributed.]

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Annie Whitehead is an author and historian, and a member of the Royal Historical Society. She has written three award-winning novels set in Anglo-Saxon Mercia, including To Be A Queen, the story of Aethelflaed, Lady of the Mercians. Her history of Mercia, from Penda the pagan king to the last brave stand of the earl of Mercia against the Conqueror, Mercia: The Rise and Fall of a Kingdom, is published by Amberley. Annie has a deep and abiding love of North Wales and its rich history and takes every opportunity to visit.

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History Revealed: The Welsh Highland Railway

by Annie Whitehead

A trip on the Welsh Highland Railway reveals more than just its own history; it allows the traveller to learn about centuries of Welsh history.

My historical research often takes me into the pages of the Welsh annals. It's true that the Mercians of the English Midlands often fought the Welsh, but it's also true that they allied themselves frequently to the Welsh princes to unite against a common enemy.

In the seventh century, Penda, (a pagan) and Cadwallon of Gwynedd (a Christian) banded together to wage war on Northumbria.

In the ninth century, Anarawd of Gwynedd gave fealty to Alfred the Great and Welsh troops allied with Alfred's son-in-law,  Æthelred of Mercia, (husband of  Æthelflæd, Lady of the Mercians) helping the English to defeat the Danes at Buttington in 893.

Ælfhere of Mercia, (whom I called Alvar) was also an ally of the Welsh. As earl of Mercia, his job was to defend the marches from incursions by the Welsh, but the chronicles often noted him aiding the Welsh in their internecine struggles. He aided Hywel ap Ieuaf against his uncle in 974 and again in 978.

It's not just my research that takes me into Wales, but my travels, too. And once in Wales, it's impossible to encounter only one period of history. The story of the land is everywhere, and you can see much of it from the railway.

Public Domain Image

The Ffestiniog Railway had already proved its worth in the nineteenth century in carrying people and goods through the mountain region of Snowdonia. In 1872 Charles Spooner proposed a new line linking the main railway at Dinas with Rhyd Ddu at the foot of Snowdon. It was only partially completed when it opened in 1881, and was only fully laid southwards through Beddgelert and the Aberglasyn Pass to Porthmadog in 1923. But, as I said, a trip on the railway reveals more than just the industrial past of Wales.

Embarking at Caernarfon, one cannot help but be awed, as the station stands in the looming shadow of the castle, built by Edward I (known as Longshanks) in 1283, and designed as a symbol of oppression, echoing the walls of Constantinople and reminding the Welsh that their princes were no more, and that Edward was now their lord and master.

Caernarfon Castle, photographed by my late father

But not far away we can see occupation of Caernarfon from an earlier time, at the Roman fort of Segontium. The Romans arrived in North Wales in 60AD, over a century after Caesar's first invasion. Their main objective was Ynys Mon (Anglesey) where they set about subduing the druids there. (See my earlier post.) In around 77AD Suetonius Paulinus established a fort at Caernarfon. It was named Segontium, and housed around 800 men. It was a base well-located for keeping control of both Ynys Mon and the Llyn Peninsular.

Roman soldiers murdering druids and burning their groves
on Anglesey, as described by Tacitus

The train journey takes you through the valley of the Afon Gwyrfai and through the village of Waunfawr. As it crosses the bridge over the Afon Gwyrfai it passes the old church at Betws Garmon.

Saint Garmon was a Gallican bishop who arrived in Britain in the latter half of the fifth century. He was best known for establishing schools and it it thought that Betws was one of these. Clearly the church is more modern, and has been rebuilt many times. In 1634 a small four-leafed clover was inscribed on the font in the rebuilt church, but no one knows for sure when the previous church had been built. Saint Garmon was also known as Germanus, and his mission was to combat the influence of Pelagius, who has been the study of a recent EHFA blog post by Kim Rendfeld.

The railway arrives at the foot of Snowdon and begins to climb. Somewhere around this area, JMW Turner must have sat for a while as he drew a pencil watercolour entitled Llyn Cwellyn.

Full citation for image at bottom of this LINK

Offering views back down the valley towards Llyn Cwellin and Mynydd Mawr (Great Mountain), the line curves sharply as the train heads towards Rhyd Ddu (Black Ford). Rhyd Ddu is believed at one time to have formed the pasture lands of Llewlyn Fawr (of whom more in a moment.) It remained a farming community until the middle of the nineteenth century when the slate quarries and copper mines caused the population to double in size. The village became home to a blacksmith and a postmaster, as well as a coal merchant, a dressmaker and a publican. This Welsh-speaking settlement also boasted three shops, a school, and a woollen mill. The downturn came in the latter part of the century, and these days there are no shops, although there is still a pub, and with the loss of the industry, the community makes its living from farming.

From the stop at Rhyd Ddu, the view is a choice between the looking up to the summit of Snowdon, or towards Beddgelert.

Mount Snowdon, or Yr Wyddfa, is the highest peak in Wales. Its name means 'burial place' and there is a legend attached to it. A cairn at the top of the mountain is said to mark the grave of Rhita Fawr, a giant who wore a cloak fashioned from the beards of all the kings he had killed.

The mountain village of Beddgelert provides more insight into medieval Welsh history. The parish church of St Mary's was built on an earlier, sixth-century site, which eventually became the nucleus of an Augustinian priory in the thirteenth century. The priory was endowed by Llewelyn ap Iorwerth, also known as Llewelyn Fawr (Llewelyn the Great). He married the natural daughter of King John, and his grandson came to be known as Llewelyn the Last, fighting, and ultimately losing to, Longshanks. The priory prospered, and became an important centre. The building was destroyed by fire around 1283/4 and restored by Edward I. It is said that his munificent act was prompted by the fact that it was the carelessness of his own soldiers which had caused the fire in the first place. The later history of the priory is a familiar one, seeing it damaged again by fire in the early sixteenth century and then being allowed to fall into ruin on the orders of Henry VIII. Only the chapel was left standing.

St Mary's, Beddgelert - image attribution

Beddgelert is reputed to have been named after Gelert, the faithful hound of Llewelyn Fawr, who had a hunting lodge in the area, and it's possible to visit Gelert's 'grave'. The story goes that the faithful hound was left to guard the prince's baby, only to be discovered with bloodied mouth and the baby missing. Llewelyn drew his sword and killed the dog, whose yelp caused the baby to cry out. Seemingly, the dog had in fact protected the baby from a wolf. Full of remorse, Llewelyn buried the dog with great ceremony.

Gelert by Charles Burton Barber - Public Domain Image

Travelling on from Beddgelert the train crosses the Afon Glaslyn and along the Aberglasyn Pass. It then goes through the Aberglasyn tunnels. Between these tunnels, at Plas-y-Nant, the story of Wales is brought nearer to modern times, with the location of circular gun mounting blocks, built for World War II 'Blacker' Bombards, 20lb anti-tank mortars. There is also a pill box dating from around 1940.

Since I first travelled on the railway, the line has been opened up further and a team of enthusiasts works hard to keep the engines running.

Wherever I go in North Wales, I encounter history spanning the centuries. Here on the little mountain railway, the same is true. With monuments, sites and buildings stretching from Roman times to WWII, it really is the tale of centuries, incorporating a wonderful mix of fact and legend.

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Annie Whitehead is an author and historian, and a member of the Royal Historical Society. Her first two novels are set in tenth-century Mercia, chronicling the lives of Æthelflæd, Lady of the Mercians, who ruled a country in all but name, and Earl Alvar who served King Edgar and his son Æthelred the Unready who were both embroiled in murderous scandals. Her third novel, also set in Mercia, tells the story of seventh-century King Penda and his feud with the Northumbrian kings. She is currently working on a history of Mercia for Amberley Publishing, to be released in 2018.
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