The colour palette of North Devon and elsewhere in the UK is changing quickly. Fields remain a vivid green but are checkered with the yellow of reaped fields and fallowed soil. Burgundy and russet leaves hang from trees or skip along the streets in cutting winds. Autumn started warm and with vast cloudless skies but now I have to add that extra layer of clothing.
In late August I set off to Llyfrgell Genedlaethol Cyrmru, the National Library of Wales, an impressive building (both outside and in) set on top of a hill overlooking Aberystwyth and the Irish Sea. There, with the help of Assistant Librarian Menna and retired Archivist Glyn, I discovered the original documents that sent my ancestor, John to Australian shores in 1791.
Llyfrgell Genedlaethol Cyrmru, the National Library of Wales – opened 1932. It was undamaged during WWII but used as a marker by the Luftwaffe
Victorian terraces along the Aberystwyth seafront
From Aberystwyth I travelled to Cowbridge in search of a 5 x great grandmother. Cowbridge has retained much of its original footprint from the late 1700s … although far more sanitary and livable today. Cowbridge did not have town water until 1920 when a pump was installed.
In Cowbridge, Betty, from the History Society, took me under her wing, providing me with books and images, arranging a private viewing of the cells under the council chambers where I came face to face with the reality of claustrophobia and the Mari Lwyyd. Celebrated around Christmas and New Year, the skull was paraded through the village and songs sung to gain admittance to the house. Cowbridge still maintains this ancient tradition. Betty also drove me to St Fagans Museum of Natural History where buildings from various parts of Wales representing different eras have been dismantled, and rebuilt in a 100-acre parkland. She was keen for me to see and learn what life in the 1780s was like.
Today: Buff-tailed bumblebees are busy in the Physic Garden where all plants are medicinal
Yesteryear: Water was drawn from Silver Well situated outside the town on marshy ground
Face to face with Mari Lwyyd
The cell door clangs
The final weeks of September brought festival time to North Devon. Barnstaple hosted their annual fair which has the reputation as the oldest in the country with its origins believed to date from 930. Visiting dignatories and notable citizens of Barnstaple attend the opening and Hand of Welcome ceremony at the Guildhall. The Town Clerk reads the Fair Proclamation Hear ye, hear, ye … and God Save the King. He then leads a procession to each of the town gates where the Proclamation is repeated.
Barnstaple’s Welcome Hand extends from the Guildhall
‘Hear Ye, hear ye and God Save the King’
I took the opportunity to attend five events at the Appledore Book Festival … on the Thursday I had ‘Afternoon Tea with Liz Shakespeare’ The Ordeal of Miss Lucy Jones. Liz is a local author who writes creative nonfiction inspired by events that happened in and around North Devon in the late 1800s. I was thrilled to have the opportunity to talk with Liz about her approach to history and the thoughts I have on how to write my story. This was followed by ‘Sunday Brunch with the Authors’. Debut novelists, Jenny Godfrey The List of Suspicious Things and Fiona Williams The House of Broken Bricks and Louise Candlish Our Holiday with 16 novels to her credit, were in discussion with Veronica Henry. I followed this with Celia Imrie Meet Me at Rainbow Corner in conversation with the book’s researcher Fidelis Morgan. I finished my Sunday at Appledore with Phillippa Langley Princes in the Tower – has the Mystery been Solved?. Phillippa was in conversation with Martin Kemp. It was fascinating to hear Phillippa explain the forensic way in which she and her team search for the truth in history.
I have just returned from a second trip to Wales, Cardiff this time, to spend time at the Glamorgan Archives where I experienced the thrill, again, of handling 232 year-old original documents, this time sealing the fate of my 5 x great grandmother, Mary. A visit to the Museum of Cardiff, a museum concentrating on the social history of Cardiff, was beneficial to my story.
Walking the Taw River from Barnstaple to Bishop’s Tawton on a warm autumn day, wild blackberries quenched my thirst. I reflected on the desperation of my early ancestors and wondered did they too eat the blackberries in season and what else did they scavenge from the hedgerows and fields.
I continue to enjoy my Barnstaple friends, the town and the surrounding villages. My research takes me to interesting places and spaces.
My friends, Faye (left) and Sue (right), notable Barnstaple citizens at the Guildhall. Faye, was a councillor for 30 years and mayor for one. Sue is the current president of The Inner Wheel. PS I was not one of the notables!
From Barnstaple – bye for now.
Jan Conway