Barnstaple is feeling very much like home as October is sliding by. It is easy work to be productive each day as it is a peaceful and inspiring location on Alexandra Road and I am enjoying having the freedom to write, edit, and research my novel without distractions. I walk every day and, when I need a break, I enjoy short trips to places like Appledore and Bideford on the bus.
Recent research has led me to visit the town of Shrewsbury, in Shropshire. It claims itself as a Saxon town but was probably once a Welsh tribal capital. Shrewsbury is a Tudor wonderland, and the birthplace of Charles Darwin. After a period of war, plague and famine, Shrewsbury experienced a revival between 1550 and 1650, when many of its half-timbered houses were erected. I stayed at the Lion Hotel on Wye Cop, a 16th century former coaching inn, and was so thrilled to have a room facing the street, with a view of the many beautiful Elizabethan buildings. The inn was a favourite of Charles Darwin, is supposedly haunted, and was where the Beatles stayed in their heyday.
Shrewsbury
Charles Darwin
Shrewsbury
I wandered through narrow medieval narrow lanes, Wye Cop (Hill Top) and Dogpole to mention a few, with the sole purpose to seek out sites connected to my protagonist, Joseph Lycett. The town is visually inspiring, and I wanted to learn more about his unfortunate time here. Shrewsbury is the place of his trial, and incarceration in the notorious Shrewsbury Prison, and where Emma Lycett was baptised at St Mary’s, while Joseph waited to go to the hulks.
In the Square off High Street was the site of the old Shire Hall, and where I found the Old Market Hall, dated 1595. It once housed the corn exchange on the ground floor and on its upper levels, the many drapers of the area brought in bolts of woollen cloth to sell at the market, some travelling in from North Wales by pony. As the town has had several Shire Halls over the years, the Market Hall was often used by the courts on the Oxford Circuit for the Salop Assizes. Although the Old Shire Hall no longer stands, I tried to imagine the countless appearances Lycett had made at the assizes before they passed sentence on him. In its place stands a modern shopping arcade, but the historic setting of the square still managed to fuel my imagination, as it looks much the same as it did in Lycett’s time. I was spellbound to the spot. In a coffee shop, called the Cat’s Pyjamas, I pondered its place in my narrative. At the Shrewsbury Museum, I learned about the town’s history and visited the library and school where Charles Darwin was educated.
Market Square
Shire Hall
Shrewsbury
St Mary’s Cathedral, an ancient church which dates from Saxon times, was a wonderfully peaceful and moving place to visit, purely for its architecture and human endeavour. Situated on St Mary’s Street since 965 AD, it has seen many alterations over the centuries. Mary Stokes baptised Emma, Joseph’s youngest daughter, here in 1812. The original octagonal font still stands and is surrounded by flying stone arches and magnificent German and Dutch stained glass windows dating from the 16th century. Above it, the oak-carved ceiling is a marvel and I sat and contemplated the scene. One of the volunteers took me on a very informative tour and highlighted the many memorials placed in the church, including one dedicated to the Lycett family. I learnt that the original spire in the church fell through the nave in 1894. The vicar of the day is said to have preached to the congregation, that it was an act of God that brought the spiral down to punish the parishioners for planning a statue memorial of Charles Darwin to be erected in front of his school in 1897.
St Mary’s Church
Font, St Mary’s Church
Stained Glass Windows, St Mary’s
I walked through Castle Street and up some steps, where I crossed the railway lines over the Dana Bridge, a covered walkway known for its train spotters. I emerged just beneath the castle wall and came face to face with the three-storey Shrewsbury Prison known as the Dana. Its imposing Georgian facade still houses its original prison doors and stands near the Severn River, at a distance from the town. In 1777, John Howard, sheriff and English philanthropist, made a report of the state of prisons in Great Britain and declared them ‘corrupt, barbaric, disorganised and insanitary’, plagued with disease and filth.
I entered the prison, built in 1795, for a 90-minute guided tour. The remains of the Georgian sections of the prison sit underneath the Victorian additions to the building, and only its tunnels and archways remain. Looking down into them filled me with fear and horror. There were 200 offences that attracted the death penalty in this era, and life was miserable if you found yourself placed here, as Joseph did, in early 1810-1811.
‘Labour without purpose’ was the philosophy of the day, and inmates were forced to engage in pointless punishments, such as grinding heavy sand boxes by hand at 1000 turns an hour, labouring on treadmills that produced no grain, and shot drills that involved ferrying heavy cannon balls across the yard, only to repeat the process all over again. Prisoners were separated by social class and fifteen or more were held in cells housing both genders. The lower classes were placed in lockups on the bottom floors of the prison that were windowless, had no natural light and were infested with vermin. Every prisoner throughout its long history and up to 2013 had to have their head shaved upon entering the prison. It is not surprising that extreme violence and rapes occurred.
Pregnant women avoided the noose until their babies were born. In such conditions, without food and sanitation, it was highly probable that you would perish before your sentence had concluded. Joseph was up on the third floor of the prison in a windowless cell with only vents to let in the light. The weather would have been his worst enemy as it filtered rain and wind into his room. He had money to bribe the guards and, with the support of his friends, was able to keep other prisoners from sharing his cell. His wife could visit and bring him food and he completed several commissions in this period to support himself and his family. It was a most sobering and grim experience to see the conditions that the inmates had to endure. When I sat in the execution room where no less than 63 executions had taken place, I despaired at the length human beings went to, to rid society of so many people who had done no more than steal a ribbon. The last hanging here took place in 1963. The condemned murderer was later found to be innocent, after his brother, admitted to his family on his deathbed that he was responsible for the murder that his brother had hanged for.
Shrewsbury Prison
Georgian Governor’s Quarters
Prison Gate, Shrewsbury Prison
Near Marlborough in Wiltshire, I stayed with my friend Ashley, in her 400-year-old thatch, and we explored many canals, Georgian buildings and industrial sites. We visited the Crofton Beam Engines on open day and marvelled at Boulton’s steam machine in action. It powered water from a deep well to top up the nearby Kennett and Avon Canal. It’s the only working one of its kind left in the country. I attended my friend’s book club, and we discussed the book set, for the ‘town read’ for the up-and-coming Marlborough Literary Festival. The group was very interested to hear about my project, and I talked to them about the Society of Women Writers. On Saturday we attended Professor Kathryn Sutherland’s talk on her book, Jane Austen in 41 Objects. Later at the Green Dragon Hotel, I read two of my poems, Elegy 2022, and My Foxy Darling, for the Poetry in the Pub event, part of the Marlborough Literary Festival, and was delighted to be so well received. I was warmly welcomed and was asked to discuss my novel. It was a truly wonderful experience to sit in the old hotel and listen to other poets.
Ashley’s House
Nell, Avon & Kennett Canal
Crofton Beam Engines
Chimney Crofton Beams
Happy writing,
Nell Jones
Poetry in the Pub, Marlborough Literary Festival
Marlborough Literary Festival