Although I think we had the best of the summer in June, one or two days this month have provided some decent weather to take forward a project that I started a while ago but that's only just coming to completion. I wanted illustrations to accompany a collection of tales from Wales, stories based on myths, legends and historical events in the country's sometimes turbulent past; I decided to photograph as many locations as possible myself. A good excuse for some very pleasant days out too! Ten days ago we had a fascinating day in Kidwelly, exploring its castle and the surrounding area. At the foot of the drawbridge there is a memorial to Gwenllian, the warrior princess. My name is an anglicized version of hers and I've always felt an affinity with her! And below you can read a preview of her story (and that of another Welsh heroine) as it will appear in the forthcoming collection.
Why wait for the boys?
“Revenge for Gwenllian!” - for centuries the cry rang out as Welsh armies attacked English invaders. But who was Gwenllian and why did she need avenging? Like most Welsh women she was not backwards in coming forwards when there was a job to be done, never mind that the job was considered the preserve of the men – but she was to pay the same price as would a man for what she did.
Gwenllian ferch Gruffydd was the youngest of the eight children of the Prince of Gwynedd and his wife Angharad; she was born on Anglesey around 1100AD. She grew up to be a strong, determined – and very beautiful – young woman and eloped with Gruffyd ap Rhys, the Prince of Deheubarth, going on to bear him two daughters and six sons. Their home was at Dinefwr but the area was plagued by Norman invaders and the family frequently had to take to forests and mountainous strongholds for safety. From their hideouts Gwenllian (even when heavily pregnant) and Gruffyd would launch guerilla raids on the invaders, taking from them what they could and redistributing it to local families sorely in need after a series of bitter winters and poor harvests.
In 1136 England was embroiled in the political chaos that became known as “The Anarchy” with the succession being fought over by Mathilda and Stephen. With the reduced interference from over the border, there were concerted uprisings in several parts of Wales to recover lands that had been lost to the Marcher Lords. Gwenllian’s husband rode off to Gwynedd to seek support from her father and brothers to deal once and for all with their foes. Whilst her husband was away, however, news reached Gwenllian of further attacks on their land. She immediately set about raising an army herself and marched on Kidwelly, where she led her troops (which included two of her sons) into battle. Sadly they were hopelessly outnumbered and, despite valiant efforts, one of her sons was killed and she and her other son were taken prisoner. Despite the convention that a defeated ruler should be held to ransom rather than killed, both of them were executed on the battlefield. To this day the site is known as Maes Gwenllian, and the spring that rises there is said to have welled up as she was beheaded.
Gwenllian is the only known example of a medieval woman leading a Welsh army into battle. But whilst her bravery may have cost her her life, it inspired others to continue the rebellion. Gwent fighters attacked and slew the Norman lord controlling Ceredigion and when news of her death reached Gwenllian’s father and brothers in the north they marched on Llanfihangel, Aberystwyth and Llanbadarn and seized the towns. The patriotism of Gwenllian, the “Warrior Princess”, soon became, and remains, legendary.
Several centuries later a very different Welsh woman was to gain similar respect and veneration - not a noble woman this time but a cobbler’s wife from Fishguard. If you go to the town today you can visit Jemima Nicholas’s grave and see the commemorative tapestry worked to mark the two hundredth anniversary of what has become known as “the last invasion of mainland Britain", in the repulse of which Jemima played a memorable role.
In early 1797 fourteen hundred men sailed from Camaret in Revolutionary France to take part in a three pronged attack on Britain. One of the landings was to take place on the Pembrokeshire coast and the plan was that the invading force would march through South Wales to Bristol. However the 800 strong contingent landing at Llanwnda was poorly manned (consisting largely of convicts, Royalist prisoners and deserters) and poorly trained. Discipline seems to have broken down completely almost as soon as they were on the beaches and bands of French soldiers began attacking and looting local communities. Lieutenant Colonel Thomas Knox, the British officer stationed in the area, did not have adequate forces to deal with the situation however; reinforcements were mobilising under Lord Cawdor but they would take a couple of days to reach the north Pembrokeshire coast from his seat down at Stackpole in the south. Knox decided to abandon Fishguard to its fate.
In the ensuing panic in the town, Jemima Nicholas decided to take matters into her own hands. She was helped by a band of women armed with nothing more than pitchforks and local knowledge. One very useful bit of local knowledge was that a Portuguese ship had been wrecked off the coast a few weeks beforehand and the vessels' washed-up cargo of wine had found its way into most nearby homes. A woman of the world, Jemima no doubt had a good idea what state a lot of the French would be in. It must still have taken considerable courage however to leave the town, to seek out and round up a contingent of drunken invaders as she and her companions did, to march them back to Fishguard, incarcerate them in the church and guard them under lock and key until relieved of their duties by the astonished commander of the arriving reinforcements. The following day the French officer in charge of the invasion surrendered unconditionally at the Royal Oak tavern. Whilst it couldn’t be said that Jemima and her companions routed the French singlehanded, there’s no doubt that they helped to save the day.
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