Rock of Ages in Burrington Combe, Somerset

Augustus Montague Toplady (1740-78) was an Anglican clergyman of Calvinist persuasion who is best known for two things – being a vehement opponent of John Wesley, the founder of Methodism, and writing the hymn “Rock of Ages” which is sung regularly in churches and other Christian gatherings down to the present day.

The photo is of the rock that – it is widely believed - inspired him to write the hymn. It is in Burrington Combe, a steep-sided valley that offers a route from the top of the Mendip Hills down to the coastal plain on the northern side. It has been described as the “poor man’s Cheddar Gorge”, and would surely be much better known were it not that the latter is far more spectacular. 

Between 1762 and 1764 Toplady was a curate based at Blagdon in Somerset, which is not far from Burrington Combe. The story goes that he was on a walk that took him along the Combe when he was caught in a violent thunderstorm. He sought shelter in a gap in the cliff at the side of the road, which offered a measure of protection. He saw the presence of the gap at the exact time he needed it as an example of Divine providence, and it therefore became the “Rock of Ages, cleft for me” that formed the first line of his subsequent hymn.

At least, that is the legend, but not everyone accepts its historical accuracy. There is a plaque on the face of the rock that declares the story to be true, and the nearby Burrington Inn does excellent business from the many visitors who turn up with the intention of seeing the rock and inserting themselves into the cleft, but there is no real evidence that Augustus Toplady actually did what is alleged. 

© John Welford

Mound of Down, Northen Ireland

The name might give the impression that this is a pile of feathers, but it is in fact an ancient hill-fort near the town of Downpatrick in Northern Ireland. 

It is a large earthwork comprising a bank and ditch that encircle a natural drumlin, this being a smooth-sided hill – formed from glacial outflow material – that resembles half an egg in shape. The area has many drumlins in it, but the Mound rises higher than the rest – up to 12 metres above the surrounding countryside. This was once a boggy area known as the Quoile Marshes, so the Mound would have offered a perfect defensive position.

The Mound covers about three acres, which is large in terms of Iron Age sites, and there is a smaller earthwork within the main surrounding bank.

Another name for the Mound is Dundalethglas, which translates as “the English mount”. This could refer to the use of the site by Sir John de Courcy, an Anglo-Norman knight who invaded Ulster on behalf of King Henry II in the 1170s. 

However, after Sir John’s time the Mound became overgrown and disappeared from view beneath brambles, gorse and larger trees. It was therefore unknown for centuries and has only been restored to view relatively recently.

Archaeologists and historians are now thinking that the Mound of Down might have had an even more important role in the past than that accorded to it by Sir John de Courcy. It may have been a royal stronghold for the Kings of Ulster who ruled this region in the early medieval period.

© John Welford

Penrhyn Castle's temporary treasures

Wales is famous for its numerous splendid castles, many of them dating from the reign of King Edward I in the 13^th century. However, although Penrhyn Castle near Bangor in North Wales may look as if it is a remarkably well-preserved example of such a castle, it is far from it. It was built in 1827-40 by a man whose family fortune derived from slate quarrying, and it has been described as “a monstrously vulgar neo-Norman pile”.

During World War II Penrhyn Castle was given a particularly important role to play – not as part of the defence of the realm but as a storehouse for some of the most valuable paintings in London’s National Gallery. It was decided in 1940 that leaving them in London, then subject to aerial bombardment from Germany’s Luftwaffe, was too great a risk, and Penrhyn Castle looked to be a much safer place for some the world’s greatest artistic masterpieces to be stored.

It was not a case of the National Gallery moving to North Wales, because the paintings were not on display but simply stored in the castle, many of them stacked against the walls in the Great Dining Room.

This arrangement would have been fine had it not been that the then owner of the castle, the elderly 4^th Baron Penrhyn, was not the most trustworthy guardian of treasures such as “The Rokeby Venus” by Velasquez or “The Hay Wain” by John Constable. For one thing, he had a tendency to get very drunk and stumble around the paintings, thus risking the possibility that he might thrust a boot through Van Eyck’s “The Arnolfini Marriage” or some other priceless masterpiece.

He then came up with the idea of opening a girl’s boarding school at the castle, which alarmed the trustees of the National Gallery even more as they envisaged a load of unruly schoolgirls being let loose in the Great Dining Room.

Lord Penrhyn agreed to drop the plan in return for charging annual rent for the paintings of £250. 

The question of the safety of the artworks eventually reached the ears of Winston Churchill, who urged the National Gallery to find another home for them. A place that was safe both from German bombs and a highly unstable aristocrat was found in caves at Manod, near Mount Snowdon, where they saw out the rest of the War until their return to London.

When the 4^th Baron died in 1951 the castle became the property of the National Trust in lieu of death duties.

© John Welford

Whitehall Palace, London

King Henry VIII seized not only Hampton Court from Cardinal Wolsey when the latter failed to secure an annulment of Henry’s marriage to Catherine of Aragon in 1529, but also the Cardinal’s London residence which was then known as York Place, the Cardinal being Archbishop of York.

Henry developed the site with considerable rebuilding and the addition of a new embankment on the side facing the River Thames. The new name for the property was Whitehall Palace, and it became his principal London residence, just as it had been that of the unfortunate Cardinal. 

Henry also acquired fields to the west of the site and added a tiltyard, bowling alley, tennis court and cockpit. These were where St James’s Park is now.

The Palace was where he married both Anne Boleyn and Jane Seymour, and where the latter died.

The sprawl of buildings lacked a proper Banqueting Hall, and it was not until the reign of King James I that one was added. This burnt down in 1619 and a new one was built, to the design of Inigo Jones. This one survives to the present day and it is open to the public, known now as the Banqueting House. It is notable for its splendid Palladian architecture and ceiling panels painted by Peter Paul Rubens.

It was outside the Banqueting Hall that King Charles I was executed in 1649.

Later monarchs also lived at Whitehall Palace, but William III found that the bad air from the river did not help his asthma and preferred to spend more time at Kensington Palace and Hampton Court.

A fire in 1698 destroyed nearly all the Palace, but fortunately spared the Banqueting Hall. The land on which the Palace had stood became the site of the government offices for which Whitehall is best known today.

© John Welford

Maiden Castle, Dorset

Maiden Castle is a huge hill-fort two miles southwest of Dorchester, the county town of the English county of Dorset. It was the capital of the Durotriges tribe that gave its name to Dorset and was routed by the Romans in 43 AD. However, there had been activity at the site long before then.

There was a camp at the eastern end on the hill long before 2000 BC, the proof of this being a chalk image of a mother-goddess that has been discovered there.

The first Celtic inhabitants arrived at about 300 BC, digging a single rampart, fortified with timber, that enclosed about 16 acres. They lived in timber huts and stored their supplies in large circular pits. The enclosure was enlarged to the present size of 47 acres after 250 BC.

The invention of the slingshot, which could kill at a range of 100 yards, inspired the digging of fresh fortifications that formed a series of ditches and ramparts all round the site. Even today it is possible to walk round a rampart and look down into a 50-foot deep ditch. Attackers would be forced to drop down into the ditches and thus be vulnerable to arrow fire from above.

However, these defences were no good against the sophisticated ballistae of the Roman invaders, led by the future Emperor Vespasian, when he swept westwards. One grim discovery made at the site was a spinal vertebra of a defending Celt transfixed by a ballista bolt.

By 70 AD the site was deserted, with the survivors forming part of the new Roman town of Durnovaria, now known as Dorchester.

However, there was another period of occupation at Maiden Castle in around 380 AD when a Romano-British temple was built. Another grim discovery dates from around 635 AD, this being the remains of a sacrificial victim with a hole cut in his skull.

Today’s visitors can marvel at the intricate defences built by the Durotriges, especially around what would have been the gated entrances, and enjoy the superb views to be had from the summit of the hill and the surrounding ramparts.

© John Welford

Beddgelert, North Wales

This is Gelert's Grave in the village of Beddgelert in Snowdonia, North Wales - the name is Welsh for "grave of Gelert".

Gelert was a hound that belonged to Llewelyn, Prince of Wales in the 13th century. The story goes that Llewelyn was away from home when a wolf came to his house and attacked his baby son, but Gelert fought the wolf and saw it off, despite being injured.

When Llewelyn came home he could not see the child, but he did see Gelert, covered in blood. He drew the conclusion that Gelert had killed his son and immediately killed the dog. However, as soon as he had done so he heard the baby crying and discovered where Gelert had hidden him in safety from the wolf.

Llewelyn never forgave himself for his rash action, and he made sure that Gelert had a fitting memorial.

(The photo is not mine, but is taken from a copyright-free source)

© John Welford