tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79437242281022029272024-02-06T19:51:36.270-08:00John & Elinor Vaughan DescendantsA home for descendants of John Vaughan, christened 6 March 1789 at St. Mary's, Hay, Breconshire, and Elinor Jenkins, born 25 December 1789 at Stowe Farm, Whitney, Herefordshire.Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07133789257179902461noreply@blogger.comBlogger156125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943724228102202927.post-46822593286513333692021-11-03T07:56:00.001-07:002021-11-03T07:57:26.997-07:00Thomas Vaughan (born 1850) was Branch President in Witton Park!<p> It wasn't a large branch and it didn't last long as many members emigrated to the United States, but it's right there in ink in official records:<br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOBgq4WNDiRnyarFNby-RijplF4qcaY1mnzmxxOe5x9qjHwx1dKySgDm7JIbXovquY2UHfML5ltJQ4eXeO7-4OGP1edsAAXUWluK-fonxact1pAeljlSy2vqZku6XNXwhGFXu9HPoFdIE/s3608/Witton+Park-Thomas+Vaughan+CR_375_8_b1994_f0001_item_585-ENGLAND_Country_Part_45.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="871" data-original-width="3608" height="154" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOBgq4WNDiRnyarFNby-RijplF4qcaY1mnzmxxOe5x9qjHwx1dKySgDm7JIbXovquY2UHfML5ltJQ4eXeO7-4OGP1edsAAXUWluK-fonxact1pAeljlSy2vqZku6XNXwhGFXu9HPoFdIE/w640-h154/Witton+Park-Thomas+Vaughan+CR_375_8_b1994_f0001_item_585-ENGLAND_Country_Part_45.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">LDS CHL CR 375 8</span> </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>This is from the Confidential Minutes of the Witton Park Branch in 1884. As a service missionary in the Church History Library, I have staff access to this which is listed as "closed to research." It is possible for others to get access upon a justified request. And I saw nothing of sensitive nature in this record. Anyway, I have it. And there it is in ink!<span><a name='more'></a></span><br /><br /></div><div>The dates for Thomas's ordination as Priest is given as 6 January 1884. His ordination as Elder was on 10 April 1884. There is no date for the designation "President." It is written in a different hand or pen likely later than the other dates for ordinations and it is very similar to the "Sept 1 1884 Middlesboro" entry for Thomas Williams removing to Middlesbrough on the Yorkshire side of the River Tees across from Stockton-on-Tees, County Durham. I think that September 1, 1884 would be a reasonable, approximate date for Thomas's call as Branch President.<br /><br />We know that Thomas was active in the Stockton Branch in 1886 and that his son George Robert (my great-grandfather) was born in Witton Park on 27 April 1886 just before Thomas emigrated to the U.S. a year before the rest of his family. So, in that busy year at least, there was some going back and forth between Witton Park and Stockton twenty-one miles apart. We need to check the train routes for 1884. <br /><br />And I will be working on the <a href="https://johnelinorvaughan.blogspot.com/p/vaughan-chron-1732.html" target="_blank">Vaughan Chron</a> to get this and additional facts in to make more sense of this all, such as the record of Thomas paying tithing in Witton Park (!) There is still no narrative of our family's conversion and the connection to Grandma Elinor and her conversion in 1841 and emigration for the handcart trek of 1856. <br /><br />Still much work to be done!</div>Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07133789257179902461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943724228102202927.post-4048461025931235282021-09-26T09:24:00.006-07:002021-09-26T16:40:44.789-07:00Our Elinor and Mary Taylor Mayo<p>The evidence is pretty solid that our <a href="https://johnelinorvaughan.blogspot.com/2015/09/elinors-history.html" target="_blank">Elinor</a>* (1789-1861) was the traveling companion of <a href="http://www.keepapitchinin.org/2017/10/10/guest-post-sister-mary-mayo/#more-34365" target="_blank">Mary Taylor Mayo (1791-1856)</a> in their travels to America and on the Pioneer Trail. Mary is the one who died just short of South Pass on the Overland Trail. She died September 13, 1856, in Nebraska Territory and was buried in Oregon Territory when the Ellsworth Handcart Company stopped for the night at Pacific Springs.</p><p>There are two contemporaneous lists of the members of Ellsworth's Company that departed Iowa City on June 2, 1856. Neither one is in alphabetical order. The people are generally grouped by families. Interestingly, Elinor is not grouped with her daughter, Jane Vaughan Lewis (1827-1890) and her family. They travelled from Britain to the United States in different ships within weeks of each other. However, Elinor and Mary Mayo are listed together on both lists.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh15N1eBP4kGfK74ca8RWTpGJFqUqZHO4yOFFCGaVsmBOTssjAxHBC7Gp8zKAej4HQyEbNuRw71oDSnsWXxLZKXW5XHtmJaaNge_Ojp-MrQjsBlTx8ia1t64LbmJh3SWmoaKuN6mvMiSE8/s955/CHL+MS+1964+Ellsworth+Folder+1+Journal+list%252C+Image+11%252C++p.+6+Eleanor+Vaughan%252C+Mary+Mayo.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="656" data-original-width="955" height="440" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh15N1eBP4kGfK74ca8RWTpGJFqUqZHO4yOFFCGaVsmBOTssjAxHBC7Gp8zKAej4HQyEbNuRw71oDSnsWXxLZKXW5XHtmJaaNge_Ojp-MrQjsBlTx8ia1t64LbmJh3SWmoaKuN6mvMiSE8/w640-h440/CHL+MS+1964+Ellsworth+Folder+1+Journal+list%252C+Image+11%252C++p.+6+Eleanor+Vaughan%252C+Mary+Mayo.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CHL MS 1964 Ellsworth Folder 1, Journal list, Image 11, p. 6, Eleanor Vaughan, Mary Mayo.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip9Xa-KFipAe1xAGBu0TrBg8c8MLZeCFfHUkI044qVbBUYWrSaHc6Wy8xZlSJ0XprWq0RcEnFwnGnCRmo0ERYolHcLkSdm2lY5EnukGjkLKY76CCk1bnd4hsFRChFdHSwopq6aXaSCITs/s632/CHL+MS+1964+Ellsworth+Folder+2%252C+Image+6%252C+Co.+List+Eleanor+Vaughan+No.+35.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="632" data-original-width="424" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip9Xa-KFipAe1xAGBu0TrBg8c8MLZeCFfHUkI044qVbBUYWrSaHc6Wy8xZlSJ0XprWq0RcEnFwnGnCRmo0ERYolHcLkSdm2lY5EnukGjkLKY76CCk1bnd4hsFRChFdHSwopq6aXaSCITs/w430-h640/CHL+MS+1964+Ellsworth+Folder+2%252C+Image+6%252C+Co.+List+Eleanor+Vaughan+No.+35.jpg" width="430" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CHL MS 1964 Ellsworth Folder 2, Image 6, Co. List, Eleanor Vaughan No. 35.</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL_A-HyiKwOFKJmQD_-5aXZXFppHvkrAQdrIhXh3w4L_TSd3rzjsZXO1BmEaqXTkvvd6tPKmf_TDMyKtM6eqMXzAbyuC_hr-2wmyaHVW7KBD83V0qriiuepK6NZeST8hY1XWvhty2MN8A/s663/CHL+MS+1964+Ellsworth+Folder+2%252C+Image+7%252C+Co.+List%252C+Mary+Mayo+No.+36.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="663" data-original-width="434" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL_A-HyiKwOFKJmQD_-5aXZXFppHvkrAQdrIhXh3w4L_TSd3rzjsZXO1BmEaqXTkvvd6tPKmf_TDMyKtM6eqMXzAbyuC_hr-2wmyaHVW7KBD83V0qriiuepK6NZeST8hY1XWvhty2MN8A/w418-h640/CHL+MS+1964+Ellsworth+Folder+2%252C+Image+7%252C+Co.+List%252C+Mary+Mayo+No.+36.jpg" width="418" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CHL MS 1964 Ellsworth Folder 2, Image 7, Co. List, Mary Mayo No. 36.</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The first thing to notice is that Elinor's age is given as 68 on these lists. This is much more accurate than most other records of the time. She is listed on the <i>Enoch Train</i> ship manifest as 78, and as various other ages in the records. <br /><br />As a service missionary in the LDS Church History Library (CHL), I have had the opportunity to discuss Elinor and Mary Mayo with the professional historian who is in charge of the Pioneer Database. In a recent conversation, she confirmed that seeing Elinor and Mary together on these lists was a good indication that they had been assigned as traveling companions, most likely when they both boarded the <i>Enoch Train, </i>as neither of then had any family to be with them on that stage of the journey. Their natural inclinations as elderly widows would be to look out after each other and that would have suited the Mormon Elders in charge of the passengers.<div><br /></div><div>This likely continued on the trail. While "family" may be an important unit and would have usually slept together in the same tent, the handcart companies were often divided based on needs of the group as a whole. The youngest children able to walk were led out together in the morning before the families packed up. Mothers would be expected to carry infants. Young men were often assigned as teamsters, to drive stock, to assist the elderly and infirm, or other duties. Generally, each handcart was for five individual and each canvas tent slept twenty. In the second list above, the company appears to be counted by tens and twenties that may have reflected the "<a href="https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/scriptures/dc-testament/dc/136.3?lang=eng&clang=eng#p3" target="_blank">captaincies</a>" and the tent assignments.</div><div><br /></div><div>Another matter that I have yet failed to discuss with professional historians is that Mary Ann Jones (1836-1925) who later married Edmund Ellsworth, told of two elderly women who were not happy with the weight limit for their personal goods on the handcarts. One, who has been identified as Mary Mayo, carried a hatbox in her hands. The other, whom we believe to be our Elinor, had a <a href="https://johnelinorvaughan.blogspot.com/2014/03/claiming-legendary-teapot-and-colander_29.html" target="_blank">teapot and colander</a> tied to her apron strings. It makes perfect sense that these two traveling companions would have devised similar strategies. No one apparently challenged the two determined matriarchs.</div><div><br /></div><div>The Enoch Train left England on March 23. Mary Mayo died September 13. That is six months that these two women likely spent in each others company day and night, in sickness and travail. When Mary died of dysentery, Elinor was most likely with her. The sick wagon, driven as a sweep behind the company to pick up any dead or ill of the company left aside the trail, would have come upon Mary and perhaps Elinor as well. Elinor would have walked with the body as they carried it to the grave on the side of Pacific Butte. She may have carried Mary's hatbox and placed it with her.</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIHa0SGiLYSSvMh9g63UDXuib7CN-LFNluCHgXhRmP5m1ECx15XmlBrud9IHx8Lp8Y5LV3h3BsmKdaGnHp3hxHvBGMKKd_hHWJpBA6CHvSJ0cii4h_uhbSkEwD2kPVZbYLyItkpYrNNEM/s1600/Twin+Mounds+on+Overland+Trail+just+east+of+South+Pass.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIHa0SGiLYSSvMh9g63UDXuib7CN-LFNluCHgXhRmP5m1ECx15XmlBrud9IHx8Lp8Y5LV3h3BsmKdaGnHp3hxHvBGMKKd_hHWJpBA6CHvSJ0cii4h_uhbSkEwD2kPVZbYLyItkpYrNNEM/w640-h480/Twin+Mounds+on+Overland+Trail+just+east+of+South+Pass.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Twin Mounds on Overland Trail just east of South Pass.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5sOf486Jqx4uTTZYrumvzgffUkfiCTM7Yp-_A4YiyLioIgmuDRe6kAavn72yFomkSEPcOFXa9uenytOIpM-ZdoD3ItW9nP7g0gMcSAs_AD7230pmP4ZjIV6Du1bGZnCot5tCQ94nY7QI/s1920/pPacific+Butte+from+Trail+Marker+at+Pacific+Springs+-+Burial+Place+of+Mary+Mayo.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="928" data-original-width="1920" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5sOf486Jqx4uTTZYrumvzgffUkfiCTM7Yp-_A4YiyLioIgmuDRe6kAavn72yFomkSEPcOFXa9uenytOIpM-ZdoD3ItW9nP7g0gMcSAs_AD7230pmP4ZjIV6Du1bGZnCot5tCQ94nY7QI/w640-h310/pPacific+Butte+from+Trail+Marker+at+Pacific+Springs+-+Burial+Place+of+Mary+Mayo.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pacific Butte from Trail Marker at Pacific Springs - Burial Place of Mary Mayo</td></tr></tbody></table><br />__________________________<div>*In most records, she is identified as "Eleanor." Her name at Christening in Whitney, Herefordshire, used the Welsh spelling of "Elinor."<br /><span><a name='more'></a></span></div><span><!--more--></span><span><!--more--></span><span><!--more--></span>Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07133789257179902461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943724228102202927.post-19825831818151799812020-07-16T16:09:00.000-07:002020-07-16T16:24:34.309-07:00Abednego Jones (John)It's been a while. But I finally found something new.<br />
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I've been doing my part-time, senior-service missionary work for the Church History Library on the Welsh Missionaries in the Early Missionary Database. Levi Richards, brother of Willard Richards and personal physician to Joseph Smith, Jr., was back in Wales in 1852 as a Special Missionary to advise the Welsh Mission and to establish the boundary with the Herefordshire Conference. On 21 February, in Llanelli, near Swansea, he notes in his journal, "....had an interview with Prest Abednego Jones (John) stopped over night." Parentheses in the original! Here's the pic:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhre5jZ2P0vS-6mosSjagv34kFYZ4bnZElxIyILNm5MRuZZ5vOnlHsdma7RppfhaFd5D1l5lE7IVXc4LIE884zcu-vjHJjRHSsUzjVMqNdgtc8c4qd7lqGjMP2opEa0fE0_yFbtz-tdo0Q/s1600/1852-02-21+LRJ+Abednego+Jones+John.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="160" data-original-width="507" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhre5jZ2P0vS-6mosSjagv34kFYZ4bnZElxIyILNm5MRuZZ5vOnlHsdma7RppfhaFd5D1l5lE7IVXc4LIE884zcu-vjHJjRHSsUzjVMqNdgtc8c4qd7lqGjMP2opEa0fE0_yFbtz-tdo0Q/s1600/1852-02-21+LRJ+Abednego+Jones+John.jpg" /></a></div>
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The <a href="http://welshmormon.byu.edu/Resources/pdf/23847.pdf">9 August 1851 editon of Zion's Trumpet</a> reports that Abednego Jones was appointed to preside over the Carmarthenshire Conference. On <a href="http://welshmormon.byu.edu/Resources/pdf/23848.pdf">27 May 1852</a>, the Carmarthenshire Conference was split created the Llanelli Conference on the south side of the Towy River in Carmarthenshire. Abednego Jones was to be President of this conference. On <a href="http://welshmormon.byu.edu/Resources/pdf/23851.pdf">3 January 1853</a>, Abednego was released as President of the Conference presumably to travel to Utah as he and his family did on <a href="https://saintsbysea.lib.byu.edu/mii/passenger/36262">5 February 1853.</a> The first two Children of Abednego and Mary Jones in the ship's manifest match up with the children in the <a href="https://www.familysearch.org/ark:/61903/1:1:SGBP-213?from=lynx1UIV8&treeref=LHGT-WVY">1851 Census for Abednego and Mary</a> then living in Llanelly, Breconshire (not be be confused with Llanelli, Carmarthenshire as was often the case). Llanelly, Breconshire was near the town of Brynmawr in the neighborhood of Merthyr Tydfil (two valleys over).<br />
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The importance of this reference in the journal of Levi Richards is that Abednego's last name already had an alternate spelling! It wasn't just an action Abednego took when he arrived in the U.S or left the Salt Lake Valley for the Carson. It is one more piece of evidence to solidly tie Elinor's presence in Jacks Valley above the Carson before her death.Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07133789257179902461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943724228102202927.post-34972587271708417832019-09-02T09:25:00.000-07:002019-09-02T09:26:42.605-07:00A Challenge to our Circumstantial Case for Rees Price as Father of John Vaughan (1789)We have been researching to break through the brick wall of a 1789 illegitimate birth in Hay, Breconshire. That is our direct surname origin (although the numerous Vaughans in the Middle Wye and Usk Valleys all claim descent from Sir Roger Vaughan of Bredwardine, legitimately or not - and we connect with a few other of those lines).<br />
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This weekend, I had some correspondence on Ancestry.com with another user who took some umbrage with us naming her direct ancestor as the putative father of John Vaughan (1789-1851). She gave me permission to share it with her Ancestry user name. Here is the correspondence:<br />
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<a class="userCardName " data-ng-click="navProfile($event, message.authorUserId)" href="https://www.blogger.com/null" style="box-sizing: inherit; color: #005c7d; cursor: pointer; font-weight: 900;">EJSummerson</a></div>
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<small class="ng-binding" style="box-sizing: inherit; color: #bebbb3; display: inline-block; font-size: inherit; line-height: 1.35; margin-right: 12px;">Aug 31, 2019</small></div>
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Hello<br />
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I am a direct descendant of Rees PRICE the tailor of Velindre, and must protest against this continued assumption that was the father of your illegitmate Vaughan offspring. I think you have only circumstantial information based on the name Price and I dispute this. I have seen the case you make on Family Search and you do recognise that you make assumptions. If you can prove your descent from Rees PRICE using DNA (as I have myself), I should of course drop this challenge. But there were other PRICES, other Rees PRICES, other PRICES who were tailors etc etc.<br />
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'My' Rees PRICE (5th great-grandfather was, by the way, literate and therefore likely to be consistent in the way he spelt Rees.<br />
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Also I believe you are wrong in saying, in a blog about a visit to the area, that the PRICE family kept The Three Horseshoes from the late 18th century - it was my great-grandfather George PRICE b 1862 who took on the pub sometime between his marriage to Elizabeth Jones of Velindre and the 1891 census. Certainly my own grandfather was born there in 1889. George PRICE kept The Three Horseshoes until sometime after 1939, when it is still his address in the National Registration of that September. Afterwards it passed to descendants, with a granddaughter Nancy taking it on.<br />
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I have corresponded with you previously on this matter. I note that Ancestry says you have either not taken a DNA test or or not a match with me. It would be very interesting to know if you have taken a test.</div>
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<a class="userCardName " data-ng-click="navProfile($event, message.authorUserId)" href="https://www.blogger.com/null" style="box-sizing: inherit; color: #005c7d; cursor: pointer; font-weight: 900;">glvaughn1732</a></div>
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<small class="ng-binding" style="box-sizing: inherit; color: #bebbb3; display: inline-block; font-size: inherit; line-height: 1.35; margin-right: 12px;">Aug 31, 2019</small></div>
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Dear Liz-<br />
Thank you for your message. You raise valid concerns. Thank for additional information. And you are correct that we only have a circumstantial case. I have removed the relationship on my GLVaughn tree.<br />
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The main link to a Rees Price of Glasbury Parish is that he had an assessment debt owed to the Parish Vestry Council at the same time of John Vaughan's illegitimate birth. That could have been grounds for being in the gaol in Hay which local historians inform me was the only gaol location in the area, far from the County gaol in Brecon (or Radnor, depending on the County with the Wye in the middle of the Parish). As Rees Price, Tailor of Felindre, was already married, he could not have married the mother of an illegitimate child and would have been fined for maintenance of the child if the parentage was known to the vestrymen.<br />
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Here is what I found in the Vestry Minutes:<br />
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1789 [from Glasbury Parish Records] "Return Rees Price eight assessments [This is abbreviated and should read Return Rees Price in arrears for eight assessments]" It does not say what the assessments are for. And, in 1790, "In return Rece Price in arrears 3s 6d." Failure to pay maintenance for an illegitimate child would be one reason for such assessments. But it could have been something else too.<br />
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I have taken and Ancestry.com DNA test and you are correct that we do not appear as a match. I do have matches with people named Price but I have not analyzed them all and I have not confirmed any Price link in Glasbury through DNA.<br />
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I have also taken a Y-DNA test and while the evidence is pretty shaky from very few samplings of other tests, I do see a possible Y-DNA link to Davies in the area of Glasbury. There are Davieses and Davises who were tailors. This has given me a new field to research and my research continues.<br />
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With your permission, and with your name redacted, I would like to post your comment on my family history blog to make it available to others in the family. I am unlikely to remove past postings as they show the development of research (and I have always said the case for Rees Price is circumstantial). I have posted about the possible Davis/Davies DNA link.<br />
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<a href="https://johnelinorvaughan.blogspot.com/2018/01/y-dna-is-in.html#more">https://johnelinorvaughan.blogspot.com/2018/01/y-dna-is-in.html#more</a><br />
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I have recently retired and hope to spend more time of family history research. Maybe I can get this mystery cleared up.<br />
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Thank you again for your message and your attention.<br />
Sincerely,<br />
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Grant Vaughn</div>
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<small class="ng-binding" style="box-sizing: inherit; color: #bebbb3; display: inline-block; font-size: inherit; line-height: 1.35; margin-right: 12px;">Sep 01, 2019</small></div>
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Dear Grant<br />
Thank you very much for your prompt and full reply, and most of all for your decision to remove 'my' Rees PRICE from your tree. I appreciate that you put a huge amount of work into building up your circumstantial case and fully see why you were feeling convinced. So many individuals of same and similar names were around - for instance, there was another Rees PRICE who died in Glasbury aged 93 in 1827.<br />
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You can by all means post my comment . I'd be very pleased for you to do that. And you can use my Ancestry name if you wish - I don't mind receiving comments.<br />
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I have a DNA connection with another Ancestry member who is a descedant of this Rees PRICE. In fact, it was that which proved my connection, built on strong circumstantial evidence! We are descended respectively from a son and a daughter of Rees and Anne.<br />
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I hope you manage to solve your mystery parentage case through DNA - it seems to have broken down many people's brick walls. Unfortunately, such a lot of fellow Ancestry members don't reply to messages! So again, I am hugely appreciative of you doing so.<br />
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We also think The Three Horseshoes is a great little pub!!<br />
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Best regards</div>
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It is best not to argue about Genealogy, especially in instances where claims can't be proven with solid evidence. Besides, I need all the friends I can get in Britain.</div>
Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07133789257179902461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943724228102202927.post-21570805084932232532019-01-20T21:14:00.000-08:002019-01-20T21:45:00.376-08:00Abednego RisingMy order of the great historical losses in the word:<br />
1) the Library of Alexandria;<br />
2) the Library at Raglan Castle, Wales;<br />
3) the 1890 US Census, and;<br />
4) the 1831 Merthyr Tydfil Petition of 11,000 signatures to save the life of Dic Penderyn.<br />
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Some of those 11,000 on the petition to Lord Melbourne may have joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in the 1840s. We think we know one of them.<br />
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There's some irony that during the longest federal shutdown, being locked out of work, I've read <i>The Merthyr Rising</i>, by Gwyn A. Williams (University of Wales, Cardiff 1978). The Rising came about because of the Ironmasters conspiring to lower wages and shut-down work making it very difficult for the families of working poor in the ironworks, the coal, ironstone, and limestone mines, and processing mills to feed their families.<br />
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"Bara gyda caws!" was the shout of the crowd for "bread and cheese" in front of the Castle Inn when the 93rd Highland Regiment fired on the crowd killing two dozen and wounding dozens more. It only gave the leaders of the town and small contingent of soldiers an opportunity to escape to Penydarren House, which was more easily defended.<br />
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The workers held the town for a few days in June 1831. They even held off the Highlanders' relief troops from Brecon at the steep slopes of Cefn Coed just north of Merthyr Tydfil. However, within a few days, the gentry militias and soldiers of the King converged on the town and the workers went back to the mines and furnaces. The British Parliament and the ironmasters were smart enough to establish some reform.<br />
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We found a newspaper article from 1833 that Elinor Jenkins Vaughan's son-in-law, Abednego Jones (1811-1890), appears to have participated in the Rising. The book confirmed my source. Here's how Professor Williams lays it out in his Preface about the stories he heard growing up in Merthyr:<br />
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It was astounding to me, or to be more accurate, it became astounding tome in retrospect, how often the talk curled back to 1831. One story lodged in my mind like a limpet intruder. They would shriek with laughter as they told of a young boy, Abednego Jones, who went about Merthyr during the Rising carrying a huge white banner as big as himself (by the end of the evening, it would be twice as big) and piping in a shrill, choir-boy treble: 'Death to kings and tyrants! The reign of justice for ever!'<br />
I did in the end find one 'huge white banner': it was carried by workers on the march to the Waun Fair which started the rebellion. The young boy I never found. But once, quite by accident, I came across a court case in the <i>Merthyr Guardian</i> for 1833. A miner sued two others for cheating him out of his stall, won, and was then exposed as a man who had 'carried a banner during the Merthyr Riots'. This phrase recurs constantly in obituary and other notices; it evidently marked a man out. The judge read the offender an appropriate sermon. His name was Abednego Jones. [footnote to the same article that I found.] In 1833, he was no boy. Perhaps he was short. <i>The Merthyr Rising</i>, at 14.</blockquote>
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So, there it is. It is of importance to note that it was a white flag and not the red flag dipped in calf's blood at Waun Fair that was ultimately heralded by the Socialist movement as the first of their red flags. Although, it <i>could have been </i>a white flag on the way up to Waun Fair that was <i>then dipped in blood</i>.<br />
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The faces of authority at the windows of the Castle Inn were ... anxious as they watched, on 30 May, while hundreds of men, behind a great white banner inscribed <i>Reform</i>, marched through Merthyr and headed out to the Waun. <i>Id.</i> at 101.</blockquote>
It was for Reform, not Socialism which had hardly been invented by 1831. And reforms did come. But not until after the red flag at Merthyr; and not until after Richard Lewis, AKA Dic Penderyn died a martyr's death on the gallows in Cardiff for the crime of stabbing a British Soldier. The evidence was questionable at trial. The petitions post-trial to spare his life failed. Historians today generally believe that he was Lord Melbourne's scape-goat for the Rising. A sacrificial lamb.<br />
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"O Arglwyd, dyma gamwedd!"<br />
["O Lord, here is injustice!" - Dic Penderyn's last words.]</blockquote>
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And what of Uncle Abednego?<br />
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He was 19, not a child, at the time of the Merthyr Rising. But 19 is still young and perhaps he was short as Prof. Williams speculates. Legends exaggerate in the retelling. But there is nearly contemporaneous documentation of Abednego carrying a flag. Prof. Williams and I found the same source.<br />
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There is no other match for Abednego Jones that I can find in the genealogical records. Jones is the most common surname in Wales, but Abednego is rare, even for biblical Wales. I just wish we had the 11,000 names of the petition to spare Dic Penderyn.Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07133789257179902461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943724228102202927.post-60262461222047298462018-12-29T17:27:00.001-08:002018-12-30T05:55:00.940-08:00Grandma Elinor's Departure from Waterloo Dock on the Enoch Train, 1856The bad news is that the Waterloo Dock in Liverpool was significantly modified in 1868 and is now blocked off by apartments and offices. But we know where it was at the lower end of Waterloo Road just north of Prince's Dock.<br />
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The good news is that I found an 1850 article from the <i>Illustrated London News </i>about emigration from Waterloo Docks. Grandma Elinor embarked on the <i>Enoch Train</i> from Waterloo Dock in 1856 for Zion. It couldn't have changed that much in six years.<br />
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The article is mostly about Irish emigration because of the potato famines and general conditions of abject poverty. There are important confirmations in the article that ships sailing to and from the United States used Waterloo Docks and that steerage passengers were boarded 24 hours ahead of sailing to be organized below decks and likely to clear space before the saloon (first-class) passengers boarded.<br />
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The Mormon emigrant companies were known for their organization and orderliness, although it may not have been much different than the scene above.<br />
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In the excitement of waiting to depart, the emigrants below decks would play music, sing, and dance. We have reports that Mormon emigrants enjoyed such practices.<br />
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Otherwise, things were pretty dismal in steerage. It only got worse after sailing with the rocking and groaning of the ship on the waves of the great deep. Dancing was probably less likely then.<br />
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A scene reflecting on Mormon organization was required of all emigrant ships before departure, the roll-call. The Captain and Ship's Doctor had to check numbers and the health of passengers for which they were responsible. Disabled individuals were fined in New York and the ill were returned at the expense of the Captain.<br />
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It is astounding to consider that these small ships carried hundreds of passengers.<br />
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And a scene that would be valid for any sailing was the departure. Family members, and in the case of Mormon companies, missionaries and church leaders, would be on the docks to bid farewell. The feelings of the passengers who were likely to never see their native land again can only be imagined.<br />
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And that's the way it was, Waterloo Docks, 1850s.Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07133789257179902461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943724228102202927.post-28743736731137970722018-12-09T21:46:00.000-08:002018-12-09T21:57:34.475-08:00Christmas Eve Services, Llanfoist, 1841It isn't much, but another missionary journal from Elinor's era in Llanfoist tells us:<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif; line-height: 17.12px;"><span style="font-size: large;">“My next appointment was at Llanfoist where I found a steady and attentive congregation. This is a dark and sootey place owing to the vast amount of coal and iron works here.” </span></span></blockquote>
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<i>James Palmer Reminiscences, circa 1884-1898 </i>LDS CHL MS 1752_f0001_00071. </div>
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This source must be based on a contemporaneous journal as there are dates that would not be remembered unless recorded somehow. James Palmer occasionally traveled with Elder John Needham who baptized Elinor Jenkins Vaughan on 17 December 1841, just one week before the Christmas Eve meeting in Llanfoist. Elder Palmer also visited the Branch at Llanthony in the Black Mountains and was the first missionary to preach in Abersychan in June 1841, apparently without much success.</div>
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Elder Palmer is credited with the first recorded baptism in South Wales. His Reminiscences records that on either the 23rd or 30th of November, 1840, he baptized John Preece and William Williams in the River Monnow at Skenfrith, Monmouthshire. It just so happens that I took pics there on my visit last Good Friday, not knowing about this history (even though it's recorded in <i>Truth Will Prevail: the Rise of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in the British Isles 1837-1987</i> (University Press, Cambridge, UK 1987), p. 240, as well as the <i>Reminiscences</i> at p. 13.)</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">The River Monnow at Skenfrith, Monmouthshire, Wales. First baptisms in South Wales near here.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hey, Skenfrith has a castle! I had to go there. The very small village is to the right, the Monnow is to the left.</td></tr>
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Llanfoist seems like a pleasant and green place now, but it was just downhill from the ironworks at Garnddyrrus. There were also extensive, coal-fired limestone kilns in Llanfoist in those days. They were probably working on Christmas Eve.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja-IlT86cPP9e23fjl-LeihyphenhypheniJH5nqclsw4_SxLqpZzm9xFf2hPduWE6UBKSojS-jMMJua_NMHL869RGtOzfm9bg_xvXgIYgrXtdrbZjO60MgDh53QS1SXe1UyA0pDHR4OhRb6vWhvtVw/s1600/IMG_6447.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1188" data-original-width="1600" height="474" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja-IlT86cPP9e23fjl-LeihyphenhypheniJH5nqclsw4_SxLqpZzm9xFf2hPduWE6UBKSojS-jMMJua_NMHL869RGtOzfm9bg_xvXgIYgrXtdrbZjO60MgDh53QS1SXe1UyA0pDHR4OhRb6vWhvtVw/s640/IMG_6447.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You can see the limestone kilns in this marker. The Vaughan home was just above No. 13. <br />I haven't yet determined where the Davies home was where services were for members of the restored Church of Jesus Christ.</td></tr>
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<br />Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07133789257179902461noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943724228102202927.post-78475409979489954492018-10-17T05:37:00.001-07:002018-10-17T05:37:55.466-07:00The SS Nevada of the Guion Line, Liverpool to New York, 1886 and 1887<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLk9FBOgMJt6sdn7WQLwSHdTCML4u5CaEDrQ1dfSisY5ugGiqqPYIimTXx5fcjSRryClYV9zUGLNEjNScYvdSShtGH_XHgU_N7riCpsEviAPHxtJMGvL7ApwpxMKYVBNAuSMLXfUdb78s/s1600/oil+painting+of+the+Nevada+1868+DOUGLAS%252C+JAMES%252C+ARTIST.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="685" data-original-width="1106" height="396" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLk9FBOgMJt6sdn7WQLwSHdTCML4u5CaEDrQ1dfSisY5ugGiqqPYIimTXx5fcjSRryClYV9zUGLNEjNScYvdSShtGH_XHgU_N7riCpsEviAPHxtJMGvL7ApwpxMKYVBNAuSMLXfUdb78s/s640/oil+painting+of+the+Nevada+1868+DOUGLAS%252C+JAMES%252C+ARTIST.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The SS Nevada of the Guion Line or the Liverpool and Great Western Steamship Co.<br />Oil painting presumed to be by James Douglas, in the Mariners' Museum, Newport News, Virginia</td></tr>
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<br />Sometimes, playing around on Google pays off. I found this image of an oil painting from the <a href="https://www.marinersmuseum.org/">Mariners' Museum</a> in Newport News, VA. It is the ship that brought my Great Grandfather George Robert Vaughan and his family to America in 1887. His father, Thomas, arrived a year earlier on the same ship.<br />
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The color and detail are so helpful. Note the two rows of portholes along the line of the hull just above the water line. One of those might have been opened during calm seas to get some fresh air to my infant Great Grandfather. The black smokestacks with the red stripe were distinctive of the Guion Line.<br /><br />The ship had only one propeller which necessitated the sails in case the engine failed. Steamships were soon outfitted with two engines and screws for additional speed and if one system failed, there was another for backup rather than having to rely on the sails. This artistic representation is a bit fanciful as the sails were rarely used especially if the ship was at full steam as appears here.<br /><br />The <i class="">Nevada</i> was built at Palmer's Shipbuilding & Iron Co., Jarrow-on-Tyne outside of Newcastle, England in 1868. That was the same year that Mormon emigrants began using steamships rather than the slower, less-expensive and soon outdated sailing ships. Steamships were coming into their own just as the transcontinental railroad was close to completion across the United States. Steamships and railroads greatly facilitated and expedited the journey from England to Utah. The Guion line became the preferred company for organized Mormon emigrant passage because of the favorable treatment and reduced fairs arranged between the Guion agents in Liverpool and the Church leaders of the British Mission. The Mormons were organized and orderly passengers generally respected by the captains.<br />
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There are other great details in this painting. In spite of its base in Liverpool, the Guion line was an American Company. That might account for the names of US states on the bows of its ships. The ship flies the US flag high and a British maritime flag is at the stern out of respect for operating in British waters. On the highest mast flies a unique flag. It's the steamship company's design of a black, six-pointed star in a white diamond on a blue field. It was a flag my ancestors had the blessing to see fluttering above the North Atlantic on the passage to America.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAU1cT-MaccqeJ6qNEIrOgmTcXUP81_QnSKJyz9Jeszbcfe8tZDCTBtFITStcLu7W0mq00d-wkt2c22gcChPcrW22xm-h-6r4zwSUK0XKLg2G-5sGvFEf1t_OnhXHYjLCxEcuD28VlFNQ/s1600/Guion_Line+flag.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="291" data-original-width="463" height="402" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAU1cT-MaccqeJ6qNEIrOgmTcXUP81_QnSKJyz9Jeszbcfe8tZDCTBtFITStcLu7W0mq00d-wkt2c22gcChPcrW22xm-h-6r4zwSUK0XKLg2G-5sGvFEf1t_OnhXHYjLCxEcuD28VlFNQ/s640/Guion_Line+flag.gif" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The distinctive flag of the Liverpool and Great Western Steamship Co. or the Guion Line.</td></tr>
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Sources: </div>
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Sonne, Conway B., <i>Saints on the Seas; A Maritime History of Mormon Migration</i> (University of Utah Press, Salt Lake City, 1983)<br />The Mariners' Museum and Park, Newport News, Virginia, webpage:</div>
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<a href="https://www.marinersmuseum.org/"> https://www.marinersmuseum.org/</a></div>
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Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07133789257179902461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943724228102202927.post-89432954452834194702018-09-28T05:56:00.002-07:002018-09-28T05:57:21.041-07:00Old Postcard of Alexandra Dock<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZzg-QBhn_iMya4JijGk03SITZYwGP98uLshhBEUq3r9xIJzVLKa_77iyTezYAlyaXiW6X2sz8-4adpLEVax0Nf3oexBJHmUhoQ1GEidI6XaYBcJimP0nLmrB0pu3tqt0_xSO0_7ITItc/s1600/Alexandra+Dock.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1005" data-original-width="1600" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZzg-QBhn_iMya4JijGk03SITZYwGP98uLshhBEUq3r9xIJzVLKa_77iyTezYAlyaXiW6X2sz8-4adpLEVax0Nf3oexBJHmUhoQ1GEidI6XaYBcJimP0nLmrB0pu3tqt0_xSO0_7ITItc/s640/Alexandra+Dock.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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This undated postcard photo of the Alexandra Dock, Liverpool, is probably from the early 20th Century. The ships look like freighters with their derrick booms for loading cargo and no masts. The buildings around the docks appear to be old enough to have been there in the 1880s. Alexandra Dock was built in 1881.</div>
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Thomas Vaughan embarked from Alexandra Dock No. 3 in 1886. Isabella and the children embarked in 1887. Their dock is not mentioned, but the first-class passengers embarked from Prince's Landing Stage on transports to the <i class="gr-progress">Nevada</i>, anchored in the Mersey River. Prince's Landing was just north of the Liver Building on the waterfront. I am still trying to determine if steerage passengers would have gone aboard earlier at the docks along with the cargo or if they were allowed to come on the small transport boats to the ship docked in the river. It is most likely that they were still loaded earlier at the dock as was the typical pattern for steerage.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaDVKxQqETQVZPvQWxXR1-XSFuWynpJmb7JvEyGgKyrJUQM0vpNLSTYb5KAtt2Xxt6uByc2hY9b3REheCu0YJBUVio1flmaGHIElYQYr4a7eRk0qGwvBVDypx12SxPrPdAvuWzPql1hw8/s1600/NevadaSSM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="686" data-original-width="1600" height="274" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaDVKxQqETQVZPvQWxXR1-XSFuWynpJmb7JvEyGgKyrJUQM0vpNLSTYb5KAtt2Xxt6uByc2hY9b3REheCu0YJBUVio1flmaGHIElYQYr4a7eRk0qGwvBVDypx12SxPrPdAvuWzPql1hw8/s640/NevadaSSM.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The <i>SS Nevada</i> of the Guion Line</td></tr>
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Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07133789257179902461noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943724228102202927.post-10780419873291851152018-09-21T05:20:00.000-07:002018-09-21T07:43:17.384-07:00Meet me at Alexandra Dock No. 3 on Saturday!This just might work. If only it were Saturday, May 22, 1886, in Liverpool!<br />
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Ever the one to want to stand in exactly the same place where my ancestors have stood and to lead others to their ancestral spots, I had to know where the actual dock was where my<a href="https://johnelinorvaughan.blogspot.com/2017/02/yearning-to-breathe-free.html"> Great-Great-Grandfather boarded the </a><i><a href="https://johnelinorvaughan.blogspot.com/2017/02/yearning-to-breathe-free.html">S.S. Nevada</a> </i>to come to America.<br />
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The <a href="https://mormonmigration.lib.byu.edu/">Mormon Migration database</a> is a great resource to find immigrant ancestors who came from Europe from the 1840s through the early 1900s. The Mormon immigrants were well organized by the British Mission with transport arranged at the lowest fares. The ships are documented with passenger lists and departure dates from Liverpool, England which saw no less than 1,695 Mormon emigrant ship sailings!<br />
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On my recent trip with <a href="http://www.mormonheritage.com/scotland-and-wales-lds-church-history-tours/">Mormon Heritage Association,</a> I found the Liverpool docks fascinating. Liverpool is on the Mersey Estuary with tides from the Irish Sea. The docks are not what I was used to in US harbors with piers sticking out into Elliott Bay (Seattle), San Francisco Bay, or the New York Harbor. Liverpool docks are more like rectangular pools of water separated from the Mersey by locks and short canals. As a tidal river, the Mersey mud is exposed at low tide. At high tide, the locks can be open and the ships enter and depart through the canals in or out of the various rectangular docks. "Sailing with the tide" now makes a lot more sense.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqHgxTeUH-gxhhVyABgiL-CySRYyWTQbmQBefhMzQtuTuhQNqoB6M6kJctuNnN4GYGt9OYqszUrnr55xy5lTjgVlrwzmiPEDjIOnUMRowmZV9pnTxgqWQzrqMspV6nZxRVmcIYzKlS2zA/s1600/IMG_0141.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqHgxTeUH-gxhhVyABgiL-CySRYyWTQbmQBefhMzQtuTuhQNqoB6M6kJctuNnN4GYGt9OYqszUrnr55xy5lTjgVlrwzmiPEDjIOnUMRowmZV9pnTxgqWQzrqMspV6nZxRVmcIYzKlS2zA/s640/IMG_0141.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Canning Dock in the very nice public space of the Liverpool Waterfront.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdKFfJUvoJi59RLyDsaob7JUzZiPpyyvTpRUo3vmadLsfDHp2k869CYjx9IfEap3NR7Q_BZp7GSj9nasd0Q41dE_-V3MKROC9ohN64Ywapbj3GeCwBBzbLE_ebmmpnl1a__sq1IsjkIkE/s1600/IMG_0198.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdKFfJUvoJi59RLyDsaob7JUzZiPpyyvTpRUo3vmadLsfDHp2k869CYjx9IfEap3NR7Q_BZp7GSj9nasd0Q41dE_-V3MKROC9ohN64Ywapbj3GeCwBBzbLE_ebmmpnl1a__sq1IsjkIkE/s640/IMG_0198.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Mersey at low tide with mud exposed outside the docks.</td></tr>
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<a name='more'></a>The docks have been well-mapped through history and I thought we could find the actual docks from which each departure took place.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4SxXceT4RyieBXJUenMxgoBipRkKWnS6jE1PMvZoEMH4RHmtK-1SN4t97iIo7T3EBO0x0lCOsGwOWDX-BVjaF61HrQ6BxzpPXUSwqodyQ0zFFlCrsmTi6UIhyphenhyphenAJeMMta3swuDFaAmE90/s1600/liverpool-all-small-43948-large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1062" data-original-width="1600" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4SxXceT4RyieBXJUenMxgoBipRkKWnS6jE1PMvZoEMH4RHmtK-1SN4t97iIo7T3EBO0x0lCOsGwOWDX-BVjaF61HrQ6BxzpPXUSwqodyQ0zFFlCrsmTi6UIhyphenhyphenAJeMMta3swuDFaAmE90/s640/liverpool-all-small-43948-large.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Liverpool and Its Docks, 1851</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPKR73x4U1SD5nohov6tP4l8zsKeceZf3h-Ss0XxxG2T5jt1eXtchFMrFWDLWzwZeKpZ_w76LTfYjvYjy1h8ByU0aCYp3saba7mQRwuItE2pvVG4OIh9lT0jkT5D-1Rei0_4lxRIqisgo/s1600/1935+Liverpool+Docks+cut.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="239" data-original-width="1600" height="94" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPKR73x4U1SD5nohov6tP4l8zsKeceZf3h-Ss0XxxG2T5jt1eXtchFMrFWDLWzwZeKpZ_w76LTfYjvYjy1h8ByU0aCYp3saba7mQRwuItE2pvVG4OIh9lT0jkT5D-1Rei0_4lxRIqisgo/s640/1935+Liverpool+Docks+cut.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Liverpool Docks, 1935, at the Height of the Port Development</td></tr>
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Some of the various docks are named in the narrative accounts of the <a href="https://mormonmigration.lib.byu.edu/">Mormon Migration database</a>, but most are not. I checked the <i>Liverpool Mercury</i> in the British Newspapers collection available online in any LDS Family History branch library. There are notices of each ship sailing with the date in the maritime news listings. However, the docks are not mentioned. A bit of inspiration grabbed me to check the ads just before a sailing, and there it was down at the bottom. A notice for the "saloon" passengers to be at Alexandra Dock No. 3 to embark at 11:30 a.m. the next day. The steerage passengers would have already been packed in a day or so ahead of departure.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisvFdA79MZ1a8jp1OLabtwQ06HtQfMEFaTGLH1HmjvfWBWMM4Rc84DchrSo10SRXpp_tO2oK9O1x9sERUjrzIvRk9mJ5w-arZAkZQu1WYAcJxC3qlk-XpgT0pWTQFrihezQ-crJIgCGiM/s1600/Liverpool+Mercury+21+May+1886%252C+p.+8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="764" data-original-width="740" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisvFdA79MZ1a8jp1OLabtwQ06HtQfMEFaTGLH1HmjvfWBWMM4Rc84DchrSo10SRXpp_tO2oK9O1x9sERUjrzIvRk9mJ5w-arZAkZQu1WYAcJxC3qlk-XpgT0pWTQFrihezQ-crJIgCGiM/s640/Liverpool+Mercury+21+May+1886%252C+p.+8.jpg" width="618" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Liverpool Mercury</i>, 21 May 1886, p. 8.</td></tr>
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It was fair weather but cloudy that Saturday on the Mersey. There had been thunderstorms over England. As the <i class="">Nevada</i> left its moorings that afternoon and passed through the locks out of the Alexandra docks, it headed to the south-west towards Ireland. My Great-Great Grandfather was maybe on deck, port side, watching the dark clouds over Snowdonia in his native Wales.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAFACPeLcIW3VPFGlkf-hK96t35oH0e_nmgY3cBAbMQqCAnWCoj7AyWVc2fodpyFMmpsa4KeO1ux52s2qFsm4Pc_PdtvhEzYw10N0eG8lywCOESRsHm7up0yPA4oQuHImGTlEWRaVEBS8/s1600/Alexandra+Dock+No.+3%252C+Liverpool.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="919" data-original-width="1500" height="392" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAFACPeLcIW3VPFGlkf-hK96t35oH0e_nmgY3cBAbMQqCAnWCoj7AyWVc2fodpyFMmpsa4KeO1ux52s2qFsm4Pc_PdtvhEzYw10N0eG8lywCOESRsHm7up0yPA4oQuHImGTlEWRaVEBS8/s640/Alexandra+Dock+No.+3%252C+Liverpool.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A recent photo of Alexandra Dock No. 3, still in operation at the Port of Liverpool.</td></tr>
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Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07133789257179902461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943724228102202927.post-81045165339568499842018-09-02T09:58:00.000-07:002018-09-05T09:01:30.489-07:00A Visit to the Vaughan Home in Cusop, Church Cottage<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Skipping dinner was no sacrifice for me. I had a car hire for just a few days. There was no gap in the tour schedule, so I just took off when I could. We were already in Merthyr, so I just headed over the Beacons past Brecon and on to the Wye, up the backside of Hay, and into Cusop Village.</div>
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The Cusop History Group had already provided some <a href="https://johnelinorvaughan.blogspot.com/2018/05/likely-vaughan-house-in-cusop.html">good evidence of the location of Cusop Green</a> and the only house there in the 1830s is the only house there now, Church Cottage, across from the lower corner of St. Mary's churchyard. This is very likely where John and Elinor Vaughan lived in the 1810s-1820s. Several of their children were likely born there. Possibly, that included John Vaughan (1825) in my direct line of fathers' fathers.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifAgNI-TlmgIyb7Nw_CO6rob2MzJeQL-BbGs3_2I_lTOmG9QOtgcDcuOeZ1ivxg84FwXrIfO7v_wRy8NIK0BgkFMUiawYqwQAn-RJsowOn41FpvVe_wus6YBYCCTaYJ_ToqW0xaNeE9C0/s1600/IMG_1024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1068" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifAgNI-TlmgIyb7Nw_CO6rob2MzJeQL-BbGs3_2I_lTOmG9QOtgcDcuOeZ1ivxg84FwXrIfO7v_wRy8NIK0BgkFMUiawYqwQAn-RJsowOn41FpvVe_wus6YBYCCTaYJ_ToqW0xaNeE9C0/s640/IMG_1024.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Church Cottage, Cusop Green, Cusop, Herefordshire</td></tr>
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<a name='more'></a>I knocked on the door and asked the woman answering if I could take some pictures from the outside. She was busy fixing a meal but said that would be alright. I started snapping away, then a man came out of the house holding a framed picture. He was most helpful in explaining what he knew of the history of the house over the past 150 years. He also explained what he was doing in restoration work. Much thanks to him!<br />
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The original house is the tallest part. There are now additions on both sides. The dormer windows are an extension of what may have been original low windows in the second level of the house. The house was originally two cottages apparently split with the side on the right a little bigger than the side on the left. The former door to the second, smaller cottage was on the side of the house. The outline of a former ground floor window of that smaller cottage can be seen in the stonework.<br />
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The stonework is original. The current owner has removed the white-painted cement covering that is common, and unfortunate, on these older, stone buildings. He explained that the stone and the mortar allowed the house to breathe. They are built on no foundation so the cement covering would cause dampness inside the house. His work is both aesthetically pleasing and environmentally sound.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEnPQZ39x3n0ZXBbbw2TDw7XGP6oqCTixKzoe1ZonshVnS1Vf89m5rMzRhDQHML8f097j91o2OLKXulTKGFTKxmJ7WhOao24yPoAOaJVzD3mFIz0r1RyQ0Mg3vfYLx7Ms5gbW55npJq20/s1600/IMG_1017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1388" data-original-width="1600" height="554" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEnPQZ39x3n0ZXBbbw2TDw7XGP6oqCTixKzoe1ZonshVnS1Vf89m5rMzRhDQHML8f097j91o2OLKXulTKGFTKxmJ7WhOao24yPoAOaJVzD3mFIz0r1RyQ0Mg3vfYLx7Ms5gbW55npJq20/s640/IMG_1017.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Church Cottage, Cusop</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-ZxHoaPtMiN8hVNsSP2VaKmzSRBC4_hf057WlfbnCwevIkswWGUj-tW_SSXoZfgzhckUmtDqFRX7ZUaXfdjqqDrojJ_gcLtBHAzQJAzeAhP6RRVlfKOyrnjggVJGC5jwJz3PISsyP2mA/s1600/IMG_1022.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-ZxHoaPtMiN8hVNsSP2VaKmzSRBC4_hf057WlfbnCwevIkswWGUj-tW_SSXoZfgzhckUmtDqFRX7ZUaXfdjqqDrojJ_gcLtBHAzQJAzeAhP6RRVlfKOyrnjggVJGC5jwJz3PISsyP2mA/s640/IMG_1022.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The corner of Church Cottage and the North Gate into St. Mary's churchyard.<br />
This would have been the area of Cusop Green, probably the lower portion of the churchyard.<br />
And this is the gate I entered when I walked up for <a href="https://johnelinorvaughan.blogspot.com/2018/04/cymru-2018-april-1-easter-edition.html">Easter Services last April</a>.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgKXp3xTxAhex0i2MlKNiO-6m7_wI-FqZVhrWU9yEkZkIKviEHQ8_hhxcW4UIAenH2IJcGUjGpcQhDGSH3W5Ma5BEYfNRMg6Uf6AjS9wJHqBgVUWYKPeRLbJfCRFZG66B_IjCWvJMkUVc/s1600/IMG_1030.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgKXp3xTxAhex0i2MlKNiO-6m7_wI-FqZVhrWU9yEkZkIKviEHQ8_hhxcW4UIAenH2IJcGUjGpcQhDGSH3W5Ma5BEYfNRMg6Uf6AjS9wJHqBgVUWYKPeRLbJfCRFZG66B_IjCWvJMkUVc/s640/IMG_1030.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Church Cottage from within St. Mary's Churchyard.</td></tr>
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The current owner sent me another photo by email that I hesitate to show because the lurid details may detract from the story but every piece of evidence helps. Church Cottage appeared in history in 1921 as a supposed victim of arsenic poisoning was disinterred from St. Mary's churchyard across the road and the coffin transported into the cottage for a time. This was the infamous "Dandelion Murder" with a solicitor hanged on the circumstantial case of using arsenic purchased from a chemist supposedly for dandelion control but more likely to slowly poison his wife. Truth is more amazing than fiction as this incident has inspired many murder mysteries involving misappropriated arsenic from the gardening supplies.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvG8viYRQf-vg5uuI5lSU22BR3Gd89Zw0CV0jZXv9VzQw1aoF4PyORdrlsiA1sj1nSqgW5jpo3W2sqiTaaBLL8RB06X2PhTe3MrANsMzwTQxUiWG_SLzJytAnXFHRyviQOGWhi7J2Ho3w/s1600/image1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="753" data-original-width="960" height="251" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvG8viYRQf-vg5uuI5lSU22BR3Gd89Zw0CV0jZXv9VzQw1aoF4PyORdrlsiA1sj1nSqgW5jpo3W2sqiTaaBLL8RB06X2PhTe3MrANsMzwTQxUiWG_SLzJytAnXFHRyviQOGWhi7J2Ho3w/s320/image1.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CSI Cusop</td></tr>
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As the current owner pointed out, this old photograph shows the house cemented over, the dormer additions are already in place, but the door to the second cottage on the side of the house is still functional and apparently adequate for a coffin. Note the family in the adjoining cottage peering out their door at the disturbing sight.</div>
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When the 1921 British Census is released, we can probably identify the family peering out from next door. In the 1911 Census, there is only a John Pugh, a widower, age 67, living at Church Cottage. His occupation is listed as "general labourer." He may have been a grave digger in St. Mary's churchyard. It's hard to imagine him still doing that at age 77. There is an old shed across the road from Church Cottage that was used as a morgue for the Church. Most interestingly, his residence is listed as having three rooms indicating that it may be the smaller of the two cottages evident in the picture above. The other side appears to have the usual two-up, two-down.<br />
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The current owner also noted that the tenants in those days would have been farm labourers on the farm to the east, which I understand to be the matching "Church Farm."<br />
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Returning further to brighter things, I note that one can see Church Cottage from under the large yew tree outside the entrance to St. Mary's.<br />
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<a href="http://www.moderatebutpassionate.com/2011/10/return-to-holy-yew.html">The Yew told me to return</a>. Every time I do I learn something new. I will keep returning.<br /><br />____________<br />This has been edited slightly pursuant to an email with corrections from the current owner. The blocked up stonework on the front of the smaller cottage is a former window. The door to the smaller cottage was on the side of the house where the policeman is standing to the left in the 1921 photo.</div>
Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07133789257179902461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943724228102202927.post-21458767204101238152018-08-01T20:45:00.000-07:002018-08-01T21:02:41.732-07:00Isabella Bowman and Thomas Vaughan Connections in County Durham, England<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8f91ZywIZKmaQZ1Tib1AlaVUKHxx3PcS7e9aIoj1f2QQ8DPOb-xKNajimYsBRiR02FU0AQw7cWFDX1Csr-KLesJwauY0arxbYmQ1MhAUKUaNnT4WAlpcybJpoJWLYVNF59gfV2J_JTws/s1600/Cocken+Pit+%2528coal%2529+1860s+Ordnance+Survey.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1" data-original-width="1" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8f91ZywIZKmaQZ1Tib1AlaVUKHxx3PcS7e9aIoj1f2QQ8DPOb-xKNajimYsBRiR02FU0AQw7cWFDX1Csr-KLesJwauY0arxbYmQ1MhAUKUaNnT4WAlpcybJpoJWLYVNF59gfV2J_JTws/s1600/Cocken+Pit+%2528coal%2529+1860s+Ordnance+Survey.gif" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEOcIia-vFpi4Ow2T_UHOBK3zDLYoZK4LiWAhxcFSbhcxmb06iG5QjplMDQi2H9Iz-S2mZCOVe88490kQReg4w_wKZ-KNVo1fnCRpSjSTu-z-Asni0W2I40gujyN6LX5DKCtzlc-G973Y/s1600/Vaughan%252C+Thomas+and+Isabella%252C+County+Durham.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="673" data-original-width="1084" height="396" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEOcIia-vFpi4Ow2T_UHOBK3zDLYoZK4LiWAhxcFSbhcxmb06iG5QjplMDQi2H9Iz-S2mZCOVe88490kQReg4w_wKZ-KNVo1fnCRpSjSTu-z-Asni0W2I40gujyN6LX5DKCtzlc-G973Y/s640/Vaughan%252C+Thomas+and+Isabella%252C+County+Durham.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Please note "5-mile" scale in key. This area is not large.</td></tr>
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So I've been researching a bunch of ancestral sites for people going on our tour in a couple of weeks. I realized there is still a lot more work to be done for our own people.<br />
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Still kicking myself for not going north with my Aunt and Dad's Cousin in 2010, I will try to get there next summer. In the meanwhile, I am tracing Thomas and Isabella Vaughan who joined with the LDS Church in Stockton, County Durham in the early 1880s leaving for America in 1886 and 1887 respectively.<br />
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The 1871 Census finds Thomas still in South Wales working in his father's profession as a puddler in the ironworks of Abersychan. His first appearance is his marriage to Isabella Bowman in the Register Office, not a church, in Bishop Auckland, County Durham, England on the Third of August, 1875. They both gave their residence as Blue Row, which I assume was their first home. Sadly, Blue Row no longer exists. I did find an old picture of what it looked like:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8FFamWP2O5nQ1G7kI7Ir_dzNQNy4oJAx26VH5Se-kjbvMuZrseEQmi3sQIdik1hyphenhyphen-XRf6N6e-i6TtwvhVUUGxZ_YhzipaiFFaCTi0_oFzs5eDTH05BhHVcRMTfd3Gadk1Yc8Vq6-E2Hc/s1600/Blue+Row+from+Facebook+page+on+History+of+Bish+Auckland.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1015" data-original-width="1547" height="419" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8FFamWP2O5nQ1G7kI7Ir_dzNQNy4oJAx26VH5Se-kjbvMuZrseEQmi3sQIdik1hyphenhyphen-XRf6N6e-i6TtwvhVUUGxZ_YhzipaiFFaCTi0_oFzs5eDTH05BhHVcRMTfd3Gadk1Yc8Vq6-E2Hc/s640/Blue+Row+from+Facebook+page+on+History+of+Bish+Auckland.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blue Row, South of Bishop Auckland, 1950s (from Facebook page on Bishop Auckland History)</td></tr>
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<a name='more'></a>By the 1950s, Blue Row was in a horrible condition and torn down to make room for more modern housing. The location is just southwest of where the A689, formerly Church Road, crosses under the still existing railroad, just east of the Bishop Auckland train depot.<br />
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Here is an old Ordnance Survey Map with Blue Row highlighted appropriately in blue:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNd_oTnuB7WdT-K4mBZFJVXIleFVqKO9bdAyY9XhWE8s0BnTWpF8DK2AZcMs2aDy01hoO470dfjYVbPeSh8rLkd8fAFMgRfUt7beHVli0F3ULWf-ykZb0fCl72CkcEjFlXhMQ6N3hSG4M/s1600/Blue+Row+south+of+Bishop+Auckland.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="622" data-original-width="707" height="562" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNd_oTnuB7WdT-K4mBZFJVXIleFVqKO9bdAyY9XhWE8s0BnTWpF8DK2AZcMs2aDy01hoO470dfjYVbPeSh8rLkd8fAFMgRfUt7beHVli0F3ULWf-ykZb0fCl72CkcEjFlXhMQ6N3hSG4M/s640/Blue+Row+south+of+Bishop+Auckland.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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And a modern map with pin at the approximate location:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWtJr8fc_QHPfSruoKFwflOHxy_4yK0CHsbLWKI2YPTrPfdcnR2RFBclyWOfeIf_dxkh2ApLc5nUlcTi-wbbRaHTBgmz0mQlTZn1Ih8nRAHKwiwWIzMg3nv8nsTFkFwVwOBpjf09Ip3Rc/s1600/modern+Google+Blue+Row.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="656" data-original-width="974" height="430" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWtJr8fc_QHPfSruoKFwflOHxy_4yK0CHsbLWKI2YPTrPfdcnR2RFBclyWOfeIf_dxkh2ApLc5nUlcTi-wbbRaHTBgmz0mQlTZn1Ih8nRAHKwiwWIzMg3nv8nsTFkFwVwOBpjf09Ip3Rc/s640/modern+Google+Blue+Row.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not the Stan Laurel memorial pin, but the one in the lower center that says, "Blue Row 1875, etc."</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgreWlk3bR7WEzjEDiYy5ZNjksZQyHZooDo513i4og30EoB0IFnID84gQKstKstG3eFWm80NickA_m5NVFiDogcTC27f88GkhK0wM4-blNMANaZO7vWwdTXutMKD4oswsSVDDTWY35X-JM/s1600/Craghead+1920s.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="150" data-original-width="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgreWlk3bR7WEzjEDiYy5ZNjksZQyHZooDo513i4og30EoB0IFnID84gQKstKstG3eFWm80NickA_m5NVFiDogcTC27f88GkhK0wM4-blNMANaZO7vWwdTXutMKD4oswsSVDDTWY35X-JM/s1600/Craghead+1920s.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Craghead, 1920s</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhDoIOFZHRuHh4SYTw7lcvR_M2VLQtGAUE4I3ZwZXbk6EVKd6Cr-PjhU5st3D71eUzZHy7yb7e5gG7R8LduCLimIy0cc6qX_QwhyB3DKH_WmkgCkN2YvBkcqsHQoJedBLB6cVts82lpM0/s1600/Craghead+1950s.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="180" data-original-width="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhDoIOFZHRuHh4SYTw7lcvR_M2VLQtGAUE4I3ZwZXbk6EVKd6Cr-PjhU5st3D71eUzZHy7yb7e5gG7R8LduCLimIy0cc6qX_QwhyB3DKH_WmkgCkN2YvBkcqsHQoJedBLB6cVts82lpM0/s1600/Craghead+1950s.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Craghead, 1950s</td></tr>
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And we have to jump back to trace Isabella Bowman's history before she married Thomas Vaughan. She was born in Craghead, County Durham, to Hugh and Mary Bowman, on 10 October 1858.<br />
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Does anyone have her birth certificate? I wonder if it gives any more details like a house number. I'll have to order one if no one reports in or posts on FamilySearch. The old rows in Craghead still seem to be standing.<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ-oLMNjUwBkIdIEe2f4PbV_kfGfiMZrMNQXK4-C361ouHeyh5fYCQhnjAMYRyGekwKJJuGoxmXckOKbVVjYVP4AI5Q7oV8KuEkVJm4sdbvGcrLi8Nz5SX1GXDNrgPK69GGNOV5uZ_fJA/s1600/Craghead%252C+Durham%252C+England.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="541" data-original-width="994" height="348" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ-oLMNjUwBkIdIEe2f4PbV_kfGfiMZrMNQXK4-C361ouHeyh5fYCQhnjAMYRyGekwKJJuGoxmXckOKbVVjYVP4AI5Q7oV8KuEkVJm4sdbvGcrLi8Nz5SX1GXDNrgPK69GGNOV5uZ_fJA/s640/Craghead%252C+Durham%252C+England.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Modern entrance to Craghead, County Durham, from Google street view.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhADBZFSTvl7XfqX2O3Xa4HLJZU5ZEdRnSvSrPAL8G__p00Rq8C3Wmxm8zWCuf_pNLN7VqEiA18X98ZjMh5TWnzrEk6o-Z_meg9BEXxhi2PfPb1Gr4EZeO5wziLPImxGyCKLN8s0Z-xYHA/s1600/Front+Street%252C+Craghead%252C+Durham%252C+England.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="616" data-original-width="1350" height="292" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhADBZFSTvl7XfqX2O3Xa4HLJZU5ZEdRnSvSrPAL8G__p00Rq8C3Wmxm8zWCuf_pNLN7VqEiA18X98ZjMh5TWnzrEk6o-Z_meg9BEXxhi2PfPb1Gr4EZeO5wziLPImxGyCKLN8s0Z-xYHA/s640/Front+Street%252C+Craghead%252C+Durham%252C+England.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Modern Front Street, Craghead, County Durham, England</td></tr>
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There is a statue in Craghead memorializing the coal miners like Isabella's father, Hugh, and her brothers.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiww1norMekZLQlsMGlBp0OF8BFY569XuJ9wiYA4jj0gXlrRi9XEJvNIjkspEm5asPf01t2nvnLu9z6AnjZOIRrcBViqwuVp3HYj2pc6KhH-EF-D-C52r_mawIbfRaSbUbr8xtZ2hOQDeA/s1600/Craghead+Miner+Monument.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="683" data-original-width="1024" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiww1norMekZLQlsMGlBp0OF8BFY569XuJ9wiYA4jj0gXlrRi9XEJvNIjkspEm5asPf01t2nvnLu9z6AnjZOIRrcBViqwuVp3HYj2pc6KhH-EF-D-C52r_mawIbfRaSbUbr8xtZ2hOQDeA/s640/Craghead+Miner+Monument.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Monument to Miners, Craghead, County Durham, England</td></tr>
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In the 1861 Census, Isabella Bowman's parents are living in the Dragonville area on the East side of Durham. There is no street or number given. However, there appear to be a few older rowhouses on Dragon Lane that could have been around that long.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf_gDPpX-RfXK1BWzJSh3NqIhr5WbetpA3Y1hoIstLeKLItlTIsZOPLui4W1zycP8KUTbaRJa2N3mfqMJbhr3W-JfXeieOC7nrMixcs0p1UsJqGnKtFzDnhyphenhyphenO9gL89qb27kQCuFMTQcHU/s1600/Dragon+Lane%252C+Durham.+Modern+Google.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="665" data-original-width="1345" height="316" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf_gDPpX-RfXK1BWzJSh3NqIhr5WbetpA3Y1hoIstLeKLItlTIsZOPLui4W1zycP8KUTbaRJa2N3mfqMJbhr3W-JfXeieOC7nrMixcs0p1UsJqGnKtFzDnhyphenhyphenO9gL89qb27kQCuFMTQcHU/s640/Dragon+Lane%252C+Durham.+Modern+Google.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Rows of houses appear on the 1898 Ordnance Survey Map with modern Dragon Lane highlighted in blue. "Dragonville" was then named, "Dragon Villa."</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0CsKm2WyHPeRK9lsnfOvJcUa08HPCpnzY4PZgvGVLbwIuxB-Jxu3DrXcHbx8t_8HXFvHhnEfHqWcKeTV6QNDIjzMTosvzIWmUQW_R0Y1qr94Qa1U2gjlglW_buyEeMcCCVARKjGwS9uE/s1600/Durham+OS+1898+%2528from+Canmore%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="516" data-original-width="1013" height="326" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0CsKm2WyHPeRK9lsnfOvJcUa08HPCpnzY4PZgvGVLbwIuxB-Jxu3DrXcHbx8t_8HXFvHhnEfHqWcKeTV6QNDIjzMTosvzIWmUQW_R0Y1qr94Qa1U2gjlglW_buyEeMcCCVARKjGwS9uE/s640/Durham+OS+1898+%2528from+Canmore%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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In 1871, Isabella lived with her widow mother as her father had just passed away. The Census finds them in Blue Row, Bishop Auckland, the same place where Thomas and Isabella lived when they were married described above.<br />
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By 1881, Isabella's widowed mother, Mary Bowman, was living with a son at Cocken Pit, south of Great Lumley, near Chester-le-Street. The area has been reclaimed into farmland. There are only traces of the former rail lines and mining works on a satellite image of the area.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvcjEx_KmWzvyThCim43FzXtFw7cN1QIxW-e8YciXy3VT5dlalCLekJ_RrnpF6B3ARV976qMDFqmysMTzdIV5OVbnU7GHB-qqpti7TTMYzWWGNy2NdccWA3vVg4DaMd57lw1cg1EuDIoc/s1600/Cocken+Pit%252C+Chester+le+Street+1900s+OS+map.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1366" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvcjEx_KmWzvyThCim43FzXtFw7cN1QIxW-e8YciXy3VT5dlalCLekJ_RrnpF6B3ARV976qMDFqmysMTzdIV5OVbnU7GHB-qqpti7TTMYzWWGNy2NdccWA3vVg4DaMd57lw1cg1EuDIoc/s640/Cocken+Pit%252C+Chester+le+Street+1900s+OS+map.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1890s Ordnance Survey Map. Cocken Pit is at center.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9ZJqwNQQAy8fusBl1dCWgN_MwV7Ihi0V1lXFHbKp7l_AXEvOOYeXaEtDH_ZNF8WYPhvYDvXYVnH6afVfBvJcA2p_CX38RsSx5h2qHBArOzmHsIjUwm_taHKjIoqAJiK6fctF9C6gISF8/s1600/Cocken+Pit+%2528coal%2529+1860s+Ordnance+Survey.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="527" data-original-width="651" height="518" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9ZJqwNQQAy8fusBl1dCWgN_MwV7Ihi0V1lXFHbKp7l_AXEvOOYeXaEtDH_ZNF8WYPhvYDvXYVnH6afVfBvJcA2p_CX38RsSx5h2qHBArOzmHsIjUwm_taHKjIoqAJiK6fctF9C6gISF8/s640/Cocken+Pit+%2528coal%2529+1860s+Ordnance+Survey.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">From an 1860 Ordnance Survey Map</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKTolpB8scvyMQhQveiPXPXHT1S9ABafp8MH5x2_btIhC2F2WsKcBXYd3qrj_a1mG-9lWq9EPv64YMj29Wcy6JI4QAlJHNCYVVGyozL7DsinFgrD_rHLg4HdKO56ls6lAVe9G_A-GRZbE/s1600/Modern+Satellite%252C+Cochen+Pit+reclaimed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="606" data-original-width="779" height="496" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKTolpB8scvyMQhQveiPXPXHT1S9ABafp8MH5x2_btIhC2F2WsKcBXYd3qrj_a1mG-9lWq9EPv64YMj29Wcy6JI4QAlJHNCYVVGyozL7DsinFgrD_rHLg4HdKO56ls6lAVe9G_A-GRZbE/s640/Modern+Satellite%252C+Cochen+Pit+reclaimed.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">A modern, Google satellite image of the former Cocken Pit (underground mine) with traces of the rail lines and works visible in the field</td></tr>
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The surprise was finding Isabella "Van" visiting in her mother's house in the 1881 Census. So far, we have been unable to locate where Thomas may have been for that census.<br />
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Most importantly, we have found where the Thomas Vaughan Family lived in 1883 when Stockton LDS Branch records indicate that Thomas was much involved in Priesthood and M.I.A. meetings that were held at his house - with an address: 17 Palmerston Road, Stockton-on-Tees, County Durham, England. The house still appears to exist. This is high on a list of places to visit as soon as I get the chance.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSogBDzeR3i24eMbnA7rSsBIZz6q2yHQWvbPzNYx3NtJQslQRBfoERV_qoy8PP1IUzPB8zZoscQq6-9psWb5eO4duvUtfdUK_TFiKV_Nryxtq4oe9CuGiTKEUF-avpOul-vsRr2OBEd_s/s1600/1883+Thomas+and+Isabella+Vaughan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="650" data-original-width="1320" height="314" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSogBDzeR3i24eMbnA7rSsBIZz6q2yHQWvbPzNYx3NtJQslQRBfoERV_qoy8PP1IUzPB8zZoscQq6-9psWb5eO4duvUtfdUK_TFiKV_Nryxtq4oe9CuGiTKEUF-avpOul-vsRr2OBEd_s/s640/1883+Thomas+and+Isabella+Vaughan.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Sadly, King Street in Witton Park and where my Great Grandfather George Robert Vaughan was born in 1886, no longer exists. It was torn down as part of urban renewal in old Witton Park. Queen Street is still there. And we do have pictures of what it may have looked like back when Thomas and Isabella lived there before they left for the United States.<br />
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(All photos that follow are from the "I Came From Witton Park" Facebook page.)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX3ck7v3F6JTBvLsj6rliy-EgCjSqXbhlHJPPfDTGrQjdKteeUfcIW9muwPVbhQZdxlSudPWpCN3FCCwL_-Pt9cIMoNSkfK_7KmXwhwYYUDARmeebHazTignAIQ5Fb_kYCacFqSgZOIf4/s1600/Witton+Park+sign.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="453" data-original-width="604" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX3ck7v3F6JTBvLsj6rliy-EgCjSqXbhlHJPPfDTGrQjdKteeUfcIW9muwPVbhQZdxlSudPWpCN3FCCwL_-Pt9cIMoNSkfK_7KmXwhwYYUDARmeebHazTignAIQ5Fb_kYCacFqSgZOIf4/s1600/Witton+Park+sign.jpg" /></a><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie7ATUUGVqTP84hLi5Pt8IpLJhw1gUwWdFv2jMDI71g4x7FfCF-IjKxayN9ZwoFYYvIiGFjK6PW1HJY25Os3JT0MCqqNziGxSgYsYJWJdUArDAwHSUkGWGO9ULqvmMGq0OIOUfobi9AOs/s1600/Low+King+St%252C+Witton+Park.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="401" data-original-width="650" height="394" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie7ATUUGVqTP84hLi5Pt8IpLJhw1gUwWdFv2jMDI71g4x7FfCF-IjKxayN9ZwoFYYvIiGFjK6PW1HJY25Os3JT0MCqqNziGxSgYsYJWJdUArDAwHSUkGWGO9ULqvmMGq0OIOUfobi9AOs/s640/Low+King+St%252C+Witton+Park.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Low King St, looking up</td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir4B_eqobZREsf-IL3aLQnUDto5pjfKQlCwMiyiVMTtWXDbcNfZ-mLseSMbIsnhOqKkb5hmsCNmhbRaRussVJhdC0lGM17LlvD3Bwa1n8akufaq3yjwLkMg98ACA0-cmgSH9d1OnCauKM/s1600/High+King+St%252C+Witton+Park.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="407" data-original-width="719" height="362" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir4B_eqobZREsf-IL3aLQnUDto5pjfKQlCwMiyiVMTtWXDbcNfZ-mLseSMbIsnhOqKkb5hmsCNmhbRaRussVJhdC0lGM17LlvD3Bwa1n8akufaq3yjwLkMg98ACA0-cmgSH9d1OnCauKM/s640/High+King+St%252C+Witton+Park.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">HIgh King Street<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHe38bgzvpgJsWQJFDLSefdmzcSXJwJ4V_59BVjfl22ZOnH9Fex_aVdMH1lsaz43uldxOxWw0jpTmVeSfcCTL2ztGqi6mvPDGtdi7O9S5JzFMFna4AfsgL2Kjnkl5D2BLcFjPcxrvNjrs/s1600/KIng+Street+snow+c1947.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-size: medium; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="698" data-original-width="1027" height="434" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHe38bgzvpgJsWQJFDLSefdmzcSXJwJ4V_59BVjfl22ZOnH9Fex_aVdMH1lsaz43uldxOxWw0jpTmVeSfcCTL2ztGqi6mvPDGtdi7O9S5JzFMFna4AfsgL2Kjnkl5D2BLcFjPcxrvNjrs/s640/KIng+Street+snow+c1947.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigpHCdAMb8bOJqSy6RLoD4krK0bBXlkexg4YnC4BT4aUrKe_qiQHh9zVFV9ZqnBVDE1P2KJU6L5W60moKu-Ikj4Nvo5_NzGpc9T7fZ-V-4gHegwqtGzMK4dM7tn12n5UMDwH-_nISGGn8/s1600/Alley+behind+King+Street%252C+Witton+Park.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="942" data-original-width="960" height="628" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigpHCdAMb8bOJqSy6RLoD4krK0bBXlkexg4YnC4BT4aUrKe_qiQHh9zVFV9ZqnBVDE1P2KJU6L5W60moKu-Ikj4Nvo5_NzGpc9T7fZ-V-4gHegwqtGzMK4dM7tn12n5UMDwH-_nISGGn8/s640/Alley+behind+King+Street%252C+Witton+Park.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif_UkR3dHejUIYvJymT9FwjE0MihU794eMUOiwTEqSptTjOqga36liKDbP53HZ-pT8PzQcElPPS3eOF6St0e-1vagnytBKlNQMs842l1cBd17DvC4oWxIXbT4kJBv3ul9i2m_EyXksfaU/s1600/High+King+St+c1955.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="652" data-original-width="960" height="434" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif_UkR3dHejUIYvJymT9FwjE0MihU794eMUOiwTEqSptTjOqga36liKDbP53HZ-pT8PzQcElPPS3eOF6St0e-1vagnytBKlNQMs842l1cBd17DvC4oWxIXbT4kJBv3ul9i2m_EyXksfaU/s640/High+King+St+c1955.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07133789257179902461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943724228102202927.post-56491104230388207992018-06-01T04:41:00.001-07:002018-06-01T04:41:39.144-07:00An Apostle's Family Forged in Welsh Iron<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT8xAlxDq_-nmae5H4htLHzyvYC7ghbtFbUUC3SteKb-gLjNe1N4v2C8_X-6Z7ekR2m7ktIVaBXLlUCmgLZGv9Kvab7fzdVgnQ-jU-rHdM8ltBhl7K-p3VNzTD989zZMNYTpRKUyzm-Vth/s1600/Albert_E_Bowen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="440" data-original-width="330" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT8xAlxDq_-nmae5H4htLHzyvYC7ghbtFbUUC3SteKb-gLjNe1N4v2C8_X-6Z7ekR2m7ktIVaBXLlUCmgLZGv9Kvab7fzdVgnQ-jU-rHdM8ltBhl7K-p3VNzTD989zZMNYTpRKUyzm-Vth/s1600/Albert_E_Bowen.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Albert Ernest Bowen (1875-1953). LDS Apostle 1937.</td></tr>
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Albert E. Bowen is not one of the big names in LDS Church leadership. He was a serious-minded, hard-working man. He appears to be best remembered and quoted in LDS General Conference for his teachings on Self-Reliance and the Church Welfare Program. He wrote a booklet entitled "Constancy Amid Change" that was updated in the 1980s as well as authoring a Sunday School course of study, "The Church Welfare Plan."<br />
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One of the more recent General Conference quotes attributed to Elder Bowen was in an address by Elder J. Thomas Fyans in 1982:<br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 19.26px;">The only way the Church can stand independent is for its members to stand independent, for the Church IS its members. It is not possible to conceive of an independent Church made up of dependent members—members who are under the inescapable obligation of dependency. The Lord must want and intend that His people shall be free of constraint whether enforceable or only arising out of the bindings of conscience. It is not believed that any person or people can live from gratuities—rely upon them for means of subsistence and remain wholly free in thought, motive and action. History seems to record no such instance. That is why the Church is concerned that its members, who have physical and mental capacity to do so, shall render service commensurate with their capacities for aid extended. That is why the Church is not satisfied with any system which leaves able people permanently dependent, and insists, on the contrary, that the true function and office of giving is to help people into a position where they can help themselves and thus be free.</span></blockquote>
Elder Bowen knew a lot about self-reliance. Born on a farm near Samaria, Idaho, he worked hard in his youth. He spent a harsh winter with a brother homesteading a parcel of land in Star Valley, Wyoming. His mother, Annie Shackelton Bowen (1840-1929) shared her love of books and learning and Albert did well in school, served a mission in Switzerland and Germany, and studied law at the University of Chicago. He excelled in the practice of law and business in Cache Valley and Salt Lake City, Utah. He was called to be an Apostle by President Heber J. Grant in 1937.<br />
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What interests me is that his father was David Bowen (1837-1910), born in Blaenavon, Monmouthshire, Wales. He traveled to Utah in the <a href="https://johnelinorvaughan.blogspot.com/p/this-is-first-in-series-of-handcart.html">Ellsworth Handcart Company in 1856</a> along with my 4th Great Grandmother, Eleanor Jenkins Vaughan (1789-1861). The Bowens and Vaughans must have known each other.<br />
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The Bowens appear to have been a well-organized family even back in Wales as his father Lewis Bowen (1815-1894) prepared to send David to Utah ahead of the rest of the family paying for much of his passage with the Perpetual Emigration Fund. He traveled on the Enoch Train along with Grandma Eleanor. David gave Abersychan as his address, the same as Elinor, and he listed his occupation as "puddler," the same as some of Eleanor's sons.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2mlqTSe2gBEzKRkib6KAVihyphenhyphenNwh6daBL1WQiH40a3W93FaV1NXiAJMixxSuXQuRU7_vNZe2mVVG7yO6UhOhHF6pLEFanuQ6XsArOUqgHDclvjmaD3A3iTmVp0653amE4R11dIIZ2-Lzhg/s1600/David+Bowen%252C+Puddler%252C+Abersychan%252C+Enoch+Train+1856.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="334" data-original-width="1337" height="158" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2mlqTSe2gBEzKRkib6KAVihyphenhyphenNwh6daBL1WQiH40a3W93FaV1NXiAJMixxSuXQuRU7_vNZe2mVVG7yO6UhOhHF6pLEFanuQ6XsArOUqgHDclvjmaD3A3iTmVp0653amE4R11dIIZ2-Lzhg/s640/David+Bowen%252C+Puddler%252C+Abersychan%252C+Enoch+Train+1856.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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The rest of the Bowen Family followed in 1863 with passage on the Mormon chartered ship, the Cynosure.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-K-kY2BVZmDa5SQiMRGtD3XZXg2BCF_12NjH5TxcH8z37H6yjhOfdpTNMrIDqTrVAhCePrgaQSaZITQ4a7HQrzY4dHiJ7_tK-Vh02940cPUbQ8ANs3ryLj5ogdItO8_JcMIWozCDptfxZ/s1600/Lewis+Bowen+and+Family+Mormon+Migration+1863.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="441" data-original-width="1322" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-K-kY2BVZmDa5SQiMRGtD3XZXg2BCF_12NjH5TxcH8z37H6yjhOfdpTNMrIDqTrVAhCePrgaQSaZITQ4a7HQrzY4dHiJ7_tK-Vh02940cPUbQ8ANs3ryLj5ogdItO8_JcMIWozCDptfxZ/s640/Lewis+Bowen+and+Family+Mormon+Migration+1863.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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The 1861 Census, with David already in Utah, shows the rest of his family residing in Trevethin in the Parish of Abersychan, Wales.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHUwdh5aBHfUe-RVMjbS-s0pK-JupZc9tCa8Or_KRiHnlAZdwLeOw8V9qOF4eR99zrTwk57_uUtw_8M7wNNXdzY4NlMUNGyk4gwqPNOPRal8zVE5s37BAD6wvUPPuLFwLAr-D5p8lpSXOi/s1600/MONRG9_4005_4012-0679.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="611" data-original-width="1600" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHUwdh5aBHfUe-RVMjbS-s0pK-JupZc9tCa8Or_KRiHnlAZdwLeOw8V9qOF4eR99zrTwk57_uUtw_8M7wNNXdzY4NlMUNGyk4gwqPNOPRal8zVE5s37BAD6wvUPPuLFwLAr-D5p8lpSXOi/s640/MONRG9_4005_4012-0679.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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The home no longer appears to be in existence. However, modern Google Maps shows an alleyway that led up to "Club Row" where the Bowens lived:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0rwixDh28VVXA3Cn4E-4SnqyNP23C6f60FVKD3f1kieWD_l30FbhARvg4ipmQ3-GQ3LRKZ9x6xVRFaB2_zCVbU27291N03i3Us6HeDoJB8qDmthSS3YqvqsDNOWaBO9B1ClzYRd7N3cI7/s1600/Club+Row+%2528lower%2529+Snatchwood%252C+Abersychan%252C+Trevethin%252C+Monmouthshire.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="626" data-original-width="1340" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0rwixDh28VVXA3Cn4E-4SnqyNP23C6f60FVKD3f1kieWD_l30FbhARvg4ipmQ3-GQ3LRKZ9x6xVRFaB2_zCVbU27291N03i3Us6HeDoJB8qDmthSS3YqvqsDNOWaBO9B1ClzYRd7N3cI7/s640/Club+Row+%2528lower%2529+Snatchwood%252C+Abersychan%252C+Trevethin%252C+Monmouthshire.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Interestingly, the 1851 Census finds David with the family, but in Scotland! You'll have to trust me on this because the Scots do not so easily share the images of their census online. And it was them because the 1861 Wales Census shows that one of their sons was born in Scotland. The indexing for the Bowen Family in 1851 indicates that they resided at "84 Square" in Dundyvan, Old Monkshire, Lanarkshire. This is the outskirts of Glasgow which was the industrial area of Scotland. David's father Lewis is listed with the interesting occupation of "maleable iron maker." This is a form of "puddling" to produce iron that can be reheated and formed.<br />
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"Square" appears to refer to the employee housing called "English Square" at the Dundyvan iron works. Perhaps the Scots thought of all non-Scots as "English."<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7_2KBy58FYFwZqlHqeyhcxOPMGNnzX233QPYngi-g2Jnu8856TM_WwTZoa08xWHLFxKqgmrZ7qToERgx6-S-vqaeViHtU52kBX21NVmFPX1KpwgZMz9N-mYJMz1WPVqw4tJ1iK4VMMCUS/s1600/Dundyvan+Iron+Works+showing+English+Square+OS+1880s.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1366" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7_2KBy58FYFwZqlHqeyhcxOPMGNnzX233QPYngi-g2Jnu8856TM_WwTZoa08xWHLFxKqgmrZ7qToERgx6-S-vqaeViHtU52kBX21NVmFPX1KpwgZMz9N-mYJMz1WPVqw4tJ1iK4VMMCUS/s640/Dundyvan+Iron+Works+showing+English+Square+OS+1880s.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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The same area can be found on a modern map:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrimHLSpgTDvYR6swZXObEKYYS1n9iQnMeuTI1afB56ePgylWFEQGsj9BzjMV3_SQ999Hmu-tpBMlV1riibVW0wFkErf8UF9NAhG7ONJk4FAcYZca0k5cyoAtUutRhx8Mm9efOWVJL4Gi0/s1600/Luggieburn+Walk+on+modern+map+overlay+of+English+Square+Dundyvan+works.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1366" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrimHLSpgTDvYR6swZXObEKYYS1n9iQnMeuTI1afB56ePgylWFEQGsj9BzjMV3_SQ999Hmu-tpBMlV1riibVW0wFkErf8UF9NAhG7ONJk4FAcYZca0k5cyoAtUutRhx8Mm9efOWVJL4Gi0/s640/Luggieburn+Walk+on+modern+map+overlay+of+English+Square+Dundyvan+works.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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The location of English Square now appears to be a nice, suburban, residential area:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEvsHxCibr8EYaj_Rrv81IJSfbgF-M8Y8gpbaNKCFHqqLCwE4hLWdCxS0MPIzBv6DeD6PBoxdk7NwP_nMaJJaQmkZ_3AzStHh1dOmweVrclZSDogoSSBYbx8w0H7-vJ4sP1-kbhbghoaL6/s1600/Current+view+of+English+Square+area+of+Dundyvan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="620" data-original-width="1365" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEvsHxCibr8EYaj_Rrv81IJSfbgF-M8Y8gpbaNKCFHqqLCwE4hLWdCxS0MPIzBv6DeD6PBoxdk7NwP_nMaJJaQmkZ_3AzStHh1dOmweVrclZSDogoSSBYbx8w0H7-vJ4sP1-kbhbghoaL6/s640/Current+view+of+English+Square+area+of+Dundyvan.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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The workers' homes were cleared out for urban renewal. A nearby area of workers' homes was described as hovels unfit for human occupation by George Orwell.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsVQI6MZ0sBQvTC7WlzVwWIaMV2QhBjdkeEm4Ldtg_qcFdQgNxNPVAY7I5nmPs8MOmTkSRMvtLqy87UOkOPQ3C16b9M5HLSWF2pto5iV5aQuK_eSCWeQWejzfjc2aL64WrHuEi6sGpnqfb/s1600/Rosehall+Rows+near+Dundyvan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="283" data-original-width="427" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsVQI6MZ0sBQvTC7WlzVwWIaMV2QhBjdkeEm4Ldtg_qcFdQgNxNPVAY7I5nmPs8MOmTkSRMvtLqy87UOkOPQ3C16b9M5HLSWF2pto5iV5aQuK_eSCWeQWejzfjc2aL64WrHuEi6sGpnqfb/s1600/Rosehall+Rows+near+Dundyvan.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Rosehall Rows, near Dundyvan, Scotland, 1930s.</td></tr>
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So far, I have not been able to find any explanation of what Lewis Bowen from Wales was doing in Scotland. Perhaps he was needed there for some special skill or process in forging the malleable iron. Perhaps that is simply where the work opportunities were at the time. The family only stayed in Scotland a few years returning to the slopes of the Blorenge Mountain in Wales.<br />
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Lewis Bowen had been born on the side of that mountain at Llanover, still a much more peaceful, rural setting.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRoQMoh6zLR7ov3KekV-Vf_Z2BHV0A5DNvYxamIJ1FzddUMeD0oCUMteyRGdlMjOPoX9XS4NVXqi8RSM3mK_4z7emnFgAq6Z63byTgTaa3ecF7KutBS1iM4z6mBIwZZjvzMkqzqcmmq1Jr/s1600/%2528c%2529+Robin+Drayton++The+southern+end+of+Llanover+village++CC+BY-SA+2.0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRoQMoh6zLR7ov3KekV-Vf_Z2BHV0A5DNvYxamIJ1FzddUMeD0oCUMteyRGdlMjOPoX9XS4NVXqi8RSM3mK_4z7emnFgAq6Z63byTgTaa3ecF7KutBS1iM4z6mBIwZZjvzMkqzqcmmq1Jr/s640/%2528c%2529+Robin+Drayton++The+southern+end+of+Llanover+village++CC+BY-SA+2.0.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">The Southern End of Llanover Village<br />
((c) Robin Drayton, for reuse under Creative Commons License at:<span style="font-size: 12.8px;"> </span><a href="https://www.geograph.org.uk/" style="font-size: 12.8px;">https://www.geograph.org.uk</a><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">)</span></td></tr>
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Farther up the slopes of the Blorenge, <a href="http://www.visitblaenavon.co.uk/en/Homepage.aspx">Blaenavon is now a World Heritage site</a> today commemorating the progress and human agony of the Industrial Revolution.<br />
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There is no doubt that the Bowens were a hard-working family. There is no doubt that Elder Albert E. Bowen built upon this legacy in the hard work and learning to make himself successful and in his teachings on self-reliance.<br />
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One wonders how the family would have fared had they remained in Wales or Scotland.Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07133789257179902461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943724228102202927.post-65775224468072581012018-05-27T08:00:00.000-07:002018-05-27T10:27:10.521-07:00Traveling the Seminoe Cutoff on the Overland Trail to South Pass<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
The Wyoming State Historical Preservation Office (WSHPO, pronounced "Wyoming Shipo") and historians with the LDS Church interpreting the Devil's Gate/Martin's Cove area on the Overland Trail in Wyoming, have established that it was <a href="http://wyoshpo.state.wy.us/trailsdemo/fortseminoe.htm">Charles (1812-1865), not his brother Basil LeJeunesse (1814-1846), who was known as "Seminoe"</a> and established the fort at Devil's Gate.</div>
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These brothers were amazing as most Mountain Men were. They all knew each other; Basil traveling with Kit Carson and John C. Fremont's mapping expeditions. Basil was killed by Modocs at Klamath Lake. Charles abandoned his post at Devil's Gate in 1855 due to troubles with the Cheyennes. Cheyennes killed Charles in 1865 at Clark's Fork, Yellowstone. His half-Shoshone sons took their vengence by killing Cheyenne Chief, High Backed Wolf.</div>
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Generally aware of the Handcart stories, I knew there was a ramshackle trading post at Devil's Gate that served as a shelter in the miserable winter of 1856-57 for those guarding the freight emptied from the wagons to carry some of the handcart pioneers of the Willie and Martin companies to Salt Lake City. In the past couple of years, I also became aware that the earlier and more successful handcart companies of that year took the Seminoe Cutoff. It was only two weeks ago that I managed to put the two together to understand it was this "Seminoe" guy who explored the cutoff that saved some trouble for my handcart ancestors and had established the fort/trading post at Devil's Gate.</div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5ASXsAc7ceGNjy6o4T6nCaVuyBllDu89Ag5xoY-34tqwP8OOqQesDok5_YqzBz-xkH8HhcEVIjL7vhl8qSCk8jukh7ORP3y_rTTpO5mbBlHHCjY5hf-GBoxaTKHHhnOtHM3byS9-eXjI6/s1600/IMG_8908.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1201" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5ASXsAc7ceGNjy6o4T6nCaVuyBllDu89Ag5xoY-34tqwP8OOqQesDok5_YqzBz-xkH8HhcEVIjL7vhl8qSCk8jukh7ORP3y_rTTpO5mbBlHHCjY5hf-GBoxaTKHHhnOtHM3byS9-eXjI6/s640/IMG_8908.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">A portion of the archeological site with the reconstructed fort right next to it. And Devil's Gate behind.</td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKSJN6pe2HJ9E8ND0UJRG0cjMEDRyD6uuRc0xH8WGugwUqRpB5bs3IbDGvVZFWvcGnElzUBE3gax_gSNTsi_6wMRciF6Qe659eRYz4kKM6URjK-dwuFLi16oPW5UqUgw_bcSBEhFiylYg6/s1600/IMG_8909.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKSJN6pe2HJ9E8ND0UJRG0cjMEDRyD6uuRc0xH8WGugwUqRpB5bs3IbDGvVZFWvcGnElzUBE3gax_gSNTsi_6wMRciF6Qe659eRYz4kKM6URjK-dwuFLi16oPW5UqUgw_bcSBEhFiylYg6/s640/IMG_8909.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Looking up the Sweetwater Valley from the original site of Seminoe's Fort. Martin's Cove is to the right.<br />
Split Rock can be seen in the far distance.</td></tr>
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<a name='more'></a>Wyoming State and University of Wyoming archeologists studied the original site of Seminoe's Fort in 2001. The LDS Church built a reconstructed fort as it was in 1856-57 when my ancestor, Elinor Jenkins Vaughan (1789-1861) stopped there for the mid-day meal with the Ellsworth Handcart Co. on September 8, 1856:<br />
<blockquote>
The camp rolled out at 40 past 9 A.M. and travelled 14 miles. crossed sweet Water by a good bridge [at Independence Rock]. the roads were in many parts rather rough[.] had dinner [lunch] beside an old trading post close by the Devil's gate[.] camped beside Sweet Water at 30 past 5 P.M. not far from company of apostates. (Andrew Galloway, Secretary for the Ellworth Co.)</blockquote>
<blockquote>
travelled 16 miles nooned at Devil's Gate[.] roads bad and the winds hight, Brother Birth very sick (Ann Ham Journal.)</blockquote>
<blockquote>
Came 14 mi. verry disagreeable winds and dust (John Oakley Journal.)</blockquote>
<blockquote>
11 miles. Had dinner [lunch] at Devil's Gate. (Archer Walters Journal.)</blockquote>
On September 11th, the Ellsworth Handcart Co. took "the left hand road" towards the Seminoe Cutoff. Seminoe's route left the Sweetwater for the high ground along the Continental Divide to South Pass. It was a bit short on water, but it avoided the last four crossings of the Sweetwater and the gruelling climb up Rocky Ridge. It generally saved a whole day as a true shortcut.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
The camp rolled out at 40 past 7 A.M. and travelled 19 miles[.] the first part of the journey the roads pretty good[.] No Water for 12 miles[.] you will then come to a good stream of Water and good feed[.] take the left hand road[.] Travelled 8 miles to a creek[.] [<i>This is probably the spring above Warm Springs just up from where the Seminoe Cutoff road currently meets Bison Basin Road</i>] a poor camping ground[.] middling feed[.] camped at 6 P.M. about 11 P.M. Bro [McArthur's] Company came up[.] they had travelled nearly night and day to overtake us. (Galloway.)</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
travelled 18 miles roads very bad[.] a very Poor Camp ground[.] was woke out of my sleep about 11 o'clock by a loud Hurrah and shouting and the band struck up[.] got up to see what it was and it turned out to be Brother Mac Arthurs company[.] went to the camp to see the sister Hardys[.] staid up and did my baking (Ham.)</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
20 mi[.] but came 2 mi' out of our way mistaking out way taking the left hand road for a cut off but it was a cut on. Camped on a small creek on the Genuine Cut off 6 mi[.] from the turn off to the left[.] 10 oclosk at night Bro. Danl McArthur & co. came to camp with us the 1st time since leaving Florence Mo. (Oakley.) </blockquote>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqXxpfRAQjlkU6ROcDcKRKPK5CsUs47wqSeMv2L1bOpfnn_z-yJMkajgE0Wh__tGBCb1u0ofZ5n7tzfgIgr1agewe3zMMagSHgHiI4Bgiv4sxn6Zo8sxsI1_C0Nse_JhpDbeq6CdRdB6lh/s1600/IMG_8897.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqXxpfRAQjlkU6ROcDcKRKPK5CsUs47wqSeMv2L1bOpfnn_z-yJMkajgE0Wh__tGBCb1u0ofZ5n7tzfgIgr1agewe3zMMagSHgHiI4Bgiv4sxn6Zo8sxsI1_C0Nse_JhpDbeq6CdRdB6lh/s640/IMG_8897.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">The Seminoe Cutoff today as it turns southwest from the Bison Basin Road not far from<br />
its junction with Highway 287 at Sweetwater Station. </td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFOTFo8GkMrkNXLS4lgJOkLtttMX-1RGNpGQ8xf8lTC49K3G4dde5XfUenPj241aYjQuW92uaGf_lASsJ5tv70BHdu7Wi9nXZ-C6DlBd4sY-U5sLuePUSJpFeWdobz0mYqZ0QKkpV33C2o/s1600/IMG_8885.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFOTFo8GkMrkNXLS4lgJOkLtttMX-1RGNpGQ8xf8lTC49K3G4dde5XfUenPj241aYjQuW92uaGf_lASsJ5tv70BHdu7Wi9nXZ-C6DlBd4sY-U5sLuePUSJpFeWdobz0mYqZ0QKkpV33C2o/s640/IMG_8885.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">The Seminoe Cutoff as it crosses Alkali Creek about five miles from the turn-off at Bison Basin Road.<br />
I am interpreting the Ellsworth journals as not mentioning this water crossing as I assume<br />
from its name that it was not good water and it may have been dry as late as September.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The next day, the Ellsworth Co. continued on the Seminoe Cutoff to camp at what I believe is Upper Mormon Spring.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
The camp rolled out at 45 past 7 A.M. and travelled 12 miles. the greatest part of the road very hilly & rough[.] a good spring of Water about 6 miles from where we started this moring[. Probably Immigrant Spring] camped at 45 past 1 P.M. good camping ground[.] feed pretty fair. plenty of spring Water about 200 yds from the road right side. (Galloway.)</blockquote>
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traveled 13 miles camped on a nice Peice of ground[.] Beautiful weather (Ham.)</blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Came 15 mi. on the cut off & camped by a good spring. to the left of us excellent feed[.] I whiped a man for stubbornly refusing to walk[.] this according to my presidents orders[.] The man's name is Green (Oakley.) [<i>Brother Green survived his trek experience and settled in Tooele, Utah as a miner and shoemaker</i>.] </blockquote>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjNVuGdMGvc7ye2H_07jjza4NPXlqVngQwdWXYq7xA85ZllEYwsiAI3xdJlQtodbsO32CNkgbsUg4hIKeXQHw7U4M3vDS7vgjmHGvzqURreUKpxkmVKRXOMbg0B23rHV6YrPuXQTfsYPdS/s1600/IMG_8868.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjNVuGdMGvc7ye2H_07jjza4NPXlqVngQwdWXYq7xA85ZllEYwsiAI3xdJlQtodbsO32CNkgbsUg4hIKeXQHw7U4M3vDS7vgjmHGvzqURreUKpxkmVKRXOMbg0B23rHV6YrPuXQTfsYPdS/s640/IMG_8868.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">My Grandson upon discovering Upper Mormon Spring. The Wind River Mountains are in the distance.<br />
We matched Ann Ham. The weather was beautiful! I wouldn't want to be here in the snow or rain.</td></tr>
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On the 13th of September, the Ellsworth and McArthur Companies crossed South Pass (<a href="http://www.keepapitchinin.org/2017/10/10/guest-post-sister-mary-mayo/">see account of Mary Taylor Mayo's death</a>). On the 14th, they met relief wagons from the Salt Lake Valley not far past their camp at Pacific Springs. This would have been along what is now Wyoming Highway 28 west of South Pass.<br />
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As a guide to the modern travelers wishing to traverse the Seminoe Cutoff, it is a wonderful adventure on a relatively unspoiled route. A four-wheel-drive vehicle is essential. We managed it in a Toyota Rav4 (although I would have preferred something maybe a little bigger.) The Oregon-California Trail Association (OCTA) has well-marked the eastern half with cement posts. There are also a few National Park Service (NPS) fiberglass posts. The western portion is marked as the "Seminoe Cutoff" where it meets the main Overland Trail just east of Twin Mounds.<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEssSW7nqAGXvn92G0Z9XZBk9dCkurtjXzQWDcrAwh6vu7XvZBk8fzTCbDWg07TgzzSM34S2O8AO2xItCgKXUlBuAzHI3xNUiqeV9g5u3zuiK4PSUO1qHgotS3LsnRhbTDJOX-uExuskeA/s1600/IMG_8768.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEssSW7nqAGXvn92G0Z9XZBk9dCkurtjXzQWDcrAwh6vu7XvZBk8fzTCbDWg07TgzzSM34S2O8AO2xItCgKXUlBuAzHI3xNUiqeV9g5u3zuiK4PSUO1qHgotS3LsnRhbTDJOX-uExuskeA/s640/IMG_8768.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Twin Mounds looking towards South Pass on the Overland Trail just west of the western end of the Seminoe Cutoff<br />
(From our expedition of three weeks ago.)</td></tr>
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However, the remainder of the western half is not marked at all by OCTA or NPS and the roads are very tricky.<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm_qz_F68F4SF08jNaZpm-0SiQlr8tdHdNR-ZDG5oodL70sO2Xk479wah3C7noBnlWtEbhWjvb2MoIO313-JMFi8XLIaveQQ3EDyEfKUUdQndsW_TszRUPTCoW92pgxi62jAWhNIATt7M0/s1600/IMG_8771.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm_qz_F68F4SF08jNaZpm-0SiQlr8tdHdNR-ZDG5oodL70sO2Xk479wah3C7noBnlWtEbhWjvb2MoIO313-JMFi8XLIaveQQ3EDyEfKUUdQndsW_TszRUPTCoW92pgxi62jAWhNIATt7M0/s640/IMG_8771.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">The ridge just south of Oregon Slough where there is a the multiplicity of two-track roads.</td></tr>
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I got lost up there three weeks ago exploring with a friend. This time, I carefully prepared pinpoints at every junction and spring of water on Google Maps based on Bureau of Land Management (BLM) maps of the route. My 12-year-old Grandson was able to read those on my T-Mobile smartphone as he expertly guided me from point to point.<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhicnHadGAPtkTPCtox2CAXTYdfGoPBCZhl3zfVJfXEqRhbAMOeRSJAlLVqbcPkYlVylYMdmghcxe7enQo6C9QlE4TZ6TGqHN_EqddL5_6njbqyu5VdEjtClJSb5hMHV4B5SCiqPhFm3aQw/s1600/Google+Pinpoints.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="678" data-original-width="1359" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhicnHadGAPtkTPCtox2CAXTYdfGoPBCZhl3zfVJfXEqRhbAMOeRSJAlLVqbcPkYlVylYMdmghcxe7enQo6C9QlE4TZ6TGqHN_EqddL5_6njbqyu5VdEjtClJSb5hMHV4B5SCiqPhFm3aQw/s640/Google+Pinpoints.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">A screen print of my Google Map with more than enough pinpoints for the weary pioneer.</td></tr>
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I would never try this in the rain or snow. Be careful out there!<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHUGqpGPxnoo2G3DcRIARQ8YJ9uhi6XKbwRcYvsAVaKNqgTTaeygcOXarRCMLNiFtEbr4sezJbD0MZrPtsOpGGt-AaYCn9iAzJfDCCA8iJX_b-beqSiQ-yasGj7AZiHZw_Gb0s1VM7zqpL/s1600/IMG_8847.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><br /></a>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHUGqpGPxnoo2G3DcRIARQ8YJ9uhi6XKbwRcYvsAVaKNqgTTaeygcOXarRCMLNiFtEbr4sezJbD0MZrPtsOpGGt-AaYCn9iAzJfDCCA8iJX_b-beqSiQ-yasGj7AZiHZw_Gb0s1VM7zqpL/s1600/IMG_8847.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHUGqpGPxnoo2G3DcRIARQ8YJ9uhi6XKbwRcYvsAVaKNqgTTaeygcOXarRCMLNiFtEbr4sezJbD0MZrPtsOpGGt-AaYCn9iAzJfDCCA8iJX_b-beqSiQ-yasGj7AZiHZw_Gb0s1VM7zqpL/s640/IMG_8847.JPG" width="640" /></a>Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07133789257179902461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943724228102202927.post-21063826918478177232018-05-10T21:01:00.002-07:002018-05-11T05:26:07.130-07:00Likely Vaughan House in CusopForget the Thirty Acres!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6eFmXlVXuHQ_43FCNvBtAowwWVqIzgHbpFYAKgZqiSUYKQ6X7rqwOxHwR5buWJkhbLB2SulQ2zEBJ2hrIWlxxb77HWICJQrXLm4vsFQDzPYDlddiyB6I_xhoxGI__aaeM7_0gt4uvpLc/s1600/Church+Cottage+geograph-3019704-by-Jaggery.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6eFmXlVXuHQ_43FCNvBtAowwWVqIzgHbpFYAKgZqiSUYKQ6X7rqwOxHwR5buWJkhbLB2SulQ2zEBJ2hrIWlxxb77HWICJQrXLm4vsFQDzPYDlddiyB6I_xhoxGI__aaeM7_0gt4uvpLc/s640/Church+Cottage+geograph-3019704-by-Jaggery.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Church Cottage, across the road and Cusop Green from St. Mary's Church, Cusop, Herefordshire</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVvcqzX6Hl-98FV7DGGq_oeyhJEu4SEq2p8HZnFVVJ9qdEAKU0B1rn_KVqRCREBPzgxA4hSQRORI7PwEUe-bR71pt1OApEh0R25T0G4LjmMSpaUhS-Ox-qPWHkW5R8CSLEzz7KqCXA9lA/s1600/Church+Cottage%252C+Cusop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="679" data-original-width="1104" height="392" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVvcqzX6Hl-98FV7DGGq_oeyhJEu4SEq2p8HZnFVVJ9qdEAKU0B1rn_KVqRCREBPzgxA4hSQRORI7PwEUe-bR71pt1OApEh0R25T0G4LjmMSpaUhS-Ox-qPWHkW5R8CSLEzz7KqCXA9lA/s640/Church+Cottage%252C+Cusop.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Google view from the other direction. St. Mary's Church is on the right. The church car park is right behind this view.</td></tr>
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An email came from my friends at the Cusop History Group. They had found some information on Cusop Green and shared it with me along with their conclusion that the house at the Green would have been the one now known as Church Cottage. This is the likely home of the Vaughans when they were in Herefordshire in the 1810s.<br />
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Here's the info direct from Cusop History Group:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmj5deBgQxJv-MXm8r5vZro_OnwTZmlItIemayaD-UkOXcO1_3NOVSBcVHGarw4s6nLHxfMFXb5lq2J2LLs7pv6QQz7bImfzWjKAF1LyCvhyl_o2dEyAqshDgsaKg7UgfCqyGe-ITkb7Q/s1600/CusopGreen+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1199" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmj5deBgQxJv-MXm8r5vZro_OnwTZmlItIemayaD-UkOXcO1_3NOVSBcVHGarw4s6nLHxfMFXb5lq2J2LLs7pv6QQz7bImfzWjKAF1LyCvhyl_o2dEyAqshDgsaKg7UgfCqyGe-ITkb7Q/s640/CusopGreen+%25281%2529.jpg" width="478" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnWEpsnWaO9TZ_IzGKcvT6kHYLhM5e2p0nOq-UFR-tJudmDJk6imM7gleazdJ3_FXmXP_L_3wwQUZzZXo8z_9gkAdz2WT9sj0bYbKIZF3wl-na_JhTimdTSVYGy1y-8iDifeJQZwiKEVs/s1600/CusopRoads.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1364" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnWEpsnWaO9TZ_IzGKcvT6kHYLhM5e2p0nOq-UFR-tJudmDJk6imM7gleazdJ3_FXmXP_L_3wwQUZzZXo8z_9gkAdz2WT9sj0bYbKIZF3wl-na_JhTimdTSVYGy1y-8iDifeJQZwiKEVs/s640/CusopRoads.jpg" width="544" /></a></div>
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Now I have to go back for my own photos and perhaps a visit with any current occupants of Church Cottage.</div>
Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07133789257179902461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943724228102202927.post-6367847321449127872018-04-15T09:25:00.000-07:002018-04-15T09:25:29.455-07:00Cymru, March 2018 XVII, The Final AdventureThis is the last post on my recent trip. I returned with a few good books for me to continue the intellectual adventures. One was a great survey of politics, social life, religion, and war (of course) in Medieval Wales:<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsW-Az9xdWB-e1WONs1V7uNVevX7WS18hSqoKx4wIu2gOiMqe0ewX1Ogh4N2jruRpMdXUzGDcqluIDH4RrDTywRn9ykFo2o6fGLrtmuPUXFykCnAGPt6zH6HWIutkgPJ7XfMMIdjawjWtR/s1600/20180415_065741.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1042" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsW-Az9xdWB-e1WONs1V7uNVevX7WS18hSqoKx4wIu2gOiMqe0ewX1Ogh4N2jruRpMdXUzGDcqluIDH4RrDTywRn9ykFo2o6fGLrtmuPUXFykCnAGPt6zH6HWIutkgPJ7XfMMIdjawjWtR/s640/20180415_065741.jpg" width="416" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">A good read!</td></tr>
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Reading along, I came across a person named Rhys Gryg. I said to myself, "I know that guy!" Well, at least I discovered his castle. And I'm getting ahead of myself in this story.<br />
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My old college professor and again my mentor for new adventures in historical travel sent me an email while I was still in Wales. He wanted help in finding a location of an ancestral farm of one of the individuals signed up for our Wales/Scotland tour coming up in August. It was in Carmarthenshire.</div>
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Great! I hadn't yet been to Carmarthen, the city of Merlin ("Caer Merddyn" in Welsh meaning "Merlin's Fort or Castle") It would be easy to swing by the town after I found the farm.</div>
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And I did find it way up on the highlands above Carmarthen. </div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoCObmX4oTfCdOxyp6jQ9sJitF0K__oaYDTaf0I2_Tn8YW0SXRO0FCz2bnhG5yJvqxM7_Mr0IgWpqvomukJl2CHedUUN1qCz7-ZW5hgm822mSmhJLnJhY7FeWKhzsCdpPwCkcPOarg9ruZ/s1600/IMG_8441.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoCObmX4oTfCdOxyp6jQ9sJitF0K__oaYDTaf0I2_Tn8YW0SXRO0FCz2bnhG5yJvqxM7_Mr0IgWpqvomukJl2CHedUUN1qCz7-ZW5hgm822mSmhJLnJhY7FeWKhzsCdpPwCkcPOarg9ruZ/s640/IMG_8441.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">My question is: How did Mormon Missionaries ever find this place in the 1840s?</td></tr>
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<tr><td><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-imtdtoDIPSDQ8jkRgr_NbQjBgxEu_VexuyS316IUjpx7f2afGrFTGfRXxvgoVvxdUbr9xBEpjlNtobtkzYI23YG1mj2eX837zXEPpUZmUKX7RAwEBII59PdSN9Y0b6CWmfZJsnsPWsR7/s640/IMG_8449.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="640" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">The high, farm lands of Carmarthenshire</td></tr>
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Having fulfilled that little quest, I headed into Carmarthen Town, a place I hadn't yet visited. </div>
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It was busy on Saturday as shoppers come in from the surrounding area. I heard some Cymraeg spoken on the streets. And I came across a monument to the old drovers of Wales.</div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCdx3M_eF26StjLY3M4JnooTo9ApzMFIQzOxKqv9OX3_NNgzjTghY_Xe-h4IbsWJCr8zGiHUytah5lNUFIusPYLTG-bUEi_wBypprRlJGrui22jwfqPTK5p4BCa4j96kvq4_ZlEj7TdI7o/s1600/IMG_8453.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCdx3M_eF26StjLY3M4JnooTo9ApzMFIQzOxKqv9OX3_NNgzjTghY_Xe-h4IbsWJCr8zGiHUytah5lNUFIusPYLTG-bUEi_wBypprRlJGrui22jwfqPTK5p4BCa4j96kvq4_ZlEj7TdI7o/s640/IMG_8453.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">It was as if they had just stopped for pizza on their long walk to the big city markets.</td></tr>
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I found Nott Square and, of course, the Castle.<br /><br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR4vqNlJSvxRHugjB2MDhMfgYFVSpimh2k1ARBxvb-WfmtZisglIuA9K-YlflkNTsWiLOTEoT_pOTlx9kdOfIi5_-3RxBvQh78uP8cWq6umwsgkO5FycgF51cfN0eI11ZQE2hZbPe4Uh0x/s1600/IMG_8458.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1186" data-original-width="1600" height="474" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR4vqNlJSvxRHugjB2MDhMfgYFVSpimh2k1ARBxvb-WfmtZisglIuA9K-YlflkNTsWiLOTEoT_pOTlx9kdOfIi5_-3RxBvQh78uP8cWq6umwsgkO5FycgF51cfN0eI11ZQE2hZbPe4Uh0x/s640/IMG_8458.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Formerly Upper Market Street and a center of medieval Carmarthen. Now named for General Nott, hero of the Afghan War.<br />The one in the 1840s after the massacre of the British refugees from Kabul. (When will we ever learn?)</td></tr>
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Carmarthen Castle is well situated on a rise above the River Tywi (or Towy).</div>
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Then up through the town, I found St. Peter's Church. It was founded, likely on an ancient Celtic Church, by William the Conqueror as Carmarthen became a Royal Norman stronghold.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">St. Peter's, Carmarthen</td></tr>
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And there are links as far back as the Romans as evidenced by this Roman altar in the entrance porch of the church.</div>
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Not finding much evidence of Merlin (you can find more at Glasbury, Tintagel, or Disneyland) I headed off back to Talgarth along the Tywi for a distance until I crossed along the northern edge of the Brecon Beacons National Park.<br />
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And just down the Tywi, I noticed off to my right a hill with a castle ruin on top!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Whoa! I pulled over and took this pic.</td></tr>
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Taking a right on the next farm lane, I wound my way around until I came to the hill (there was a more direct route out).<br />
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The interpretive signs identified this as Dryswlyn, a castle of Rhys Gryg, son of Lord Rhys ruler of the southern kingdom of Deheubarth! Lord Rhys was one a rare, Welsh ruler who was able to divide up his kingdom among his sons with peaceful success. He established Llyswen (White Court) on the Wye (back <a href="http://www.moderatebutpassionate.com/2018/03/possible-discoveries-roger-vaughan-1734.html">in our ancestral lands</a>) where his sons could meet to resolve their differences. The peace, sadly, only survived in the family as that blankety-blank Edward I besieged and destroyed Dryswlyn Castle which was a gatekeeper on way to Carmarthen.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">The Tywi River looking towards Carmarthen up where the hills come together.</td></tr>
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And what a magnificent castle ruin!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">From the bridge over the Tywi</td></tr>
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So glad I found you, Rhys Gryg!</div>
Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07133789257179902461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943724228102202927.post-27416687527730628982018-04-11T16:11:00.001-07:002023-08-03T10:31:38.141-07:00Cymru, March 2018 XVI, We're Still Here!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
It rained and I didn't care. There was more to see and do, especially the Good Friday "fireside" at the Merthyr Stake Center. Until that evening, I was off schedule with much to do.</div>
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Starting at the Valley of the Rhiangoll, or Cwmdu, just above Tretower, I needed to stop and photograph the standing stone. There is one in the middle of that valley that I could never see because it forms part of a hedgerow and is covered in greenery during the summer. I thought I had seen it as I drove by on the narrow highway up that valley. At Tretower they told me I should just stop at a farm gate and walk along the highway to take photos.<br />
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It actually worked. Even on that narrow highway, the fast drivers slow down for pedestrians. There isn't much shoulder to walk on, less to park on, but I did find a farm gate and parked only halfway in a ditch. And I got it!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqG_075W8Wc-PuqkdepY9fhtKUZLycjxCl-FyTiwb_X03Q10IHToo7CmiUYSk_PeYP5Z1D4Tu_MbcT45voCeFk87U2LM7whS8UGJ_h-0_lxazcCadiFl-mQZj-vlIXbhKjXJHEjAeRax8/s1600/IMG_8338.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqG_075W8Wc-PuqkdepY9fhtKUZLycjxCl-FyTiwb_X03Q10IHToo7CmiUYSk_PeYP5Z1D4Tu_MbcT45voCeFk87U2LM7whS8UGJ_h-0_lxazcCadiFl-mQZj-vlIXbhKjXJHEjAeRax8/s640/IMG_8338.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Well over two meters, it is higher and produces that bump in the hedgerow to look for.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">The stone's relative position in the valley. Bwlch in the background. Remember barn on the right.</td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHfvznVDH5LZHJIMSavDorEyA3CbEzJk7U-MOTFPz1WbUQ05Fj-kIA93vpV34-UXC9xu12ez1A29CF65hMuHS00GReiaYo89ODeY6LNXNGAUYIjR3l-3RmHRRvmgB-bzq8aDGC6fj4Vh8/s1600/IMG_8342.JPG"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHfvznVDH5LZHJIMSavDorEyA3CbEzJk7U-MOTFPz1WbUQ05Fj-kIA93vpV34-UXC9xu12ez1A29CF65hMuHS00GReiaYo89ODeY6LNXNGAUYIjR3l-3RmHRRvmgB-bzq8aDGC6fj4Vh8/s640/IMG_8342.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
Rhosier Hen, the farther of Rhosier Fychan (Roger Vaughan) of Bredwardine, came from his family lands near Cwmdu in the 14th Century. That means his people originated in this area. Many waves of Celtic and pre-Celtic people have been through here since the ancient ones put up the stones, but is there the chance that the new people mingled with descendants of the stone people?<br />
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If I had found a farmer, I would have asked to walk the field to touch it. I think there's a connection. My bones spring from the mud and the stones in these valleys.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grave of Henry Vaughan, Silurist (1622-1795), Llansantffraid, Old Brecknockshire</td></tr>
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Oh, it was muddy that day. But pleasant as I sat under the Yew and read aloud the <a href="http://www.moderatebutpassionate.com/2012/04/happy-easter.html">Easter poems</a> and <a href="http://www.moderatebutpassionate.com/2015/01/tombs-filled-with-stars.html#more">others</a> to my distant cousin, Henry Vaughan.<br />
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There was a Vaughan walk nearby in honor of Cousin Henry.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Usk below Llansantffraid at Talybont.</td></tr>
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But I couldn't find it at the crossing of the Usk. I drove on towards the village of Talybont and found it on the Canal path!</div>
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And on the canal at Talybont is the most amazing drawbridge which I hope to see in action some day. </div>
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A guy in a canoe told me that if you have a boat that is licensed for the canal, then you get a key that will allow you to raise the bridge. But you can't do it during the hour before and after school when in session. I want to push that button!<br />
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There was still another churchyard that I needed to visit. It was just down the Usk and past Abergavenny. As I climbed the narrow farm roads towards Tregare (Tregaer) the view of Raglan Castle off to my right surprised me!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZLdH2y6OVZHgGkzE_t22sO9OCYVjcmX51f9TJ45qaj_h6H2cWFr5F7tNhb3ys4sqCRzPd2YHLol2zvyDlhltn9rDD4zTvVoMfagf-7L7jYfwI123iWhS3qI4_Oe2EaUL6PAOTEbae1Io/s1600/IMG_8379.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZLdH2y6OVZHgGkzE_t22sO9OCYVjcmX51f9TJ45qaj_h6H2cWFr5F7tNhb3ys4sqCRzPd2YHLol2zvyDlhltn9rDD4zTvVoMfagf-7L7jYfwI123iWhS3qI4_Oe2EaUL6PAOTEbae1Io/s640/IMG_8379.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Whoa! Raglan Castle across the fields.</td></tr>
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Tregare has a nice little church and a graveyard full of Morgans that need to be checked out.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">St. Mary's, Tregaer, Monmouthshire. The rain was beating down the daffodils.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the many Morgans at St. Mary's, Tregaer.</td></tr>
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As I was past Raglan, close to White Castle, I said to myself, "Hey! There are two more castles around White Castle that I haven't seen!" Known as the Three Castles, and built in the early days of the Norman attempts to pacify Wales (late 11th Century), I was closest to Skenfrith and headed that way guided by the Google lady. It was worth it!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The round keep at Skenfrith (Ynysgynwraidd). We love the round keeps!</td></tr>
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The coolest part of Skenfrith was this little doorway down below the wall. What was out there?<br /><br />
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A river! "Whoa!" I said to myself, "That must be the Monnow!" Knowing that I was somewhat north of Monmouth and didn't know of any other big rivers coming out of the Black Mountains. And myself checked and told me I was right! (I'd been in Wales alone for a while now.)<br />
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What continues to amaze is the rural, seemingly unspoiled nature of much of Wales. And when you are alone at a castle in the rain, you can make amazing discoveries as if you were the first one there.<br />
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Except you weren't because in the past many people, my people, were here. And in many capacities as yet unidentified. There were a few of the gentry, even royalty, on my lines and certainly some illegitimate peasants. Farmers, tailors, puddlers (iron workers), drovers, labourers, all combine to give the past and make me what I am.<br />
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And I still had one more castle in the rain to go.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grosmont, Monmouthshire. I KNOW!</td></tr>
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Just a little tip. Skenfrith has great and easy parking. Grosmont is strangely hard to find and there's very little parking in a tiny village. As the sign says up at "Castle Prospect," "Enter the Castle across from the store." OK. And on a rainy day, it's not hard to park on the street.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grosmont moat still obvious.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hills from Grosmont</td></tr>
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This is supposed to be the open lands south of the Black Mountains. These small, border castles between the Black Mountains and the larger fortifications and settlements at Chepstow on the lower Wye and Newport on the Usk, helped keep the Welsh in check. But they were never fully conquered.<br />
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The Welsh are still here and the castles are in ruins.<br />
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I hastened north and a little west to Merthyr Tydfil for the Good Friday music program. Knowing I would be wet and muddy, I had a change of clothes and shoes. I forgot socks so I had purchased some at Waitrose in Llanfoist on the way down from Talybont. Arriving in Merthyr, I stopped at the fancy strip mall just above the LDS Chapel. I even went into a drug store to buy some wet wipes to clear the mud from my toes. The windows in my Fiat 500 were fogged up enough I could change even if a bit cramped.<br />
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The Merthyr chapel was near full. They handed out a song sheet with some in Cymraeg that I expected we were all going to sing. In changing my clothes I had left my reading glasses in the car so I rain out in the rain to get them.<br />
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The Stake President opened the meeting in Cymraeg. It was such a shock and I got most of it. He then restated in English. We sang. We had tears. The mixed-culture choir from the Cardiff Stake, with some songs in Cymraeg, was great! (As Leanne Wood, Plaid Cymru Party Leader says, anyone can be Welsh if you want to be.) And the Dowlais Mens Choir was fantastic!<br />
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Among many others, they sang this song:<br />
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Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07133789257179902461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943724228102202927.post-77830474115730201522018-04-10T06:21:00.001-07:002018-04-10T06:21:59.889-07:00Cymru, March 2018 XV, Hereford WeepsEven if I was in Herefordshire for the day, I was still staying in Wales so it counts. And I found wonderful things in <a href="http://www.moderatebutpassionate.com/2018/03/harc-research-results-from-hereford.html">Hereford Archives and Records Centre (HARC)</a>!<br />
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After exhausting my known sources, I sat on the banks of the Wye and had a late picnic lunch. This was the view:<br />
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Then I walked past and back over the old bridge<br />
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I wanted to see the Mappa Mundi and chained library. But they were closed as there was to be a funeral service.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Cleric lighting candles</td></tr>
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It was not a great disappointment, as I was able to see the Weeping Window of poppies that has been traveling through Britain to commemorate the hundredth anniversary of World War I.<br />
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The skies were weeping too, so I sought shelter in the Black and White House Museum.<br />
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It is a faithfully restored home of the Civil War Era (Mid-1600s). They had cannonballs that had been found in house remodels from when a Scottish Army allied with Parliament besieged the Royalists in Hereford (1645).<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYW0ljVb2CRx10ZQTgfDUrtF05RAy5DAJHDAY6UbDXegNI5m6HETJ2b1wkPy6rOydYRxUNIPA2UtoL3eGnXdnq8ovRxmJEYzZO36U-FSqgUAI1pDN8yuePdH0A9kBbCYVDxVpkPpwkuQjU/s1600/IMG_8244.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYW0ljVb2CRx10ZQTgfDUrtF05RAy5DAJHDAY6UbDXegNI5m6HETJ2b1wkPy6rOydYRxUNIPA2UtoL3eGnXdnq8ovRxmJEYzZO36U-FSqgUAI1pDN8yuePdH0A9kBbCYVDxVpkPpwkuQjU/s640/IMG_8244.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">War is heck and Civil Wars are heckier.</td></tr>
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The house representing a middle-class businessman of the Cathedral City was beautifully restored.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0aH3IVeu5-Wfg0aGm1Wo8xGDiT6hCpCxs6E_v-9OfLVPGrfQo0ZhjPg9vsJaxIa2quvtyqlBbOU3Q8INMfZRtWph0MNH1d8Xt4Iv19dwA5jF9zSzycKK5TYefHa87B-Ui4OCcz4RUgojX/s1600/IMG_8267.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0aH3IVeu5-Wfg0aGm1Wo8xGDiT6hCpCxs6E_v-9OfLVPGrfQo0ZhjPg9vsJaxIa2quvtyqlBbOU3Q8INMfZRtWph0MNH1d8Xt4Iv19dwA5jF9zSzycKK5TYefHa87B-Ui4OCcz4RUgojX/s640/IMG_8267.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">The Master's Bed with trundle and those weird bed sticks to beat down the mattress and likely the servants and family, too.</td></tr>
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And I was reminded why I need to retire.<br />
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Not able to see the Mappa Mundi, I headed out for adventures in the rain taking the long way home.</div>
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I found Sollershope, the birthplace of <a href="http://www.keepapitchinin.org/2017/10/10/guest-post-sister-mary-mayo/">Sister Mary Taylor Mayo</a>, who died on South Pass when Elinor Vaughan went on with Ellsworth's Handcart Company (1856).<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxFJ2NMwuicXrJLXk0zXfcB0hQyvMuaudRUZqZyrmw1wngSYTKUTpzMj-L5BHgHbfQXP1bz0GHZKG7oRmlQZ-mK5kz0TP14J6lL40Bn0XI6jcJ8wzyHZavcxHX5ggx-hCNkhfYkKrCtfRb/s1600/IMG_8295.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxFJ2NMwuicXrJLXk0zXfcB0hQyvMuaudRUZqZyrmw1wngSYTKUTpzMj-L5BHgHbfQXP1bz0GHZKG7oRmlQZ-mK5kz0TP14J6lL40Bn0XI6jcJ8wzyHZavcxHX5ggx-hCNkhfYkKrCtfRb/s640/IMG_8295.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">St. Michael's, Sollers Hope, Herefordshire</td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcXEwNq38cnp57-FeYUBxxnAPDPx40RqbmSwKt6KghCZF3_6aHvRT-IZqrMHpjhqv9qLnj9QS56ah_A8E56Y3NpOr3qe2PIctBzA8YjhwwxNtfLlkxYOs2DW1c_-5tvkCWApVRi9CXqTEH/s1600/IMG_8298.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcXEwNq38cnp57-FeYUBxxnAPDPx40RqbmSwKt6KghCZF3_6aHvRT-IZqrMHpjhqv9qLnj9QS56ah_A8E56Y3NpOr3qe2PIctBzA8YjhwwxNtfLlkxYOs2DW1c_-5tvkCWApVRi9CXqTEH/s640/IMG_8298.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">The cross is 15th Century, restored by WWI Vets as their War Memorial.</td></tr>
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On the way back to Wales, pretty close to the border on the Radnorshire side of the Wye, I visited Brilley where our Jenkins family may have originated.<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTUjnFrHPHYSC1Pal8zygPUq4Nx7ytJOBb-OjWZp0AjfBsrK21cZgeXm__p4Dh3mWj4Fbih0nFiMZXaRkMtZiX47kx8dBMxioGjLryIg87j_8vpD6-g0nKtCITyvhfEfLzXi4lHgMORDMY/s1600/IMG_8307.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTUjnFrHPHYSC1Pal8zygPUq4Nx7ytJOBb-OjWZp0AjfBsrK21cZgeXm__p4Dh3mWj4Fbih0nFiMZXaRkMtZiX47kx8dBMxioGjLryIg87j_8vpD6-g0nKtCITyvhfEfLzXi4lHgMORDMY/s640/IMG_8307.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">St. Mary's, Brilley, Herefordshire</td></tr>
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Brilley is another farming parish with no clear center except for the church.<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimjNO1Dxv5L18aBY23qXhc3BHogCEY7Kpxp_F9sf1XuED_j6p8L62oV8raBxr3iUf-QleCvbAJ2nzBgouEOklgvDfTzYv4AmTqWpS1jgGp_i6jJPw6mRoodETv3yQPwQjkH7TEIgL9i3-q/s1600/IMG_8303.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimjNO1Dxv5L18aBY23qXhc3BHogCEY7Kpxp_F9sf1XuED_j6p8L62oV8raBxr3iUf-QleCvbAJ2nzBgouEOklgvDfTzYv4AmTqWpS1jgGp_i6jJPw6mRoodETv3yQPwQjkH7TEIgL9i3-q/s640/IMG_8303.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Plenty of daffodils in the churchyard at St. Mary's, Brilley.</td></tr>
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And there were great views across the Wye Valley to the Black Mountains above Hay.<br />
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We almost caught some rainbows on the way back to Talgarth.</div>
Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07133789257179902461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943724228102202927.post-39657384677479712752018-04-09T05:39:00.001-07:002018-04-09T05:39:00.426-07:00Cymru, March 2018 XIV, Brecon Midst the BeaconsIt rained hard that morning. As I still had a spot reserved at Powys Archives. After taking some pictures of where I thought my<a href="http://www.moderatebutpassionate.com/2018/03/possible-discoveries-roger-vaughan-1734.html"> ancestor's flax fields</a> might have been, I went back to check the indices and browse through the books on the shelves. Not having had enough time to digest what I had already found, I headed off to Brecon.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Pen y Fan, I believe, the highest peak in the Brecon Beacons.</td></tr>
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Brecon is the old county town and I hadn't yet been and I needed to go. Unfortunately, the Brecon Museum is undergoing extensive renovations and is not open at present. I was still able to get a feel for the medieval city.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Aberhonddu</td></tr>
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<a name='more'></a>The name of Brecon in Cymraeg is Aberhonddu, meaning the mouth of the Honddu River [this black river] as it rather dramatically flows into the Usk. The castle is in private ownership so you have to stay at their hotel to get in.<br />
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The Cathedral, however, is wide open.</div>
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The Cathedral has this ancient baptistry that no one can quite explain.</div>
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And I remembered there was someone there I had to meet.</div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnOUzKphl04qUBcUg2XJuAp2a4kumqIQLwPcK7nA8CkhIXKTbNP2b9twlwA8oUOkyq3gbVuZh2gse1HMI7qOaF_hXaQPLiqH0D72VVWtkn9ECzwZ3Y0eXfXzh4T7Bxaj3aTqIQ3jytkl8Q/s1600/IMG_8076.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnOUzKphl04qUBcUg2XJuAp2a4kumqIQLwPcK7nA8CkhIXKTbNP2b9twlwA8oUOkyq3gbVuZh2gse1HMI7qOaF_hXaQPLiqH0D72VVWtkn9ECzwZ3Y0eXfXzh4T7Bxaj3aTqIQ3jytkl8Q/s640/IMG_8076.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">A woman of the Gam Family</td></tr>
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She is all that remains of what was a lavish, perhaps garish, monument to the Family of Dafydd ap Llewelyn (Davey Gam), famous for defending to the death King Henry V on the field at Agincourt and Grandsire of the Vaughan Family. This wooden effigy is all that was salvaged from the destruction wrought by Cromwell's Puritans. It is thought that she could even be Anne Vaughan, daughter of Roger Vaughan of Tretower, who married into the Morgans of Tredegar House.</div>
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Davey Gam also poses that historical problem that he was his own man and loyal to Henry IV and V, even against Owain Glyndwr with whom Gam had some kind of personal feud (well, they had imprisoned each other at various times.) Gam's sons switched to the Yorkist Edward IV. And the Vaughans wisely laid low when Richard III seized the crown and the Earl of Richmond, Lancastrian Henry VII won the day at Bosworth, married Elizabeth of York (Edward IV's daughter), and united the two warring houses to establish the Tudor Dynasty.</div>
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The other historical draw to Brecon is the must-see Museum of the Royal Welsh Borderers. It is a musty and sobering reminder of past "glories" of Empire. And I also wanted to find out where the Brecon Barracks were in the time of the Risings of Merthyr in 1831 and Newport in '39.</div>
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It's hard to miss.</div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8mk6YP_J26rS0kxY8OEWy0hierwNIWS567-zOhPCrjI53HsUQtI12Yj2YEnBHo7ItsMdGn3JMpVQCUyQEQr_0-DGxlBWTlRoTjWt14rF2-rZMDKmo_5ToWPDxFEpHPmctTHUbV502fKZo/s1600/IMG_8090.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8mk6YP_J26rS0kxY8OEWy0hierwNIWS567-zOhPCrjI53HsUQtI12Yj2YEnBHo7ItsMdGn3JMpVQCUyQEQr_0-DGxlBWTlRoTjWt14rF2-rZMDKmo_5ToWPDxFEpHPmctTHUbV502fKZo/s640/IMG_8090.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">And I snagged some great parking, too!</td></tr>
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The Royal Welsh held off thousands of Zulu Warriors at a field hospital called "Rourke's Drift." Michael Caine was in the movie and I'm not sure if it's historically accurate that they sang "Men of Harlech." I'm pretty sure the Zulu were not "Saxon foemen."</div>
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The Royal Welsh did help defeat the nazis and they had a captured swastika flag in there. I will not share that here as the only proper place for them is in a museum evidencing their total defeat. [well, not yet total. We have work to do.]</div>
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Wandering out to see if I could determine where the original Brecon Barracks had been, I had to back away from the modern barracks and regimental grounds with its security warnings. Turning back, I realized, I'd been there all the time.</div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR_c-459s_b61uJ_BgGiXYAtfj5rOJtemfIzwUeINJp0SN6xlwna4LQ9VQDg0doNfRpyI12J67Kk9zzNpDYBUItLBbx9Fw6bmobBcQEa04c7cGt_AM7jnIVYh-DLJlQntHl0B3M9b2hTfT/s1600/IMG_8125.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR_c-459s_b61uJ_BgGiXYAtfj5rOJtemfIzwUeINJp0SN6xlwna4LQ9VQDg0doNfRpyI12J67Kk9zzNpDYBUItLBbx9Fw6bmobBcQEa04c7cGt_AM7jnIVYh-DLJlQntHl0B3M9b2hTfT/s640/IMG_8125.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Yep. The museum is the place from which imperial forces rushed out to crush workers' risings in the Valleys.</td></tr>
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Giving me added jitters, I had to go back to the Wye. I visited Cusop with the sun out.</div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2Vm7dKH5mkgDz5wNcWqA67UjWCr74KgHrwqr4928j4CGH-_cLhm55RqBvUQvzc5qdNev_7Wsr8c6YyQS2K3jSezCttjKGeQ-jOllMqm9Tsys2i_T_RosUvEQHRjKhRwdoVYt6bOdXrQBn/s1600/IMG_8139.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2Vm7dKH5mkgDz5wNcWqA67UjWCr74KgHrwqr4928j4CGH-_cLhm55RqBvUQvzc5qdNev_7Wsr8c6YyQS2K3jSezCttjKGeQ-jOllMqm9Tsys2i_T_RosUvEQHRjKhRwdoVYt6bOdXrQBn/s640/IMG_8139.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">One of Cusop's ancient Yews</td></tr>
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And St. Peter's Glasbury, with the sun out.</div>
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And then, not realizing until after further analysis, I went and cast a shadow near the spot where Bryn Cottage had been, where my Vaughans possibly lived in the 1780s.</div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEZYVR79WGoXhZwmP7-Uj_s_A9ZAtN2RGo8V2HgEoOUwWVP6x-iSR2fiMJFwC5t3vc7yJKighZqhN4uvw4utkS5dxmZO7EmYn80lYrcMvDYUg-npjc8dCrMgmshZ9yXy1oau3jrrvedJYw/s1600/IMG_8155.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEZYVR79WGoXhZwmP7-Uj_s_A9ZAtN2RGo8V2HgEoOUwWVP6x-iSR2fiMJFwC5t3vc7yJKighZqhN4uvw4utkS5dxmZO7EmYn80lYrcMvDYUg-npjc8dCrMgmshZ9yXy1oau3jrrvedJYw/s640/IMG_8155.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">The barn is Boxbush between Pipton Hill and the Wye River.</td></tr>
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Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07133789257179902461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943724228102202927.post-12820026238934221832018-04-08T10:40:00.000-07:002018-04-08T10:40:36.309-07:00Cymru, March 2018 Xiii, Powys Records Office and Our Last Prince<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
The early walk around Talgarth gave me a morning rainbow which is always a good sign.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgELeepvEsU4kiynjJigRIfueU26b17_jAmlIek-_JYfUl3ivIBO8zbIvIRVWTme7qGlHZTGh4LGpG_kAsYaGhVldUn_ybmeqI4dXs16q772KtqOK1U6e-AJ345y0Aq0wwSmEXZ6LqktG1M/s1600/IMG_7948.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1201" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgELeepvEsU4kiynjJigRIfueU26b17_jAmlIek-_JYfUl3ivIBO8zbIvIRVWTme7qGlHZTGh4LGpG_kAsYaGhVldUn_ybmeqI4dXs16q772KtqOK1U6e-AJ345y0Aq0wwSmEXZ6LqktG1M/s640/IMG_7948.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Then it was off to Llandrindod Wells, Wales (they really need to work on some of these names) for Powys Records Office!<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ0q-EtkyJ2KP8WERMOzEDmVRIYSDpRIE9C2cqixVcpoYgRDTGKIMcaMijxj8xWTcVz754M3RL7sa7g_Lh81NbezoXFQvAo6ffS4QPbmb8KPKqt-JLaOOAS_r6Mdha3T7iepAACUqgs3Yk/s1600/IMG_7955.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1175" data-original-width="1600" height="470" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ0q-EtkyJ2KP8WERMOzEDmVRIYSDpRIE9C2cqixVcpoYgRDTGKIMcaMijxj8xWTcVz754M3RL7sa7g_Lh81NbezoXFQvAo6ffS4QPbmb8KPKqt-JLaOOAS_r6Mdha3T7iepAACUqgs3Yk/s640/IMG_7955.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">A new facility since my last visit.</td></tr>
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They were waiting for me and were so very kind and helpful. And as I blogged <a href="https://johnelinorvaughan.blogspot.com/2018/03/possible-discoveries-of-roger-vaughan.html">here</a> and <a href="https://johnelinorvaughan.blogspot.com/2018/04/they-possibly-lived-at-bryn.html">here</a>, I found what I came for. There's more to do now, of course, which will necessitate a return. Such is the nature of research.<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAO9hiSfT3RGPwx_KiWmaF-rlIG-LYkkiDpkHCqm5LDXOCxUWtiGbVyNIDhKsNXYrQLe8JN38rtbRGp1fIQANPvLAkOgeBRuQOmVAbGtyA9kcy8Lvd0b44HY4SNezF2EvlLzA5I7iYCSiW/s1600/IMG_7951.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAO9hiSfT3RGPwx_KiWmaF-rlIG-LYkkiDpkHCqm5LDXOCxUWtiGbVyNIDhKsNXYrQLe8JN38rtbRGp1fIQANPvLAkOgeBRuQOmVAbGtyA9kcy8Lvd0b44HY4SNezF2EvlLzA5I7iYCSiW/s640/IMG_7951.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Unrolling the Quarter Session Rolls. What joy!</td></tr>
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Having paid for my photography fee, I made use of it to get original copies of what I already had by email from our researcher.<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9iDqhRU1lEBuVdPTs85t1NpjKEJ13swj23eapudXSsiL4cMws1302avQ0_CtOlmy72MHnT4hYEravndcHW1UKqtpjqkEpK1OmUdORzVdHhtwClz7mMx6Hc_yFWE1w_BOehQAWNd-Tlwnv/s1600/IMG_7952+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="429" data-original-width="1600" height="170" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9iDqhRU1lEBuVdPTs85t1NpjKEJ13swj23eapudXSsiL4cMws1302avQ0_CtOlmy72MHnT4hYEravndcHW1UKqtpjqkEpK1OmUdORzVdHhtwClz7mMx6Hc_yFWE1w_BOehQAWNd-Tlwnv/s640/IMG_7952+%25282%2529.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">June 1789. If only they had named the tailor!!</td></tr>
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After the Records Office closed, I went in search of the monument to our last Prince Llewellyn, slain in 1282 by the blackguards of Edward I.<br />
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The Google lady led me right to the middle of the little village of Cilmeri. It is farmland now, but in those days, it was wooded. And mystery still surrounds the death. Was he out on a lark without sufficient guard? Was he lured into a trap? Was he on a diplomatic mission in an attempt to end the war his brother, Dafydd, had inadvisedly started?<br />
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The monument is in the style of an ancient monolith.<br />
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And, of course, there are daffodils for our Last Prince.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ7xHgiX3OMgpcdw1BpwjJhF74RE9Fb2DqDetGmZsEcYcoEnizKHxf96R6LFsvVwXA33ujQfEOkyuNgveCgf8yp61DY3xQ63JDSvXH6iAHl8aP2Xsk4yUMmjGKc7_JDUio3BHmoMsQGE9G/s1600/IMG_7988.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ7xHgiX3OMgpcdw1BpwjJhF74RE9Fb2DqDetGmZsEcYcoEnizKHxf96R6LFsvVwXA33ujQfEOkyuNgveCgf8yp61DY3xQ63JDSvXH6iAHl8aP2Xsk4yUMmjGKc7_JDUio3BHmoMsQGE9G/s640/IMG_7988.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Then, the visit took a disturbing turn to the macabre.<br />
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Seeing a sign to a well and a gurgling brook, I headed off the hill to this:<br />
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<br /><br />Would I lift the lid? Oh, yeah!<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJW0yWB8COb6zMbwbr-dAwrSPjIpkg7O-NSKoVsPD4QtE5wwxum_JX8wq1ULBZcWyBm7hRxB5HtH3dohORtJcKMkKPbm5j2Yj24M8MySioIqhedBQD6P_zlK3JjCIOeafot1hitZRFFDBO/s1600/IMG_7996.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJW0yWB8COb6zMbwbr-dAwrSPjIpkg7O-NSKoVsPD4QtE5wwxum_JX8wq1ULBZcWyBm7hRxB5HtH3dohORtJcKMkKPbm5j2Yj24M8MySioIqhedBQD6P_zlK3JjCIOeafot1hitZRFFDBO/s640/IMG_7996.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">The stylized grill apparently protects it from use as a laver for any other severed heads or even facsimiles thereof.</td></tr>
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Llewelyn the Last! And not forgotten!<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjApzGlqZrgqOpw4plpMbScPEdy2qukuY_hGcIM_ZvV-cIsR4cVLEuW98nsR9469ga81nzlrQLQSmcDU4xiDYgYScTbpEJhWnMoX7ljr_BVAmSKS7nA1kA56N5JBDaEgbKgoAT7kwMNgFnQ/s1600/IMG_7999.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjApzGlqZrgqOpw4plpMbScPEdy2qukuY_hGcIM_ZvV-cIsR4cVLEuW98nsR9469ga81nzlrQLQSmcDU4xiDYgYScTbpEJhWnMoX7ljr_BVAmSKS7nA1kA56N5JBDaEgbKgoAT7kwMNgFnQ/s640/IMG_7999.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;"><br /></td></tr>
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Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07133789257179902461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943724228102202927.post-50110321530641936172018-04-08T06:15:00.001-07:002018-04-08T06:16:45.630-07:00Cymru, March 2018 XII, Aberystwyth and Men of Harlech"Aberystwyth" rolls off the tongue with just a bit of Cymraeg training. And it has been a running gag like "Basingstoke" since Shakespeare, but with fewer roundabouts.<br />
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And no joke, it is one of the most gorgeous settings for a national library!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqVfr6tHl1z31YLbDGrR2Jb-urAfSzun830qInXPO2T1Zi83_KZb5pWVJ_9OCPKIqJSl4Hs9CaeJ40sBJda0z56NMteud5ANrz4vGhb_q8q80zfM7SxA2KdiBYwEClbzimzgDzDUVLLZ4/s1600/IMG_7854.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqVfr6tHl1z31YLbDGrR2Jb-urAfSzun830qInXPO2T1Zi83_KZb5pWVJ_9OCPKIqJSl4Hs9CaeJ40sBJda0z56NMteud5ANrz4vGhb_q8q80zfM7SxA2KdiBYwEClbzimzgDzDUVLLZ4/s640/IMG_7854.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS3vjUBbSUHg_map_4zy3fvIsDQHiGXgQP6bJeLdcyH0tAmXbYQbIusNdRKzedsgWK2cIHa3e8Rmx_sBlGi5nZ2JqqdBQJM0kg1jqJn6ov-td8Mf4r705NO9Ydd8aOyYpZ0X5znd9_AMI/s1600/IMG_7856.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS3vjUBbSUHg_map_4zy3fvIsDQHiGXgQP6bJeLdcyH0tAmXbYQbIusNdRKzedsgWK2cIHa3e8Rmx_sBlGi5nZ2JqqdBQJM0kg1jqJn6ov-td8Mf4r705NO9Ydd8aOyYpZ0X5znd9_AMI/s640/IMG_7856.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yeah, Aberystwyth! Who's laughing now?</td></tr>
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There was a great tour of the facility. Cymraeg was on every tongue. And they helped me find the one document my Mentor had tasked me with. So, it was a great success and done by lunchtime. This August I'll be back for more time in the town, the sea, and hopefully, the library.<br />
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Now to Harlech.<br />
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There is a saying that to drive from one place in Wales to another, it's easier to drive out of Wales in back in. And that's not really fair. True, there are a lot of winding roads, mountains, rivers, etc. Well, that just makes it more fun! And it made it difficult to conquer the Welsh.<br />
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And I had to conquer Harlech. It was one of the most famous sites in Wales and I hadn't yet been. The Vaughans had been there before. We're caught in conflict and controversy because my ancestors Roger Vaughan and William Herbert conquered the place in 1468 after the longest siege in British history! The song, "<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DRtnWVvDX6k">Men of Harlech</a>" was even written about the siege! The only problem was, my guys were on the wrong side of that song!<br />
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And they were Welshmen, too! The Lancastrians inside Harlech were holding it for the evil French Queen Margaret d'Anjou. So who were the bad guys? Well, war is heck. But castles? Magic!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh-Pdzi1RPmq1nYW80JUagWwBCLDeUZM-It2au0u90IehvHDWyY7b0uqTPUMPpmKW5HVwzJGJ33QJw7tWQNw79YKJ8hJ0SRqg1-qg87li_6NCbFvR0auz71fFprKO4udcmMXsPwIZEvq4/s1600/IMG_7862.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh-Pdzi1RPmq1nYW80JUagWwBCLDeUZM-It2au0u90IehvHDWyY7b0uqTPUMPpmKW5HVwzJGJ33QJw7tWQNw79YKJ8hJ0SRqg1-qg87li_6NCbFvR0auz71fFprKO4udcmMXsPwIZEvq4/s640/IMG_7862.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQclCB1n9oh9KZUtJkZ0UiqtTNiXWaR9MxfjfFjJzDY1WJC3zJ5ZY5TmgxjFXNnPkNEyFOsm9Lpyk1t2OLdaYGJfhB-XzNiHAyPcPZJBlYQiOKElyb4WlCwHQP8aKA6awDM3KT440nq9s/s1600/IMG_7916.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQclCB1n9oh9KZUtJkZ0UiqtTNiXWaR9MxfjfFjJzDY1WJC3zJ5ZY5TmgxjFXNnPkNEyFOsm9Lpyk1t2OLdaYGJfhB-XzNiHAyPcPZJBlYQiOKElyb4WlCwHQP8aKA6awDM3KT440nq9s/s640/IMG_7916.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Built on a spur of rock that gave sea access (until the sea receded) it could be supplied and withstand long sieges. And it was just south of Snowdonia with great views to the North.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7hjBzLCfJ7a4RD-MptNQ4XqHnAuFEKJawJPmdttVFp0RU2wSsSNilZv3JB0YUD-ITrGQ1MI8pI6zQ7K0IZB8wU4ZflkDwqv-MqOify6wqeDCklGltoDBCeWMi0KuJJAqb3qcESguzwZM/s1600/IMG_7889.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7hjBzLCfJ7a4RD-MptNQ4XqHnAuFEKJawJPmdttVFp0RU2wSsSNilZv3JB0YUD-ITrGQ1MI8pI6zQ7K0IZB8wU4ZflkDwqv-MqOify6wqeDCklGltoDBCeWMi0KuJJAqb3qcESguzwZM/s640/IMG_7889.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On a clear day, you can see Mt. Snowdon.</td></tr>
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I hiked up the hill to get the view from the Yorkist siege lines where Herbert and Vaughan would have been.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu6HCFOdH7a0Hr1DFtyK0TWNZZjvO3n7kK6eDsLHAu6xekBxDLTKPZsTzJ6SUBXXeojtxtr17G3ggFClkiIEfn0YmpFU67RARevRDlWd5IDaFJaQsLUUoszfjLRp-BO5RrwTJJZqMA9UM/s1600/IMG_7924.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu6HCFOdH7a0Hr1DFtyK0TWNZZjvO3n7kK6eDsLHAu6xekBxDLTKPZsTzJ6SUBXXeojtxtr17G3ggFClkiIEfn0YmpFU67RARevRDlWd5IDaFJaQsLUUoszfjLRp-BO5RrwTJJZqMA9UM/s640/IMG_7924.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And there it is behind some flowering gorse.</td></tr>
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I have to admit, it was fun stormin' the castle.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLpAua6RBJqYNy6LEcYUDvNhPHHXdXRQ_RYEfdpuEBPng4oYloNHITe8q8D9BRDRMsMeCqk4FmrKlPRlr4HkSDZHornLm44ch_DQEvJNkj2diGoZW6B89IZicjikKkLM39vg_8dQVlO0M/s1600/IMG_7932.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLpAua6RBJqYNy6LEcYUDvNhPHHXdXRQ_RYEfdpuEBPng4oYloNHITe8q8D9BRDRMsMeCqk4FmrKlPRlr4HkSDZHornLm44ch_DQEvJNkj2diGoZW6B89IZicjikKkLM39vg_8dQVlO0M/s640/IMG_7932.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cadw has a fancy, new bridge making the stormin' all that much easier.</td></tr>
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Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07133789257179902461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943724228102202927.post-36950247572740930542018-04-07T06:23:00.001-07:002018-04-07T09:04:17.233-07:00Cymru, March 2018 XI, Merthyr's Satanic Mills and Talgarth's Witch's PoolIt really was a <i>blessed</i> day. Imagine what at week of Spring does to the Merthyr Tydfil Stake Center.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9biL2067vkpt50v4VttCXcAntyE6EHI1D0eqG3-JI7Rz38P5Y_-E8xFPIRspKHuvWiQfNNcvc0fZY1M5DhW27TB67ThTOxdOsh6RSIMInOhbmtAt-wK4-fBTnyNBRpf0qb0Q_y20FNi_R/s1600/IMG_7652.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9biL2067vkpt50v4VttCXcAntyE6EHI1D0eqG3-JI7Rz38P5Y_-E8xFPIRspKHuvWiQfNNcvc0fZY1M5DhW27TB67ThTOxdOsh6RSIMInOhbmtAt-wK4-fBTnyNBRpf0qb0Q_y20FNi_R/s640/IMG_7652.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Merthyr's Daffodils were just a little beaten down by the blizzard.</td></tr>
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Church was great. They were on a theme of Palm Sunday. The Bishop announced the annual sing-fest with the Dowlais Men's Choir on Good Friday. Whoa! My plans changed so I could be there.<br />
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After church, I had a sandwich and some snacks with me. I wanted to find the remnants of the old iron forges that were supposed to be just below the chapel. I found them right behind the chapel!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWbwisNJUS4dQHhmTgCsleSHLY-7Q2fDdqLwmhhg69TF6GjwwAO-DXJ3kpiP_srMuXw2YpU3XPqHkHg5JQngg17xih3o5WU8ucz1ljOJenm_Z8dZE3PGidsz90yx9fl7KEXikf7PK9nN5O/s1600/IMG_7657.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWbwisNJUS4dQHhmTgCsleSHLY-7Q2fDdqLwmhhg69TF6GjwwAO-DXJ3kpiP_srMuXw2YpU3XPqHkHg5JQngg17xih3o5WU8ucz1ljOJenm_Z8dZE3PGidsz90yx9fl7KEXikf7PK9nN5O/s640/IMG_7657.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">The evil Cafarthfa Ironworks remain a black slash across the landscape.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFFwD_R5jxixTGYO9VUQpbThXJi4F35IalEAHxumID6J9zBm8BdvOnwVteFK6_t0xuZqUQ3getJPsAPJ29xGfNLyTeiFavHhFvmnBJern1dF-DE7y3NBvTNNGQKd5NMWWVdar7GI4v5jnJ/s1600/IMG_7658.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFFwD_R5jxixTGYO9VUQpbThXJi4F35IalEAHxumID6J9zBm8BdvOnwVteFK6_t0xuZqUQ3getJPsAPJ29xGfNLyTeiFavHhFvmnBJern1dF-DE7y3NBvTNNGQKd5NMWWVdar7GI4v5jnJ/s640/IMG_7658.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">The massive scale of this was staggering. There are people in the first photo above.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKU2CUVd9S-X636MFLKpPeQaRKxTI4c_1ogoJE-d8CxMDVGopkcF8h47LxzKxG3Dd_6uTR3V_ucivwOHfzszBff0CpbT0Xlqrg7XsdfZko_LuiDF0coUKLY9EQlSmsBFWl4URPrtF2szfO/s1600/IMG_7694.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKU2CUVd9S-X636MFLKpPeQaRKxTI4c_1ogoJE-d8CxMDVGopkcF8h47LxzKxG3Dd_6uTR3V_ucivwOHfzszBff0CpbT0Xlqrg7XsdfZko_LuiDF0coUKLY9EQlSmsBFWl4URPrtF2szfO/s640/IMG_7694.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">The greenery of a now clean Taff River is slowly taken the landscape back including this iron tram bridge.</td></tr>
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I was walking along the huge remains of the furnaces when a local man came walking by. Maybe my camera gave me away as a tourist but he started explaining the tragedy of the ruins and how men had died there. "They aren't doing anything to preserve it as a monument. They gave all the money to Blaenavon, they did." I mentioned that I'd been to Blaenavon and I had ancestors who worked there. I certainly sympathized with his views of blood-soaked, capitalist exploitation. He mentioned the Iron Master Crawshay's tomb at neighboring Vaynor with a huge stone slab over his remains so they would not be disturbed by angry mobs with "God Forgive Me" inscribed. </div>
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Rather than go see that, I wanted to go back to downtown Merthyr when it was not having a blizzard so I could see where the red flag was raised in the Rising of 1831. </div>
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It wasn't hard. I found some easy, free parking. And I was right on Dic Penderyn Square honoring the Rising. Richard Lewis was his real name but because so many in the Rising were named Lewis (including Lewis Lewis) he went by his nickname derived from his hometown. Dic Penderyn was the scapegoat of the affair and he was hanged at Cardiff. His funeral procession of working men and women was over a mile long.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc41UyC2RFOrPMQh53dZouiGPFFayqvRejox49eXUVSf5KoZP0VAGjisDDljDz4DQeCJcOSz-rxN0mtVpiJ7xXkFyYIeOMGwFB3-BPTTuDRMkqTNTbRff-LFLJATin_-z-monyBZW-Q_6o/s1600/IMG_7712.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1201" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc41UyC2RFOrPMQh53dZouiGPFFayqvRejox49eXUVSf5KoZP0VAGjisDDljDz4DQeCJcOSz-rxN0mtVpiJ7xXkFyYIeOMGwFB3-BPTTuDRMkqTNTbRff-LFLJATin_-z-monyBZW-Q_6o/s640/IMG_7712.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Ironies continue with the marker on Merthyr's Carnegie Library.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtmV8eT3iyCZPX5S8mbaVQwwA1ZhSZaO0bNta2ZtVJ78cqqNqi8FB95YxV4QBoZAaGwNcm8IfZfC0hsBF8v8OKgu2Wv6a_GyCxkqZPvqme9fW2jtEgDIf3DGz-6hTG3w29SeJO_PDXGGqL/s1600/IMG_7718.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtmV8eT3iyCZPX5S8mbaVQwwA1ZhSZaO0bNta2ZtVJ78cqqNqi8FB95YxV4QBoZAaGwNcm8IfZfC0hsBF8v8OKgu2Wv6a_GyCxkqZPvqme9fW2jtEgDIf3DGz-6hTG3w29SeJO_PDXGGqL/s640/IMG_7718.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Merthyr monuments its Rising much better than Newport where martyrs to the workers also died.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
And this wonderful square is highlighted by the iron heart of Merthyr.</div>
<div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQX2G3G-DZv98vx7UVSdEAuBAy4SMlNHCtiODxpPBAZAwKEsAPx_hju-EmAyPjbhdUjXVu1SRpd85HzwfItW_KD0bwgP8G8pLHULG6s82ltl0JK6TmmS9qdYji_DMmrDFGVRzI0lxnZ8yv/s1600/IMG_7713.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQX2G3G-DZv98vx7UVSdEAuBAy4SMlNHCtiODxpPBAZAwKEsAPx_hju-EmAyPjbhdUjXVu1SRpd85HzwfItW_KD0bwgP8G8pLHULG6s82ltl0JK6TmmS9qdYji_DMmrDFGVRzI0lxnZ8yv/s640/IMG_7713.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
What's really weird is that the hotel in which I sought shelter from the storm the week before is just a couple of blocks down the street. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And weirder still, my next task was to find the places where Mormon meetings were held in the 1840s and 50s, one was in Cymreigyddion [Welsh Men's] Hall in the White Lion Inn, 14 Castle Street, which is no longer in existence, but was across the street from my Castle Hotel. John and Jane Vaughan Lewis likely would have attended church conferences here.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrrxgU25Yh2Qtp8dy0_j7BujcafFIdcpr0Tf5mo21OUB1el8zDhVJq5slFxJU7h1mqr86Gpy8WNDIAppbjrBgVkVOiuHHNE1LpOotTbp7O4kcVNpk_vJUnO1pwQR5_oUO6TeMiQrfEnW76/s1600/IMG_7722.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrrxgU25Yh2Qtp8dy0_j7BujcafFIdcpr0Tf5mo21OUB1el8zDhVJq5slFxJU7h1mqr86Gpy8WNDIAppbjrBgVkVOiuHHNE1LpOotTbp7O4kcVNpk_vJUnO1pwQR5_oUO6TeMiQrfEnW76/s640/IMG_7722.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Approximate location of the former LDS meeting place on Castle Street, now a government building.<br />
I parked there on the right the week before when I stayed at the Castle Hotel across the street!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Another Mormon Meeting House was at the former Railway in just below Merthyr Tydfil's Parish Church that I had also visited just after the blizzard. Maybe it's because Merthyr just isn't that big, but I had been to both places before and didn't know it.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwox0ZqvP0JjhaHHxGVVOGNGPosNdOKT8mM5yRBwj3tE9mxb7YgB8bqIk57D255Okr7cG4DLdhEdGX4k6Zj3XWPuNFbCOnmXJtZZrZD0ucHVA3ySxw26HIw8QMjBIgg_smATATOslFMBP1/s1600/IMG_7731.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwox0ZqvP0JjhaHHxGVVOGNGPosNdOKT8mM5yRBwj3tE9mxb7YgB8bqIk57D255Okr7cG4DLdhEdGX4k6Zj3XWPuNFbCOnmXJtZZrZD0ucHVA3ySxw26HIw8QMjBIgg_smATATOslFMBP1/s640/IMG_7731.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">The light blue building across the roundabout is the former Railway Inn, another place where Mormon meetings were held.<br />
The sculpture in the roundabout is a steel and aluminum representation of Merthyr's rebirth by Charles Sansbury.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
Back to Talgarth over the Brecon Beacons, the road was nearly clogged with Sunday mountain hikers. I went back to have a Sunday afternoon nap to catch up on the hour I had lost with <i>another</i> change to daylight savings time, now at GMT plus one!<br />
<div>
<br />
Waking from my rest, I noticed there was an advantage to the time change in that the sun was still up on a sunny day in Wales. A rarity indeed!<br />
<br />
One item on my list was to take some time for a walk in the mountains or woods. The mountains hadn't completely cleared from snow so I opted for the woods.<br />
<br />
I walked out and up through the town, more of a village, of Talgarth and on up and up until I came to a trailhead at the Pwll-y-wrach Nature Reserve. I wanted to see the waterfall at the Witch's Pool.<br />
<br />
Was this it?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8oVOJTAJQPwj17bZjpgDAl-xJ0GF2QOfTK2nm9TIIuvN2HjZ1YHIsj6S2GXalh-SKOKmW8UA5YbnrYsEfsvAX0F59toDL3teZaGdI4prPPXF7PHsa1jdp-kVISDpI8kEmtCAUzxDIcjMG/s1600/IMG_7759.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8oVOJTAJQPwj17bZjpgDAl-xJ0GF2QOfTK2nm9TIIuvN2HjZ1YHIsj6S2GXalh-SKOKmW8UA5YbnrYsEfsvAX0F59toDL3teZaGdI4prPPXF7PHsa1jdp-kVISDpI8kEmtCAUzxDIcjMG/s640/IMG_7759.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
It looked like a fairly deep pool and a place full of magic, so I heeded Galadriel's advice, "Do not touch the water!" and I kept on.<br />
<br />
My very good walking shoes are not the best mud shoes. But I kept on very carefully not to slip.<br />
<br />
Was this it?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4H_IItK8u_DfZi_iIpuoLjnQ0kGFPxqAMY_7BjvxcQGu332YZJtlantP3C5D2Fl5iICrcpoSK_ISkB0QOu6REecWB2KCQG3lJ5gtyS_MUm4cUCbSRAq6tIMShJ2CNV0raqFH8yJ_1aGAN/s1600/IMG_7764.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4H_IItK8u_DfZi_iIpuoLjnQ0kGFPxqAMY_7BjvxcQGu332YZJtlantP3C5D2Fl5iICrcpoSK_ISkB0QOu6REecWB2KCQG3lJ5gtyS_MUm4cUCbSRAq6tIMShJ2CNV0raqFH8yJ_1aGAN/s640/IMG_7764.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br /></div>
<div>
At any moment, I expected to see Goldberry, River's Daughter, or Tom Bombadil come singing rhymes down the trail.<br />
<br />
On I went.<br />
<br />
I knew I had arrived back home to a place I must have been before at least in dreams.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiywL0b1hdTnIdoaDlz_C43uW3x4joUR9ISe82Aq29MpzJwFbS3646nxhF6DazxNvgh96qRsm1slvAs5nNlv6_R5RWdIyv9AJHeX1OaUCUmGHtkSDpDQf3indD1_g5TYzYZ4zP8OzUi8ICy/s1600/IMG_7795.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1201" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiywL0b1hdTnIdoaDlz_C43uW3x4joUR9ISe82Aq29MpzJwFbS3646nxhF6DazxNvgh96qRsm1slvAs5nNlv6_R5RWdIyv9AJHeX1OaUCUmGHtkSDpDQf3indD1_g5TYzYZ4zP8OzUi8ICy/s640/IMG_7795.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
There is magic here. They say it is called "Witch's Pool" because it was supposedly used for witch-dunking in the cruel days. It is too beautiful for cruelty. I'm going with Glinda who was a good witch and beautiful. This was a place where good witches met to recharge their earth powers. It worked for me.<br />
<br />
Still, I did not touch the water.</div>
</div>
Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07133789257179902461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943724228102202927.post-65675920804087494522018-04-05T03:57:00.000-07:002018-04-05T08:27:46.985-07:00They Possibly Lived at BrynUsing a different mapping system for the same area of the lands likely leased by Roger Vaughan (1734-1797) to grow flax, I found a cottage name: Bryn.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrD-JsXIzhWYv3TnVhOnWl5kW8M5jvX7wg3Y8chBV5LQGNHXEHteGjkHvGQ1roMkPfMR_Egn2XJdgAZQ-n0OTCoPau7zN8HiuvhY-1XsCIO3lrwqNTINzEy7Q4EVpy2fEufiv9TJqmAZQ/s1600/Bryn+Coflein+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="580" data-original-width="1363" height="272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrD-JsXIzhWYv3TnVhOnWl5kW8M5jvX7wg3Y8chBV5LQGNHXEHteGjkHvGQ1roMkPfMR_Egn2XJdgAZQ-n0OTCoPau7zN8HiuvhY-1XsCIO3lrwqNTINzEy7Q4EVpy2fEufiv9TJqmAZQ/s640/Bryn+Coflein+1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2R9ubzuyWDrKsMSORvqCPhXD2XOynpwulhqYTXAcfJ3fkRd_oT6f_50ehyphenhyphen6_qKb6q3IAmxLTJc6IPMj_GmuWjvQB1qvHsuSJkjiPZ8jlEJmkmR5J18z83tYW6uZmy6OxPhU3DMswYuHU/s1600/Bryn+Coflein+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="577" data-original-width="1360" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2R9ubzuyWDrKsMSORvqCPhXD2XOynpwulhqYTXAcfJ3fkRd_oT6f_50ehyphenhyphen6_qKb6q3IAmxLTJc6IPMj_GmuWjvQB1qvHsuSJkjiPZ8jlEJmkmR5J18z83tYW6uZmy6OxPhU3DMswYuHU/s640/Bryn+Coflein+2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
It is a simple name meaning "hill." The hill would be Pipton Hill with its wood on top where the Wye River comes close right in the area of Bryn Cottage and the field that was occupied by a John Jones on the 1840s tithe maps of Wales.<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
Assuming the John Jones on the tithe map is a successor in interest to the Charles Jones who leased (or subleased) to our Roger Vaughan, then this would be some of the flax lands in the application and the only field that includes a cottage.<br />
<br />
There are opportunities for research on these Joneses as well as the ultimate owner of the parcel, Sir Charles Morgan. There is the possibility of finding more leases in Morgan estate papers either in Powys Records Office or the National Library of Wales, maybe the UK Records Office in Kew.<br />
<br />
Sadly, according to the maps, this Bryn Cottage was right where the modern road now passes. Still, I was right there.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbFflj6xuIYVkxX04ioPzka4bnRPQ1tAKk1D8A7GiPwSwPq2czAXnlTcQkqE09W6RJu2FpLaaXoHk4O5YyHMFA2a2osqEzz7IreQtLQAOEQdF-qd1TS5DZtaAS2jit-dr2vPn0n_L5SBk/s1600/IMG_8159.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbFflj6xuIYVkxX04ioPzka4bnRPQ1tAKk1D8A7GiPwSwPq2czAXnlTcQkqE09W6RJu2FpLaaXoHk4O5YyHMFA2a2osqEzz7IreQtLQAOEQdF-qd1TS5DZtaAS2jit-dr2vPn0n_L5SBk/s640/IMG_8159.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My car parked up ahead. The barn on the left is Boxbush. Pipton Hill is above to the left.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Between where my car is parked and the farm road coming out past the Boxbush barn is where Bryn Cottage was according to the Coflein mapping on the original Ordnance Survey map also from the 1840s.<br />
<br />
Here's another view from across the road where my car is parked looking towards the Boxbush barn. Note my shadow. It was right here.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgymLsXvxVyBm2IoQDY_XJKPDiJQk7rWxGyBUpnGVlfMmrp-JSlStb-Bzq3P6ecJRss9iTM7201lTI6fGIrMD1W9pccL5lHo7vO4j5glAKsdE40e4AstOeu4akoRLmsoqr42PPv4cB8ymw/s1600/IMG_8155.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgymLsXvxVyBm2IoQDY_XJKPDiJQk7rWxGyBUpnGVlfMmrp-JSlStb-Bzq3P6ecJRss9iTM7201lTI6fGIrMD1W9pccL5lHo7vO4j5glAKsdE40e4AstOeu4akoRLmsoqr42PPv4cB8ymw/s640/IMG_8155.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The road from Aberllynfi (Three Cocks) through Pipton towards Bronllys/Talgarth between Pipton Hill and the River Wye.<br />
The barn is Boxbush. Pipton Hill and Wood are on the right. The Wye River is beyond the field to the left. </td></tr>
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Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07133789257179902461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943724228102202927.post-74559596184355539042018-04-02T15:43:00.000-07:002018-04-02T15:43:18.922-07:00Yes, the day after Easter is a bank holiday making this a big weekend in the UK. Many of the Sacsens were like, "Oh, la-dee-dah, let's go to Wales, Dear! I hear it's so quaint. They even have books now!" So they all pile into their Rolls or Auston Martins or whatever and drive on over to Hay-on-Wye, the Town of Books.<br />
<br />
Ha! They don't even know where to park for free.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJR62UFG-0KgaGXWLMhi19_fnwtCBONDs21wj1p9HHnaHiQ_3O5SE6u68ll1qqTLo-xcuh6FwsYSfveLj2Du6bGWS-RYac4vfm2fmHWHw_slpE5przSwOlrXBftqJc2vODpnCRCUs6Qy3D/s1600/IMG_8681.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJR62UFG-0KgaGXWLMhi19_fnwtCBONDs21wj1p9HHnaHiQ_3O5SE6u68ll1qqTLo-xcuh6FwsYSfveLj2Du6bGWS-RYac4vfm2fmHWHw_slpE5przSwOlrXBftqJc2vODpnCRCUs6Qy3D/s640/IMG_8681.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">I KNOW!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I apologize profusely to my many English friends and ancestors. But I do know where to park in Hay. I also know where to use the loo without paying 20p. And if you have to pay, put your 20p in the handicapped or gender-free loos because they are much cleaner and actually function.<br />
<a name='more'></a>It was a bittersweet day. It didn't rain too much. It must have rained a lot in the night because the Wye and the Dulas Brook were running wild and brown approaching flood stage. I did buy a few books. I was in no rush. The concentration was on my collection on Wales and I also got a couple on the history of Scotland because I have to do that part of the tour too.<br />
<br />
<br />
In one of the stores, I looked out the first floor (our second) window and saw Hay Castle!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitVjqzMdz5_95GKHT2m0Erde8sJ7KDUbIQIkBy2ezzxZAIfbUJ0f-nprmHPjL_Jf78HdvhCQDtFuFwlaK6-MjfrBkxgXxfI7KOowOdBxHNagWv3Q5zfTBkPR0RgvYH7rtVQ5i3kT68muLG/s1600/IMG_8682.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitVjqzMdz5_95GKHT2m0Erde8sJ7KDUbIQIkBy2ezzxZAIfbUJ0f-nprmHPjL_Jf78HdvhCQDtFuFwlaK6-MjfrBkxgXxfI7KOowOdBxHNagWv3Q5zfTBkPR0RgvYH7rtVQ5i3kT68muLG/s640/IMG_8682.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">I KNOW!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The same place had an Electric Grandmother near the front door.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwLg-cc11NyeUO8hrPDw0g-WR1IhDSSUEHUhULc36MZ-yIdMLgxAJ19iyodjjgXkJfr_a68remDaZU3IGyhvOtm1EJEWPFqaKvCG9j88QVDLyAPHslsbRc5ISykSMtIF13Z9ub1isMJqy7/s1600/IMG_8683.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwLg-cc11NyeUO8hrPDw0g-WR1IhDSSUEHUhULc36MZ-yIdMLgxAJ19iyodjjgXkJfr_a68remDaZU3IGyhvOtm1EJEWPFqaKvCG9j88QVDLyAPHslsbRc5ISykSMtIF13Z9ub1isMJqy7/s640/IMG_8683.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">"I Sing the Body Electric" You'd a had to been there.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
After buying a few books and dropping them off in my well-parked car, I wandered away from the bookstores and tried to find remnants of old dwelling places where a poor family like ours would have lived way back 200 years ago.<br />
<div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2GtSW4g6gkp9ydPjkkwhjhTdgCkEhIHdefNNenjfXhznAwDF8i4UtrG_PoH2I1ooLH0HUWVsALUmak0U222QlYUWFhIWHgM4qCNGfHPMrN2T29FYKOT4j5t9dTiu-buFrZBuSTRUhc5pu/s1600/IMG_8686.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2GtSW4g6gkp9ydPjkkwhjhTdgCkEhIHdefNNenjfXhznAwDF8i4UtrG_PoH2I1ooLH0HUWVsALUmak0U222QlYUWFhIWHgM4qCNGfHPMrN2T29FYKOT4j5t9dTiu-buFrZBuSTRUhc5pu/s640/IMG_8686.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">It would have been a place something like this but with more Love and Squalor.</td></tr>
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Then I had my life flash before me as I found a place to walk down to the Dulas Brook. My shoes are great for walking, but not so much for snow or mud. A woman with a dog pretended that she did not see me and I'm glad I didn't have to lie there until the Queen sent out her Home Guard to find me (my daughter's supposed to call Her if she doesn't see a post from me for a day or two.) Fortunately, I have wet wipes in my car which was excellently parked.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">It was a dark and stormy day as we crossed the Rio Grande.</td></tr>
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I recovered my dignity enough to continue on up the hill on the English side of the Dulas Brook and, of course, found myself in Cusop!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm3UJDQDC5ZTvGWQFG42hHlPwwQRhdrTZkyiVqEBK4om2bLU0lmE5qPn2Poz6j8KwywSHCmZwqugPCkj3BQArSIkIyHKMegj7jb0gCza8CbLnbNJ7EeTzDaoYf0ORLCLA_HaoTg5UsjOVw/s1600/IMG_8697.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm3UJDQDC5ZTvGWQFG42hHlPwwQRhdrTZkyiVqEBK4om2bLU0lmE5qPn2Poz6j8KwywSHCmZwqugPCkj3BQArSIkIyHKMegj7jb0gCza8CbLnbNJ7EeTzDaoYf0ORLCLA_HaoTg5UsjOVw/s640/IMG_8697.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<br />That's the place where I gave my presentation seems like months ago! It really is interesting to find how close together the world is when you start walking around. (And almost die in the mud.)</div>
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Remembering I had to get photos of the adverts for the upcoming Hay Festival of Books, I did:</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">If you write it, they will come.</td></tr>
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It started to rain harder and I decided it was time to leave . . . .</div>
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And there was one more great adventure before coming back to pack. </div>
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My wife and I have stopped by the church at Llowes before. It's where Roger (1774-1797) and Elizabeth Powel (1732-1803) Vaughan were married in 1753 (the current church has been significantly altered.) And today, it was unlocked!<br /><br />What I wanted to see was St. Meilig's Cross. The background provided by the church on this was bare-bones, but it is possible that this was a standing stone before it was chiseled into a cross by Celtic Missionaries. And, the greater legend is that this is the stone that the alleged witch and likely nasty person Maud de Braose threw over the Wye River! It was her husband who killed the Welsh Princes at the Christmas Feast in Abergavenny and she was eventually "done in" by none other than King John, who imprisoned her and her son until they starved to death. I KNOW!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">St. Meilig's Cross, Llowes, Old Radnorshire</td></tr>
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Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07133789257179902461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7943724228102202927.post-83904858812394964072018-04-02T02:19:00.001-07:002018-05-28T09:37:14.184-07:00Cymru, March 2018 X, the Long and Golden ValleysUp early in the bright day before the time changed to daylight savings or whatever they call it here, I took a walk out from my new digs in the attic of the Castle Hotel, Talgarth, to visit neighboring Bronllys Castle. Held briefly by the Vaughans in the 15th Century, it is one of the classic, round keeps of the Southern Welsh borders (think Tretower). It was locked when I arrived but soon the keeper of the keys came. I told her that I would report her favorably to the lord. I meant the lord of the castle. She said she wouldn't presume to take St. Peter's job. Oops. Wrong Lord.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Bronllys (Hill Court) still to be revealed beyond a field of daffodils.</td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzG8XaB7im-vzQG2ULN5Qc8ozcFw4jFypA2QAD9gohuCOGa6dDxRtZGaWUd3qdXVFLHQoKNAtUpt5-_1yQEbX5cl4dQnL98wcuhxwKXFIUlQ9zEq0rHm0TkMVIEeEmA63uplGyFmgzv7-c/s1600/IMG_7421.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzG8XaB7im-vzQG2ULN5Qc8ozcFw4jFypA2QAD9gohuCOGa6dDxRtZGaWUd3qdXVFLHQoKNAtUpt5-_1yQEbX5cl4dQnL98wcuhxwKXFIUlQ9zEq0rHm0TkMVIEeEmA63uplGyFmgzv7-c/s640/IMG_7421.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">The gates are open! Castle exploring requires good stair exercise.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Definitely in the Ivy League of castles!</td></tr>
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The best part is that circular stairs inside will take you all the way to the top for wonderful views!<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAZCPMToGYPgq78wIQNsWpKOz5ZIuIgwf03X5vOrScvIzMttS6JSpZk4bJu2-fzr7vVIYoo2k8hqHWY_FX4BCloWBZJ_-qtj0IHEEkpNAH1aBrOFpftjIN8UnwVp_SYoV6RBn82NWnnBD7/s1600/IMG_7442.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAZCPMToGYPgq78wIQNsWpKOz5ZIuIgwf03X5vOrScvIzMttS6JSpZk4bJu2-fzr7vVIYoo2k8hqHWY_FX4BCloWBZJ_-qtj0IHEEkpNAH1aBrOFpftjIN8UnwVp_SYoV6RBn82NWnnBD7/s640/IMG_7442.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Talgarth, old Brecknockshire. The Black Mountains to the left, Mynydd Troed to the right.<br />
Between them is the pass over to the Rhiangoll Valley, Cwmdu and Tretower, on the way to Abergavenny.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Looking South towards Llangors Lake, Buckland (yes, a real place Tolkien borrowed!), and the Brecon Beacons</td></tr>
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One of the chaps in the History Group has been doing phenomenal work gathering info on the history of inhabitants along the streets of Hay. He also did some physical labor cleaning up the back of St. Mary's churchyard in Hay! I thanked him greatly as it was a horror of brambles when we first came in 2010. Now, it looks so much better and he is cataloging monument inscriptions!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">St. Mary's, Hay-on-Wye. Back of the church. What a difference!</td></tr>
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Longtown required a visit for two reasons which will not be shared now. I promised an exclusive on another, more prominent blog. And I had to practice for my post-retirement gig. More will be revealed.<br />
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First, I had to get to Longtown Castle. The Google lady was great because she sent me up Forest Road from Hay, part way up the mountain. That road is so much less intimidating than when we first came in 2010. I dropped off at the turn to Craswell and was happy to be following up the higher reaches of Cusop Dingle which marks the border between Wales and England when it was then confirmed at this wonderful site.<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKBcLcN2m2ilqy8SHMHDygf9xQQKfcLljIcsyPb46RfxqkX9XVb80Csh9UUMND5dTwwOUGGITaw1EVEZfv_9i7kNFxts21NpqMLxwj1G1vfW_Dum2f2_f66pS0G62NcK-EpTdUAlI8B6qt/s1600/IMG_7496.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKBcLcN2m2ilqy8SHMHDygf9xQQKfcLljIcsyPb46RfxqkX9XVb80Csh9UUMND5dTwwOUGGITaw1EVEZfv_9i7kNFxts21NpqMLxwj1G1vfW_Dum2f2_f66pS0G62NcK-EpTdUAlI8B6qt/s640/IMG_7496.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Abandoned lime kiln on the England side of Dulas Brook high up in Cusop Dingle.</td></tr>
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<span id="goog_1778107244"></span><span id="goog_1778107245"></span>Craswell is not so much of a place but an experience. It is a farm parish with no clear center except for the tiny, and beautiful medieval church high up on the side of the mountains. (The crest becomes the England-Wales border.)<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">St. Mary's Craswell, Herefordshire</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">The Black Mountain Border from St. Mary's Craswell.</td></tr>
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Longtown Castle did not disappoint! (Free entry and all for most of these border castle ruins.)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5I_g-XqBJhucPC_b-yGbidD_36emBh_KA9IR853SqrtIfpoEpXEY0z0CctTOIOPRkQjzk_3al1uwSbXlrBlVMyhNNOl6uog1Tm7FcKS2XVJRf5qiOSh1vHe5FiCHqPVUr9l17dGQ64zDJ/s1600/IMG_7533.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5I_g-XqBJhucPC_b-yGbidD_36emBh_KA9IR853SqrtIfpoEpXEY0z0CctTOIOPRkQjzk_3al1uwSbXlrBlVMyhNNOl6uog1Tm7FcKS2XVJRf5qiOSh1vHe5FiCHqPVUr9l17dGQ64zDJ/s640/IMG_7533.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRFIoUQjDk_5DBQXquHr0wbdAv70s6mo3FADoLR1buuM2vKqc7qF6Qdk2Hcm2qKGYsn2BVNV2lJyLB-mvfqryg_JojaywLul3J6HES8DlucW6Wq4U7xM20HNBIm_vGVBxoWemqCjM4hs-r/s1600/IMG_7545.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1201" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRFIoUQjDk_5DBQXquHr0wbdAv70s6mo3FADoLR1buuM2vKqc7qF6Qdk2Hcm2qKGYsn2BVNV2lJyLB-mvfqryg_JojaywLul3J6HES8DlucW6Wq4U7xM20HNBIm_vGVBxoWemqCjM4hs-r/s640/IMG_7545.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Longtown Castle</td></tr>
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I won't go into a looong explanation of "Longtown," the ancient kingdoms, and the special rights granted the Welsh in this strip of Herefordshire. You can just Google all that.<br />
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It was then off to Abbey Dore through the hedgerows. I was in the Golden Valley again, the double misnamed of the Afon Dwr which means "wet river." The Normans thought Cymraeg "dwr" was their own "d'or" or "golden." It's just another wet valley. We've passed this Abbey many times before and I never had the chance to stop.<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBiCU9QC8XbcbE1lwJd88-g_f2r9AblYsRHj3fmukz74KVc25QsW8xwocX2WUsGlVHmCY1kaOgv6BXnKwLEFeRgbjuaSedaXSuThUNKrJdrJ6LYM91Dg8VixPVu-rzP77waVTcLdoltarC/s1600/IMG_7561.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBiCU9QC8XbcbE1lwJd88-g_f2r9AblYsRHj3fmukz74KVc25QsW8xwocX2WUsGlVHmCY1kaOgv6BXnKwLEFeRgbjuaSedaXSuThUNKrJdrJ6LYM91Dg8VixPVu-rzP77waVTcLdoltarC/s640/IMG_7561.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Abbey Dore, Golden Valley, Herefordshire</td></tr>
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At the dissolution of the monasteries by Henry VIII, whoever got this abbey kept much of it intact as an impressive parish church.<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjD3MhHkWZAvIbwgV0smN9Z1QzEkmLM4XlepVxDQRob5xlG-P9u9Se634ToZwyQi9gIVvJ9a9myO9mzLBEeIGgz7DxeALPI742Tezeyu6uuvGdinp-T0tw3R83Imw7QQdMmkOKXnbQ4SL8/s1600/IMG_7566.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjD3MhHkWZAvIbwgV0smN9Z1QzEkmLM4XlepVxDQRob5xlG-P9u9Se634ToZwyQi9gIVvJ9a9myO9mzLBEeIGgz7DxeALPI742Tezeyu6uuvGdinp-T0tw3R83Imw7QQdMmkOKXnbQ4SL8/s640/IMG_7566.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Abbey Dore arches</td></tr>
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There was a very nice Green Man in there on the floor, salvaged from some corner of the old Abbey.<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjurjeoh1QEdFbHnFMCIFZC5I56Nrgf3fJXDLPAVzIQJVWo0rCNlsRDqFdw3cRwsVxzsn12f0OCTuZdssjldATnih9YcNkCMWiKjNVKQGrVaeIdyVEzf28sbvL50Oj68bje2aI8ryH3Yq4b/s1600/IMG_7574.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1499" data-original-width="1600" height="598" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjurjeoh1QEdFbHnFMCIFZC5I56Nrgf3fJXDLPAVzIQJVWo0rCNlsRDqFdw3cRwsVxzsn12f0OCTuZdssjldATnih9YcNkCMWiKjNVKQGrVaeIdyVEzf28sbvL50Oj68bje2aI8ryH3Yq4b/s640/IMG_7574.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">I know I couldn't get him on the plane and the Queen would have MY head.</td></tr>
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After talking with a caretaker outside weeding the graves (I always thank people cleaning up churches having done some of that myself) I learned that there was no Vaughan crest as I had thought in this Abbey. It is, however, one of the possible, secret burial sites of Owain Glydwr. Checking my smartphone, the Vaughan crest is supposed to be up at Peterchurch. I stopped by there and was somewhat horrified to enter into a children's birthday party in one third of the church. Another third had been converted into a cafe and I saw no Vaughan crest anywhere.<br />
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Moving further up the valley, I crossed over to Bredwardine to visit the originator of the Vaughan surname in these parts, old Rhosier Fychan (Vaughan).<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzV22MpZdtuDp7hXhgut1kDaEMipp6jcnpAX1DqzI1-T2Tf-3Low2gno0RksLmurlAymimK_q6jFOJHJEnFrF6cJ7_0ZF3X-4h2ifSpLRpM19QiA7vagoP60KIOKql62s8Uy4st4AYNk63/s1600/IMG_7590.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzV22MpZdtuDp7hXhgut1kDaEMipp6jcnpAX1DqzI1-T2Tf-3Low2gno0RksLmurlAymimK_q6jFOJHJEnFrF6cJ7_0ZF3X-4h2ifSpLRpM19QiA7vagoP60KIOKql62s8Uy4st4AYNk63/s640/IMG_7590.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Rhosier Fychan ap Rhosier Hen</td></tr>
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And, I got a good pic of the very rare Sheela creature outside of Ireland. Definitely pre-Norman, maybe even Celtic Church!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipE3HrdaB2kvlR8beIgCSTAtAe_5OW3jnfnfQdwrwg44sDFz45-Pwct1-7aDPd9JL038Blq1fcZk2Pli8n03XZnYBzF1AyTM3KYy_eTd7DKE6GrwuYO6fFGalqVl5JNZJKGTZJSZq9oYR1/s1600/IMG_7600.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipE3HrdaB2kvlR8beIgCSTAtAe_5OW3jnfnfQdwrwg44sDFz45-Pwct1-7aDPd9JL038Blq1fcZk2Pli8n03XZnYBzF1AyTM3KYy_eTd7DKE6GrwuYO6fFGalqVl5JNZJKGTZJSZq9oYR1/s640/IMG_7600.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Recently reading about the castles of Herefordshire, I learned that Old (actually Young) Roger's castle ruins under a green mound next to the church are plain for all to see. That is if you know what you're looking at.<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivgeruvzoBtmDA8g21HOx-rEySsff2LNEBu_URcB2_0uRUkmEQoiDvogmK17MriSv9fmOYx0F-BjhVl__65-7Bwu05mVNCAyVp1eNusRaNbavmHcta1Z8A_UhdVQitbCMUE0k-CjsmsKM1/s1600/IMG_7618.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivgeruvzoBtmDA8g21HOx-rEySsff2LNEBu_URcB2_0uRUkmEQoiDvogmK17MriSv9fmOYx0F-BjhVl__65-7Bwu05mVNCAyVp1eNusRaNbavmHcta1Z8A_UhdVQitbCMUE0k-CjsmsKM1/s640/IMG_7618.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">From the Bredwardine Bridge over the Wye, the mound to the right of the church is Bredwardine Castle.</td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxpqaD3vkq3xuwkJmpH0bvQjCL-r6oiXrtTGeIWCIZcwWCDML889nwKsEMBFi8c2PEBop9Dqdm8IQcFHLF6bPT14zf5rl-m9DPryWlWf1D-lrQdx-M4E11r70AvuH3kaQZLBGqCB76BEbz/s1600/IMG_7606.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxpqaD3vkq3xuwkJmpH0bvQjCL-r6oiXrtTGeIWCIZcwWCDML889nwKsEMBFi8c2PEBop9Dqdm8IQcFHLF6bPT14zf5rl-m9DPryWlWf1D-lrQdx-M4E11r70AvuH3kaQZLBGqCB76BEbz/s640/IMG_7606.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">A view of Bredwardine Castle mound from closer to the church.</td></tr>
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Wandering around the castle mound, I finally made my day with this:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5Bc-R7TYKlGeAi8eQOBiqDwNhO5YyK9vYqyIvBzEXqmmHhyphenhyphenGx5EgX9XNRtme68NV6rOqyZDEDc2bz9pEIYJ4oUsn9jxC-0soEfLbjx4Tke6vmDDJD_7nd8ZhZCxadeUMsu9MyY1q7zc_C/s1600/IMG_7640.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5Bc-R7TYKlGeAi8eQOBiqDwNhO5YyK9vYqyIvBzEXqmmHhyphenhyphenGx5EgX9XNRtme68NV6rOqyZDEDc2bz9pEIYJ4oUsn9jxC-0soEfLbjx4Tke6vmDDJD_7nd8ZhZCxadeUMsu9MyY1q7zc_C/s640/IMG_7640.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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Granthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07133789257179902461noreply@blogger.com2