Robert FitzHamon, The Twelve Knights & 'The Golden Mile'


Robert FitzHamon the Norman conquer of Glamorgan is thought to have been born somewhere between the years 1045 and 1055, in Cruelly, Calvados, France.

He is thought to have been the child of Hamo, Count of Corbeil and Elisabeth d'Avoye. Robert is thought to be the great grandson of Richard I of Normandy.

Not many details are known about Roberts life before 1087.

Robert became married to Sybil de Montgomery between 1087 - 1090. They went on to have four daughters including Maud FitzHamon and Isabella (or Hawisa) who is said to have married the Count of Brittany.

Although Robert FitzHamon founded Tewskesbury Abbey during 1087, the actual building of the present structure did not start until 1109, several years after his death. The abbey was apparently built under the influence of his wife, Sybil who was said to be a “beautiful and religious woman”.

Robert was a loyal supporter of William the Conquerors son,  William Rufus throughout the Rebellion of 1088 and he was rewarded the Lordship of Gloucester for his outstanding duties to the crown.

Later with the help of his carefully selected  “Twelve Knights of Glamorgan” FitzHamon became the  Norman conquer of Glamorgan, in doing so he fought and killed both Rhys ap Tewder and Iestyn ap Cwrgan. His main seat of Lordship for Glamorgan would have been at Cardiff Castle.

The story goes that Einon ap Collwyn was sent to convince Robert FitzHamon to help Prince Iestyn ap Cwrgan defeat his neighbour and rival Rhy ap Tewder. FitzHamon agreed to help but in return he asked for a ‘mile of gold’. It is thought to receive his reward FitzHamon lined a mile with Norman soldiers and tradition states that coins were placed “side by side” in front of the soldiers.

The 'Twelve Knights of Glamorgan' were the legendary followers of Robert FitzHamon. 
Together they conquered Glamorgan, South Wales. 


The Twelve Knights of Glamorgan: 
  • Sir William de Londres , Ogmore.

In 1116, William de Londres was forced to abandon the Castle of Ogmore when the Welsh appeared in force. His butler, Arnold is credited with protecting the castle from the Welsh attack during teh absence of William de Londres and for this he was knighted Sir Arnold Butler, also recieving the castle and Manor of Dunraven as a reward.

William or his descendant John built Ewenny Abbey one mile from the castle. Nearby was a religious place appeneded to Ogmore Castle by Maurice de Londres (The son of William) or his descendent John in 1141, Ewenny Priory is two miles from Ogmore Castle.

The lands passed in 1298 to the First Duke of Lancaster.

William de Londres and his son Maurice de Londres are also connected to the The Legend of Ogmore Castle


  • Sir Payne de Turbeville, Coity.


The de Tuberville family held the Lordship of Coity from c.1092 until c.1380. The Lordship is thought to have been founded by Sir Payne de Turberville.  He was given this Lordship in return for his services during the Norman Conquest. The Turberville Lordship was ended by the death of Richard Turberville, Sir Payne de Turberville's 6th great grandson in c.1380. He left no male heiress, leaving his sisters as four co-heiresses. His eldest sister Katherine married into the Berkerolles family which led the Lordship to be taken up by their family.

The descendants of Sir Payne de Turberville came to own Sker House during the late 1500’s. The family played a very important part in the affairs of the county as they had held the Lordship of Coity many years before.
  • Sir Richard Grenville, Neath.
  • Sir Robert St. Quintin, Llanblethian.
  • Sir Richard Siward, Talyfan.
  • Sir Gilbert Umfraville, Penmark.
  • Sir Roger Berkerolles, St. Athan.
  • Sir Reginald Sully,  Sully.
  • Sir Reter le Soare, Llanbedr-ar-Lai
  • Sir John Fleming, Wenvoe.
  • Sir Oliver St. John, Fonmon.

  • Sir William Stradling, St. Donat’s.
The Stradling Knight, who is believed to be an ancestor of Sir Edward Stradling of St Donats, comes under much scrutiny from many historians as it has been more recently determined that the first Stradling recorded in Glamorgan actually arrived later than FitzHamon.*


After Robert FitzHamon became the receiver of a serious head injury, he was “never the same mentally”. He then died two years later in (d.1107).  Robert is buried at Chapter House, Tewkesbury Abbey.


Below is the story of  'The Golden Mile' as told by Alun Morgan. 


Not far from Porthcawl, on the main A48 road to Cardiff, there is a very straight section of the highway which even today is known as ‘The Golden Mile’. Historians maintain, however, that the original ‘Golden Mile’ was a mile or two to the east of the stretch of road known today by that name -- nearer the village of Pentre Meyrick. This name is shown on very old maps and this is how the story came about.

Iestyn ap Cwrgan, Prince of Glamorgan, was always at war with a neighbour, Rhy ap Tewdwr (the Welsh often preferred fighting with each other rather than uniting against a foreign enemy). One day, being rather hard pressed, Iestyn sent a plea for help to the Norman Baron FitzHamon. The messenger he sent was a trusted follower, Einon ap Collwyn, himself a brother of a former prince of South Wales. Einon, if successful, was to have Iestyn’s daughter in marriage. FitzHamon listened carefully to Einon and promised aid on condition that he received a ‘mile of gold’.


Iestyn and FitzHamon then combined forces and defeated Rhys ap Tewdwr, who was chased and slain near Hirwaun. To receive their reward the Norman soliders lined up in one long rank along a path which became known as Y Milltyr Aur - The Golden Mile. Tradition has it that the coins were placed side by side in front of the men. But Iestyn did not keep his promise to Einon, so Einon went away and persuaded FitzHamon to come back and join forces with him against their former ally. The Norman required encouragement, for he saw his chance of great gain for himself against the quarrelling Welshmen. He joined forces with Einon and it was Iestyn’s  turn to be defeated and killed.

This story has given rise to a further legend for, in the eyes of most Welshman, Einon was now the traitor who, for his own ends, had laid his country open to attack and conquest by the Normans. This is the story.

A drover was once driving his cattle through the Vale of Glamorgan en route for the meat market of London. Feeling tired he rested in a shady nook and was surprised to see a fox creeping towards him. The fox had an old,  grey appearance and had a worried look on its face. The startled drover then heard the fox speaking. It explained that it was burdened with sorrow and distress. Overcoming his fear the drover laughed at which the fox became angry, explaining that he was really Einon ap Collwyn, who had betrayed the Welsh to the Normans. As a punishment for his sins he was doomed to spend the rest of eternity as a fox.

It is not difficult to understand why this story came about for in Welsh country districts the fox was regarded as the devil’s spy and many were the stories told about this animal. To see several together, for example was unlucky and to see a dark or black fox meant death  for the beholder. The sight of a grey or white fox indicated a mortality within one’s own family.

The drover, we are told, avoided that particular route on future occasions.


Illustration by Margaret Wooding

* Although the first Stradling recorded in Glamorgan was after the time of Robert FitzHamon, it may just mean that the Stradling Knight went unrecorded. 

Images: Tewkesbury Abbey Ewenny Priory - My Own


Ceffyl Dwr, Bwci Bo, Corpse Candles and Tylwyth Teg.



The Ceffyl Dwr is known throughout Wales as a mysterious shape shifting creature, although what form it takes depends on the area of Wales that you are in!
For example:

  • In North Wales the creature takes the form of a fiery eyed, dark presence.
  • In South Wales he is represented as a "winged steed", taking his place by Rivers, Water Pools, and Waterfalls . Although that he is thought to be a positive creature he has been known as a "pest" to lone travellers.


Corpse Candles or ‘Wil-o-the-Wisp’ appear in folktales from around the world. In Welsh Folklore it is suggested that the Corpse Candles are "fairy fires" held by a small goblin by the name of Pwca. This goblin who is thought to be part of the Tylwyth Teg ("the Fair Folk"), leads lone travellers "off the beaten track", the traveller is then led to a marsh and the light is extinguished leaving the traveller lost. In some parts of Wales it is also thought that the presence of a Corpse Candle predicts that a funeral will take place in the community.

Ceffyl Dwr and Bwci Bo

As well as having spirit hounds to contend with, to say nothing of corpse candles, ghosts and phantom funerals, the children of Porthcawl in the nineteenth century were often petrified with fear at the mention of the Ceffyl Dwr and Bwci Bo.

The first, in English the Water Horse, was known throughout Wales and in other parts of Europe. It was a ghost horse that always frequented fords and crossing places of rivers and, as might be expected the River Ogmore had one. At first the creature seemed innocuous enough, quietly cropping the grass at the water’s edge. This tempted a traveller to mount the horse in order to get to the other side without wetting his feet. Immediately he has mounted the traveller found himself airborne, far above the earth. At an altitude of a couple if hundred feet the animal vanished leaving its rider to pluge to his death. The remains were gathered up and the horse repeated the trick with another unsuspecting person. In Ireland the horse was called Poocah, a word similar in meaning to the Welsh Bwca or Bwci Bo. 

To the Welsh children, however, the Bwci Bo was a goblin who haunted certain houses, mostly farms. He was also called Bwca’r Trwyn because of hid exceptionally long nose. This creature had to be appeased with pails of milk left outside the house each night. As long as this was done he kept quiet and even sometimes tided up the rooms while he inmates were asleep. But if spied upon or ill treated he would turn nasty and bring ill luck to the house. Children lived in terror of him and the writer (Alun Morgan) can testify that, at the tender age of eight, he went to bed one evening a quivering mass of nerves because an old aunt had threatened to call in Bwci Bo if he failed to improve his behaviour. That was in this century (1900’s).



Illustration by Margaret Wooding

The Legend of Kenfig Pool



A peasant, lining in the town of Kenfig, once loved the daughter of the Norman Earl of Clare, but she refused him because of his lowly status. To obtain money he killed and robbed the local lord. He used his ill-gotten gains on grand clothes and general show of ostentation. Impressed, the girl promised to marry him. At the wedding feast, just as the guests were beginning to enjoy themselves, a voice was heard crying out a warning of vengeance. The guest asked obvious questions such as ‘Why?’ and ‘When?’ but merely received the reply, ‘Vengeance will come at the end of the ninth generation.’ They all laughed at this for none of them thought they would live as long as that.

But they did and one day a young man arrived in the town and announced that he was the ninth descendant. The voice was heard again, threatening vengeance. In fear the people fled indoors but it was of no avail, for suddenly there was an inrush of water and the whole town was overwhelmed in a large lake. Above the waters could be seen only a few chimneys, still smoking. On the surface were found gloves of the murdered man, which floated towards the newly-formed shore. There they were deposited at the feet of the young descendant. A voice was heard in the sky praising God.

To this day the legend has it that, on a quiet day when the water is clear the houses of the old town can be seen at the bottom of the lake; and if one listens carefully the bells of the old church can be heard ringing-- always, it is said, just before a storm.

It is a pity to spoil a good story, in this case, it would be historically satisfying to do so; and a glance at the sketch-map will do this. The old town of Kenfig was quite a way from the lake and so the houses can not possibly be under the water: and, even if it were physically possible for the bells to be heard ringing underneath the water, it will be seen that the town’s church of St. James was nowhere near the pool.

This information will doubtlessly do nothing to dispel the stories of the bells ringing under the water which local children still tell today.

Louvain: "As a child a remember visiting Kenfig Pool with the junior school that was attending at the time. I will always remember standing in the water looking for the houses, chimneys’ and listening out for the church bells!"

Illustration by Margaret Wooding

The Buried City of Kenfig



Kenfig was once nothing more than a collection of wooden huts by the edge of marshy land, hence it’s original Welsh name Cefn-y-ffignon, a corruption meaning a ridge on a marsh (Gray maintained it was Cen-y-fig, head of the swamp.) The Welsh lord Iestyn ap Cwrgan had been the owner of this land but he was defeated by the Norman conqueror of Glamorgan, Robert FitzHamon, who built a motte and bailey to defend the area (probably on the site of Iestyn’s earlier castle). The motte was later converted into a stone shell keep around which the medieval town of Kenfig grew. The town itself was then developed by the Normans with the deliberate intention of making it the trading area of mid-Glamorgan-- ‘A towne for marchandize upon the sea bankes of Kynfege’.

This points to the fact that Kenfig in those days had an outlet to the sea, probably via the Kenfig River.

Kenfig suffered badly from the raids of the disinherited Welsh Lords of Afon, especially Morgan Gam. It was burned down so often that the inhabitants built a stockade around the perimeter of the town only to have it struck by lightening and burnt down again. Even the great Llywelyn had a go at it, leaving the place in ruins and later Owain Glyndwr destroyed it. Once again the town was built but as time went on the enemy became not the Welsh but sand.  A series of great storms, beginning about the year 1300, followed by a long period of drifting sand, slowly but surely made life impossible for the inhabitants; and by the end of the fifteenth century it was  a ghost town. In Leland’s time (the sixteenth century) it was nothing more than ‘a little village on the est side of Kenfik and a castel booth in ruine and almost shokid (chocked) and devoured with the Sandes that the Severn Se there castith up’.

Any buried city is bound to have a legend, especially if it is situated near a large expanse of still water. Such pools or lakes invariably have legends in their own right, but before relating this it would be as well to ascertain certain facts. Kenfig was indeed a town of importance in the Middle Ages. By a charter its burgesses were allowed to levy their own taxes and make their own laws. The town had a High Street which had to be kept clean (‘Noe butchers shat cast noe heads, feet nor none other garbage’); a Guildhall, which they were so proud of that they would not allow base prisoners to enter its cells; and even a hospital. They had strict ordinances about food and drink (‘Brewers must brew good ale’ and ‘bakers good bread’) and weights and measures were carefully controlled by correct master-measures. The more east-going inhabitants might have objected to the law which said ‘Noe manner of person shall play dice, cardes, bowles nor no other unlawful games’ but surely could not have quarrelled with the rules against ‘brawlers and fighters who drew blood’. That menace, the talkative woman was  dealt with too:‘If six men find any woman guilty of scolding or railing…. she is to sit on the cucking (ducking) stool one hour and for the seconds fault two hours…’ They had the right to hold fairs and the big event was the mabsant, the annual holiday on Saint’s day, kept in Kenfig in November, for their patron and benefactor was St. James, after whom the town’s buried church had been named.

Nearby were the marshes. The great storms of the fourteenth century threw up a surrounding ridge of sand hills and the marsh gradually became a lake of between seventy and eighty acres about 1000 yards form the sea shore. The water is fresh from springs and there must be some sort of drainage under the continually moving sand. Like the dew ponds of Cornwall and other lakes of Wales this quiet stretch of water is the centre of a legendary story connected, as might be expected, with the nearby buried ‘city’.


Illustration by Margaret Wooding

Kenfig




Kenfig is situated next to the coast of Glamorgan, just a short distance from Pyle.

The earliest reference that we have of Kenfig is in a document dated 1141-7.
Archaeological evidence has suggested that Kenfig has been occupied since the time of the Romans. Evidence that supports this includes finds of Roman pottery, a roof tile and -a coin with a depiction of the emperor Constans (337 - 350AD) upon it. There is also a Roman road that runs through the borough of Kenfig which includes milestones at Margam and Pyle. The milestones carry the inscriptions of  both emperors Postumus (259 – 268 A.D.) and Victorinus (268 - 270 A.D.) The surrounding landscape has fetched finds including Neolithic arrowheads, a dwelling and burial urn which have led many people to believe that Kenfig has been occupied for at least 4000 years.

It is thought that many Iron Age settlements were constructed near the North and East of Kenfig. The people that inhabited the area at that time were known as ‘Silures’. These ‘Silures’ were a powerful tribe that existed during the time of ancient Britain, occupying Glamorganshire and Breconshire amongst other areas of South Wales, and it is thought that they also held occupancy in Gloucestershire and Hereforshire.  The ‘Silures’ in this area of Glamorgan were led by Bodvoc, the son of Caitegern. The ‘Silures’ made a fierce resistance against the Roman invaders including imprisoning them and taking some as hostages. Although we can see that the hatred towards the Romans was very vivid it is thought that rather than being defeated by the Romans they actually came to terms with the Romans and their occupation.

With the Roman’s converting to Christianity during 315 AD most of the pagan tribes of Kenfig were forced to trade their usual lives and God’s for a more Christian and Roman life.  By 410AD the Roman Empire was losing its importance with  troops from Britain being sent to fight in Rome. This eventually opened the doors to various groups of raiders including the Irish, the Angles, the Saxons and Vikings. It is thought that the Vikings may have settled at Kenfig with the names ‘Sker’ and ‘Kenfig’ having Viking origin.

By the 11th century the Normans had invaded Britain, Glamorgan was no exception.
Glamorgan was conquered by  Robert FitzHamon and his ‘Twelve Knights’ during c.1075.
He took control of the surrounding areas including Kenfig, there a wooden castle was built along with a Church dedicated to St James. A town was then later established. On the 13th of January 1167, the town was raided forcing the castle to be replaced with a stone tower that  would dominate Kenfig for the next 300 years.

The dissolution of the monasteries during the time of King Henry VIII forced many of the monks of Kenfig and the nearby Margam Abbey to flee the area. All the property then became the property of the Crown.  The areas were then sold to various buyers. The areas of Margam, Pyle, Stormy, Kenfig Higher and the coal pits of Cefn Cribbwr were sold in 1546 to a Sir Rice Mansel of Oxwich and Penrice of the Gower. The Lordship of Kenfig belonged to King Henry VIII at that time but was sold to Sir William Herbert, the First Earl of Pembroke c.1550.

The 1570 survey of Kenfig shows that there were several tenants holding land within the area, these include:


  • Richard Thomas: Holding the Grange at Marlas and 15 burgages in the Old Town.
  • William Jenkin Armiger: Holding ground at Kenfig Pool.



The population during the early part of the 1600’s was around 200 people. This included a church and village at Maudlam, a few house at Ton Kenfig and the Sker estate which was being occupied by the Turberville family.
In 1607 there was a very violent storm which led to many people of that area losing their lives, when the lowlands became flooded.

During the mid 17th century only one cottage near ‘Old Kenfig’ held occupants.

Sir William Herbert later (1668) sold his estate, which included the castle to Sir Edward Mansel of Margam for the sum of £520.

The  Mansel-Talbot family inherited both of these until the estate was later broken up during 1941.


Time Team at Kenfig: Aired 18/03/2012 


Read More About Kenfig's History 


Images: Kenfig Castle, Donovan (1805) 
Tribes of Wales at the Time of the Roman Invasion
King Henry VIII 

Cwltrin: an Aid for Hen-Pecked Husbands


The ‘y ceffyl pren’  or Cwtrin is thought to have evolved from an ancient Welsh Law that was abolished during the Tudor times. The ‘y ceffyl pren’  was a common humiliation tool used during both the eighteenth and nineteenth century.  This form of humiliation involved the ‘offender’ being bound to a wooden frame or ‘wooden horse’ and being paraded through the streets of his/her community.


A description of ‘y ceffyl pren’ from the papers of the Mathias Family of Pendelio:

'Wooden horse: a ladder used as a stretcher in former years for carrying a person, tied thereon, around the district so as to expose them for some great sin, or disgraceful act which they had committed. The leading carriers were all masked so as to disguise their identity, and it was part of their programme to stick pins in the person tied on the wooden horse, as well as to torture them in other ways. It was the same in principle as the ducking stool of olden times, and was in later years replaced by a burning of a person's effigy, which consisted of an image made with a stick and old rags (a kind of Aunt Sally) which was saturated with oil or tar and then put fire to - the crowds around singing loudly, "We'll hang old ---- on the sour apple tree", using the name of the person desired to be exposed.'

One example of this punishment happening is in the community of Craig-y-Borion, Pembrokeshire.

The paper goes on to describe what happen in Craig-y-Borion:

'The last wooden horse carried in Amroth was that of Miss ---- who had betrayed her trust as a Governess, with Mrs Severn of Great Craig-y-borion; the wooden horse proposed emanating from Mrs Severn and her lady companions in the district, who well paid the gang of men who in disguised attire carried the ladder around from Gt Craig-y-borion up around the Folly cross, thence to and through Amroth village, around Summer Hill to her home, or rather lodgings, at C.borion.'


'As a result, Mr Severn eloped with the Governess on the following day and never returned to Amroth again. This was about the year 1852. Several effigies have been burnt since in Amroth, the last being in Oct. 1892.'

Below is an account by Alun Morgan of how the ‘y ceffyl pren’ would have happened in Newton-Nottage.


The custom called ‘cwltrin’, also known as ‘coolstrin’ and ‘y ceffyl pren’ (the wooden horse) was so well known throughout Glamorgan in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries that there is little doubt it was performed in the parish of Newton-Nottage and so must be included in this book. It was an effective cure for a nagging or bulling wife and the treatment was carried out by the entire village. This is how it worked:

If a husband considered himself badly treated by his spouse he had a right to complain to the elders. The elders (being men) would give him a sympathetic hearing and, if they considered the man to have made out a case, would then form themselves into a ‘court’, complete with judge. The judge, wearing the collar-bone of a horse on his head and bedecked with a quilted eiderdown would then lead the ‘officers’, armed with long white wands, and any of the other villagers who wished to take part, to the home of the quarrelling couple. There they would have a full debate on the subject. Sometimes tow men would impersonate the husband and wife, the ‘husband’ carrying a broom and the ‘wife’ a ladle. They would have a set-to with their implements and, if blood was drawn, the man impersonating the wife was dragged around the village on a roughly made wooden horse. This was proof of the wife’s guilt made plain for the entire community to see. The crowd would then hoist two standards in the air on long poles; a petticoat and a pair of breeches, and would then return to the house to dispute. There the petticoat was pelted with rotten eggs and fruit and, when completely torn and bedraggled, was replaced by the triumphant breeches. This ended the treatment and from then on the wife was expected to reform.

Unfortunately no records exist which would enlighten us as to how effective and long-lasting the treatment was but some of the wives of the parish of Newton-Nottage must have been veritable viragos is shown in Redwood’s Vale of Glamorgan, first published in 1839.
In an account of a cwltrin ceremony described in that book the villager appointed as judge relates:
‘There, you see! What with their (the women’s) glavering and coaxing, we (the men) are in a perilous condition! And I only wonder how the world has gone on so long without their kicking us right out of it. You know, neighbours, what the old people, and they were no fools, used to say about the stones of Newton Down: that in the moon the women, in their vagaries turned upon men, when she was at the full, and flung them right down; and that they turned to stones as they fell, and pitched there, to be a constant warning to us.’ 

Now we known why there are so many stones on Newton Down.


Illustration by Margaret Wooding


Source of the papers of Mathias Family

The 16th (Service) Battalion, Welsh Regiment


On September the 14th, 1914 David Lloyd George performed a “rousing” speech calling for the formation of a separate Welsh Army. A few weeks later the War Office agreed that the NEC (National Executive Committee) should take responsibility for the organisation of the Welsh Army. Three battalions were already in formation (13th Royal Welch Fusiliers and the 10th and 14th Welsh Regiment) but permission was refused to incorporate the other former units for example 11th Welsh (Cardiff Pals Commercial). This called for a new battalion to be formed.

On the 19th of November, 1914 the War Office had given it’s sanction to the new battalion, then on the 23rd the recruiting began. The recruiting campaign for this new battalion involved military demonstrations, public meetings, open air concerts, appeals in the work place, at the picture houses and at football matches throughout Cardiff and it’s surrounding areas. Overall the open air concerts proved to be the best way of recruiting men.

Placed in Command of the 16th Battalion was Captain Frank Gaskell and by the time this all came together The Great War had already being going on for 16 weeks.

The battalion was known and still is known as the ‘Cardiff Battalion’ or ‘The Cardiff Boys’ but in actual fact many of it’s recruits came from other areas of South Wales.

The battalion was known to have strong links with Cardiff Rugby Club as a few of it’s internationals joined, including Major Fred Smith who took command after the death of Captain Frank Gaskell on May 17th, 1916.

During the November of 1914 the 16th (Service) Battalion became attached to the 130th Brigade in the 43rd Division. Later in April, 1915 the formation became the 115th Brigade in the 38th (Welsh) Division.

The 115th Brigade included;
2nd Bn Royal Welsh Fusiliers: 1918 -1918
17th Bn Royal Welsh Fusiliers: 1915 - 1918
10th South Wales Borderers: 1914 - 1918
11th Bn South Wales Borderers: 1915 - 1918 (Disbanded)
16th Bn Welch Regiment: 1914 - 1918 (Disbanded)



Towards the end of December, 1914 the battalion was moved from Porthcawl to Colwyn Bay, North Wales. The next eight months were spent there training before they were moved to Winchester in August 1915 with other units of the 38th (Welsh) Divison. They had their finally visit to Cardiff in the November of that year before embarking to France on the 4th of December, 1915.

The 16th (Service) Battalion War Diary shows that they were in the following places on the following dates:

·         Southampton:4/12/1915
·         Harve:5/12/1915
·         St. Quentin:6/12/1915
·         Robecq:21/12/1915
·         St. Vasst:30/12/1915
·         Robecq:7/1/1916
·         Riez Bailleul:16/1/1916
·         Croix Marmuse:25/1/1916
·         La Pannerie:16/2/16
·         Locon:17/2/1916
·         Festubert:24/2/1916
·         Les Choqeaux:17/3/16
·         Gorre:25/3/1916
·         Givenchy Lez La Bassee:28/3/1916
·         Leschoqvaux:10/4/1916
·         Nevuf Berquin Estaires:14/4/1916
·         Laventie:16/4/16
·         La Gorque:1/5/1916
·         Riez ?: 9/5/1916
·         Moated Grange Sector:13/5/1916
·         Riez Bailleul:18/5/1916
·         Moated Grange Sector:22/5/1916
·         La Gorque:26/5/1916
·         Laventie:5/6/1916
·         La Gorque:10/6/1916
·         Robecq:11/6/1916
·         Auchel:14/6/1916
·         Monchy Breton:15/6/1916
·         Fortel:27/6/1916
·         Autheux:28/6/1916
·         Toutencourt:30/6/1916
·         Auheux:3/7/1916
·         Buires/L’Ancre:4/7/1916
·         Carnoy:5/7/1916

The battalion experienced major loses in the Battle for Mametz Wood. Most of these casualties occurred on the 7th of July, 1916 when the battalion came under heavy machine gun fire from Flatrion Copse and Sabot Copse.

Below is an entry taken from the 16th (Service) Battalion War Diary dated 7th July, 1916.

“8.30am Bn. under orders drawn up on their own side of slope facing MAMETZ WOOD in lines of platoons with a 2 platoon frontage. 11/SWB in support 10/SWB in reserve. Our artillery ceased firing at wood at 8.30am + first lines of Bn. proceeded over the crest of the slope but came instantly under heavy machine gun frontal fire from MAMETZ WOOD, enfilade fire from FLATIRON COPSE + SABOT COPSE + the German Second System, which now between MAMETZ WOOD + BAZENTIN LE PETIT WOOD, Bn. suffered heavily + has to withdraw to their own side of crest. Bn. made two more attacks but position was much too exposed for any hope or success + orders were received to cease operation. 11/SWB attempted to approach the wood through a gulley running between CATERPILLAR WOOD, slope mentioned above but machine gun fire drove them back. Our losses:- 6offs, killed, 6 wounded, 268 OR’s killed, missing or wounded. Weather very wet, this adding greatly to exhaustion of troops Bn. received orders to return to their Bivouac. Moved off 10.30pm Arrived 4.am 8/7/16”

The men who survived Mametz went to fight in the following places:

·         Warloy:13/7/1916
·         Couin:14/7/1916
·         Hebuterne Sect:15/7/1916
·         Courcelles:19/7/1916
·         Hebuterne Sect:22/7/1916
·         Courcelles:27/7/1916
·         Vauchelles:28/7/1916
·         Siomer?:31/7/1916
·         Millam:1/8/1916
·         Merckeghem:4/8/1916
·         Ypres:19/8/1916

The battalion also sustained heavy loses in the Third Battle for Ypres.

(After those dates I am unable to read the writing on the War Diary).

The battalion later disbanded on the 27th of February, 1918.

As the following extract from that day shows.
“From today the 16th/Welch ceases to exist as a battalion” 27th February 1918.


Further Reading:




An Interview with Albert Evans, British private 16th Battalion Welch Regiment





The group photograph is an image of a few of the men including Frederick Rowlands who served with the 16th (Service) Battalion.

The Ghosts of Sker



As might be expected with two stories like that, Sker House has its ghosts. The spectre of the original maid has been seen (according to local folk) in an upstairs room - the one that she had been imprisoned in by her father. Her appearance is noisy for, when she materialises, the sound of clanking chains is heard. Blackmore’s Maid also had a secret place within the house known as the  Abbot’s Walk. There the ghost of a monk is seen, a quarrelsome fellow who fell out with his Holy brethren and came to an untimely end. His spectre is said to groan in the middle of the night.

A frequent visitor to Sker is a great stone. This stone, thought to be a prehistoric relic lying in a field off Water Street, is said to visit Sker Beach every Christmas morning before cock crow. It goes to the water’s edge, has a drink, then returns to its normal sight. Anyone who is unfortunate enough to cross its path has a terrible fate.

Then there is the *Gwrach y Rhibyn*, the hag of the Mists. This is a  lost soul who wanders about the dunes between Sker and Kenfig uttering terrible cries which are a portent of death; and local folk in the  last century went in fear of her. If she were not seen there was always the chance of meeting the spectre of a white horse. If encountered on the night of the new moon (Blackmore mentions this in his Maid of Sker) the beholder has the certainty of a dreadful end before twelve months have passed.
Finally there is the *‘Cyhiraeth’*, a ghostly wailing or shrieking sound that brings fear into the hearts of all who hear it for it is the certain harbinger of a coming storm or wreck. The Cyhiraeth was well known throughout Wales and so will be described in more detail later. Suffice it to say at this point that anyone who come under the spell if the area around Sker is able to understand why it is that such stories and legends came into being and have persisted for such a long time.

*Cyhiraeth* or Cyhyraeth is a ghostly spirit in Welsh Mythology, a disembodied wailing or shrieking voice that sounds before a persons death. Along the Glamorgan Coast the Cyhiraeth is said to be heard before a shipwreck accompanied by a corpse-light.

*Gwrach y Rhibyn* a monsterous Welsh spirit that comes in the form of an ugly woman, therefore sparking the saying "Y mae mor salw â Gwrach y Rhibyn" -  “She is as ugly as the Gwrach y Rhibyn” describing a woman “without looks”. It is said that she approaches the window of a person about to die by night and calls their name. She is also said to travel with a person close to death and utter her cries as they approach a stream or crossroads.
The Gwrach y Rhibyn is known to wail the following words;
Fy ngŵr, fy ngŵr!" (My husband! My husband!) or
"Fy mhlentyn, fy mhlentyn bach!" (My child! My little child!),  she may even  sometimes assume a male's voice and cry "Fy ngwraig! Fy ngwraig!" (My wife! My wife!).

Original Maid of Sker
Blackmore's Maid of Sker



Illustration by Margaret Wooding


Blackmore’s Maid of Sker

Richard Doddridge Blackmore or R.D. Blackmore was born in the June of 1825 to John Blackmore and his wife Anne Bassett. He is said to be one on the most famous English novelists of his generation. His other writings include: Craddock Nowell, Lorna Downe, Alice Lorraine, Kit and Kitty and Tales from a Telling House. He died in the January of 1900 aged 74. He is remembered by a memorial at Exeter Cathedral.

Below is R.D. Blackmore's 'Maid of Sker' as told by Alun Morgan.

*These views are not mine but they are the views of the author (Alun Morgan) and this story is not meant to cause offence*




This story has not the slightest resemblance to the previous one and is a romance pure and simple. R.D Blackmore  (1825 - 1900) was the son of John Blackmore and Anne Bassett of Nottage Court. He spent his boyhood at Nottage and came to love the region with an intensity which was surpassed only by his love for Devon and Exmoor. His Maid of Sker appeared first in 1872 so the original legend must have been known to him, although he owes nothing to it.

Anyone who reads Maid of Sker today will probably be disappointed. Only a small portion of the books deals with the heroine herself; the rest is taken up by the exploits of tehr hero, old David Llewelyn  of Newton - Nottage, fisherman and sailor. Already old when the story begins, living in retirement in a cottage facing Newton Green, he nevertheless manages to rejoin the navy to fight in the French wars for a further period of eighteen years. Even for Newtonians, well known for their persistence and longevity, this was stretching it a bit. The truth is that Blackmore’s plot was poorly contrived, and had to be bent and twisted into shape as the story proceeds with the result that the reader has to swallow many improbabilities. This, of course, is nothing new with Victorian writers; Dickens was just as bad at times. The story of the ’Maid’ therefore veers bewilderingly between Sker, Newton and Barnstaple, with huge chunks of life at sea thrown in. Blackmore’s treatment of the heroine, with her dreadful lips (’I’se Bardie. Didn’ta know that? I waited so yong’) also grates, as does his tendency to sprawl. Nevertheless, although not as well told as Lorna Doone (which appeared three years before the ’Maid’ and which was regarded by Blackmore as inferior) the Glamorganshire romance is still worth reading for its description of storms and the countryside around the coast of the two counties which the author loved the most of all.

One summer’s night in 1782, David Llewelyn, fisherman and retired sailor of his Majesty’s Navy, leaves his cottage at Newton and goes to do some illegal fishing off Sker Point. The old house is the residence of a coarse farmer called ‘Black’ Evan Thomas, his kind but slovenly wife, Moxy and their six sons. Davy, not to be caught by ‘Black’ Evans, waits until nightfall and, when the sea is glowing with phosphorusm he begins to fish only to see a small white boat drifting towards the rocks, He catches the bat with his line, draws it in and finds ‘a wee maiden, all in white, having neither cloak nor shawl, nor any other soft appliance to comfort and protect her.’ He takes the little girl (two years old) to Sker House and begs the Evans family to look after her for the night.

He rows the little boat back to Newton and hides it near the old Red House, hoping to keep it for himself. Next day he returns to Sker to see how his ‘find’ is getting on, but suddenly a terrible sand-storm develops, the like if which he had never seen before. He sees a ship being driven ashore - a big foreign one this time - and several bodies are washed up on to the beach, most of them being negroes; but one is a young boy wearing a pinafore on which is embroidered  a crest. Davy assumes the boy to be a brother of the little girl he had previously rescued but has no time to think about it for the storm intensifies, with many funnels of wind whipping sand and sea into a fury. Later he finds that the sand has buried and killed five sons of ‘Black Evans’.

Next day there is an inquest at Sker House. The negroes are heaped into a mass grave but the five sons are given a decent Christian burial. The coroner cannot solve the mystery of the dead boy in the crested pinafore. Soon Davy is visited by an important person, Sir Philip Bampfylfe of Narton Court, Devon. Sir Philip examines Davy’s newly gained boat (the name of which the crafty old sea salt has obliterated) but unaccountably refuses to go to Sker  to see the little girl because the roads are so bad (the first example of Blackmore’s lack of plot planning).

Colonel Lougher of Candleston Court and his sister then appear. They go on a picnic to Sker and discover the Maid who has now made herself at home there and claims her name is Bardie. In the meantime Davy joins the crew of a ketch Rose of Devon trading between Barnstaple and Porthcawl. On the other side of the Channel, at Braunton Burrows, he sees  the strange figure of a man searching among the sand-dunes. It turns out that this man is Sir Philip Bampfylde who spends most of his time looking for his two grandchildren who have mysteriously disappeared. Back in Barnstaple Davy meets Parson Chowne, a frightening, spiteful character who suddenly shows a mysterious interest in the boy who drowned at Sker Beach. Chowne is the head of  ‘the naked people’, a cowed lot who always do the parson’s bidding. (how they existed in the winter with icy draughts coming down for Exmoor is not explained: Blackmore was still under the influence of Carver Doone, his villain of  Lorna Donne.
Davy sets up in business as a ferryman at Barnstaple and meets Captain Drake Bamfylde, the son of Sir Philip, who is suspected of murdering the two grandchildren and burying their bodies on Braunton Burrows. He returns to Newton to find Bardie ill, takes her to his cottage and there ‘the air of Newton saved her’. A long period in the navy follows when Davy eventually gets back the maid is twelve years old and attracting the attention of Lieutenant Bluett, the son of Colonel Lougher’s sister. A brief trip to Barnstaple follows and Davy, leading a press gang, carries off some of the naked people and forces them to serve before the mast. One of them is a young lad whom the sailors christen Harry Savage.
A further long period at sea follows and ends only when Davy loses and arm in a battle with the French. He returns to Newton, where he is treated as a hero, and is pleased to see that the aristocratic Bluett is now more interested in his charge, but is also horrified to learn that the occupant if Candleston Court, although fond of Bardie, view with apprehension the prospect of their heir marrying basely. Accordingly our hero sets out for Barnstaple with the object of solving all the mysteries, for he is sure that the Maid is of noble birth. He arrives just in time to find Chowne dying after being bitten by a mad dog, and extracts confessions all round. It transpires that it was Chowne who had abducted the grandchildren; he had forced the boy to become one of his naked people but the little girl had been lost when the boat which he was using had slipped out to sea. He had then completed the black deed by disguising himself as Captain Bampflyde and burying two dolls on the Braunton Boroughs, thus throwing suspicion on an innocent person.

Sir Philip Bampflyde returns to Newton with Davy and identifies the Maid by her fingernails. She is of course, Miss Bertha Bampflyde and her brother Harry Savage, late of the naked people, is Philip, heir to the title. Old Davy’s stolen boat is scrutinised and proved to have been Barnstaple made. The way is therefore open for the heroine to marry the man of her choice and link up two noble families. Old Davy, well content with his efforts, retires once more to his cottage, sallying forth only to tell stories to the children of Newton Green.

Thus for everyone in the story with the exception of the villainous Chowne, has a happy ending.


You can read the full version of R.D. Blackmore's 'Maid of Sker' here.

Illustration by Margaret Wooding
Image: Exeter Cathedral Memorial

The Story of Cap Goch



It is thought that the New Inn owned by the notorious Cap Goch (Red Cap) was situated on the Laleston side of the River Ogmore. The Inn no longer exists today as it was demolished around eighty years after his death. It was initially thought that Cap Goch died peacefully at the age of ninety but evidence has come to light confirming he was actually hung on Stalling Down, near Cowbridge of the charge of stealing a single sheep. Not much is known about Cap Goch’s life other than his involvement in crime as his real name seems to be a mystery.

Below is the story of Cap Goch as told by Alun Morgan


This is a true story but it is so macabre that it has become a legend.


The New Inn was well situated with an eye to business. It stood in a little hollow on the track that led from Bridgend to Merthyr Mawr not far from the main road (the by-pass today). The main road stopped at Ogmore River and the passengers on the stage coaches from the west had to alight, cross over at the ford and catch another coach at Ewenny for London. (The main bridge at Bridgend was not built until 1825). Because if the break in the road, most travellers went by foot or on horseback. Many of these were packmen, with or without a mule, carrying valuable merchandise such as flannel, wool, skins and stockings (Bridgend was then the centre of the South Wales wool and stocking industry). The New Inn was a natural stopping place for these journeymen and many of them went there expecting a pleasant night’s sojourn. None of them suspected that the night was to be their last on earth. 


The licencee of the inn was known as Cap Goch form the head gear he wore. Having been to France and in sympathy with the French Revolutionary movement, he insisted on wearing the red stockinet cap of the so-called freedom fighters. Very powerful, looking like a country yokel with his grey eyes, red hair and bland face, he nevertheless managed to attract around him a gang of smugglers and outlaws. These men made frequent forays along the main road, picking off the odd lone traveller, but their richest harvest gleaned within the inn itself.


Suspicion fell on the inn first when bodies were discovered at the mouth of the River Ogmore. The finding of these bodies always seemed to coincide with the disappearance of packmen. But there were no police in those days, and suspicion remained conjecture. Cap Goch and his confederates waxed richer and richer, the goods of the murdered travellers finding a ready market among the people of the town. The mysterious disappearances went on for many years until, legend has it, Cap Goch died peacefully in 1820 at the age on ninety, a busy and lucrative life completed. Historical fact however, shows that he was hanged on Stalling Down, near Cowbridge, on the charge of stealing a sheep. A few years later the main bridge was constructed in the town centre and the purpose of the New Inn was lost. It fell into decay, crumbling away in its wooden dell.


An ancient bridge crosses the  river near where the inn had been situated; it is now known as the Merthyr Mawr Dipping Bridge.*


Early this century the dilapidated remains of the inn were demolished completely and then the truth came to light. A cave was found near the kitchen and in it were the remains of some booty Cap Goch and his murderous thugs had gained. The garden was then dug up and it was found that bodies had been buried there in twos and threes at every conceivable spot. In one grave several skeletons were unearthed. The search continued beyond the confines of the house to reveal many more corpses, even in the fields some distance away, Obviously Cap Goch had heeded rumours over the finds in the Ogmore River and disposed of his victims in a safer place - safe enough for his guilt not to be proved until eighty years after his death. 

*The Merthyr Mawr Dipping Bridge or New Inn Bridge, was built during the 15th century long before the time of The New Inn. The holes in the parapets were used for pushing sheep into the river to clean their wool. Nowadays in the summer months the bridge is used by people from all over the area who enjoy swimming and jumping off the bridge into the water.*


The Legends of Porthcawl and the Glamorgan Coast
Author:  Alun Morgan 
Illustration: Margaret Wooding 
Image: Merthyr Mawr Dipping Bridge


Sker House



Sker House which is said to be one of the oldest houses in the district, sits  three miles away North of Porthcawl and two miles South of Margam and Port Talbot.
The story of Sker House starts over 900 years ago when it was a Monastic Grange home to the Cistercian monks of Neath Abbey. At that time Sker would have contained a barn, a chapel for worship and accommodation for the monks. Sker’s later occupants have included Richard Lougher, Gwellian Turberville - wife of Watkin Lougher, Jenkin Turberville and Christopher Turberville. Sker House was then passed into the hands of  a series of absentee landlords.

During the time of Queen Elizabeth I, the Tuberville’s being staunch Roman Catholic  used the house the as a refuge for fugitive priests  and for holding clandestine service. It is thought that Jenkin Turberville died (d. 1597) protecting his faith when evidence came to light that he was harbouring Jesuit priests and promoting Catholicism in Glamorgan.
Christopher Tuberville was facing so much persecution because of his faith that he sold Sker House during 1697 and went into exile abroad.

There are many stories linked to Sker House, the first of which is told by Alun Morgan below.

The Original Maid of Sker


This story first appeared written in Welsh with the title ‘Y Ferch o’r Scer’ and, as is usual with Welsh stories, its origins are obscure. The earliest reference to a love-lorn maid appears in 1806 in a translation by the historian William Davies of Neath of the words of a Welsh air composed by a Harper. There is doubt as to who this Harper was but it seems likely that he was Thomas Evans of the parish of Newton-Nottage. Further information about the story was then obtained by Thomas Morgan of Maesteg from an old woman of Maudlam who said she knew the Maid and it is her version that has generally been accepted. There are doubts about the authenticity of the story, however, and Mr. Leslie Evans in his book Sker House valiantly wrestles with the problem. His researches uncovered two descendants of the so-called Maid who hotly averred that the heroine had been happily married, It is a pity to spoil a good story, however, and this is the original account of Y Ferch o’r Sker.

Isaac Williams of Sker had tow daughters, Mary and Elizabeth. Elizabeth (the  Maid) was tall, beautiful and loved dancing. She used to wait impatiently for the Gwyl Mabsant to come round, the annual festival to commemorate the local saint (Saint  Mary Magdalene, hence the name Maudlam). The celebrations took place in the Town Hall of Kenfig (today the Prince of Wales Inn) when the harpist would  appear and play throughout the night. Everyone attended, even the old women who now preferred knitting, but the youngsters thought it despicable if they failed to dance continually until the dawn. 

One fateful year the harpist was Thomas Evans of Newton-Nottage, who was always in great demand. The sight of the tall attractive girl must have quickened his pulse and his music, for he fell in love immediately; and to his joy he saw that Elizabeth was not averse to his approaches. They made the most of the evening together and by dawn they were lovers. 

But Isaac Williams, when he heard if the associations, was furious, after all he was a gentleman farmer and Thomas Evans was a mere carpenter, however good his music. Undeterred the harpist hired a carriage and pair, and stealthily approached Sker House at night, hoping for an elopement. Unfortunately the dogs heard him and quickly the old house was alight as candles and lamps were lit. Poor Thomas though it best to retreat. The father locked the Maid in her room and she was not allowed to leave the house for a long period of time. But she still pined for her lover so Isaac Williams forced her to marry Mr. Kirkhouse of Neath.

As with most forced marriages Elizabeth never forgot the man she had favoured and so there was constant friction between her and her husband. She sought out the harper whenever he was in the region and once Mr. Kirkhouse caught them together. The story has an unhappy ending, for within nine years of the marriage the Maid was dead; dying, presumably of a broken heart. She was buried at Llansamlet on January 6th 1776. The tombstone that marked her grave has disappeared and lies buried in an unknown part of the churchyard. Thomas Evans, however was made of sterner stuff, for although he, too pined for his lover for the rest of his life, he eventually married in his fiftieth year and had several children. His end came much later in  1819, when, playing at a ball in Nottage Court, he collapsed and died a few weeks afterwards. He is buried at Newton churchyard.

How much of this story is true and how much is fiction we do not know.
The story of Y Ferch o’r Sker has a remarkable resemblance to that other tear-jerking legend, The Maid of Cefn Ydfa. In this story another lowly born bard, Wil Hopcyn, was prevented from marrying Ann Thomas, the daughter of a well-to-to farmer at Llangynwyd. Poor Ann like Elizabeth Williams, was forced to marry another man and died of a broken  heart in her lover’s arms. Wil Hopcyn, not being as robust as Thomas Evans, also pined away, meeting his death later when he fell off a ladder whilst carrying out his trade as a thatcher. It would be fair to end in saying that such stories, whether there was an element of truth in them or not, were repeated, in various forms, throughout the Principality. They were the stock plot of the nineteenth century.

The Legends of Porthcawl and the Glamorgan Coast
Author:  Alun Morgan 
Illustration: Margaret Wooding 
Images:  Sker House  The Maid of Cefn Ydfa



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