Roman Bath: a natural phenomenon - a few facts!

A Famous Site/Sight
  Everyone is familiar with the spectacle of this ancient Roman bath in Bath with steam rising atmospherically from the hot water. Most people know that this falls as rain on the Mendip Hills, percolating down several thousand feet where geothermal energy raises its temperature to between 69 and 96 degrees C. It is then forced upwards through fissures in the limestone and 1,170,000 litres of it emerge here at 46 degrees C every day (117 F) from the aptly named Pennyquick fault. In old money that is about a quarter of a million gallons per diem. It contains 43 minerals including the iron which colours the stone, magnesium and calcium.  Put differently, 13 litres per second flow in, cool down a little and join the flow out to the river, thus constantly refreshing the pool every 8 hours.
   It was the energetic Victorians who uncovered the site and erected embellishments such as the statues. Before the Romans, the Celts had worshipped here, paying tribute to Sul (m) / Sulis (f) as they were not too particular as to the gender of their gods. They cultivated a layer of dirt on the skin as protection but the Romans were more picky about cleanliness and also disliked the swampy territory which they drained effectively.
  Nowadays there are 4 main features of the site: the Sacred Spring; the Roman Temple; the Roman Bath House and the Museum. The flintstones on view, found in the Spring, indicate prehistoric inhabitants.

The Sacred Spring overflow

Did You Know?
   The statues of Roman emperors and generals are mostly Victorian but that of Julius Caesar is more modern. He tried twice to conquer Britain but it was the unlikely Claudius who succeeded. It is therefore only proper that the statue of Caesar was pushed into the pool in the 20th century and that his absence was not noticed for several days as it lay in pieces at the bottom of the water. A third humiliation!
  The Romans knew that dirt was linked to disease and, because doctors were expensive, bathing and healing by the gods were favoured. This water was believed to treat many diseases including gout and leprosy, a term which was loosely interpreted to cover any skin disease. People came from France, Italy, North Africa and Belgium to be cured.
   There was a roof over the 5ft deep pool - which would have made the site quite dark - and the bath floor is lined with 45 sheets of Roman lead. In some of the alcoves the brickwork (which would have been brightly painted) and mortar are original and signs can be seen of secondary raised paving where the Health and Safety experts decreed its necessity.

   These spoil sports are still around today and bathing is forbidden, although I could not resist trying to cause alarm. Yet no-one has found a way of telling the pigeons about this and, every morning, when all is quiet, these birds come to disport themselves. I have had many a lively discussion with my elder daughter on the issue of pigeons receiving the Dickin medal for services rendered in WWII, her point being that they are too stupid to recognise danger and therefore demonstrate courage. Any creature that knows where to take a daily hot mineral-laden bath is clever by my reckoning and the 3 that helped to save stranded airmen deserved their recognition in Dec. 1943 for "conspicuous gallantry or devotion to duty." Rats also like to exercise and swim lengths at dawn but have never been thus celebrated.
  Businesses grew around the baths to meet the needs and desires of visitors: massage, olive oil, towel rental, beauty treatments, snacks such as oysters, fish sauces, honey and mead all contributed to a Grand Day Out.
  The Romans, although doubtless cruel at times, did make attempts to integrate with the locals and here amalgamated one of their gods with corresponding features to that of the conquered, leading to the creation of Sulis Minerva, the female characteristics winning through.
   The baths were probably very noisy: Seneca describes the din caused by the grunting, hissing and gasping of dumb-bell swingers, smacking sounds made during a massage, a loud argument with a pickpocket, a yelp as someone has his armpits plucked and the calls of the sausage vendor.

The workings

   Soap was quite a late German invention and was avoided at first by the Romans because they thought it reddened the hair. Instead they used oil often mixed with fuller's earth or pumice, applied when the body was sweating and scraped off with a curved instrument called a strigil, perhaps by a slave who cleaned up afterwards. The slave, if the bather could afford one, might also watch over the master's clothes and possessions and, if any were stolen, curse tablets relieved the feelings of the victim with their strong words. Scribes sometimes were hired to write down the imprecations.
   I have used the pronoun "he" throughout (tut tut) although women also used the baths and it took the stern Hadrian to prohibit mixed bathing, fearing its immorality. Probably the women then used the east  and warmer end and the men the colder west.
  There are only 3 hot springs in Britain and they are all in Bath. I have been told several times that extremely fat fish breed near the warm outlet in the river but I have never managed to see them.

It is well worth taking the hourly free guided tour: I am indebted to Laure for some of this recondite information and, of course, tea afterwards in the Pump Room is obligatory - they do not seem to mind 3 people sharing the three-tier rack of dainty sandwiches and CAKE.

The other munchers are aghast at my sodden appearance.   

I went to Bath by train from Newport and braved unforecast heavy rain for your edification. Nearer to home, the baths at Caerleon are a favourite of mine, as is the huge amphitheatre, remains of barracks and interesting museum there. The Roman town of Caerwent is not far away with its magnificent stretch of ancient walls.

Monmouthshire in the 14th century: prosperity and plague

Chepstow Castle, a crossing point

Prosperity
   Monmouthshire in the 14th century was relatively accessible from England and became quite affluent, particularly in the towns which grew up (some around castles) such as Chepstow, Abergavenny, Monmouth, Newport, Tryleg and Caerleon. The county had a higher ratio of castles per square mile than any other similar region of England or Wales, except Herefordshire and Northumberland. To get my tenses right - it still does and therefore has a record number of post-castle-visit CAKE opportunities. Even though some fortresses were starting to fall into disrepair, several were sufficiently comfortable and welcoming for leading English lords to spend time in them, Henry V being born in Monmouth.
   These lowlands of the south-east were also appealing because of their good hunting: a well-stocked park in Grosmont made it a favourite residence of the House of Lancaster and the towns offered specialised crafts and services, weekly markets and twice-yearly fairs. A suburb of Abergavenny was called Englishton and several spots were the homes of Benedictine priories, outposts of northern French monasteries.

The River Usk from the Flood Route or Noah's Ark Route

   Manors grew wheat and the River Usk provided salmon, prized as far away as East Anglia. Wood and charcoal also formed an important part of the economy. More distant parts of the region were still thoroughly Welsh in language, customs and culture: 87% of taxpayers in 1292 round Monmouth had English surnames but the proportions were reversed in the district around White Castle. The men of Gwent were particularly skilled in military techniques, especially the bow and arrow, and were sought after in English wars against France. One detail I like from this tapestry of prosperity is that of the journey of Lady Elizabeth de Burgh of Usk travelling to her East Anglian estates in 1350, escorted by 130 horses and 28 hackneys, the menage quaffing an impressive 80 gallons of ale per day en route. If that makes you feel thirsty you may have a cup of tea with your CAKE.

Usk Castle

The Plague
   I have scattered the story of affluence with photographs because it is hard to know how to illustrate this next part of the story. Towards the end of the century Monmouthshire (Gwent) was composed of 5 great lordships: Abergavenny; Monmouth and Three Castles; Striguil (Chepstow); Usk and Caerleon; and Gwynllwg (Newport) - the latter now having the least visited ruined castle in the area. (Don't try to boost its numbers: the local council makes no attempt to make the relic accessible.) Changes in lordships caused by natural demise were disruptive but the advent of the Black Death was cataclysmic.
   There are many facts here which are only probable but the outline is clear: in the winter of 1348-9 the pandemic arrived and was known as "Y Farwolaeth Fawr" which does sound more ominous than the English version, "The Great Death". It killed between a third and a quarter of the population. Recurrent further outbreaks meant that economic recovery seemed nearly impossible: particularly distressing was that of 1361-2 which carried off the younger generation who might otherwise have revived the economy. In 1362, 36 of the 40 tenants of Caldicot are recorded as dead and only 114 labour services remained out of a previous 2000, though these figures might be cumulative over more years. Areas spared so far were devastated by the 1369 spread of this virulent disease. The county was overturned by such losses.

Caldicot Castle

   Yet there was some recovery despite the demographic collapse although it was the lower classes of men and women who scraped together money to satisfy the well organised lords' demands. This was, in some ways, merely a delay of inevitable consequences: labour shortages made demesne farming less profitable and many lords became long-distance, rent-collecting owners. Serfdom as a system was eclipsed and workers could now make demands on their lords. The peasantry became rebellious (schoolroom titters at the back about revolting peasants will not be tolerated) and there were risings against the lords in Abergavenny and ominous threats to Monmouth in 1381 which prompted John of Gaunt to fortify his castle there.

Monmouth Castle

What next?
   I can pick 3 words from my unlocked word-hoard to answer that question: Owain Glyn Dwr.

I have written a brief biography of this enigmatic man followed by an attempt at assessment. Many of my posts are about castles in Monmouthshire: you might like to start by reading about Henry V's birthplace: Monmouth Castle. An account of Marcher lordships goes a little further in explaining this aspect and there is an article on Medieval markets in the area.
On the right of this blog there is a rather daunting list of books consulted with gratitude but I am particluarly indebted to The Gwent County History vol. 2 for this piece.

Wells: the Bishop's Palace and gardens

Wells Cathedral is magnificent and I was stunned by it, as I expected to be. For some silly reason I had not entertained such high hopes of the neighbouring Bishop's Palace but I was even more struck by it and, particularly, its gardens. There you find the wells which give the city its name: water gardens are always special and these are the most atmospheric I have visited. I entered the main part of them through a small opening in the wall - there is something especially magical about vistas that open out after confinement - and was overwhelmed. Unfortunately the light was fading and, when I returned to take better photos, it drizzled. Some kindly people have suggested I use images from Google but I just know that my loyal followers prefer my amateurish but personalised efforts.

A brief history
  The site may have been occupied since prehistoric times because of the abundant supply of fresh water but the first episcopal buildings were established by Jocelin who became bishop in 1206. Succeeding bishops until 1500 enlarged the palace, built formidable ramparts, harnessed the water to make a moat and supply the city and created an impressive new opening from the market place. All these improvements emphasised the power and grandeur of the bishopric and later incumbents added lesser improvements such as the long south wall (Bishop Ken composed his hymns whilst walking there and I love to imagine him strolling along humming gently and intoning proudly when he had nailed it), remodelling of the gardens and embellishing the palace interior. Water often has a symbolic significance to us all and the most active spring here, St. Andrew's Well, has the same dedication as the minster, with the bishops controlling the supply from the 1200's onwards.
  Jocelin was favoured by King John and Henry III, who needed his support and who allowed him to develop the estate. He constructed 2 new schools, a hospital and a chapel - it is worth walking past the left hand side of the cathedral as these smaller buildings are lovely. A deer park was also part of his endowment, stocked with animals from the king's own estates, whose sensitivity to noise was respected by the diversion of the lorries carrying stones.

The gardens

  Be bold and, Alice-like, pop through the hole to discover the extensive water gardens, developed by Ralph of Shrewsbury from the marshy ground which had flooded uncontrollably until the 1330's. He created a moat which acted as a reservoir, and thus limited the inundations and made the building of water mills possible. He added a rampart with round towers and a gatehouse which had, with the permission of King Edward III, crenellations. The site covers 14 acres and demands labour from the Head Gardener and team - it has reflected the charging tastes in garden design over the centuries.
  It was Bishop Beckynton who built the wellhouse with a cistern to collect the water from the wells and maintain enough pressure to send it through a conduit towards the market place where any overflow washed away rubbish. Wooden bungs could be used to shut off the flow. Amazing engineering prowess.

The swans on the moat are still trained to ring a bell beneath the window on the left at the gatehouse to ask for dinner. They pull on the chain and demand fast food from the caretaker who lives there: mother swans teach their cygnets how to do this with dignity and an imperious manner in morning classes (not really - just checking you are still concentrating) and their sleek plumpness shows how successful they are.


2 (or 3?) not-so-peaceful items
  The palace was used as a garrison by troops in both the Civil War and the Monmouth Rebellion. Bishop Kidder and his wife were killed in the Great Storm of 1703 when 2 chimney stacks fell on them in the night whilst they slept. The Bishop of Bath and Wells has been recorded on Blackadder as a baby-eater but I am sceptical since they had fat swans for their delectation - though these probably belonged to the monarch.
  I lingered in the failing light as long as I could, wandering about and sitting on various seats including one of those swinging striped jobbies with a canopy that always seem to me the height of luxury and indolence. There is also an arboretum with a Dragon's Lair but I live in Wales where they are ubiquitous. If I lived in Wells I would come here daily to breathe in the atmosphere. Yet I was far from home, having journeyed through Bath from Newport by train and bus on the very well run local services. Anyway it was time for CAKE which I had in the cathedral café where they were asking people to donate crockery and glassware so that they could recreate the traditional afternoon tea - isn't that a soothing thought?

For my blog post on Wells Cathedral, click here. From there you can click on other links to cathedrals, castles and Roman remains and your afternoon will pass profitably until CAKE time.
For opening times of the Palace click here.