To Corwen

Now that I'm in north Wales, my bible for the trip is Thomas Telford's Holyhead Road: The A5 in north Wales by Jamie Quartermaine, Barrie Trinder and Rick Turner. This book documented the archaeology of the road in considerable detail, and I can't hope to improve on it. It's my guide for things to look out for.

Yesterday, approaching Chirk, I was struggling to find Telford's roadside depots. Today, between Chirk and Corwen, I found (I think) 83 of them, with another 3 possibles. As I was stopping to take a picture of each, needing to wait for traffic to pass, then noting down details, this slowed down my progress along the road. (I also had rain some of the time.)

I have also been looking at where the Telford road laid out a new route, avoiding gradients to speed up the coach journey. First at Froncysyllte, the older road can be seen as Alma Road going up the side of the Dee valley, becoming Cwmalis Road, where the new road ignores all that to plot a smooth gradient round the valley side. Inevitably, this meant cutting into the hillside on the left and a retaining wall on the right.

Then, coming into Llangollen, the earlier road was Maesmawr Road, becoming Birch Hill into the town; this has a number of 18th century buildings along it. Driving along the alternative today, lined with tree branches on either side, it's a comfortable enough ride: you don't realise it's basically a ledge hewn into a cliff. Even in Llangollen itself, Telford's obsession cut a new course. What is now Hall Street was the old road, and has older buildings along it, one, convieniently for me, datestoned 1799. Berwyn Street, the newer road parallel to it was more evenly graded and bypassed Hall Street; it's only been built on since.

At Glyndyfrdwy, I was keen to find the 'whale' described by George Borrow in Wild Wales. Travelling in 1854, he too was following Telford's road. Just upstream of the bridge known as Pont y Pandy, he described a huge rock, which he likened to a whale on its side. The bridge has had work done to it since, but not so much as to let the whale through. Allowing for Borrow's poetic licence, I was able to fit his description to my observation: yes, the whale is still there.

I could hardly miss two tollhouses, one with its weighbridge house opposite. Most of the milestones in this section have reproduction iron plates in the original limestone.

Now I'm at another old coaching inn, Owain Glyndwr in Corwen. I was pleased to see their food menu quoting Borrow on his having stopped here for a pint.

To Chirk

Today's walk was made a little longer by my having stayed in Ruyton XI Towns, and so having to walk back to Shotatton before I could really get going. Although starting on part of the road which is still A5, for most of the day I was away from the busy modern road.

I had brought with me copies of some of Harper's sketches from his 1904 book in the hope I could still recognise the scene. Wyle Kop in Shrewsbury yesterday was well-enough preserved, but not so today at Queen's Head (village named after an inn). The inn is there and much the same, but what had been a round-arched canal bridge has been rebuilt in a different style, and a house in the background has gone altogether in the course of recent road improvements.

Before the present main road was built in the 1980s, I remember the A5 going from Queen's Head via Whittington to Gobowen, bypassing Oswestry. That's now the B5009, and when I first thought of this walk, I expected to pass that way. But I've decided to follow Telford's original route for the whole of this phase, and his milestones took me into Oswestry.

There I met with John Higgs, author of the Watling Street book published earlier this year. We obviously have much in common, although I reckon our interests are complementary, not competing. I spoke with him about my walk while being recorded for a podcast. Why am I helping him promote his book? It must be about reflected glory.

My main aim in these last two days has been to find out how much the characteristics of the road in North Wales are shared in Shropshire. The milestones here (today I missed 95 and 92 miles, but had an unexpected bonus in a reproduction at 90 miles), from Shrewsbury to Gledrid, share a common design with each other. It's similar to those from Chirk to Holyhead, but not quite the same. The tollhouse at Montford Bridge had looked like Telford's pattern, albeit two-storey as in Anglesey, but the one at Wolf's Head was totally different.

The distinctive 'look' of the road through Wales primarily comes from low stone walls either side, frequently punctuated by the 'depots': roadside alcoves where repair materials were stored. I was searching for these, but the Shropshire road is generally bounded by hedge or fence. A bit of stone wall here and there wouldn't be enough, as it could have been added by roadside property owners, or later road improvements: it has to have the depots to be persuasively the same. I found nothing of this for most of both days. I had more hope after Gobowen, because here Telford built a new route rather than improving a pre-existing road, but this too it was mostly fenced. Going down the hill from Gledrid to Chirk Bridge, some retaining walls are essential - and here I found, finally, one likely-looking depot and a possible part of another. Here perhaps is where the style first appears.

So now I am back in Wales, at the Hand Hotel, a coaching inn. The road is now badged as Llwybr Hanesyddol - Historic Route, and Chirk has really gone to town with this, using the same coach and horses symbol on their street signs and street furniture.

To Shotatton

Today I restarted with Phase 2, starting at the Horeshoe Inn, Uckington, where the turnpike road parted company with the Roman road to Wroxeter. From now on, I'll be following Thomas Telford's road to Holyhead.

First, though, we had stayed overnight at Wroxeter. I resumed acquaintance with Robert at English Heritage's Wroxeter Roman City. I also visited, again, the church, under the care of the Churches Conservation Trust - and which has multiple periods of churchbuilding history on display. We also visited Wroxeter Roman Vineyard to sample and buy some local produce. Best of all was the chat from the proprietor (I must get his name), as a local person talking about the Roman connections. His mother remembers seeing the structure of the Roman ford over the Severn.

Back to today, of which the highlight was my visit to Lord Hill's column in Shrewsbury. I've seen this as something of a twin to the Marquis of Anglesey's column in Llanfairpwll, both from the same period as Telford's road and almost bookending it. I had arranged to meet Richard Hayes, one of the Friends of the column, who let me in and was the perfect guide. Particularly impressive was the cast-iron handrail, with its legend cast into it all the way up. We went to the top and the weather was such that I was blessed with views of my route, all the way to Berwyn.

Now, about the milestones. On the way to Wroxeter, there really were not that many of the turnpike (or earlier) stones to be seen. I tweeted and blogged all that I saw, and one or two more. I always knew that I would see more on Telford's road, where they are better preserved.

Once I'm in Wales, Quartermaine's book (of which more in later posts) has documented all of them, and the Institute of Civil Engineers have arranged for reproductions of the few that were missing. Once I'm in Wales, I fully expect to see a milestone every mile, so I won't be tweeting every one. In Shropshire, however, they're not all there, and not so well preserved, so every one I see is a bonus.

Of the Telford milestones, they start at 106 miles to Holyhead; that and a few others were prominent enough. 104 miles was almost covered by ivy, and 101 present but almost buried; I walked past it once without seeing it. 103, 102, 98 and 99 ought to have been there but I didn't see them. I can't say they weren't there: had I come along with a strimmer, or better still a team of strimmer operators, I might have found them.

Earlier, I had failed to find two others before Shrewsbury. Just after my start, near the junction of B4394 and B4380, there should be a milestone: it's not listed, but it's on the current OS map. It probably ought to say LONDON 146 SHIFNAL 13 SALOP 4M 6F. Here vegetation wasn't a problem, but despite searching hard for it, no success. There should be another one a mile further on, just after Atcham Bridge, and this time it's listed - again, no luck.

This why I'm tweeting so many milestones. They're more frequent now, but not quite enough so.

This was a long walk today - 17 miles on the road and another 3 to get to my B&B, probably longer than any day of Phase 1. They will get shorter, and fortunately the weather was good all day.

Phase 2: Thomas Telford's road to Holyhead

Phase 2 of my walk starts on Saturday.

I'll be following the road built by Thomas Telford, mostly in 1815-19 but completed with the opening of the Menai Suspension Bridge in 1826. According to his recent biographer, Julian Glover, "Nothing like it had been proposed in Britain since the Romans and there was to be nothing like it again until the building of the first motorways in the 1950s".

In a sense, he was continuing the Roman tradition of roadbuilding to get to a distant destination. This is more literally so in terms of my own mission, because he continued the Roman Watling Street in what was to become (give or take a few miles here and there) the A5 in 1923.

However, I also see Thomas Telford's road as the precursor of the motorways. Like the motorways, his road though North Wales cut across swathes of open land, avoided villages that would have got in the way, built brand new bridges, cuttings and embankments; all in order to speed up the journey time.

Andrew Hudson's book is about This Ancient Road. On my walk along Watling Street I was certainly seeking out traces of something ancient. Telford's road, in comparison, is only two hundred years old, and it's not going to be hard to find. I suspect that my Phase 2 walk will be more about the beginning of modern roads.

1897 Jubilee Plaques

There are things I knew would recur along the walk. I started at a marble arch, and I will finish at another.  There are recurrent themes of milestones and tollhouses, and all those other bits of road infrastructure. But here's one I didn't expect.

Here's a zoomed-in detail from a picture I took along the walk of Primrose Cottage in Atherstone. I thought I recognised this tile, dating from Queen Victoria's 1897 jubilee.

I checked when I got home - and I've just got round to taking a picture of it. This is at 'Jubilee Buildings' on the High Street in Bangor, and part of the route I will be walking later on. (As I have now planned phase 2, I can say that I will pass this again on September 21st).













Sure enough, the plaques are identical. I thought these must have been mass-produced at the time, and somebody, somewhere must know about these. It didn't take me long to find out more online: here's what they are.  I will alert them to the Bangor plaque.

Inns 5: Completely Disappeared Inns

Lastly, I explored one or two sites along Watling Street where once there were inns of some sort, but now they are gone.

I referred earlier to the old White Horse in Hockley and the Flying Fox . Between these on the road, Harper, writing in 1902, referred to an impressive redbrick house, set back off the road to the left, and which had once been the Peacock Inn. I looked out for the building, hoping see another old inn. The most likely candidate was Checkleywood Farm -  but the building didn't really match Harper's description, and could easily have been built more recently than 1902. The best that could be said was that it might have been built on the footprint of the old Peacock. I wrote this off as a completely disappeared inn.

Ogilby's map has an inn, the sign of the Man & Boy Bush, at the right, on top of a hill some two miles north of Towcester. I found this spot, where a bridle way leaves the road to the right - and which is suggested here to be a junction with the much-older Oxenford Way. The present-day road is in a shallow cutting, probably a turnpike age improvement. A copse above the road on the right has some humps and bumps, a rectangular form suggestive of a building's foundations. Might an archaeological dig here reveal the Man & Boy Bush?

Inns 4: Closed Inns

Reflecting the troubles of this age, I came across a number of pubs and inns which were evidently no longer open for business. One or two I was told had recently closed, and a number were in reasonably good condition, with current 'To Let' signs, suggesting that they could yet see some life.

Sadder were the hostelries, still identified by their signs, fallen into dilapidation, where reopening does not seem in prospect at all:

The Bald-Faced Stag in Burnt Oak (the area earlier known as Red Hill), an inn of this name, if not this building, traceable here since the early 19th century at least.

The Hollybush, Elstree, a former pub which in part dates back to the 15th century, now looked after by 'Space Sitters'.

The Rising Sun in Brownhills at least still gives its name to a roundabout. It has the distinction of Britain's oldest finger post (or actually, a replica, because the original is in a museum) standing outside.




Two very grand old inns along the road were the former White Horse in Hockcliffe and the former Four Crosses.

The old White Horse is an attractive and imposing roadside building. No sign now, but very clearly once a grand inn. It's been many things and is now a private home, and was for sale when I walked past. This is a place with real potential.

The Four Crosses, west of Cannock, just looks so 'Olde Worlde', with its 1636 date, its Latin inscription  and having had the benefit of an early 20th century restoration. Somebody must love this building enough to keep it this way.







Then there were the old inn buildings now repurposed as something different, keeping them in use, still looking a bit like an inn: The Halian Vet Centre in what was once the Red Cow, the Shifnal Cottage Indian restaurant in the former Hare & Hounds being just two examples.

I also enjoyed looking for buildings which were once inns but hardly showed it. Smockington was once a major crossroads, and very close to the site of a Roman Villa. In Ogilby's Britannia, the Hereford to Leicester road crosses Watling Street here, at a staggered junction, where Celia Fiennes, a noted 17th century traveller referred to "a little place called Smockington, fitted for inns, very commodious". Those inns were the Greyhound at Smockington Hollow where the Leicester road joins, then the Red Lion, where the road leaves towards Hereford. Harper in 1902 referred to "a hamlet in a bottom, with some reminiscences of a coaching age". That staggered junction became the junction of the A5 and A46 - but today, the long-distance traffic takes the M69, and what was once the A46 is now a minor road, B4114. Smockington is no longer a crossing-point justifying inns. The Red Lion is now just Red Lion Farm. A much modernised house at Smockington Hollow looks unconnected - but the Georgian doorway gives away its past: this must be the Greyhound.