Another Country, A Small Ruin and A One of Kind Bridge … Monmouth, Wales

Woolly says – It had been a busy couple of weeks with lots of glampers which had seen Jo racing round with piles of bedding and a furrowed brow as she also attempted to keep Alfie the Dog safe and out and about with her. This seemed to involve a lot of ramp carrying and tying him on a very long leash to anything that remained still as she cleaned and supervised proceedings in the orchard.

The Jubilee party had been a huge success as I found a new love for jelly and the mutt had copious amounts of belly rubs.

After two weeks of restricted activity Barking Boy was given the green light to resume most activities, steps still being an issue it appeared that the ramp would be around for a while to come and I decided that it was time to get out and about once more. Jo had specified that it mustn’t involve too much walking and no climbing so that we could all enjoy our time out, with this in mind it seemed to be the perfect opportunity to visit the small town of Monmouth.

Monmouth although less than 20 miles away from us is over the border in Wales, I don’t know what it is but it always makes us smile when we see the ‘croeso i gymru’ sign as we cross over into Wales. Situated where the River Monnow joins the River Wye, it was once the site of the small Roman fort of Blestium, and became established after the Normans built Monmouth Castle in1067. The castle was of course our first port of call.

Tucked away on a small lane off Monmouth’s main shopping street, in fact it was so tucked away that we had to ask people where it actually was as we seemed to be entering a military area, a kind lady just told us to go through and we would see it.

I galloped ahead stopping abruptly on the grassed away which seemed to contain the whole of the ruins, somehow, I had thought there was so much more but if you added on watching the mutt have a wee it took two minutes to see it all.

Only a few fragments of the 12th-century Great Tower and 13th-century hall remain of this once-important castle. It was founded in the 11th century by the Norman Lord William Fitz Osbern, and by the mid-14th century was in the hands of Henry of Grosmont, who modified the tower with large decorated windows whose outline is still visible, although I think it would be unlikely that the wooden frames would have been in place at the time of building.

The most notable event in the tower’s history occurred on 16th September 1387, when King Henry V of Battle of Agincourt fame was born here, an occasion commemorated at Monmouth’s Agincourt Square. I stood looking at the ruins of the tower, it seemed a shame that a castle that safely delivered a future monarch had so little left.

Next to the small ruin was the Military Museum housed in a building known as Castle House which had been built on the area where the castles Round Tower had once stood, a couple of armoured vehicles were parked outside just asking to be climbed on which I was happy to oblige. I then turned my attention to the museum itself which had a large sign outside saying it was open at 2pm, given that it was only 10am a viewing inside wasn’t likely to happen.

My small friends grubby little face looked despondent as I racked my brains for words of encouragement, a small memory sprang into my mind, ‘Isn’t there a special bridge here Woolly?’ he looked up and life seemed to ebb back into him again, ‘YES YES, will Furry Fiend be ok to walk further?’ he squeaked, I nodded and followed his retreating footsteps.

I raced down the lane and along the main street stopping to admire the Shire Hall in Agincourt Square, a Grade I listed building constructed in 1724, which was once the centre for the Assize Courts and Quarter Sessions for Monmouthshire. Infront of the fine building was a memorial statue to the aviation pioneer Charles Rolls coming in at 8 feet (2.4 m) high. The Rolls family had lived close to the town and were huge benefactors, the statue was proposed by the Borough Council in June 1910, to celebrate Charles Rolls’ two-way crossing of the English Channel. However, Rolls was killed in an accident at an airfield near Bournemouth the following month so the statue and plaques around the plinth therefore commemorate his life achievements. It was a good statue and having given Charles a thumbs up I hurried on.

Within a few short minutes I was standing on Monnow Bridge and what a bridge it was. The only remaining fortified river bridge in Great Britain with its gate tower standing on the bridge, it is one of a kind. Such bridge towers were common across Europe from medieval times, but many were destroyed due to urban expansion, diminishing defensive requirements and the increasing demands of traffic and trade, traffic only ceased to use the bridge in 2004 as the structural damage started to become irreparable.

According to the local tradition, construction of Monnow Bridge began in 1272 to replace a 12th-century Norman timber bridge. Through the medieval era, the English Civil War, and the Chartist uprising, the bridge played a significant, if ineffectual, role in defending Monmouth. It also served as a gaol, a munitions store, a lodge, an advertising hoarding, a focus for celebrations and, most significantly, as a toll gate. Much of the medieval development of Monmouth was funded by the taxes and tolls the borough was entitled to raise through royal charter. The tolls were collected through control of the points of entry to the town, including the gatehouse on Monnow Bridge. It was a fine sight with its small arched passage ways that people would have once used as horses and carts went through the centre.

A small wooden doorway would have led to the rooms above, it must have been quite interesting to be a prisoner there as you would have been able to watch day to day life which must have helped to pass some time. The small slit windows would have once had bows and arrows in place ready to defend the townsfolk. I was very impressed and even more so that my carer had remembered it, maybe her brain isn’t as addled as I had thought.

I gave her a friendly tusking of thanks just as my tummy let out a huge rumble to which she laughed and Alfie the Dog barked, time for some sustenance and a rest for everyone’s paws and feet.

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