Crab Mill Farm, Kinnerton, Flintshire, Wales

Sunday dawned sunny and warm, the rain delayed until tomorrow. We hung about until after the week’s politics had been discussed on the tele and then by us, then off we went, firstly to track down some much needed vegetables, better bought early rather than risk the early Sunday closing. 

In Broughton, just a couple of miles north, we found the massive factory sheds of Airbus and a very modern shopping centre, containing a Tesco Extra which was not due to open until 11 am, this not at all suitable. Instead we back tracked to the Aldi sighted en route and spent our fresh fruit and vegetable budget there, and no doubt saved money by doing so; these two German sibling-led companies are making a big impact on the supermarket spend here in the United Kingdom. 

Back on the A55, it was just less than twenty miles across to our first destination, English Heritage’s Beeston Castle, situated about halfway between Chester and Nantwich. With little expectation we were gobsmacked as we approached the castle which sits high on a sandstone crag, this part of higher ground running across the Cheshire plain. The 100 metre cliffs make the crag virtually inaccessible except from the east, where we headed.  The road today was busy with dozens upon dozens of would be Tour de France cyclists, most disregarding the fact that size, age and sex has much to do with eligibility, but none of this made the progress for motorists any easier.

We parked up in the car park for which one is charged a non- refundable £3, and headed up through the Victorian gatehouse, the first of three we were to pass through. Here apart from the ever present shop selling souvenirs and annual subscriptions, is a compact little museum exhibition, explaining the history of Beeston Castle. Much of the display covers the archaeological discoveries regarding the Iron and Bronze Age occupation, which is interesting but more often than not gathers in more general international discoveries to explain the meagre finds here. 

On a more recent stage, the castle was built in the 1220s by Ranulf de Blondeville, 6^th Earl of Chester, on his return from the crusades, this latter fact hugely instrumental in his imagining and planning of the castle, the design Saracen more than anything else. The concept of a castle perched high here on the cliffs meets all such fantastical amazing impenetrable fortresses one can see all over the world, or at least those within reach of a 13^th century traveller. 

Ranulf died long before the castle was completed, and his heir, John, didn’t last much longer so the castle passed to the Crown. Henry III used Beeston as a garrison and prison during his wars in Wales, and around 1300, Edward I strengthened the defences, but after that it gradually fell into disuse.

Beeston next appeared in history when it became a royalist stronghold during the Civil War, and held out against a yearlong Parliamentary siege until starvation forced the garrison to surrender. In 1646, the castle defences were demolished on Parliamentary order.

Some of the castle did survive the dismantling, and in 1703 there was a tenant, George Walley, living in the Outer Gatehouse. The site then passed into the ownership of Sir Thomas Mostyn, and the hill was used for grazing and for quarrying stone. The Outer Gatehouse was probably pulled down at this time to give better access to the quarries.

In 1840 the estate was purchased by John, 1^st Lord Tollemache. The quarrying continued, but repairs were made to the castle and in 1846 the current reception gatehouse was built along with the stone wall around the base of the crag. This wall acted as a boundary for the deer and the kangaroos that were kept here, that latter fact a strange one and without further explanation. Visitors were allowed to view the ruins, and from about 1851 an annual fete was held in the grounds. In 1902 a special fete was held in the grounds to celebrate the coronation of Edward VII.

The tradition of the modern Beeston Castle fete was established in 1945 and continues to be held every August Bank Holiday.

Beeston was taken into state guardianship in 1959 and passed to English Heritage in 1984. 

Even though the bulk of the castle is little more than ruins, there is enough to capture the imagination of all visitors, even if only because of its position. The only foot access is up through the outer gatehouse, then across a barren rabbit infested outer ward, before arriving at a steep modern bridge that crosses over a very deep dry ditch. From afar, this bridge across to the upper inner ward at the top of this spectacular crag is very impressive. At the top of the bridge, one passes through the inner gatehouse to the inner ward, from where one has spectacular 360 degree views over the Cheshire Plain and into Wales.

Within this inner ward is the 370 foot deep castle well; a mysterious cavity from which there are at least three passages, but none of the treasure legend suggests to have been hidden here.  It is said that Richard III chose Beeston to hide his personal fortune of “100,000 marks in gold coin and 100,000 marks in other precious objects” before he went on a trip to Ireland in 1399. On his return he was captured and eventually killed by Henry Bolingbroke, Duke of Lancaster (later Henry IV), before having  the opportunity to recover his treasure. Stories of treasure or ghosts never fail to stir interest in a place or project.

We and three Welsh tourists leaned over the well cover peering down into the invisible bottom; even with smartphone torches, nothing was to be seen, nor was the landing of the dropped pebbles audible. Thank goodness for the safety grill!

The views from the Sky Tower in Auckland have kept me enraptured for ridiculous periods of time; today the views from the curtain walls of Beeston Castle had the same effect.

Halfway down the hill, immediately beneath the outer walls, we took the path that circuits the entire complex, through lovely woodland where one might see Peregrine falcons, ravens, badgers, and woodpeckers. Alas we were debating facts concerning the Saxon years of occupation and scared most wildlife away, although Chris did catch sight of a squirrel scampering away.

When we finally did tear ourselves away from Beeston Castle, we headed toward the Shropshire Union Canal spotted on the map earlier and again from the top of the crag, the little blocks of colour seen moving along the straight lines which could only be the canal. We had also watched the trains passing from the top, as tiny as miniature toys, such was the height of our vantage spot.

We found ourselves a parking space on the roadside near the canal side pub at Tiverton, and set off along the towpath, chatting with fellow walkers, narrow-boat captains and others standing about Wharton’s Lock watching the boats pass through. We walked on for some time, and by the time we turned back, the queues of craft waiting to pass through the locks had grown substantially.

This is the canal that links the canal system of the West Midlands at Wolverhampton with the River Mersey and Manchester Ship Canal at Ellesmere Port, Cheshire, a distance of 106 kilometres. And it is this that also links the Llangollen and Montomery canals in Wales. I do believe it was this canal that my parents and aunt travelled by hired narrow-boat about twenty eight years ago, or at least it was that understanding that turned my mind to them and their own wonderful travelling years today as I walked along. Then they would have been only a little younger than me.

Back home the sheep dogs were hanging about looking sad; their owners left this morning for the national agricultural show down country taking their own caravan. They have left their daughters in charge obviously to the disgust of the dogs. Hopefully the cows won’t be too bothered.