Although this is a great area to live, one of the things I still miss about living in London is a wide range of top-class take-away food restaurants on the doorstep. The whole process of ordering it online, dropping in and having a chat whilst waiting to collect it, carrying it tenderly home whilst inhaling the stunning aromas, and then pouring a big glass of wine to kick back and munch and slurp accompanied by a good movie was wonderful. My takeaways were always something to seriously, seriously enjoy.
Enter Pull Up Pizza in Farndon (Harbledown House Garage, Churton Road, Farndon), a splendid fortnightly pop-up, every other Friday, that has brought a large dash of cosmopolitan sparkle to the village, and produces pizzas to order on the premises that quite simply make your heart sing. Mucho mucho happiness. The upmarket take-away has arrived, and in style. The magicians are husband and wife team Will and Charlie, with Jonny and Chris, who form the power-team that produce this excellence, working like crazy, making time for quick chats with big smiles.
I first noticed it on Friday two weeks ago when I passed the garage entrance on my way home, a little way up from the post office/pharmacy in Farndon as you head north on Churton Road towards Chester. To my surprise the garage entrance was wide open, filled with light, and there was a busy pizza-making operation in full swing. I immediately abandoned my plans for making a fiddly cheese soufflé, ditched the car, and entered a nirvana of bright music, a chatty, friendly atmosphere and the most gorgeous aromas emanating in my direction. Fifteen minutes later I walked out with an exciting pink and black pizza box, the proud possessor of a Penduja Power. Oh the bliss! I could barely wait to get home to lift the lid as the aromas began to do serious injury to my will-power. The Penduja, with a crispy crust, thin base, chunky slices of jalapeño and thickly spread nduja, has a serious kick to it, with smokiness from the pepperoni, whilst both the creamy fior di latte mozzarella and pure mozzarella ensure that there is just the right balance of flavour, with subtle undertones and divine ultra-spicy overtones, all accompanied by gorgeous hits of fresh basil. It really was love at first glorious bite ❤️.
Pull Up Pizza’s “Penduja Power” with a guilty slice missing
I was so busy enjoying my small chunk of heaven that I forgot to photograph the thing. This meant (oh dear, oh dear) that I had to go back this Friday to buy another one. And you know what? I had already been so completely overpowered by the alluring scents by the time I arrived home that I had devoured a slice before I remembered that I was supposed to be taking a photograph of it – again! This could have gone on forever, so here’s the photograph of the pizza decanted onto a very large pre-heated plate with (ahem) one slice missing. Please note that before I had wrestled it with inelegant haste from its box it was actually a thing of real beauty and perfection.
Although they can take walk-in orders when they are not snowed under with online orders, the whole operation is based on the premise that pre-orders will enable them to respond with maximum efficiency to make their pizzas to order, ready for collection at a certain time. They emphasize that checking ordering before cut-off times is essential, so signing up to their newsletter (a maximum of three emails a month) or checking their website or Instagram page is essential. For example today’s cut-off for all evening orders was 3pm, and order collections began at 4pm and ended at 9pm. For full details of how it works see the Pull Up Pizza website, but basically you can either order via Instagram or if you don’t have an account, you can just click the Order Pizza Now button on the aforementioned website, which is what I did. Customers select a fifteen minute timeslot from a drop-down menu and pay in advance, and it all seems to work like an absolute dream. There are a number of different payment options, including debit card, credit card and Apple Pay, and of course you receive an order confirmation.
This is a real pop-up. When they close down, everything is on wheels so simply pushes back out of the way to re-create the garage space. It was really good to see people coming and going, chatting to the proprietors and generally enjoying the spectacle and the anticipation of great pizza and garlic bread (oh the scent of that garlic bread!). If you arrive early there is a bench inside where you can sit and wait. There is parking on the road immediately outside as well as on the main Farndon high street, and of course there is free parking at the Memorial Hall on Church Lane.
I am a serious pizza nut, so it is a matter of some celebration that these guys have established Pull Up Pizza so close by. My major challenge is to wean myself off the Penduja Power and try one of their other pizzas, all of which are listed on their website. I foresee a Crimson Blaze on the horizon. The fact that they are only open once a fortnight holds out some hope for my waistline actually continuing to be a waistline. Wishing them all the best for a really great future – it’s such an enterprising idea, and so well executed. xxx
Not for the first time I am writing about somewhere that I really ought to have talked about a long time ago because it is so near to me, in this case the Grade II* listed St Chad’s Church just down the road in Farndon. It is a lovely church, with a rather unexpected history, surrounded by a churchyard and enclosed by an irregularly shaped curving wall. Apart from the tower, there is very little of the medieval church remaining, having been almost completely rebuilt in 1658 following the damage inflicted during the Civil War, but it followed a broadly gothic template and is charming in its own right with a number of nice features, some influenced by the gothic, and others departing in interesting directions. It is particularly well known for the Civil War window installed by William Barnston.
St Chad’s Farndon
The congregation traditionally included those who were on the English side of the river, with burials from Churton-by-Farndon and Churton-by-Aldford, Crewe-by-Farndon, Barton, Leche, and Caldecott, and other nearby villages and farms. After 1866 residents of Churton-by-Aldford were often buried in at the Church of St John in Aldford.
During the summer I posted an account of St Chad’s Church in Holt, opposite Farndon on the other side of the river Dee, with its medieval links to Holt Castle and the Lordship of Bromfield and Yale. It is larger and more elaborate than St Chad’s in Farndon, and the two churches each has its own distinctive character with a lot to offer the visitor. Both churches were involved in the Civil War, due to the importance of the crossing here, and both bear musket ball damage as a result, but Farndon’s St Chad’s came off much worse than St Chad’s in Holt. xxxxxx
According to Bede (writing in the 8th century) St Chad was one of four brothers who entered the church in the 7th century, and started his training at Lindisfarne Monastery under St Aiden. He was ordained in Ireland and became a leading light in the Anglo-Saxon church, rising through the ecclesiastical ranks on the kingdoms of Northumbria and Mercia and under King Wulfhere, one of the earliest Christian kings. He was appointed Bishop of Northumbria, including York, and became the first Bishop of Lichfield in the new diocese of Lichfield, at the heart of Mercia. Mercia was one of seven British kingdoms of 7th century Britain and occupied most of central England. Chad died in AD c.672 and was buried in Lichfield Monastery, now Lichfield Cathedral. Regarded as a pioneer who helped to spread Christian teaching in and beyond Mercia, he became a popular icon during the Middle Ages in the Midlands and its borders. xxx
The Medieval Church
It is remarkable to think that the Civil War obliterated so much of the medieval church in 1643 that most of it had to be rebuilt in the 17th century. The Domesday book records a village priest, as well as two other priests locally, strongly suggesting the presence here of an earlier church, probably wood-built.
Today’s church has a nave and tower that are thought to have followed the original medieval footprint dating to the14th century building. All that obviously remains of the 14th century is the tower, of which three storeys date to around 1343. Everything else appended to this basic structure on north, east and south sides are later in date. Although you enter the church through an 18th century yellow sandstone porch, the thick wooden door itself is actually medieval, a quite astonishing survival.
Lines of the old roof of St Chad’s in Farndon marked on this photograph in white.
Inside, looking towards the tower from the nave, you can see the converging lines at which the old church roof met the tower, considerably lower down than the current roof, and terminating further down than the current arch. This suggests that the medieval church was both shorter and darker. Within the tower there are three chambers with one each for bell-ringers, another for the clock-works and the belfry itself, containing the bells, originally three, at the top.
In the north aisle in the interior of the church is a 14th century funerary effigy showing a knight in armour holding a shield carved with a Latin inscription reading “Here lies Patrick of Barton. Pray for Him.” Sir Patrick holds a sword in his other hand, and has some form of animal at his feet, now too badly worn to be identified with any certainty. This effigy is one of three that was found, but the other two were ground down to make white sand. Although Sir Patrick survived this particular indignity, he was used as a step into the belfry in in the 1900s, which accounts for the wear and tear to his face and the animal. Latham says that one of the other effigies was inscribed with the word “Madocusdaur” and a third was inscribed with a wolf.
John speed was the Farndon tailor’s son and was baptised in St Chad’s in 1552. There’s a good biography of him on the New World Cartographic website explaining how Speed followed his father into tailoring at a time when fashion was of growing importance, doing very well in the business, whilst at the same time pursuing his interests in history, geography, cartography, antiquities and genealogies. It was not until he moved to London that he gained a patron and was able to abandon tailoring and launch a new career. His map of the County of the Palatine of Chester was completed in 1610-11, and was used by both sides during the Civil War. He died in 1629 and is buried in London. xxx
The Civil War
Musket ball and cannon ball marks in the walls of the medieval tower.
The tower in Farndon’s church shows musket-ball and cannon shot damage to the exterior, to the right of the main porch, but the fact that the rest of the church had to be rebuilt in 1658 makes it clear that it experienced a much worse time of it than its counterpart in Holt. In 1643 the commander of the Cheshire and Lancashire Parliamentarian troops used Farndon and its church as a headquarters and barracks, assembling a force of around 2000 to force their way across the bridge, through Royalist defences. The subsequent fighting entered the churchyards at both Holt and Farndon. During the fighting in Farndon churchyard the roof was somehow set alight. In spite of the damage to the roof, the Parliamentarians reoccupied the church until they were ousted in winter 1645. xxx
The 17th Century Rebuild
Apart from the tower at the west end, the current red sandstone church with its slate-tiled roof is largely the result of the post-Civil War rebuild in 1658, presumably re-using some of the original medieval stonework. The main body of the church consists of a nave with clerestories (a run of windows above the nave below roof level to allow in light) and two aisles, terminating in the chancel at the east end. The 5-bay arcade separating the nave from the aisles consists of round piers (columns) with simple capitals and pointed arches. Over 40 different mason marks are dotted throughout the church, each one identifying a separate mason, giving a hint of the scale of the workforce required to rebuild St Chad’s. There used to be a musician’s gallery at the tower end, but this was removed in the 19th century.
Mason’s mark on the arch between the nave and the tower
The nave of the 1658 nave, arcade and overhead clerestory. The entrance to the Barnston chapel is shown at lower far right.
The new church was taller than the old one, with the clerestory and the large Gothic-style lancet windows letting in much more light. The tower was provided with a new top section at this time.
Adding to the footprint of the old church, the Barnston family, major landowners in the area, built a small chapel off the chancel end of the south aisle, for their private use and to bury and commemorate family members. According to the church’s history booklet, there are records mentioning Barnstons in Churton during the reign of Henry VI in the 15th century. In the 17th century William Barnston was a major contributor to the rebuild of the church, and requested that he be buried under a gravestone in the south aisle of the church that has already been placed ready. His 1663 will left a substantial bequest to the church for its upkeep. He died in 1664.
The Civil War window, St Chad’s, Farndon
An adviser to Charles I at the Siege of Chester, William Barnston was responsible for the famous Civil War window in the chapel. What surprises most people who see it for the first time is how small it is, but it is full of details that show Royalist participants, including Barnston himself, and a variety of items of contemporary clothing and equipment used in the Siege of Chester. Pevsner and Hubbard say that the technique is “decidedly Dutch” and Latham adds that “Its artist took his design for the armour from a military work by Thomas Cookson (1591-1636) and for the bottom border from prints by Abraham Bosse (1632).” My photo, left, is very poor due to the lack of light, but have a look at the Visit Stained Glass website for a much better image and a close-up of the depiction of William Barnston.
There are many features of interest to look out for in the 17th century church. In the south aisle there is a rather fine sculpted wooden beam support. The church’s booklet questions whether it is a human or an animal but it looks very like the lions with curly manes that are familiar from Tudor and Jacobean carvings. It is surprising that it is on its own. The damaged medieval font was repaired by Samuel Woolley of Churton but the current octagonal font is thought to date to 1662, replacing the repaired one. XXXxxx
18th, 19th and early 20th century alterations
Georgian style porch, St Chad’s
According to Frank Latham, by 1735 “St. Chad was surrounded by green fields and the houses were few and far between,” and the Massie family seems to have been important to the congregation at this time, with six pews allocated to Richard Massie Esq., and his family. He adds that the east wall was demolished in the 18th century and shifted 10ft (c.3m) further to the east, providing a much larger chancel. Towards the end of the century repairs to the roof were made between 1793 and 1798. Today the red sandstone church is entered via a Georgian-style porch built in yellow sandstone, although I have seen no mention of a precise date for this, and inside there is a large 18th century oak chest that housed the church plate and the parish records.
Memorial to Francis Fletcher 1782
The eastern end of the church was remodelled to include today’s chancel in 1853, not by the Barnstons this time but by the Marquess of Westminster. The carved reredos behind the altar shows the Last Supper and was installed in 1910, with the carvings on the pulpit were added in 1911, showing St Chad accompanied by the usual pulpit team of Saints Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, represented by their emblems. In 1927 the original three bells were joined by another five. The church booklet says that they were rung to mark nationally important occasions, including the defeat of Napoleon in Egypt in 1799, and his defeat at Trafalgar in 1805.
Of the various memorials, one that may be of interest to those familiar with the Barnston obelisk just outside Farndon, is the marble memorial to the Major Roger Barnston (died 1847) in the Barnston chapel. The obelisk in the field on Churton Road, now a natural burial ground, is also a memorial to Major Barnston (died 1847) discussed on the blog here,
The north aisle, like nearly all churches in this area, used to have a clear run to the end of the nave, but the presence of an organ since the 19th century regrettably meant that a gallery just in front of the tower’s arch, where musicians located, became redundant and was removed. The present organ dates to 1949.
St Werburgh and St Chad stained glass in the chancel
The windows are often round-topped, set within rectangular frames that give the exterior an unusual appearance. Exceptions are the large east window behind the altar, installed in 1858 and showing the Sermon on the Mount, installed in memory of church benefactors William and Anne Plumpton, and the south window in the Barnston chapel, both gothic-style.
Most of the stained glass is interesting for the contrasting styles. Following the Trena Cox: Relections 100 exhibition in Chester last year I have become quite interested in 19th century stained glass. On the north side of the chancel, to the left as you face the altar, is a window showing St Chad and St Werburgh (to whom Chester Cathedral was dedicated when it was a Benedictine monastery), by Trena Cox. A look at Aleta Doran’s website devoted to Trena Cox confirmed that this was one of hers, from the 1950s (1953 to be exact). Those windows immediately opposite are similar in style but were clearly crafted by a different artist and show St David (patron saint of Wales) and St Cecilia. Most of the other stained glass was added in the 19th century, with many of the larger window openings being decorated with romantic takes on the gothic, whilst smaller ones are more minimalist. It was a little sad not to be able to learn something about the makers of the glass either at the church or after a hunt through my books and around the Internet.
Window dedicated to the memory of Harry Barnston installed by his sisters after he died in 1929, in somewhat Pre-Raphaelite style
Stained glass in the Barnston chapel, emulating gothic tracery and themes
At the rear (south side) of the building you can see a substantial addition at the west end (near the tower) and I assume that this was a 20th or 21st century add-on, presumably acting as a vestry and storage. xxx
The Churchyard
The churchyard includes a mixture of different types of grave, including chest, table and ledger tombs and vertical headstones, some accompanied by kerbs, mainly of good quality yellow sandstone. A particularly fine example is a Grade II listed double-chest grave made of yellow sandstone and dating to the early 18th century :
West ends of tombs have recessed round-headed panels; that to north contains an hourglass, that to south a skull and crossbones above an inscription Mors S… Omnium [i.e. Mors Sola Omnia,” meaning Death Conquers All]. North side of north tomb has a square central panel containing an encircled quatrefoil in a lozenge with a vertical panel right and a decayed panel left. The east end of each tomb has a fielded panel; south side of south tomb has 3 fielded panels in bolection moulded borders (Historic England – list entry number 1228746)
It was sobering to notice just how many of the chest grave inscriptions commemorate infants and children. I always spend an hour or so reading grave inscriptions and don’t remember seeing so many very young children commemorated, often from the same family in the same generation. As you would expect, the earlier graves are nearest to the church, although unusually many of these are on the north side, which is normally the last to be filled.
Red sandstone gravestone covered in yew berries
Moving away from the immediate area surrounding church building, to its south, the traditional upright gravestones of the later 19th century begin to dominate, with many examples of 19th century funerary symbolism on the headstones. Although many of the headstones are lancet-shaped and much of a muchness in terms of size, there was clearly a lot of choice available in terms of the symbolic motifs that decorated the tops of the graves.
Art deco style headstone
Through a small gate beyond the headstones, the churchyard has been extended for modern use. The 1922 War Memorial in the form of a stone cross commemorates eighteen men killed in the First World War and four in the Second World War. xxx
Final Comments
This medieval church, almost completely rebuilt in the 17th century, has a character of its own, reflecting various periods of restoration and intended improvement, with a strong gothic influence throughout. There are many more features than those described above, including benefaction boards, a list of incumbents, and memorials, and the church booklet produced by Cheshire County Council in 1989 is a good guide.
The church website contains no information about visiting, and the Facebook page hasn’t been updated since 2019, but at the moment the church has an open door policy. On my two recent visits (October 2025) I was able to walk in. There is a contact page on the site, so if you are coming from any distance it might be worth double-checking.
It is splendid to have two really impressive churches, one either side of the river connected by a splendid 14th century bridge, with very different personalities and features, and both very well cared for and open to visit.
Sources:
Books and papers
Cheshire County Council 1989. The Parish church of St Chad, Farndon. (10-page booklet available for purchase at the church)
Latham, Frank 1981. Farndon. Local History Group
Pevsner, Nikolaus and Edward Hubbard 1971. The Buildings of England: Cheshire. Penguin Books
This comes from a poem that Bridge believes dates to the time of Edward IV (28 April 1442 – 9 April 1483), and he suggests that it may belong to the period between the 1460s and 70s. There are two versions of it surviving in contemporary manuscripts (which I have massaged into modern English).
Hearken to my tale that I shall show
For of such marvels I have heard four
If any of them be a lie that I tell after
I would I were as bare as the Bishop of Chester
The second version reads as follows:
Hearken to my message that I shall to you show
For of such marvels you have heard but few
If any of them be untrue that I shall tell you after,
Then become I as poor as the Bishop of Chester
As Bridge points out, this refers to the first Chester Bishopric at St John the Baptist’s, not the one founded by Henry VIII in 1541 that converted the dissolved Benedictine Abbey of St Werburgh to become Chester’s new cathedral.
In the 11th century Archbishop of Canterbury Lanfranc decreed that bishops should locate themselves in the largest and most impressive provincial centre within their area of responsibility (called a see). Accordingly, in 1075 the Bishop Peter of Lichfield moved his power base to Chester and began to build a new cathedral commensurate with the importance of his status in his newly adopted town in a monumental Romanesque style, dedicated to St John the Baptist. Quite why he decided to build outside the walls could be explained in a number of ways, but may have had something to do with Hugh d’Avranches, the first Earl of Chester, who may already have had plans for an ecclesiastical institution within the city walls on an existing church site (St Werburgh’s Abbey, founded in 1093); or it may have been something to do with a shortage of space for such a large project. Whatever the reason, by establishing it where he did, on the site of a church that is thought to have been established in the 7th century, he provided his own foundation with a sense of longstanding religious heritage that reinforced its validity as a primary Christian house.
On the death of Bishop Peter in 1095, the role passed to Robert de Limsey. Bishop Robert abandoned the Chester cathedral in 1102, shifting the see to Coventry, probably to take advantage of the considerable wealth of the Priory of St Mary, which became a new cathedral. Work foundered on Chester’s St John’s Cathedral which, in spite of no incumbent bishop, retained its role, with subsequent bishops of Coventry and Lichfield terming themselves, when convenient, Bishop of Chester at least into the 16th century.
Work resumed on St John’s a century after the death of Bishop Peter, and was completed sometime in the late 1200s, becoming a successful collegiate church. It is to this period that the upper storeys belong. Today’s tower replaces the one that partially collapsed in 1881 after a lightning strike. The cathedral was included in the local pilgrimage route, along with the Abbey of St Werburgh, when it acquired what was claimed to be a relic of the true cross during the Crusades. xxx
Back to the proverb
The glorious Romanesque interior of St John’s, Chester
There are four possible interpretations of the poem. The first is that posed by Bridge himself, which is that it was a “sarcastic” reference to the sheer wealth of the Bishops of Coventry and Lichfield. Douglas Jones highlights how the livings earned by those appointed to different roles at St John’s were doing very nicely, and were far more wealthy than all local churches other than the Rectory of St Mary’s. Between 1300 and 1430 six out of ninety-one canons of St John’s were presented by the King and three by the Prince of Wales, with twelve by the Pope. Twenty-seven were arranged by the Bishop, and when he was free to make his own choices, he “seems often to have regarded the prebendal status of the collegiate church as providing a source of additional pocket money for his relatives, his friends and his clerks” (Jones, p.17). Some of those appointed to St John’s rose to positions of great regional and national influence.
In a second possible scenario, the word “bare” could equate to “threadbare,” referring to the fact that the title of “Bishop of Chester” was no more than nominal, nothing more than the smoke and mirrors promoted by the bishopric of Coventry and Litchfield which, having abandoned Chester in favour of more profitable regions, had retained its rights over title to it, and had left St John’s as nothing more than a sinecure.
In a third possible interpretation, it is distinctly possible that it was a matter of considerable amusement within Chester that there was an ongoing quarrel between St John’s and St Werburgh’s, both wealthy institutions that stood above and over the general populace. In general, monastic institutions were obliged to pay an annual sum to the Bishopric, by whom they were overseen, and to whom they had to account for themselves. It was the ambition of many monasteries to escape both the financial obligation and the ongoing interference, and Chester had petitioned the pope for just such a relief. It was granted an exemption in 1363, but nothing at St Werburgh’s ever ran smoothly, and the ongoing fight to retain independence was always at odds with the interests of the Bishops, still nominally of St John’s, to resume its position of influence. This ongoing failure to entirely subdue St Werburgh’s and bring it back into the financial fold may also have been a source of amusement and comment amongst Chester’s populace about both St John’s and St Werburgh’s.
The cathedral in 1881 after the collapse of the top of the 16th century tower. Now in the Grosvenor Museum, Chester. Artist unknown.
The final possible interpretation (unless someone else has other ideas) could also refer to a loss of financial income for St John’s in the 15th century. Jones says that Owen Glyndŵr’s rebellion had had a considerable impact on ecclesiastical finances after 1430. It is again pure speculation, but it is possible that St John’s, like other ecclesiastical institutions in Chester, was suffering an unaccustomed shortage of funds, and that this was a source of some amusement in the local community.
In any one of these scenarios, the Bishop of Chester could be said to be “bare,” either in tones of irony due to his extreme wealth, or actually reflecting a documented change in the financial fortunes of Chester’s St John’s that was responded to in Chester with a distinct sense of schadenfreude. xxx
Final Comments
I particularly like two aspects of this proverb. The first is that it recalls a part of Chester’s history that is often forgotten, which is that St John’s was not only established as a cathedral but continued to perform the role into the 16th century. Secondly, I love that this proverb is fundamentally embedded in what must have been a topic of real controversy in Chester: a bishopric that provided its various incumbents and administrators with a high wage, but whose leaders were absent, claiming rights over Chester and drawing status from it without being any part of the city. When St John’s and its employees went through less profitable times, there was probably very little sympathy in the city. In fact, there was almost certainly a distinct sense of justice having been served. Whether the proverb refers to greater or less profitable times, there is a distinct sense that the relationship between the St John’s and the City was often far from harmonious and that the bishops themselves were bare of any form of substance. However it may be interpreted, this proverb captures the fact that Chester’s ecclesiastical past was not merely a barely remarked upon fact of life, but something that was noticed and discussed, not always in favourable terms.
For more about J.C. Bridge and this Cheshire Proverbs series,
see Cheshire Proverbs 1.
For the other proverbs in the series, click on the Cheshire Proverbs label
in the right hand margin, or see the end of the Archaeology, Heritage and Art page, where they are listed.
The east end of St John’s, walled off from the main church after the Dissolution
Sources:
Books and papers
Boughton, Peter 1997. Picturesque Chester. The City in Art. Chester City Council and Phillimore
Bridge, J.C. 1917. Cheshire Proverbs and Other Sayings and Rhymes Connected with the City an County Palatine of Chester. Phillipson and Golder (Chester)
Carrington, Peter 1994. Book of Chester. B.T. Batsford / English Heritage
Jones, Douglas 1957. The Church in Chester 1300-1540. Chetham Society
Pevsner, Nikolaus and Edward Hubbard 1971. The Buildings of England: Cheshire. Penguin Books
I went with a friend on a guided tour of the house, partly because it looked stunning, but also because I have been exploring the places with which Lady Eleanor Butler and Sarah Ponsonby might have had connections that either influenced or directly contributed to Plas Newydd. By “influence” I mean the decorative styles that could have had an impact on the way in which the decorative vision of Plas Newydd in Llangollen was born and developed. By “direct contribution” I mean the acquisition of the pieces of wood, glass, tiling, etc that make up the fabulous pastiche of decorative arts at Plas Newydd. Photographs were permitted outside, but banned in the interior (which is still a family home) so I have been unable to include anything much to supplement the descriptions below. xxx
Plas Newydd in Llangollen
Brynkinalt was of particular interest not only because, thanks to the excerpts from diaries and letters of Lady Eleanor and Miss Ponsonby, I knew that the ladies had been visitors to the house, but because reading up on the house informed me that it had been a Jacobean creation that had been radically altered in 1808 whilst the ladies were resident at Plas Newydd. If I understand Lady Eleanor correctly, she would not have been shy about asking for unwanted decorative features if they became available. My introductory piece about Plas Newydd is here, and the full series of five posts can be found here (including this one). xxxx
Brynkinalt
The Coflein description of Brynkinalt, is as follows:
Brynkinalt, with the new wing added in 1808
[T]his 1612 building now forms the central portion of the present brick built hall. The additions of 1808 include the single-storey wings on either side of the south front, which were further lengthened to include a billiard room and conservatory on either side. Two conservatories, now gone, were inserted into the south front between the cross wings. The west front was extended northwards to include an extensive service wing. All the extensions were castellated and the entire building was stuccoed. Work began in 1928 and stopped during the war to be taken up again in the 1950’s to reduce or remove the nineteenth century additions: the stucco was removed, except at the end of the east wing, and the large service wing which housed the kitchen at the rear was demolished except for the outer range which remains.
Brynkinallt consists of two principal floors with recessed bays, forward wings and a central porch. The doorway is has a Gothic pointed arch with a studded oak door and crest over, set below a label mould which rises to a string which extends between floors completely around the front elevation. The windows are ogee-moulded behind a chamfered surround, mullioned and transomed: 5-light to the porch chamber, 4-light to the ground floor of the wings, 3-light above and 3-light without transoms to the attics.
The interior is largely in a heavy Classical style. Of specific interest is a fine marble seventeenth century chimneypiece with a heraldic over-mantel with carvings. There is a great stair hall of 1808, with a gallery, Tuscan columns
The description gives something of a sense of how much Brynkinalt has changed since it was built in 1612. The Great Hall, for example, replaced a courtyard surrounded by some 50 rooms, so as large as it is, the house is now much more modest than it was originally.
Brynkinalt from the rear, showing some of the gothic-style lancet windows installed in around 1808
The exterior retains much of its Jacobean appearance, albeit with the addition of some Gothic-inspired elaborations. Removal of most of the 19th century external rendering has restored the splendid brickwork to view on the most visible parts of the house, although there is still much to be done at the rear, which gives a very good sense of the task that has already been undertaken. The interior has been radically remodelled, with only the oak-panelled hall providing a sense of the Jacobean house. Nearly all of the other Jacobean decorative arts and furnishings vanished due to Lady Charlotte’s re-imagining of Brynkinalt, and although the current interior is attractive and imaginative, it retains only pockets of its Jacobean heritage and it is not known what was done with the stripped-out Jacobean interior when those rooms were replaced. xxx
Links between the owners of the two houses
Anne Wellesley, Countess of Mornington, mother of Arthur Wellesley,who became the Duke of Wellington. Source: Wikipedia
The connections that tie these two houses together were very confusing at first. Family histories make my head spin, and not in an enjoyable way, but it was necessary to get to grips with the essentials. This was firstly because if the ladies were actively collecting when the house was being refurbished they might have benefitted from the unwanted decorative features and furnishings, and secondly because when Arthur Wellesely, the first Duke of Wellington, visited his grandmother Anne Hill-Trevor at Brynkinalt he also visited Eleanor and Sarah and, on at least one occasion, is said to have brought them decorative gifts.
The Viscountess Dungannon Anne Hill-Trevor (1715-1799), née Anne Stafford, wife of Arthur Hill-Trevor, the First Viscount of Dungannon (second creation, the first title having expired) lived at Brynkinalt and was partially responsible for introducing Lady Eleanor and Miss Ponsonby into local society, sharing both family and friends in Ireland with the two ladies. Anne’s daughter, also Anne (1742-1831), married the first Earl of Mornington, Garrett Welsley (1735-1781) with whom she had nine children, one of whom was Arthur Wellesley (1769-1852) who became the first Duke of Wellington. As mentioned above, Wellesley, before he was awarded his title, visited the ladies when on visits to his grandmother at Brynkinalt.
When the first Viscount died, Anne remained at Brynkinalt. Their only son having died, the title passed to one of their grandsons, who became the the second Viscount of Dungannon, another Arthur Hill-Trevor (1763-1837). It was his wife Charlotte (1763-1823) who initiated transformations of Brynkinalt, beginning in 1808, which removed much of the Jacobean architecture and interiors and added new kings featuring spacious rooms, large windows, tall ceilings, a plethora of ornamental columns and lightly coloured walls to replace dark panelling. Anne and Charlotte, between the date of Charlotte’s marriage (1795) and the first Viscountess Anne’s death (1799), were briefly contemporaries at Brynkinalt.
The diaries of Lady Eleanor report that even after Anne’s death in 1799 (the year that they received a gift of a cow from the estate, as well as venison and partridges sent with a messenger), visits to Brynkinalt continued. Elizabeth Mavor says that in 1805 “there were jaunts to Porkington, Brynkinalt [and] Aston,” and an earlier reference in the journal to playing cards at Brynkinalt suggest that they were still welcome visitors. Certainly in January 1805 they were at Brynkinalt when the journal provides a short account of meeting someone who had arrived in St Petersburg the day after the assassination of “Emperor Paul.” Other visits may well have coincided with the period in which Charlotte, the second Lady Dungannon (died 1823), was beginning to make her transformations in 1808. Mary Carryll, who had accompanied Lady Eleanor and Miss Ponsonby from Ireland as their servant and good friend, was on visiting terms with Lady Dungannon’s upper servants. The visits were probably less frequent, but there are clear indications that they continued, and Michael Freeman’s EArly Tourists in Wales website records that Lord and Lady Dungannon continued to visit the ladies at Plas Newydd. xxx
Direct contributions?
The removal of Jacobean features by Lady Charlotte probably included panelling, overmantels, doors, and furnishings that would not have fitted into her hybridized Neoclassical vision. Unwanted carvings and furnishings could have been snapped up by local dealers and salvage companies, and some of it may have been purchased by private collectors. As I have already mentioned above, if there were items going spare, it seems entirely likely that Lady Eleanor would not have been at all shy about asking for any unwanted decorative items.
Library window in Plas Newydd, with wyvern closely resembling that of Brynkinalt in the landing window at Brynkinalt at bottom left.
Sadly, in spite of the strong suggestion of the timings of Brynkinalt being remodelled as a fashionable country house over the period when Plas Newydd was becoming a showcase for earlier decorative arts, it is impossible, from the very few remaining pieces of Jacobean carving left at Brynkinalt to do anything more than speculate that some stripped-out pieces of Brynkinalt carving may now adorn the walls of Plas Newydd.
The stained glass, however, may be another story. Plas Newydd is stuffed with stained glass fragments that are patchworked together to fit particular spaces (I have written about the stained glass here, based on the survey by Mostyn Lewis). There is one tiny corner of Plas Newydd, a single quarry/tiny pane of glass that suggests that a piece of Brynkinalt stained glass has found its way to Plas Newydd (see photo above). In the Plas Newydd library there is a black wyvern (dragon with two legs) with a gold crown around its neck, standing on a red cushion, which had formerly been framed in a gold lozenge. This is such a good match for one at the top of the Great Hall staircase at Brynkinalt that it seems likely that the Plas Newydd fragment does derive, however it was acquired, from Brynkinalt. It would be interesting to see if there are other connections of this sort between the stained glass fragments at Plas Newydd and the surviving stained glass panes at Brynkinalt. xxx
Influence?
Strawberry Hill House, Twickenham. Source: Wikipedia
The absence of any formal research into any possible relationship between the two houses means that the evidence for direct influence is minimal at the moment, but the indirect influence in the form of the communication of ideas, could well be detected in Plas Newydd, and this lies in both the shape of the lancet windows and the stained glass.
When Plan Newydd is discussed, it is often in the same breath as Strawberry Hill in Twickenham, where Sir Hugh Walpole created an imaginative extravaganza to celebrate past styles, reinventing the Gothic to produce something that emulated architectural features but took a far more light-hearted, frivolous tone. The same comment was made on the Brynkinalt guided tour concerning the changes made by Charlotte, Viscountess of Dungannon. Lady Charlotte introduced Gothic-style window tracery in some rooms, arcading in the conservatory, castle-style turrets and crenellations, lending Gothic flourishes to a dominantly Neoclassical vision. Whether or not the Ladies ever saw images from Strawberry Hill is not clear at the moment. They had an a voracious appetite for experiencing the world vicariously via books and newspapers, so it is entirely possible. It is extremely likely, however, that they could have had first hand experience of the new Gothic windows and the other modifications at Brynkinalt.
Library side of the prismatic arch, Plas Newydd
The most obvious potential influence on the stained glass is the large window on a landing at the top of the stairs leading from the Great Hall to the gallery, in which the glass is arranged in a similar way to that in the bedrooms at Plas Newydd. There are also over-door panels of stained glass that would have been good models for the “prismatic arch” between the dining room and library at Plas Newydd. xxxxxx
General Yorke and George Hunter Robertson
Although General Yorke owned Plas Newydd between 1876 and 1890 and George Robertson owned it between 1890 and 1910, and both contributed to the decorative features of the house, it seems unlikely that either were linked in any material way with Brynkinalt. Any connections are likely to have been purely sociable. General Yorke was a member of the Yorke’s of Erddig, another aristocratic family on the Wales-England borders, so there may have been polite connections. George Robertson was a wealthy cotton trader from Liverpool, an outsider to the area with no previous links to Llangollen or Chirk. Although he was an important resident in Llangollen, there is no sign of any synergy between the two houses. In short, there is no indication that Brynkinalt or its owners had contributed anything to Plas Newydd after the deaths of Anne Hill-Trevor and Charlotte Hill-Trevor. xxx
Final Comments
Closer view of the wyvern at Plas Newydd. Apologies for the poor quality of the image, which is partly behind a curtain and on the wrong side of a rope barrier.
It will require a far more detailed investigation than my quick visit to attempt to unravel whether the connections between the owners of the two houses resulted in the transfer of any of the decorative arts from Brynkinalt to Plas Newydd. At the moment the presence of any direct and indirect influences are purely speculative. It probably occurs to anyone reading this that the most obvious thing to do would be to contact the Brynkinalt office to see if they have any additional input on the subject. I did try, but received no reply, so if anyone else has anything to contribute on the subject, please do get in touch.
The visit to Brynkinalt was interesting in its own right, with a lovely exterior including a small formal garden that was meticulously manicured, and was showing splendid late summer colour. There are many treats in store for the visitor in the interior, but the feature that completely stole my heart was the tiny first floor stone-built conservatory overlooking the valley below, an extravaganza of floral bliss with arcades and pillars. The bougainvillea alone was wonderfully exotic. For movie enthusiasts, the house was the the setting for Lady Chatterley’s Lover, and the stories about how this happened and the steps required to make the house ready for filming are a real eye-opener. It was more than somewhat daunting to hear about the sheer amount of work and the corresponding costs associated with renovating and maintaining the building, and there is still much to be done, particularly to the exterior. It was a good couple of hours well spent, and I recommend one of their open days. xxx
Panel on the rear of the house commemorating the 1808 alterations at Brynkinalt
Sources
Books and papers
Mavor, Elizabeth 1971, 2011 (2nd edition). The Ladies of Llangollen. A Study in Romantic Friendship. Moonrise Press.
Mavor, Elizabeth 1984. Life with the Ladies of Llangollen. Viking (hardback).
Rain has such narrow shoulders it will get everywhere
J.C. Bridge no.274, page 105
Beeston hill, seen from Churton, under a very black cloud
And oh boy. When it rains around here one is left in no doubt on the subject. It comes down in dense sheets of uncompromising verticality, bouncing when it hits pavements, roads and patios and it pools morosely wherever it gets the opportunity, seeping into every nook and cranny. The river Dee builds ominously between its banks, eventually overflowing into its floodplain, drenching footpaths and edging its way ominously towards the little hairdresser at the foot of Holt and isolating the new house above the footpath on the Farndon side of the bridge.
I lived in Aberdyfi on the mid-Welsh coast for two years immediately prior to coming to West Cheshire after leaving London, and I thought that I would never see such thoroughly determined rainfall ever again. But most Aberdyfi houses are on the side of a steep hill, mine included, and all the rainwater had the courtesy to run downhill and deposit itself into the sea. Cheshire, being flat and often poorly drained, is different. The wellington boots that I bought for mudlarking on the Thames foreshore when I lived in London have come into their own for use on what I once thought of as dry land. In west Cheshire, dry land is a very movable feast.
Joseph Bridge offers no comments about this proverb, presumably believing, very justifiably, that this one speaks for itself. Not all of them do, even when Bridge seems to think that they are perfectly transparent, but this one is completely unambiguous to a resident on the Welsh borders.
I started this series on Cheshire Proverbs a couple of years ago and then, during a big rearrangement, lost the Joseph Bridge book on which it was based: Cheshire Proverbs and other Sayings and Rhymes Connected with the City and County Palatine of Chester. I found it the other day, and even though there has been a big gap between the previous proverb in the series and this one, it seemed worth reviving. If you would like to know about his proverbs, sayings and rhymes, you can see the Introduction to the series here. Other proverbs in the series are listed here, at the very end of the Archaeology, Heritage and Art page.
The new Gladiators of Britain exhibition at the Grosvenor Museum fits the archaeology of a huge story very cleverly into a relatively small space, with a great many remarkable objects that have been very well chosen to illustrate the topic.
Thanks to Chester Archaeological Society I was lucky enough to be one of a group who were invited to a guided preview of the exhibition in late September 2025, just as it was opening. Many thanks to Pauline Clarke (Excursions Officer at Chester Archaeological Society) and Elizabeth Montgomery (Grosvenor Museum) for organizing our visit. Liz took us around the exhibit in two groups, and explained how the original exhibition had been organized by Glynn Davis, Senior Collections & Learning Curator from Colchester and Ipswich Museums, who had arranged for the loan of objects from both Chester’s Grosvenor Museum and London’s British Museum, partly to contextualize the remarkable and substantially important find of the Colchester Vase, shown both in the above poster and in photographs below. When this exhibition had closed, the various parties who had contributed to the Colchester exhibition were approached with a view to loaning the same objects to enable a travelling exhibition, which is what we see at the Grosvenor today, using objects and interpretation boards to introduce gladiatorial contests in Britain. xxx
The Chester Amphitheatre
Before talking about the exhibition I though that it might be useful to put it into the context of the Chester amphitheatre. For those completely happy with the history of the Chester amphitheatre, what amphitheatres were for and the roles they performed, do skip ahead.
Rome’s Colosseum, which opened in AD 80, shown on a sestertius coin, on display at the Gladiators of Britain exhibition
Gladiatorial conquests took place in amphitheatres. The best known amphitheatre in Europe is Rome’s own stone-built Colosseum, which remains even today a stunning piece of architectural ambition, remarkably preserved and awe-inspiringly vast. The exhibition has a video running on a small tablet that shows a super 3-D reconstructionof what the Colosseum may have looked like in the past (by Aleksander Ilic). It provides a sense not only of an amphitheatre’s structural components but also of its monumental grandeur, reflecting its importance to Roman ideas of the necessities of urban infrastructure and social identity.
Like all other Roman military centres and towns, Chester (Roman Deva), established c.AD 74/75 was provided with an amphitheatre, currently the largest known in Britain. As the museum curator, Elizabeth Montgomery, made clear when guiding us around the exhibit, that statement comes with the caveat that at the important northern centre of York (Eboracum) the amphitheatre has not yet been located, but the scale of the Chester amphitheatre is a very impressive feather in Deva’s cap. Located just beyond the southeast corner of the fortification, just beyond the city walls and the New Gate (formerly the Wolf Gate) on Little St John’s Street.
The Chester amphitheatre as it is today, showing the small room that housed the shrine to Nemesis at bottom right
Britain was attractive to Rome as a target for invasion partly because, at the edge of the known world, it was an quick win for both Julius Caesar and then Claudius. It was far more prestigious to expand the Empire to its geographical limit than to merely curate its existing holdings. It is clear too that by the first century AD the Romans stationed on the Rhine had begun to become materially aware of Britain via her trading relationship with Gaul, benefitting from her produce, raising an awareness of her resources, and providing a strong secondary reason both for the Claudian invasion and for sustained occupation. Although Britain remained a peripheral province in a world where Rome was the centre of the geographical and cultural universe, the province had successive governors who were responsible for maintaining Britain as a component part of the Empire, with most of the infrastructure to mark it out as Roman territory. Every major fortress and town boasted an amphitheatre and Chester had one from shortly after the establishment of the legionary fortress in the first century AD.
A wall map from the exhibition showing the location of 17 known amphitheatre or amphitheatre-like structures in Britain
An amphitheatre such as the one we have in Chester was multi-functional. Although usually exclusively associated in people’s mind with spectacular and often gory action, where trained gladiators fought both other humans and wild animals, it was also used to execute criminals, to host military displays, to offer less lethal forms of entertainment and to display religious ceremonies and rituals. It also doubled up as an additional training space for the military, only a very short march from the parade ground that was on today’s Frodsham Street, where training and drilling, manoeuvres and tactics, to prepare soldiers for the realities of military engagement against a potentially fractious population; and at the same time kept large numbers of men sufficiently busy to minimize the disputes that might break out.
Because many of the activities, particularly the gladiatorial events, attracted large audiences (in their 1000s), they had in common with football stadiums that they were designed to accommodate a large number of spectators, funnelling them via staircases and ramps to the raked seating, providing them with ease of access and clear visibility of the spectacle that unfolded below, a major task of civil engineering based on an understanding of crowd control. The large number of entrances at the Chester amphitheatre is indicative of this understanding of how people flowed into a central location.
Gladiatorial event shown on a 2nd century slate found in Chester, on display at the exhibition
Sadly, although the Chester amphitheatre may have been used following the abandonment of Britain in AD 410 as a local defensive enclosure, the amphitheatre’s vast walls were subsequently robbed for building materials so thoroughly that it was reduced to it to nothing more than its foundations and the arena floor. This denuded space was subsequently used as a dump, slowly filling in, and eventually becoming completely covered over and forgotten. Buildings and gardens obliterated all evidence, with only Little St John’s Street, bending in a puzzling way, following the old line of the amphitheatre walls. Perhaps the first hint that an amphitheatre may have been part of the Roman footprint of Chester was a slate plaque found in 1738 that showed a gladiatorial scene.
The Chester amphitheatre was rediscovered in 1929 when a new extension to the the Georgian and Victorian Dee House Ursuline Convent School, still sitting over the southern part of the amphitheatre, (and now known simply as Dee House), required a new basement for heating equipment, and the works that followed encountered Roman remains. These were quickly recognised by W.J. Williams of the Chester Archaeological Society, who knew of the slate plaque, and shortly afterwards trial trenches were excavated by the Grosvenor Professor Robert Newstead of the Grosvenor Museum and Professor J.P. Droop, confirming that this was indeed the Roman city’s amphitheatre.
Detail of John McGahey’s 1852 painting of Chester from an air balloon (with my rough indicator of location of amphitheatre in red show how completely the amphitheatre area was covered over). Source: Ainsworth and Wilmott 2005 / Chester City Council
The site was already under threat from a new road, preparatory work for which had already taken place to run it across the centre of what was now known to be the amphitheatre. The public and heritage organizations instantly responded, and different sources of pressure caused the plan to be cancelled. Chester Archaeological Society (C.A.S.) took the lead in raising funds to clear the site and enable access for further excavations. Although these plans were interrupted by the Second World War (during which air raid shelters were dug into the amphitheatre, destroying archaeological material), these excavations took place in the 1960s, lead by F. Hugh Thompson, who proposed a phased build for the amphitheatre. In the 1990s a proposal to develop the site as a heritage destination led to planning permission for the Grade II listed Dee House to be knocked down to enable the excavation of the land beneath, but this met with financial problems, the plans faded and the planning permission lapsed in 1995 (a real lost opportunity). In 2000 the site was again excavated, this time by Keith Matthews of Chester Archaeology, who revealed more data and came to different conclusions about the phasing the amphitheatre.
In January 2003 Chester City Council joined forces with English Heritage to initiate the Chester Amphitheatre Project, covering both the amphitheatre and flanking areas. Objectives included non-invasive survey, excavation where appropriate and publication of the findings. The work took place between 2004 and 2007, led by Dan Garner (Chester City Council) and Tony Wilmott (English Heritage). The survey and excavations between 2005-2006 led by Tony Wilmott and Dan Garner, published in 2018, were particularly informative. The presence of the listed building Dee House on the other side of the site, although derelict, has prevented any further progress being made.
Phasing of the amphitheatre shown in blue (first amphitheatre) and orange (second amphitheatre). Source: Ainsworth and Wilmott 2005, p.23
The outcome of all this work has been a narrative of the large oval (rather than elliptical) amphitheatre’s two-phase construction. The first phase was erected early in the fortress’s history probably shortly after the establishment of the legionary fortress after AD 74/75. The early date of the amphitheatre at around AD80 is not unusual, with other early examples known from, for example, Dorchester, Silchester, Cirencester and Caerleon. The second amphitheatre has destroyed some of the evidence of the first. The first amphitheatre was built in more than one phase, but it appears to have matured as a wooden scaffold holding seating, with a wall at its back, and another wall separating the seating from the arena. The access to upper levels was via an external staircase, an arrangement that is otherwise only known from Pompeii at a similar date. An interesting feature of the early amphitheatre phase is a small painted shrine dedicated to the deity Nemesis, which was retained in the second amphitheatre.
The second main phase of amphitheatre construction resulted in Britain’s biggest example of this type of building. A new outer wall was built following the line of the earlier amphitheatre, a vast 2m (6ft 7ins) thick and 1.8m (5ft 11in) outside the outer wall of the first structure. The original four entrances identified in the first amphitheatre were retained but new entrances were added that lead to the interior (vomitoria) to allow access to upper seating, suggsting that the outer wall was much higher than the earlier amphitheatre, an impression that is reinforced by the sheer size of the new outer wall. As Willmot and Garner say (2018) “its size; the number, complexity and organization of entrances and the treatment of the exterior facade all place it in an architectural class beyond that of the other amphitheatres in the province.” It is estimated that the new amphitheatre could have accommodated up to between 7500-8000 spectators. It is to this phase that the tethering stone belongs, as well as a coping stone (rounded stone topping for a wall) that contains the inscription “SERANO LOCUS” (see photo of both at the end of the post).
Julian Baum’s incredibly life-like reconstruction of Roman Chester, showing the dominance of the amphitheatre, with the parade ground to its north. See more details of the amphitheatre on Julian Baum’s site at https://jbt27.artstation.com/projects/bKDayr?album_id=332464 Copyright Julian Baum, used with kind permission (click to expand)
As well as being essentially a part of the urban townscape, albeit excluded from the fortress, the tall, impressive structure that would have made an impression far beyond the immediate environs of the city. The surrounding landscape would have been in no doubt that the Ro mans had arrived, settled, and were here to stay, their amphitheatre not unlike a medieval cathedral in its powerful messaging. This is abundantly clear in Julian Baum’s reconstructions, such as the one here, demonstrating how the amphitheatre could act as a symbol of Roman presence, sophistication and power. Another of Julian’s reconstructions, showing the city at sunset, is on display in the exhibition, and both clearly demonstrate how dominant a feature the amphitheatre must have been and how important it was to the inhabitants of the fortress. xxx
The Gladiators of Britain Exhibition
As there are no written records of the events that took place in Britain’s amphitheatres, the focus of the exhibition is on archaeological data and its interpretation. There are some very short inscriptions in stone that hint at the importance of the gladiatorial events, but the bulk of the data that informs ideas of what remains are the amphitheatres of Britain themselves, and the objects that record the spectacles that people attended. The exhibition has brought together some very evocative pieces. All the photos below are from the exhibition.
The exhibition does not attempt to analyse the Chester amphitheatre and nor does it set out to answer the bigger questions about how gladiators were trained, where they came from, or how they were deployed. What it does superbly well is demonstrate how the gladiatorial spectacle was captured both in massive architectural endeavour and in material remains preserved in the archaeological record.
The Colchester Vase
The exhibition opens with some details about the amphitheatres in which gladiatorial confrontations took place. Not only is there a video by Alexander Illci showing a reconstruction of Rome’s magnificent Colosseum, but there is a fabulous, splendidly detailed coin showing the amphitheatre in raised relief, dating from AD 80. The exhibition then goes on to explore the world of gladiators via specially chosen objects that reflect the impact how amphitheatres and gladiators contributed to o Roman urban life, even far from the heartland of the Roman Empire.
The Colchester Vase, being perhaps the key object that inspired the exhibition, is worth taking time over when you visit. Apart from the fact that it is superbly well crafted, a piece of real excellence, it tells more than one story, with each component moulded in high relief. To ensure that the vessel can be appreciated in its entirety, a mirror has been placed behind it, and the lighting highlights the relief figures very clearly. It shows a gladiator versus another gladiator, a gladiator versus a beast, and beasts chasing beasts.
Gladiatorial Helmet from Hawkedon, Suffolk
Another key object in the exhibition is the helmet from Hawkedon in Suffolk, one of the most important objects to be found in connection with the history of gladiators in Britain. Unlike the Colchester Vase, or any of the other objects depicting gladiatorial action discussed below, this was design to participate in the action, worn to protect the gladiator and give him the best chance of survival. The frontpiece is modern, added to give a complete impression of what the original item looked like. Analysis of the metal suggests that it was made on the continent and hints that both it and perhaps its owenr may have travelled to Britain for participation in the amphtheatre.
Amongst many other discoveries during the excavations , the one that confirms that gladiatorial bouts undoubtedly took place in the Chester amphitheatre was a huge sandstone tethering stone, which tied animals and some human contestants alike to a central point to prevent them seeking refuge at the sidelines where they could not be viewed by the full circle of spectators (shown at the end of the post). This somewhat daunting object is on display in the exhibition. Although by far the crudest of the many lovely objects on view, it is the one that moves the exhibition from art-works to action, forcing the visitor to engage with the the very savage and bloody nature of the contests. It is one thing to look at a pretty scene on a vase or stone; it is quite another to be confronted with the block that physically chained the victim to its unavoidable fate.
Second century pottery lamp from Italy in the Gladiators of Britain exhibition
Although the gladiators were the stars of the events, the members of the audience were just as important for the success and ambience of the amphitheatres, and many of the other objects in the exhibition reflect the sense of involvement and enjoyment that individuals took from amphitheatre events. One item that clearly demonstrates this sense of involvement is A coping stone, inscribed SERANO LOCUS (shown at the very end of this post), may have been part of the arena wall, perhaps marking the place (“locus”) of a spectator named Seranus. Although the more remarkable of the items in the exhibition, such as the Colchester Vase, were probably specially commissioned, other items are far less prestigious. The many oil lamps in the exhibition, showing scenes of gladiators in action, were probably purchased like souvenirs when peformances were taking place. It is thought that traces of outer buildings and the remains of food items at Chester represent snack stalls, and it is entirely likely that souvenirs could also have been sold in the same vicinity, or after the event in marketplaces.
Altar dedicated to Nemesis by Sextius Marcianus, found in a shrine at the amphitheatre.
Also on display is the shrine to the goddess Nemesis, apparently retained in the second amphitheatre after being built for the first one, adds a religious dimension to proceedings, a feature known from other amphitheatres in the Empire as well. Representing fate, Nemesis was appropriate to the prospective fortunes of both winner and loser. Nemesis was particularly appropriate for a gladiatorial outlook, whether winner or loser, representing fate. It was dedicated by the centurion Sextius Marcianus who had it made after experiencing a vision.
There are a great many more objects in the exhibition. Each has been well chosen to show different aspects of the gladiatorial experience, and each is well explained in the labelling. A wide variety of materials are represented, including stone, metals, wood and pottery, and many are decorated with great imagination. Some were component parts of the amphitheatres themselves. Others were items used in the arena, whilst a wide range of items were designed for the home. Most of these were the objects that people chose to commission or purchase, took into their homes and cared for, maintaining them in beautiful condition. As the exhibition demostrates so clearly, when they were buried, broken or lost in transit, they became archaeological remnants, and in doing so became threads of several different lines of investigation that continue to feed into broader research about the Roman occupation of Britain.
As well as the objects themselves, the information labels and interpretation boards not only inform, but create an all-encompassing experience that helps visitors to get to grips with a fascinating if gory subject matter. The interpretation boards are beautifully designed, giving the exhibition a good sense of coherence. Fortunately there is no gore on show, so this is entirely child-friendly (with games and dress-up outfits available for children) and whilst the exhibition does not judge, it leaves visitors in little doubt that this was a form of entertainment that potentially had a life or death outcome, whether for human or animal.
The exhibition may be small but it makes a terrific impact, making superb use of the space available, and seeking at every turn to inform and involve. The art work on the interpretation boards is attractive, and there is a lightness of touch to the whole presentation and the delicate artwork that manages to complement rather than overwhelm the exhibits and the themes. It is really well done. Don’t miss it!
With many thanks to the Grosvenor Museum’s Liz Montgomery for a really engaging guided tour of the exhibition.
The exhibition is free of charge to enter, and the museum opening times are shown on its website: https://grosvenormuseum.westcheshiremuseums.co.uk/visit-us/. Do note, as shown above, that group tours are available on Mondays, and you can phone up to arrange them. The exhibition is on in Chester until January 25th 2026.
Enjoy!
For anyone wanting to gain an impression of what the Chester amphitheatre may have looked like, the following YouTube video by 3-D modeller Julian Baum in collaboration with archaeologist Tony Willmot may help to visualize the building:
Sources and further reading:
Books and Papers
Hunt cup from Colchester
Ainsworth, Stewart and Tony Wilmott 2005. Chester Amphitheatre. From Gladiators to Gardens. Chester City Council and English Heritage
de la Bédoyère, Guy 2001. The Buildings of Roman Britain. Tempus
de la Bédoyère, Guy 2013. Roman Britain: A New History. Thames and Hudson
Carrington, Peter1994. Chester. B.T. Batsford / English Heritage
Wilmott, Tony and Dan Garner 2018. The Roman Amphitheatre of Chester. Volume 1, The Prehistoric and Roman Archaeology. Oxbow (also available on Kindle, although not all of the tables are fully legible)
Based in Churton Peter Carrington’s excellent guided walk of Roman Chester during the Festival of Ideas. Andie Byrnes, July 6th 2025 https://wp.me/pcZwQK-7OD
Beautiful feathers on a bird of prey at Burton, Wirral
Yesterday seemed, at first, to have been doomed from the start. I was supposed to be driving to Aberdyfi in mid-Wales to do something specific, but 20 minutes from home, already running very late, realized that I had left two components essential to the task on the kitchen table. Having returned home and collected the required items, I was leaving the house and went to take a quick snapshot in my garden of a squirrel running upside down along a power line and rapidly closing on an oblivious turtle dove, and found to my dismay that the camera couldn’t read the SD card. Nooooooo! I knew I had a spare somewhere, but where? Ridiculous to go to Aberdyfi on a sunny blue-skied day like this without a camera. After half an hour of fruitless searching I picked up the phone and cancelled my visit. Twenty minutes later I had found the wretched thing. Instead of the planned expedition, I found myself grabbing the camera and car keys before heading up the Wirral to Burton to park up along the estuary and go for a very fine walk along part of the Wirral section of the King Charles III England Coast Path. I hadn’t even got out of the car when I saw the above bird of prey, which politely held position whilst I scrambled out of the car. A perfect way to turn around a very unpromising start to the day.
I have made a short visit to the estuary cycle track and walk in the past, simply to get a good look at the purported Iron Age promontory fort on Burton Point, but although it was enjoyable, it was a short stroll because the skies opened and I got drenched. Today, with no risk of rain, I decided to walk from Burton towards Parkgate, which I guessed to be about an hour’s walk each way. When I reached the “You are Here” board (with which the walk is dotted at key points) at Moorside, alongside Parkgate Spring and on the very edge of Parkgate, this was a full hour.
Parking is easy along the section of Station Road that lies along the estuary for the Burton to Moorside (near Parkgate) section of the “King Charles III England Coast Path” (What3Words: ///glows.lung.headsets). Source: Google Maps
Parking for this particular walk is along the section of Station Road that runs along the side of the estuary, indicated by the red circle on the map.
The walk itself begins along the section of Denhall Lane that turns along the side of the estuary and passes a café, as indicated by the black arrow on the map. Although vehicles are permitted as far as the café (just beyond the left edge of the map), they are banned beyond this point.
This first stretch of metalled lane is dominated by dog walkers and cyclists. Do keep an ear open for the cyclists as they can pick up a lot of speed along the lane and don’t always give a lot of notice of their impending arrival. The path goes through various changes. After some time it parts from the lane and becomes much more of a footpath with rough stone underfoot, which probably accounts for why the cyclists vanish from the scene at this point. At one stage it becomes a track across a field, although there is a route around this in wet weather that diverts inland for a while. The entire walk is well maintained with pedestrian gates and bridges where needed. One field had horses in it, so do take care if you are walking dogs.
Scenically, the walk is always split between two different experiences to left and right. The views across both wetlands and former wetlands to the Welsh foothills to the southwest are lovely on a sunny day, and you can keep an eye open for bird life. On the other side of the path, immediately hugging its edges, there is an almost uninterrupted run of very fine hedgerows and trees. At this time of year there is not a great deal to see on the estuary, although I was delighted to see lovely white egrets in a distant blue pool, as well as a couple of birds of prey hovering splendidly overhead. Most of the flowers in the estuary have gone over, but the autumnal leaves, berries, rose-hips and other fruits of the shrubs and hedges and the multiple colours of the changing leaves on trees along the paths were endless and superb, really gorgeous against a blue sky with the sun shining on them.
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Nearing Neston I spotted a line of vast red sandstone blocks extending out into the estuary vegetation, and a small spur of land also extends out at this point. An information board explains that this is part of the Neston Colliery, Denhall Quay. There is a particularly good book about the collieries, The Neston Collieries, 1759–1855: An Industrial Revolution in Rural Cheshire (Anthony Annakin-Smith, second edition), published by the University of Chester, which I read and enjoyed a few years ago. The sandstone blocks are massive, and as well as retaining original metalwork, one of them has become a memorial stone, as has one of the trees on the small spur of land. The line of sandstone, now a piece of industrial archaeology, is a very small hint of the extensive work that once took place here, but is an important one. The author of the above-mentioned book refers to it in a short online page here, from which the following is taken:
There are still some signs today of the old mining operations. Most prominent is Denhall Quay, the remains of which still jut out into the Dee Estuary. This was built in 1791 and was used to ship coal to North Wales, Ireland and occasionally to foreign countries, as well as inland via newly-built canals. Also, if you know where to look it is possible to trace the location of many of the shafts that were once in use, including one hidden behind a brick wall in Riverside Walk. Easier and arguably more rewarding to find is The Harp Inn! The building was standing in the mines’ earliest days and records show it was a public house for the miners no later than 1813 and probably much earlier. It has several photos on its walls from the mines’ later days.
This is the point that I turned around and walked back. The image immediately above the map shows point where the Parkgate Spring emerges, very audible but not actually visible.
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There are very few places to sit down along the walk, so I would recommend that if you need to rest your legs occasionally, you take your own portable seating. Regarding refreshments, I have mentioned Net’s Café, near the Burton end. I haven’t visited and apparently there’s no website, but it is just off Denhall Lane and it is listed on Trip Advisor here. There is also a very good pub called The Harp, which I actually have visited, with outdoor tables immediately overlooking the wetlands towards the Welsh hills, just outside Little Neston. The food being served there looked excellent, and I can give a solid thumbs-up for the cider. The pub was particularly well situated for my return from Parkgate as the zoom lens on my camera, a particular beauty that has been worryingly on the twitch for weeks, suddenly stopped working and was now, just to ram home the overall message, rattling. A glass of cider and a seat in the sun were perfect for jury-rigging the wretched thing so that the zoom now worked like an old-fashioned telescope and the camera’s autofocus, which was refusing point-blank to engage in conversation with the lens, could be operated manually on the lens itself. Sigh. New lens on order.
If you can do this walk in September when the berries are at their best, do take the opportunity, because it is stunning, particularly on a sunny day. And all on the flat too, so entirely appropriate for unwilling legs. xxx
John Douglas. A photograph that apparently first appeared in “Building News” in 1890. Source: Wikipedia
For those who are interested in local heritage, it is probably not possible to live in or near Chester without knowing the name of the architect John Douglas. John Douglas (1830-1911) was a prolific architect, working right at the end of the Victorian era but demonstrating a fundamental affiliation with Victorian architectural ideals. According to Chantal’s research, between the buildings he built and those that he renovated and adapted, he contributed to over 500 buildings in Britain. Not much is known about him, but he trained in Lancashire where a new middle class, rising in both wealth and influence, was creating an unprecedented demand for domestic, commercial and civic architecture. His are some of the most imaginative and and engaging of Chester’s Victorian buildings, providing the city with an important additional layer of interest and texture. He was also responsible for other local buildings at Eaton Hall (including Eccleston), Aldford and Port Sunlight, as well as many other UK locations. Although never bowing to the past in his architectural inventions, Douglas incorporated elements of Chester’s earlier architectural styles into his unique creations, remaining sensitive to the original city whilst leaving a highly distinctive and creative legacy of his own.
Grosvenor Park Street
Our guide on the Heritage Open Day walk was Chantal Bradburn, art historian and head of Outreach at the University of Chester, who had done such a splendid job several days previously, introducing a large group of us to the Western Command at the Churchill Building. Called “John Douglas in Chester,” this was a brand new walk, and a great idea to add it to the many events offered last week. Instead of taking us on a route-march of every building that Douglas built in Chester, Chantal selected a representative few, which both captured different aspects of his work and at the same time demonstrated an underlying thread between them all. By choosing a careful sample of Douglas’s total Chester output, she was able to impart far more knowledge about both Douglas and the individual buildings than if she had tried to include more, although she did finish up the tour with recommendations for other buildings to inspect nearby. As with her Churchill Building talk, and perhaps even more so, it is impossible to do any sort of justice to all the facts that she imparted, and particularly to do any justice at all to her ability to contextualise the architecture within its social and economic environment, as well as discussing it in art-historical terms, so this is just a short taster of a really great guided walk.
We started at the lodge in the Grosvenor Park, an obviously Victorian take on the Tudor half-timbered buildings that partly define Chester’s heritage, commissioned by the Grosvenor estate to provide a touch of additional elegance to the second Marquess of Westminster’s 1867 philanthropic donation of the land to create a park.
Grosvenor Park Lodge
The Grosvenor Park Lodge by John Douglas
Grosvenor Park Lodge from the rear
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Detail of carved woodwork on the Grosvenor Park Lodge: “Nobilitatis virtus non stemma character”
With Ruabon brick at its base and half-timbering at first floor level, it features sculptural elements and carvings that provide it with real charm. Douglas apparently thought it entirely appropriate to add a medieval-style sandstone extension to his building, which as Chantal pointed out, reflects the multi-period character of many of Chester’s buildings.
It became clear as we proceeded on the walk that this willingness to go with the flow of Chester architecture by echoing some of its variety and diversity, without ever trying to replicate it, was a key characteristic of Douglas’s approach. He always preferred local materials, and this too indicates a real wish to connect with Chester’s earlier architectural heritage. It’s great to see it being used as a café, providing a useful service on the edge of the park.
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Our next stop was just over the road, on Grosvenor Park Street. The 1872 Grade II* listed houses, numbers 6-11 on Grosvenor Park Street make up of a row of terraced houses and a Zion Chapel have long been a favourite of mine. Together they are a fabulous, wildly imaginative mixture of different elements all of Ruabon red brick, including gothic style features, turrets, and a dozen other twiddly bits. It is always wonderful to see how brick can be used to create elements that are more conventionally associated with stonework in this country. Whether the mullioned windows, some with original leading, let in a lot of light I doubt, but they are wonderfully ornamental. It was particularly interesting that Douglas built these houses on land that he owned, renting them out afterwards. He did not skimp on materials or architectural design in order to make a bigger profit. This set of buildings argues that he really cared about not only the quality of his own work, but about what he as an individual could contribute to Chester.FULL RUN HERE
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Perhaps one of his best known buildings in this part of extramural Chester is quite unlike either his lodge or his fantastic domestic extravaganza. However, as Chantal pointed out, the Chester Public Baths are still in proportion, a good fit with the domestic buildings in this part of Chester in spite of its being a public leisure facility. Chantal positioned the idea of swimming and the provision of a public baths in the social context of Victorian values and ideals, but made it clear that Douglas had put his own particular spin on the resulting building. Both practical and decorative, it is a very fine example of a building that is at once distinctively Victorian but also takes admired aspects from Chester’s past.
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Further down Bath Street, I would not have guessed at first sight that the Grade II listed buildings on the right were another Douglas innovation, but the signs are there when you pause to look more closely, and particularly when you have Chantal’s expertise to provide detailed knowledge and insights. Except for the building at the far south, nearest to the Baths, which is more typical of other Douglas buildings nearby, the main run of houses is built of buff sandstone, quite different in material, colour, and texture from other Douglas buildings and, for that matter, from anything else that I recall seeing in Chester. It dates to 1903, quite late in Douglas’s life, and perhaps this accounts for some of the distinctive features discussed by Chantal. There is an echo of the buildings on Grosvenor Park Street, but this has a much more monumental feeling to it and even with the decorative features and the short spires, seems less light-hearted and, in spite of the ornamental features, a little more monumental in feel.
If you follow the building all the way round the corner you will see that the houses link to a building built by Douglas to house Prudential Assurance. It’s name today, Lombard House, reflects a later use by the eponymous bank. To the left of the entrance, just around the corner, there is a charming female statue inset into a niche holding a snake and book. This is Prudence, one of the four cardinal virtues (the others being Justice, Fortitude and Temperance), adopted by Prudential Assurance as their emblem in 1848 for her qualities of foresight, intelligence, thoughtfulness and knowledge. Although more traditionally shown with a mirror representing self-awareness, a book is also part of her iconography, representing knowledge, wisdom and and good judgement. xxx
xxx Our final stop for the day took in two architectural features, bringing us into the city within the walls – the wrought iron extravaganza that sits on top of the Georgian East Gate, with its splendid clock, and the former Grosvenor Club building immediately to its west. These both speak of late Victorian Chester’s ambition and its delight in ornament and display, giving an unmistakeably Victorian sparkle to this part of the city. Chantal gave us details about the clock that I hadn’t heard before concerning its construction, as well as an entertaining factoid about the date of construction, reminding me that it is very easy to become complacent about even such a dominant landmark. I had known nothing about the Grosvenor Club (including its name and purpose) so this too was a learning curve.
The Grosvenor Club
The Grosvenor Club on the right with the rest of Eastgate Street taken from the top of the East Gate bridge, under the clock.
When the tour was over, and Chantal had pointed us at other Douglas buildings in the vicinity so that we could investigate further on our own, she was still surrounded by a group of people asking many questions, and this had been the trend of the entire walk, with tons of information being imparted and lots of questions following. Keep an eye open for this walk being offered in the future. It’s a good one!
The nearby Parker’s Buildings
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Grosvenor Park Lodge detail
Thinking about John Douglas and his work over the following few days, and looking up other examples of his work, his buildings generally aim to provide an attractive environment of well-being, based on the idea that past and present reinforce one another in a very comfortable and attractive way. Although many of the John Douglas buildings were impressive, and some of them were intended to be imposing, others were homes along streets that made use of vernacular features both from Chester, with inspiration taken from European cities, and from the medieval period onwards. His preference for local materials is clearly demonstrated, and his love of decorative features is a real celebration of life. He took a modern approach to architecture, incorporating traditional styles into his new interpretive schemes, as well as Germanic and French ideas that gave his work a rather more cosmopolitan edge than other architecture in the city, and in doing so added real value to Chester. The best of the Victorian architecture of Chester simply oozes a sense of excitement and self-confidence about their lived present and their anticipated future, and John Douglas reflects this unfurling era with real exuberance. His contributions to places like wealthy Eccleston and Aldford are also attractive, but perhaps Douglas is at his most appealing when contributing to Port Sunlight, the village built in the late 1880s by Lord Lever for his factory workers, contributing his skills with around 30 other architects, to create a very different type of community. It must have been a real pleasure to live in one of his remarkable houses. It is very nice to see that the ones that I have found to date seem to be very well maintained. It is only a shame that subsequent architectural projects in Chester have only occasionally managed to live up to both his high standards and his creativity.
On Wednesday 17th September, as part of Heritage Open Day, Paul Newman from the Cheshire Archives and Tim Brown from the architectural firm Ellis Williams, explained to a well-attended audience at the Grosvenor Museum how the new archive project had been rolled out and what we can expect next year when the new Chester building opens. I am dying to get my hands on the Cheshire Lunatic Asylum records that they hold, having already written a long screed about the asylum between 1854 and 1870 (across four posts here), so I was attending the event with a real sense of anticipation.
The Cheshire Archives, which since 1986 have been located in Duke St in Chester, closed in 2022, having won a Lottery grant to build two brand new buildings. The former Duke Street premises of the Archives were in a set of lovely Victorian buildings, which were once warehouses of the legendary Browns Department Store, but the Archives were beginning to outgrow them. The archive collections go back to the mid 12th century, and continue to be added today, representing different aspects of community life, working and domestic, at different periods. As its role became more important, the Archive outgrew the building, with boxes that would reach 8km if laid end to end, and it had a number of environmental issues as well as providing less than ideal facilities for both staff and researchers. Targets to reach a larger and more diverse audience were difficult, and it became clear that a move was the only realistic solution.
An initial investment of National Lottery money to explore the project in 2020 was successful, and a full National Lottery Fund grant was subsequently allocated, with work began in earnest in 2022. The locations in Crewe and Chester will spread the collection between east and west sides of Cheshire to provide accessible storage for the archive collections in conditions that are much more favourable. Outreach programmes will be more viable, reaching a much wider audience of different ages and backgrounds. Digital access will be much improved, with new ways to access local collections and historical data, including a postcode search and community-selected highlights referred to as “Gems.” At the same time, the salt mines in Winsford will continue to store other records, which are available to order to either location with a one-week turnaround. A permanent exhibition will be set up, and exhibition spaces will eventually be available for those using the archives. The new offices will open in 2026, and the project will continue as a measuring and monitoring exercise into 2027.
The architectural firm Ellis Williams, who had undertaken the ambitious and successful conversion of Chester’s Story House, was appointed to develop both of the new buildings. Interestingly, although they have many of the same internal features, their appearance is very dissimilar. Both have very modern appearances, but each has been adapted to its own immediate neighbourhood. Initial design ideas were more radical, but certainly in the Chester case the emphasis soon shifted towards meeting planning requirements for some degree of continuity between the proposed new building and the surrounding architectural context and local character. Documents detailing some of the plans can be found here: https://www.cheshirestoryshared.org/home/the-plan
The new archive building in Chester will be located on the mainly residential Lightfoot Street, which runs along the railway line behind the Chester railway station. This has created some challenges in terms of accessibility, and the Council were unwilling to sell the entire site, so parking is confined to 35 spaces.
A low wall with indented panels on Chester Lightfoot Street, which separates the archive site from the road. Source: Google Maps.
The site is divided from the road by a low wall with indented sections, and it was a planning requirement that this should be preserved. The idea here is to knock through some of the indented panels, whilst leaving others in tact, replacing those that are to be knocked through with wrought iron artwork, so that the Archive site is visible through the panels, creating a linkage between both sides of the wall. There is a slight slope of around 2.5m downhill from the road level, which requires stairs and slopes to enable ease of access. Parking will include spaces for school coaches and there will be a loading bay at the rear. The shape of the building itself will echo the twin-gabled shape of railway sheds and platform roofs, but is super-modern in design, and it will feature an “active frontage,” a term that refers to the integration of the building with the street onto which it faces. Work began in 2017.
Inside, the two-storey Chester building will be split between a public-facing space on the ground floor and a more staff-orientated space on the first floor. It will total 3000 sq ft (c.270 sq m). The ground floor foyer, which although north-facing should be light-filled, will be an exhibition space, and will include a theatre area with movable walls, lighting and seating, to ensure maximum flexibility. A help desk will be located at the rear. The research rooms will have desks for research, with a total of six computers available at any one time (most people apparently bring their own kit) and there will also be a chill-out area. The first floor will include, with archive storage in rolling racks, offices and meeting rooms. Energy considerations have been factored in, making best possible use of the available technologies, and various levels of security and fire-safety measures are part of the overall plans.
The foundations have been established and work is underway on the lower level brickwork, whilst a steel frame and roof have also been erected. Archaeologists from Oxford Archaeology had been given time to carry out an assessment, but found very little of interest beyond sundry 19th century railway features. The resulting report can be found here.
The archives will probably be open for a 5-day week. I should have asked whether this was Monday to Friday, or whether a weekend day would also be included, but it did not occur to me at the time. I am really looking forward to visiting the new Cheshire Archives building when it opens in late summer 2026, and experimenting with some of their upcoming digital services. In the meantime there is a website showcasing some of the Archive’s activities at Cheshire’s Archives: A Story Shared.
Thanks very much to Paul Newman and Tim Brown for not only delivering a terrifically informative presentation but for answering the numerous audience questions.
The portico dates from 1997, but the original Neo-Georgian military Western Command building can be seen behind it.
With many thanks to Chantal Bradburn for an excellent lecture in the Churchill Building in the University of Chester’s Queen’s Campus. Chantal is the University’s Outreach representative, with a strong background in art history and a particular interest in architecture in its social context. Her talk, entitled “Western Command (Churchill Building),” covered the design and original purpose of the building as the headquarters of the Western Command, including the fascinating underground bunkers, and the building’s subsequent phases of use. The presentation and the subsequent walk around the building’s exterior brought the Western Command to life. Chantal’s ability to convey an impression of the building as it was in military times, based partly on her research and partly on feedback from people who have attended the talk or contacted her over the years, was of critical importance, because the interior had been completely re-envisioned in grandiose style by the subsequent bank, and converted once again in more pragmatic terms into the University of Chester’s Business School. Only the exterior retains the essential character of the Western Command building.
The eastern wing of the Western Command (Churchill Building) gives a good impression of how the building appeared when it was first built
The building, then known as Capital House, was completed in around 1938, almost certainly in response to the threat of war. Neo-Georgian is not my favourite of the various architectural experiments in Chester. I have grumbled on and off about the Wheeler Building on the blog for years, and there are a number of more modest buildings dotting the streets of the historic city whose architects seem to believe that slapping some symmetrical rectangular windows into plain blocks of undifferentiated brickwork will do the trick nicely, completely missing the point of refined elegance and delicate embellishments that characterized Georgian harmonies. On the other hand, as Chantal pointed out, at least in the case of the Churchill Building there are good reasons for this style, which is better than most of its siblings, relating not merely to the practicalities of budget constraints for such a large building.
The eastern entrance to the Churchill Building with subtle nods to Art Deco
The importance of establishing a dignified military presence referenced the power and prestige of the city’s Georgian predecessors, which were themselves influenced by Classical architecture, whilst some low-key features nod to both the medieval military past and, in an even more subtle way, other contemporary styles. I would not have noticed these had Chantal not pointed them out. Although the subsequent Northwest Securities bank slapped a gigantic Classical-style portico on the front, the original building consisted of flat-roofed blocks that provided an impressive frontage, which relies for its impact on the size of its footprint rather than the height of its two-storey walls. Chantal pointed out that the position of the building was strategically very fine, with its views over the river and the city beyond, only matched in its vantage points by the site chosen for the castle.
As the northwest HQ for intelligence on what was quite literally Britain’s western front during the war, the personnel serving in the Western Command building had a critical role not only leading up to and during the war, but for a surprising amount of time after it. Chantal told us a great many stories about the role of the building and the people who worked there, highlighting the complexities that different levels of security caused for both employees and contractors, and emphasizing the degree of secrecy that was associated with the activities that took place within the Churchill Building.
Bunkers excavated into the sandstone at the Churchill Building. Source: 28DaysLater
To the east of the building, up-river, the remarkable and extensive underground bunkers were built to provide shelter and a command centre should it become necessary, both during and after the Second World War. They extend from the level of the building down towards the river. It is reputed that Churchill, who is known to have visited the building, may have met there with President Dwight D. Eisenhower and General Charles de Gaulle. No documentation supports this view, but there are apparently anecdotal accounts that support the possibility. The bunkers are now too dangerous to visit (see a photograph of a point of collapse on the 28DaysLater website). The sandstone through which former miners in the army excavated to create the bunkers is sponge-like, attracting damp that is not helping with the stability of the underground structures. Chantal showed photographs and explained past survey work and future plans (dependent as always on funding).
The building passed to the Royal Army Pay Corps in 1972, and from 1972 it was taken over as offices for a banking corporation. The presentation took place in a huge room with an enormous table, all very glossy and highly polished, and heavily influence by Art Deco designs. This was part of the bank’s improbable legacy. It is quite staggering how the bank took over a military building and turned it into an extrovert and financially corrosive expression of self-indulgent excess. Where these details have survived, the legacy is huge fun, but quite mad. The bank’s vast portico, converting the Neo-Georgian blocks into a pseudo Classical temple, is equally pretentious. I am very fond of the University, having had a great time doing some post-graduate research there a couple of years back, but it really does seem to have saddled itself with buildings that for all their scale and practicality are amongst the least aesthetically charming of the various Cestrian styles. In their favour, the University does make the most of them.
The opening of the Churchill Building by John Spencer Churchill (centre in grey suit), when it became part of the University of Chester in October 2015. Source: Cheshire Live
It is interesting to note that in the case of both military base and commercial bank, the building was off-limits to the public, not only physically but visually. The arrangement of buildings at the time meant that the view through the gates, then in a different position, blocked any view of the heart of the complex. It has been particularly interesting for local people who have lived in the area for a number of decades to have access to the building at last, and to be able to see what was so long hidden from view, perhaps particularly when family members and friends worked there.
The building had been out of use for a decade when the University took it over in 2015 to make it the centre for their Business School, with most of the building adapted to this task with the usual collection of teaching, research and computer rooms, areas for socializing and a café. Wisely, the decision was made to preserve some of the more elaborate flourishes of the bank’s idea of good taste, and there are some distinctly New York style decorative features in the foyer. More to the point, the building’s foundation stone and its frame, appropriately made of carved stone rather than the less expensive brick, has been preserved and is now installed above the reception desk as a very welcome piece of the building’s material heritage. The exterior, now sporting a leaded dormer roof, still retains the essence of its stern and uncompromising military purpose, but its survival first as a bank and then as a major component of a university campus is a testimony to its durability.
It is impossible to do justice to Chantal’s talk, which was stuffed full of information. Chantal does these talks quite frequently, and I do recommend that you keep an eye open for her next ones, because she provides a vivid insight into a world that is not normally associated with Chester, and which was clearly a very important part of the city’s social and economic profile from the 1930s onwards. More than any other talk that I have attended since moving to the area, this is the one that surprised me most, and left me with a new set of insights into Chester’s less publicized wartime and post-war history. Splendid.
Although this is a great area to live, one of the things I still miss about living in London is a wide range of top-class take-away food restaurants on the doorstep. The whole process of ordering it online, dropping in and having a chat whilst waiting to collect it, carrying it tenderly home whilst inhaling the stunning aromas, and then pouring a big glass of wine to kick back and munch and slurp accompanied by a good movie was wonderful. My takeaways were always something to seriously, seriously enjoy.
I first noticed it on Friday two weeks ago when I passed the garage entrance on my way home, a little way up from the post office/pharmacy in Farndon as you head north on Churton Road towards Chester. To my surprise the garage entrance was wide open, filled with light, and there was a busy pizza-making operation in full swing. I immediately abandoned my plans for making a fiddly cheese soufflé, ditched the car, and entered a nirvana of bright music, a chatty, friendly atmosphere and the most gorgeous aromas emanating in my direction. Fifteen minutes later I walked out with an exciting pink and black pizza box, the proud possessor of a Penduja Power. Oh the bliss! I could barely wait to get home to lift the lid as the aromas began to do serious injury to my will-power. The Penduja, with a crispy crust, thin base, chunky slices of jalapeño and thickly spread nduja, has a serious kick to it, with smokiness from the pepperoni, whilst both the creamy fior di latte mozzarella and pure mozzarella ensure that there is just the right balance of flavour, with subtle undertones and divine ultra-spicy overtones, all accompanied by gorgeous hits of fresh basil. It really was love at first glorious bite ❤️.
This is a real pop-up. When they close down, everything is on wheels so simply pushes back out of the way to re-create the garage space. It was really good to see people coming and going, chatting to the proprietors and generally enjoying the spectacle and the anticipation of great pizza and garlic bread (oh the scent of that garlic bread!). If you arrive early there is a bench inside where you can sit and wait. There is parking on the road immediately outside as well as on the main Farndon high street, and of course there is free parking at the Memorial Hall on Church Lane.
Based in Churton 
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