Lovely Beaumaris and its deadly Lady

Beaumaris, on the isle of Anglesey, is as pretty as its name suggests.

 

Standing at the north westerly end of the Menai Strait, facing the headland of Penmaenmawr and the Welsh mountains, it retains something of the genteel elegance of a Victorian seaside resort.
And so it was – Queen Victoria herself stayed in the town, a guest of the Williams-Bulkeleys of Baron Hill, and as the infant tourist industry began to burgeon during Victoria`s century, the leisure craft from Liverpool came along the Welsh coast, to Rhyl and Llandudno, and to Beaumaris bringing the people of the city seeking distraction, relaxation and romantic scenery.

The castle of Beaumaris was, like so many of the Welsh castles, built as part of Edward 1^st`s grand strategy for subjugating Wales, and the local population were shifted away to the aptly named Newborough, at a safe distance – a medieval version of ethnic cleansing. Unlike many castles, set in high and commanding positions, Beaumaris, at the level of the present High Street, looks comfortably sedate and picturesque -  a bit like Beaumaris itself. The landscape has changed, of course, over the centuries. The castle, with its tranquil moat, now stands a good hundred yards – across pleasant flat greensward suitable for football games and parking cars – from the shoreline on the Menai Strait. Back in the day, the moat connected directly to the sea so that ships could sail right up to the castle walls.

By the time Lady Ann, the young wife of Sir Richard Bulkeley – that most pre-eminent of Anglesey families - came to live in Beaumaris in the early seventeenth century, the castle was ivy-clad, and neglected. Two hundred years were to pass before such ruins became of romantic interest, and longer still before anyone would have dreamed of paying admission money for a family ticket to take a look. It was to play a brief role when the civil war came to Beaumaris, in the 1640s, but apart from being a place where sheep grazed, or where you could pinch a few stones for your farmhouse or your barn, it remained, for a long time, pretty much unloved.

                                                             Baron Hill in the 17th Century

Lady Ann, of course, lived in the newly built mansion on the slopes above the town, Baron Hill. She was not Welsh. Her family was of the Kentish gentry, and it is probable that she met Sir Richard in London, at the court of King James 1^st. When Baron Hill was built, it was envisaged that Prince Henry, the eldest son of King James would be, when he became vice-regent of Ireland, a regular guest. When Lady Ann took up residence in Beaumaris, far from being condemned to a life out in the sticks, she would have been looking forward to being the mistress of a household which would have the immense prestige of being, literally, fit for a king.

                                                        The ruins of Baron Hill, today. It was
                                                                abandoned in the 1920s
 

                                                     

Sadly, Prince Henry died, and his younger brother Charles was to become king when James died, a combination of circumstances which changed the course of English history. It may also have been partly responsible for the changes which took place in Lady Ann Bulkeley`s life. Now with young children, and possibly disappointed to lose all the glamour and éclat of being Prince Henry`s prestigious host at his home-from-home in Wales, she set upon a course of action which, involving lust, adultery, murder, vengeance, and, at last, a kind of grim nemesis of natural justice, was worthy of the plot of a Jacobean tragedy. 

The story of Lady Ann Bulkeley, of Baron Hill, is featured in John Wheatley`s novel, `The Weeping Sands`, available as an e-book and a paperback at Amazon. 

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B005RO8GNM

 

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B005RO8GNM