St Cynog's church, Merthyr Cynog

 Morning all.  Another cold one.  8 deg. C (46 F) here and I have had the heating on for an hour or so.  Will now reach for the velvet hotty botty to warm just me rather than the rest of the house.  I am trying to get excited about a (cold) walk or some chilly gardening . . .

I have had St Cynog's on my radar for a while.  It has a terrific history attached to it.  Just 2 3/4 miles along a lane from the main road across the Epynts.  In fact, I have a book marker on the page for it in my Pevsner's Guide to Powys, but it's also the page for wonderful Partrishow . . .  St Cynog's was probably a clas (mother church).  Apparently there were once two churches here, but the older one's whereabouts are now unknown, but it is probably the original church here.

It stands in a large circular churchyard, and is believed to be the burial place of St Cynog, who was the eldest (but illegitimate) son of King Brychan, for whom Brycheiniog is named (Breconshire).  I live (just) inside the Breconshire border.  The church was built after the Norman conquest and has a chunky low tower (12th/13th C) and a very long nave.  It was, of course, one of the thousands of churches restored in Victorian times, in this case in 1860/61 by C. Buckeridge.  I found it very plain internally, with the memorial slabs to the gerat and good of the parish outside on the wall.  I - somehow - missed the rare 14th C Piscina and screen.  

The circular stoup dates from around the 12th C.

The plain goblet style font is a similar date.

Plain clear glass windows throughout.  

Priest's door.

A pulpit with restored base, which has replaced the "old and crazy" one.

The greatest and goodest, approaching the altar . . .

Cynog was the offspring of Brychan and Banadlinet the daughter of Anlach, King of Powys, during the time when Brychan was a hostage at Anlach's court.  Violation is no better word than plain rape.  Cynog was baptised at Llangasty Tal-yl-Llyn near to Llangorse (Brychan's palace was nearby at Talgarth).  Brychan gave his son a torque taken from his own arm which was still revered in Breconshire centuries later.  Giraldus Cambrensis described it thus:  "from its weight, colour and texture one would think that it was gold.  It is made in four sections, as you can see from the joins, wrought together artificially by a series of weldings and divided in the middle by a dog's head, which stands erect with its teeth bared.  The local inhabitants consider this to be a most potent relic, and no one would dare to break a promise which he had made when it was held in front of him."

Giraldus also mentions that there was "the mark of a mighty blow, as if someone had hit it with an iron hammer" and indeed once a man tried to break the torque for its gold and was rendered blind for the rest of his life.  Rhys ap Gruffyd stole and hid the torque of St Cynog and hidden it at Dynevor.  Sadly, after this incident the torque was subsequently lost.

There are other folklore style tales associated with the torque and these were still legendary when they were recorded in 1702.  Cynog led a hermit style life as a young man but was appreciated when outlaws known as Ormests were ravaging the country and he saved a widow with several young children, using his torque as a weapon which, when thrown at the leader, disembowelled him!

I don't think we can appreciate quite HOW structurally bad churches were in Victorian times, and why virtual rebuilds were often necessary.  In the early 1800s it was described as: "This church, like most of the other country churches in Breconshire, and we fear in Wales, resembles a large barn, into which something like pens for sheep have been thrown in disorderly regularity to rot . . . the floor is partly of earth and partly flagged, the seats and benches are decayed and broken, the pulpit is old and crazy, what is called the communion table nearly rotten, and the windows are frequently broken."

Extracts in this piece are from The Celtic Christian Sites of the central and southern Marches by Sarah and John Zaluckyj.  A wonderful and well-thumbed book . . .

Well, this won't do.  I shall go out for my walk now.  THe old railway line probably.

Oh, and before I forget, I have just put my name down for a wet felting tutorial in June, with the Spinners and Weavers group I've joined.  Upstairs I have all the "ingredients" for wet felting which I bought at a Quilt Festival a few years back.  Then life got in the way.  I shall try it out once I have gone to this tutorial next month.  This year is the year where I WILL finally learn new skills in crafting.