Blogs

Cymdeithas y Dywysoges Gwenllian

The Princess Gwenllian Society

Er fod yna ddefodau sifalri a chanu cerddi yn y Brydain Ganol oesol yr oedd yn gyfnod o greulondeb dwys a chaledi mawr. Yr oedd Lloegr benben Chymru ar rhannau Celtaidd eraill o Brydain. Erbyn 1282, Llywelyn ap Gruffydd (ein Llyw Olaf) oedd Tywysog Cymru, yr oedd o hen linach Tywysogion Gwynedd. Yn 1278 priododd Llywelyn ag Eleanor do Montfort mewn seremoni ar risiau allanol Eglwys Gadeiriol Caerwrangon mewn briodas frenhinol. Roedd Brenin Alecsander yr Alban yno, a Brenin Lloegr, y Norman Edward 1, a roddodd anregion cymwys i ddathlur amgylchiad. Ond nid oedd parhad ir cyfeillgarwch yma.

Ym Mehefin 1282, yng Ngarth Celyn, Aber ger Bangor (maer llen dal i fod) ganwyd merch i Eleanor ar Tywysog Llywelyn Y Dywysoges Gwenllian. Tristwch fu marw Eleanor o achosion rhoi genedigaeth. Fel unig blentyn Llywelyn yr oedd i Gwenllian le pwysig iawn yn olyniaeth teulu Tywysogion Cymru, oherwydd hyn yr oedd Edward 1 yn ei gweld yn fygythiad i Goron Lloegr. Pan oedd Gwenllian yn 6-12 mis oed trefnodd Edward i Lywelyn gael ei lofruddio ger Llanfair-ym-Muallt, ac yna gorchmynodd y Brenin ir ferch fach amddifad gael ei chipio oddiwrth ei theulu.

Er mwyn sicrhau na chai Gwenllian eni plant fei hanfonwyd i Briordy o Urdd Gilbert ar dir Abaty Sempringham ynghanol corsdiroedd Swydd Lincoln, taith hirfaith o Gymru.

Bu farw yno am 54 o flynyddoedd yn lleian: yn ddi-urddas, di-wrogaeth hyd ei marw 7 Mehefin, 1337. A oedd hin gwybod pwy oedd hi? Pwy wyr?

Yr oedd Edward yn benderfynol y dylid anghofio Gwenllian, i ni, fuodd hin ddim mwy nag is-nodyn bach ar waelod tudalen mewn llyfrau hanes. Does fawr ddim oi hanes ar gael wahan i ddyddiad ac amser ei marw.

Ond yn 1991 ysgrifennodd Byron Rogers y newyddiadurwr ar hanesydd erthygl am Wenllian yn y Guardian. Darllenodd Capten Richard Turner, Caernarfon, hen longwr bywiog a phenderfynol yr erthygl, a theimlodd ir byw fod y rhan yma on hanes wedi ei gadw oddiwrthym. Aeth Capten ati i godi cofeb fach i Wenllian ar dir ger safler Priordy ger Abaty Sempringham. Mae mur gogleddol a chorff eglwys Sant Andreas heddiw yn rhan or hen Abaty.

Yn 1996 adeg marw Capten Turner, gweithredwyd ar y syniad o sefydlu Cymdeithas y Dwysoges Gwenllian; gydar nd o ofalu am y Gofeb ac i gadwr cof amdani yn fyw.

Erbyn 2001 roedd y gofeb yn dadfeilio a chodwyd cofeb newydd iddi ar yr un safle, darn hardd o Wenithfaen gadarn Gwynedd. Mae hi iw gweld ychydig ir do o Billingborough ar y ln gul syn arwain or B1177 at Eglwys Sat Andreas syn dal i ddwyn yr enw Abaty Sempringham ar lafar gwlad.

Gwaith Ieuan Rees y cain-lythrennwr byd-enwog ywr Gofeb newydd, fei codwyd mewn ymteb i haelioni pobl o bob rhan or byd: pobl sydd yn teimlo colli hanes ein Tywysoges Goll a fu mor agos cael ei llwyr angofio.

Os hoffech fwy o wybodaeth ac i gefnogi'r Gymdeithas gyda tanysgrifiad o 10 y flwyddyn, ewch i'r wefan: http://www.tywysogesgwenllian.co.uk

Fe wnes i ddarganfod y wybodaeth hon mewn papurau a etifeddais gan fy mam ar eimarwolaeth . Hi oedd yn selog Genedlaethol ac yr wyf am sicrhau bod ei hawydd iledaenu'r wybodaeth hon ymhellach i ffwrdd , ei gyflawni . Nid oes gennyf enw'r awdurgwreiddiol ac felly ni allaf credyd nhw .

Ewchi wefan:mae'ncael ei lenwigydagwybodaethardderchogac rwy'ngobeithio y bydd ynysbrydolichigymaintagyysbrydolifi,aysbrydolwydfy mamger fy mron.

We sat down to our 'cinio dydd Sul' promptly at twelve. (Peter is a man who likes everything operating like clockwork and I am usually hungry.) It turned out to be an expensive meal and I'm not talking about the new potatoes, either.

My husbandis a man of refined tastes. When presented with a meal, he scrutinises it carefully. (No. It doesn't irritate me. I'm used to him).Before he hadthyroid problems andlosta stone in weight, his meal-time mantra was: 'Not much for me', but now he sets to without prevarication.

Today, we had pork wrapped in pancetta with sage stuffing, courtesy of Marks and Spencer's. Icooked it in the oven in a broth of apple juice with fresh thyme leaves, so it had a roasted crust on topand the main part of the joint was tenderised by the juice. With thiswe hadcabbage, (it must be finely sliced for him and, really, he does not know how fortunate he is thatI like cooking), parsnips, carrots, the gold platedpotatoes, apple sauce (bottled), and gravy.Vegetables must be well cooked (don't mention al dente, or he'll snort.)

We were going along nicely whena gurglynoise came from his direction. He opened his mouth and out popped a mercury filling the size of a small boulder.(The irony was thathe'd only had the filling put in three weeks ago). This was placed on a side plate which he contemplated silently for a few seconds before saying: 'The dentist said if it did not hold I'd needa crown.' (I was relieved the food wasof a mushy consistency, so no blame there).

Beinga man who hates waste, he recovered sufficiently to finish the meal. When we'dhad yoghurt and a cup of tea, my thoughts went back to the solanum tuberosum (potatoes) and Fishguard.

Peter's favourite foods are bread and potatoes. His preference isflavourless food. Keiller's Ginger marmalade, for instance, which I love,is eschewed by him soI have learnt to cook what he likes. Looking at Nita Sybil Evans's cook book, she has very few savoury dishes, apart from a meat and potato pie.

When wemarried, my husband was twenty five and a teacher in one of the Fishguard schools. There were few jobs in that areaso, for almost a year, I was a housewife. Althoughwe livedjust a five minute walk from the school he came home at lunch time only once a week. (There was an expectation in the school that you waited on the premises during the mid-day recess).

Once aweek avan came from Milford Haven with fresh fish. On this particular day, Imade a cod- fish pie. (Nothing complicated, poach the fish inmilk, adda bay leaf if you have it, and pepper and salt. The fish is cooked when the flakes fall apart. Drain the fish and put it in a pie dish. Make half a pint of parsley sauce with butter, flour, a pinch of salt,milk and a bunch of chopped parsley. Simmer until it thickens and pour over the fish. Top withbuttery mashed potato, grated cheese and decorate with a thinly sliced tomato.Brown under the grill for five minutes.

Now the point of this storyis not the pie, but what happened while I was preparing it. We had a 'Rediffusion' radio (we were givenlots of pointless wedding presentslike grapefruit spoons, EPNS cake stands, but no one had given us a radio).

Over the radio came the news that U2 pilot, Gary Powers, had been shot down over the Ural Mountains of Russia. I'd never heard of him before. I had no interest in Russia, the Cold War, pilots or anything like that but, somehow, immediately, I connected with his plight. He was only twenty two. I decided he'd made a mistake; 'strayed over' was the phrase that stuck in my mind. How could it have happened?

Now, I can't eat cod fish pie without remembering that day, May 1, 1960.The fire burning in the grate, the table laid for our meal and Gary Powers on his way to a Russian Jail.

My peregrinations took me to Fishguard today, the home of Jemima Nicholas, the eighteenth century female cobbler,said to be six feet tall. In 1797 Frenchboats were seen to drop anchor near Fishguard. Jemima rustled up a posse of women who, in their red cloaks and stove-pipe hats, are reputed to have frightenedthe French, who were intent on invading Britain. Later, the French soldiers surrendered to Lord Cawdor and the Castlemartin Yeomanry on nearby Goodwick sands.

I spent the sort of afternoon I enjoy, buying Pembrokeshire early potatoes, (3 a kilo), and a tablecloth in a charity shop. Before going home, I hadapot of tea in 'Jane's' in the High Street.I resisted the cakes and decided to bake Nita's 'Lemon Meringue Pie' for tea.

You will need:

Short crust pastry (enough to line a pie dish).

2 lemons

2 eggs

2 tablespoons of sugar,

1 tin small tin condensed milk.

Line a pie dish with pastry (frozen is fine butremember to defrostit)

Bake it 'blind', which means lining the inside of the pastry with greaseproof paper and filling it with dried peas. Bake in a moderate oven for 20 minutes.

Remove from oven, discard greaseproof and save peas for next time.

Mix the tinned milk with the 2 egg yolks and the juice of the lemons.

Pour into piecrust. Whisk the egg whites and the sugar until stiff.

Pile meringue on top and place the dish in a cooler oven than previously. Bake for about 30 minutes. Careful it does not scorch- check frequently.

I love this recipe. Give it a try.That's all for today, Pobol Bach. I'll be back tomorrow.

OK so that was just a cheap trick to get your attention. We aren't really setting up a Welsh dating site. What we are doing, however, is appealing for dates to complete a long standing project - the Welsh Calendar site. So if you can think of any dates we've missed that are worthy of inclusion please feel free to comment on the blog ( or below ).....Read More HERE

It was a bright, cold showery day, so I alerted Mum (88years old, not out) that we weretaking a trip to Llangendeirne, home village of Nita Sybil Evans, whose 1922 handwritten cookery bookI have.

From Haverfordwest to Carmarthen,the M4 was busy with tractors, juggernauts andcamper vans- you get the picture -slow-moving traffic is a pain.

Turning forLlangaintocollect Mum Iadmired the hedgerows full of yellow buttercups, red campion (Crib y Ceiliog or cockerel's combs) and cow parsley with heads big as saucers. (Full marks to Cyngor Sir Gar, Carmarthen County Council, for not trashing wildflowers before they have seeded.)

Half an hour later, we were enjoying chicken mayo sandwiches, a side salad and a sharedbowl of chips in the Ivy Bush Hotel, Carmarthen.

After allowing half an hour for digestivepurposes, wedecided to head for Llangendeirne.We got Into the car,I turned the ignition key and nothing happened. No. No thing. Dim byd o gwbwl. Aftertrying (and it was a trying experience) a few times, all to no avail, I consulted the handbook(not the type of thing I likedoing) and decided the battery was flat. Mum kept commendably calm. I called my brother in his shop in the new market development in Carmarthen (Debenhams, Selfridges, River Island, 'Singer Sewing' in his case), to come and fetchMum.

Though sheison her mobile all the time, like any teenager, Mum has nevergot the hang of speed dial, so my finger was faster on the trigger than hers. Her main concern was whether my brother had customers in the shop who he might have to rush, buthe soon appeared and whisked her off.

The rescue truck arrived within ten minutes.I gave my diagnosis and the mechanic charged thebattery, jump leads, etc,for those of a technical bent, like my husband, whowanted a full account of what the mechanic had done. Ithen tried to start itagain butnada, nada, no chips.

My thoughts then turned to the key, because itlocked in the ignition once and I could not remove it.The mechanic cheered up instantly whenI conveyedmy suspicions. Unfortunately, but happily for him, he could not get the car on his truck because the wheels had locked. I needed a truck that could hoist the car up. One hour later,a long truck plusa hoist arrived. The mechanic said if I was correct, this would bethe sixthMercedes with key trouble that he'd rescued recently.

PerhapsI shouldn't have gone far, considering it wasFriday the13th. Also, amagpie stalked the grass in front of mewhileI waited for assistance.

Magpie or not, I was home by four thirty, thanks to Peter, otherwise known as Mr Morgan, who recently had his seventy seventh birthday.Driving hisfifteen year old Mercedes (manual keys on his car: 'Simple. Things don't go wrong with them', he muttered) from Haverfordwest, he was with me in forty minutes.

Home again, we had cheese on toast, toppedwith fried tomatoes on the vine.

Now I cometoNita's recipe for 'Tomato Chutney', not only tasty but the lycopenein tomatoes helpsprotect against prostate cancer (butyou don't need to think aboutthis when you're enjoying the chutney).

Recipe for 'Tomato Chutney':

2 lbs Tomatoes (I apologise to the purists amongst you, but the book does not usemetric measures),1 Large Onion (thinly sliced), 1 Large Tablespoon salt, 6 ounces of Brown Sugar, 4 ounces of Seedless Raisins (cut small), 1 Teaspoon Mustard, 1 Teaspoon Ground Ginger. Pinch of Cayenne Pepper (cayenne pepper in Llangendeirne 1922? Nita must have beenway ahead of her time), Three quarters of a pint of Vinegar.

To cut a longish recipe short, chop the tomatoes andlayer with the onions in a bowl and sprinkle with salt. Leave overnight in a bowl. Next morning, tip the mixture into a stewpan, add mustard, ginger and pepper, pourin the vinegar.Put over a low heat (a coal fire, probably, in 1922), Stir with a wooden spoon until the until onions and tomatoes are tender. leave to cool before bottling in clean glass jars.

(Nita has a tendency topreface nouns with capital letters, in the German way; she'snot averse to sprinkling capitalshere and there, either.)

Night has now fallen over Haverfordwest, dark, starless night and I must retire to my bed (warmed by a hot water bottle and a Melyn Tregwynt blanket (pink, since you ask). Nos da pawb.

Last week I had afternoon tea in Marylebone HighStreet, London. It was a sunny day and I sat at an outside table, beneath an awning. When my order arrived, on a three tier cake stand, it consisted of two scones, jam and cream, two tiny chocolate cakes,a sugary puff pastry confection and three finger sandwiches with fillings that included cucumber, watercress and smoked salmon. The tea was freshly brewed, I had a thick linen napkin to wipe my fingers on and, in case there was still a corner to fill,a chocolate came with the 9.60 bill. I'd go there every week if I could, I enjoyed it so much.

Afternoon tea is making a big come back and, looking for ideas, I remembered that I had a handwritten cookery book, dating from 1922. It was written by a student teacher, Nita Sybil Evans, who lived in Llangendeirne, Carmarthen.

The recipes cover forty years, until 1964, when they end with a 'Banana cake'.

I was born near Llangendeirne and my early foody memories include 'Cawl Potch', made with meat, usually ham, carrots, leeks, potatoes, (plenty), parsley, parsnips and whatever else you had to throw in.Wild rabbits also featured on the menu and I liked to look at their teeth before they were prepared, (decapitated and skinned), for the pot.

In 1959, when I married, I remember that 'Good Housekeeping' magazine featured a recipe for jugged hare. Cooks were meant to save the blood of the hare and strain it, to ensure there were no clots, which would spoil the gravy. Compared to that recipe, an omelette appeared very tasty.Shall give you some more recipes next time I talk. Hwyl, Gillian