Criccieth Castle

Listen first. Wind comes off the open sea and moves over the grass on this rocky headland. Below you, waves break on two beaches, one on each side of the rock. Gulls call. The stone under your hand is rough, cold, and patched with lichen in grey and pale gold. Before anything else, turn slowly and look out. Water lies on almost every side, and the mountains of north Wales rise beyond it.

You are standing at Criccieth Castle, a short drive west along the coast from Porthmadog. The small town of Criccieth spreads out below, with its terraced houses, its seafront, and its two bays. The castle sits on a natural mound of rock that pushes out into Tremadog Bay. That position explains almost everything about the place. Anyone who held this rock could watch the sea, the coastal road, and the land behind. It was a lookout before it was a fortress.

The story here begins with the Welsh princes, not with English kings. In the thirteenth century, much of north Wales was ruled by the princes of Gwynedd, the old Welsh kingdom of this region. The first stone castle on this headland is generally credited to Llywelyn ab Iorwerth, remembered as Llywelyn the Great. He built it around the 1230s. Many visitors assume every castle in north Wales was built by the English. Criccieth is one of the clear exceptions.

Look now at the inner gatehouse — the two towers that stand close together, guarding a narrow passage between them. This twin-towered gate is the heart of the castle, and it is Welsh work. Its rounded fronts face outwards, toward anyone who came up the slope. A gate like this was the weakest point of any castle, so builders made it the strongest. Stand between the towers for a moment. Notice how narrow the passage feels, and how easily it could be defended from above.

The castle was not only a defence. It was also a prison, and one of its stories is a family tragedy. When Llywelyn the Great died, a struggle followed between his sons. His son Dafydd held power, and his elder half-brother Gruffudd was kept as a prisoner, for a time here at Criccieth. Gruffudd later died trying to escape from the Tower of London, far from these hills. The quiet walls around you once held a man whose own family kept him locked away.

Later in the thirteenth century, another prince of Gwynedd, Llywelyn ap Gruffudd, extended the castle. He was the grandson of Llywelyn the Great, and the last native prince of an independent Wales. Under him, an outer ring of walls grew around the older core. As you walk, you can follow the line of these walls across the top of the rock. The layout is simple — an inner ward around the gatehouse, and an outer ward around that.

Then everything changed. In the 1280s, King Edward I of England conquered Gwynedd. Llywelyn ap Gruffudd was killed, and Criccieth passed into English hands in 1283. Edward did not tear the castle down. Instead, he strengthened it and made it part of his chain of castles around the coast of north Wales. His builders raised and improved the gatehouse towers. So the stone you see is a layered thing — Welsh foundations with English work added on top.

Here is a detail many visitors walk past. Across the bay, on a clear day, you may be able to make out Harlech Castle on its own rock, on the far side of the water. Harlech was one of Edward's great new fortresses. From Criccieth, the two castles faced each other across Tremadog Bay. Together they helped the English crown control both the sea and the coast. Look for it to the east and south, below the line of the mountains.

In the fourteenth century, the castle had a Welsh constable serving the English crown, a soldier known as Hywel y Fwyall — in English, Hywel of the Axe. Tradition says he fought for the English king in France and won fame with his battle-axe. Local tellings add that the axe was honoured with its own place at the king's table, and that food served to it was later given to the poor. Treat that last part as legend. It is a good story, and it has lasted for centuries.

The castle's active life ended in fire. In the early fifteenth century, the Welsh rose up under Owain Glyndŵr, who led the last great Welsh rebellion against English rule. Around 1404 his forces took Criccieth and set it alight. The castle was never fully rebuilt as a fortress after that. Some visitors point to reddened stones in the walls and say these are scorch marks from the burning. Look closely as you walk, and decide for yourself.

After the fire, the castle slowly became a ruin, and a ruin on a headland attracts artists. The painter J. M. W. Turner made a well-known watercolour of Criccieth Castle in the nineteenth century. In his picture the castle stands above a wild shore, with people struggling near a wreck on the beach. Turner was more interested in weather and drama than in exact stonework. Still, his view helped bring this coast to the attention of travellers from far away.

Today the castle is cared for by Cadw, the Welsh government body for historic monuments. There is a visitor centre at the foot of the rock, with displays on the castle and the princes who held it. The climb up is steep in places, and the grass can be slippery after rain. Up top, the wind is often strong, even on a calm day in town. Bring a layer, wear good shoes, and take the slope at your own pace.

The wider landscape carries other stories too. Just along the road lies the village of Llanystumdwy, where David Lloyd George grew up. He later became Prime Minister of Britain. To the west runs the Llŷn Peninsula, a long arm of land pointing toward the Irish Sea. To the north and east rise the mountains of Eryri, the Welsh name for Snowdonia. From this one rock, you can see a large part of north Wales.

Before you go down, stand still once more. Look at the gatehouse, the broken walls, the sea on either side. Welsh princes, English soldiers, rebels, and painters have all stood on this same rock. Now the sounds are waves, wind, and children on the beach below. As you walk back toward the town, turn around once. From the seafront, the castle looks small against the sky... and it has watched this bay for close to eight hundred years.