As I suggested in a previous article, Redwick poses several problems.  The name itself, so Saxon in a Welsh county, may have several interpretations; I am drawn to ‘the farmstead among the reeds.’  I shall return to the Saxon aspect later.

 

Problem one: It is difficult to account for the siting of the village.  No river enters the sea, no harbour, no anchorage, no mooring attracts the mariner; the land is all flat pasture; yet Redwick is central to Whitson, Bishton, Magor and Undy.  The ancient church (then of St Michael) and the Grange belonged to Tintern Abbey, and the hamlet grew up around them.

 

Problem two: Why Llanfihangel? With few exceptions our churches dedicated to St Michael are hilltop churches; yet the archangel both here and at Llanfihangel Roggiet is honoured just above sea level.

 

The Changes

Redwick manor first comes to notice in the Survey of Wentwood, 1270, when ‘William Durant has housebot and heybot for his house at Redwick.’

 

The name alters in the next century to Radewyk, and Redwyke, and by 1317 the manor has changed hands with John de Knovil, whom we met at Moynes Court and Raglan, the new lord.

 

A survey of the manor in 1683 includes names which will interest the present inhabitants; Black moore, Green moore, Long lands, West Rowe streete, Windmill reene, Moone meade, Inner and Outer Barelands, Ockington, Ruddy meade and Poddis Hayes.

 

The Duke of Bewford mentioned in the survey may bring a superior smile to the intellectual, but let me remind him that in far more aristocratic surroundings ‘Beaulieu’ is pronounced ‘Bewley’.

 

New Houses

The manor changed its name to ‘Raglan and Dennis Court’ in the 1600s, when the affluence of the yeoman farmers and the influence of their wives – resulted in the building of fine new stone houses.

 

A century ago the lord of the manor was William Phillips of Whitson.

 

I pause here to list a few of the Saxon surnames which enliven the history of Redwick.  In 1454 Thoma Adam, Ph’o Hobelowe, Walto Watt, Johne Hick; in 1477 Jack Webbe, Mathei Hardyng, Johne Pody; and in 1617 Hopkin, Howle and Bullocke represented the immigrants from across the Severn.

 

Problem three:  Why would these stout Somerset lads move to Redwick? 

 

I note in the will, dated 1545, of ‘John Walter of Redwycke’ his wish to be buried in the church of ‘Saynt Mighell in Redwycke where on the day of my funeral 6 priests shall say and sing diriges and masses, 8lb. of wax lights and tapers shall burn about my hearse.’  Master Walter left money for the building of the church porch, and among the witnesses was ‘Master doctor Chicheley, vicar of Magor and Radwyck.’

 

Problem four:  Why was the good stone house on the flat land named the Bryn?  The name implies a hill, and there is no hill, not even a hillock (bryncyn) near.  I am forced to associate it with an ancient and vague manor named Bryn Allt further inland, which was held in 1622 by Edward Morgan of Llantarnam.

 

I called last week at the Bryn and was greeted by Mrs Charles Evans, whose husband is the public relations officer of Messrs. Wimpey.  After many years in the Far East they have taken this big house – ‘twelve windows and porch in the south façade’ – and it is a tribute to Redwick and its folk that they love every minute of their new life.

 

On that bright afternoon when the sun cast long tree shadows across the meadows, and the lovely church took on subtle tones of lilac and silver, when the only sounds were made by the birds and the little children, the grave peace brooding over Redwick evoked from my hostess a sigh of sweet content, of satisfaction.

 

We went indoors – the porch had disappeared during the bombing of 1942 – to find the rooms bright with bunches of chincherinchee, ‘sent by air from South Africa so that they might bloom for us on Christmas Day.’

 

The Buddha

Like Great House in Undy, the Bryn has a symmetrical window-pattern and the rear roof double the area of the front roof.   Fireplaces, windows, doors and chimneys are all modern, and the various reconstructions have hidden much of the original character.

 

From the evidence of the ceiling beams, the big roof-timbers and the window pattern, however, I suspect that when central heating is installed, the thick middle wall will betray secrets which confirm my guess that this house is yet another example of early seventeenth century construction.

 

Problem five:  Would the builders of Stuart days, with memories of the great flood of 1606, have risked building on this site?

 

I have nought but admiration for the proportions and lighting in the fine rooms of the Bryn.  Modern furniture and fittings are enhanced in such apartments, and the pictures, from the water-colours of Borneo to the prints by Picasso – and the sculptures – are a joy.

 

We were drinking tea near a welcome fire when I was startled to see a ‘Laughing Buddha’ grinning at me.  With memories of the stone Buddha at Shirenewton Hall – do you recall him, and the robin’s nest within him? – I sketched him for your delectation, while Mrs Evans regaled me with her gay accounts of life in Borneo.

 

Among other treasures I saw a fine Arab food-tray in copper displaying amidst the usual geometrical decorations an anthemion (honeysuckle) motif – a sure sign of Greek influence.