St Winefride and Holywell

An encounter

At the beginning of November I got a sudden urge to visit Holywell, in Wales, where St Winefride¹ was martyred by being beheaded, then healed by her uncle, St Beuno. The spot where her head bounced to the ground was the source of a spring, still running to this day. This place has been on my list for years but I thought it may be too far for a day trip. So I checked it out and determined it was, in fact, close enough to get there and back on a winter’s day.

A couple of days later, I noticed, to my surprise, that it was St Winefride’s feast day (November 3rd). Coincidence? I think not. My suspicion was confirmed by the fact that her feast days have variously covered 30th October to 3rd November. One Orthodox website - the English Orthodox have a devotion to her, as a 7th century saint, pre-schism- says she died at the beginning of November but her feast day was displaced by All Saints and All Souls.

I have learned to follow these impulses to visit holy places - I always gain something from them and even graces, though they are not always what I expect. As it turns out, St Winefride has called people to visit her before. Her relics ended up at Shrewsbury Abbey (you may be aware of the story written by Ellis Peters on this theme) as a result of such an event. A monk at Shrewsbury Abbey was very ill and the whole community prayed for him; one day the Sub-Prior Radulphus, having prayed for the monk, fell asleep and saw a vision of a woman “in glorious attire” who told him to send one of the monks to offer Mass at the chapel at St Winefride’s Well (Holywell) and he would recover. They sent two monks to Holywell and the sick monk was cured.

So I checked with my regular Travelling Companion (TC) and we agreed on 30th November as the date for a visit as he wouldn’t be working. Traffic would not be reaching peak December madness and there would be just enough daylight to visit Holywell and the nearby ruined abbey. The days are short now, especially if it is not sunny.

So we set off at first light on a mixed morning of cloud, sun and occasional bouts of fog and drizzle. It being a Saturday, traffic was light and we reached Holywell at 10:20.

We drove through the town, on the obligatory one-way system which characterises all small towns, and followed the intermittent signs, one of the frustrations of visiting such places. Eventually we found it and as we rounded a corner, I saw the chapel on the edge of the road.

For a famous pilgrimage site the parking was poor- about 8 car places on a little car park across the road. Maybe there was somewhere else, but I didn’t see it. I manouevered into the tiniest space, next to an Irish car and we set off.

You have to pay a small entrance fee to gain access to the enclosed area around the shrine - £2.00, though the attendant helpfully told us the concession for pensioners is £1.00. Maybe my grey hair had something to do with that. I looked him in the eye and said, with steely gaze, “two adults please”. There is a little shop, which I decided we could come back to after our trip, but a large museum-type room contains information so we started there.