After breakfast we said adieu but not goodbye to the Cotford Hotel. We will be back.

We headed off to Croft Castle stopping briefly at the Hop Pocket for me to purchase the other colour cardi that I loved from the day before. Mr C and mum stayrd in the car. As I was purchasing the cardi I had a lovely chat with the sales assistant about the type of cardigan and a special broach to wear with it that he said they used to sell them but for some reason they weren’t available anymore.

Croft Castle was a little sparse inside compared to our previous visit, however I enjoyed the explanation of the two dragon statues outside the house. I learned that one is a Wyvern, a Welsh Dragon (black dragon), that has only two legs.

Whilst there we looked inside the medieval church of St Michael and All Angels and the walled garden which was especially spectacular due to it being allowed to grow more naturally without over pruning.

The café looked very busy so we continued on our journey eventually stopping in Ludlow for a takeaway lunch. Mum and I were told to find a suitable bench for an outdoor picnic, which we did. Twenty minutes later neither Mr C or the sandwiches had emerged from the café. Mum and I were left wondering where he had got to. When he emerged with drinks but no food he informed us that the café was rather busy and they would get around to our order when they could which would take some time. After waiting a further twenty minutes Mr C arrived with some food, although his sandwich had not arrived. He told them to forget it, luckily the sandwiches, when they arrived were large and mum and I were quite happy to donate a triangle of sandwich each to him.

After our slightly stressful lunch we unwound in the local bookshop. Mum picked up a couple of non-book items and I purchased Places of Pilgrimage by Ian Scott Massie which has given me ideas for future adventures (and blog posts).

We took a leisurely drive home and later Mr C and I enjoyed ‘Fine Dining’ at Chez Nous, Jamie’s Breaded Chicken with Rocket which takes moments to prepare. A fitting conclusion to a lovely few days away.

These wrought iron gates known as ‘The Bodley Gates’ was given by Violet, Lady Powis as a birthday present to her husband. It is a copy by G. F. Bodley of the early eighteenth century gate shown in a print of Powis House, the family’s London home which was later demolished. The gates are set at the entrance to the Fountain garden.

Above the gate is the Powis coat of arms, combining the Elephant of the Clives with the Griffon of the Herberts, and surmounting each pillar is a wyvern (another legendary monster) holding in its mouth a hand ‘couped at the wrist’, which is also on the coat of arms.

I know the symbolism is heraldic but I have always wondered about the exact significance of the severed hand. The only reference I can find is  a little inconclusive*:

The severed red right hand (dexter hand couped at the wrist gules) is a feature of many coats of arms for families of the Uí Neill (i.e. descendants of Niall). This same symbol is associated with the province of Ulster and appears on the Arms of that province and on the modern flag of Northern Ireland. There are at least three explanations of its origins. The first relates to the name of the son of Bolg or Nuadu, the Sun God of the Celts, and by some accounts the divine progenitor of all Celts. This son was known as Labraid Lámhdhearg (Labraid of the Red Hand). The association of the symbolic red hand with the Sun God, therefore makes it an appropriate heraldic icon. The second relates to Nuada, king of the Tuatha Dé Danann, who had his right hand severed by Sreng during a great battle with the Fomorians. No imperfect man being allowed to hold the throne, Nuada was forced to abdicate in favour of Bres. However, a silver hand was fashioned for him and the power of ancient magic was used to cause flesh and sinew to grow back around the prosthesis. When Bres died, Nuada again assumed his royal place. The third explanation is somewhat more fanciful. The story tells of a pact among the seven sons of Miledh of Esbain, the Celtic king who sons conquered Ireland that the ruler of the new land would be whosoever among them first touched the soil of the island. As the flotilla approached the shore, one of the sons took his sword, cut off his right hand and threw it to land, thus becoming the ruler. He must have been either left handed or pretty stupid (or both) otherwise it is unlikely that he could have thrown the severed hand well enough to accomplish his purpose. Certainly, he was left handed for the rest of his life. The story, if true, may relate to Erimhon who is reputed to have been the first Celtic ruler of the northern part of Ireland. His brother Ebher ruled the southern half. They were the only two of the seven brothers who survived the conquest.

*This is one of several pages that contain this exact quote, but within different family contexts.