Memories of Strata Florida

Charles Arch reminisces about his childhood and a church that is so important to the people of Wales

I have now celebrated my 87th birthday, and my lifetime has certainly been a period of great change in society. From being a completely Welsh-speaking area, the number of English people who have moved here is increasing every year. Other traditions are also disappearing, such as the employment fairs, the wool fairs, the gooseberry fair and many others. Hill farmers have declined in the Glasffrwd, Tywi and Soar valleys. Whenever funerals were held, many would leave their ponies in the yard of Mynachlog Fawr farm, my home, and stood in a line outside the lichgate wearing black, polished shoes and bowler hats. As the coffin approached the cemetery, every hat would be doffed as a mark of respect.

Now, the traditional carol service at six o’clock on Christmas morning has come to an end. As a boy, I would stand by the door of the church watching the lanterns approaching from either side of the valley. At that time, Christmas, Easter and Thanksgiving services were so important to every family.

Today, those services are held by a small group of around seven stalwarts. Nevertheless, the tradition of supporting bereaved families in their grief remains strong, even though the mountain community has become a thing of the past. But, surprisingly and heartwarmingly, parents still bring their children to the Church and the chapel for baptisms and weddings.

It’s strange to think that in a world of change, the church’s door remains open. The old yew tree stands where it has stood for centuries and the debate persists as to whether or not Dafydd ap Gwilym is buried beneath it. The bequest of the late Sir David James and a number of local benefactors enables the committee to maintain the cemetery and keep it looking at its best.

Ysgol ‘Nachlog, the old school that provided a childhood education for so many of us now houses the office of Cadw, who are now custodians of the old Abbey. But for us, it will be Ysgol ‘Nachlog as long as we live. The number of former pupils gets smaller every year, but their roots remain deep in the area’s soil.

The sounds of the horseshoes, the hay-cart and the carriage are long gone, and it won’t be long before there is hardly anyone left who can wield the scythe and the sickle.

This article was first published in the Eisteddfod Special edition at Tregaron in 2022. Charles Arch gave permission for it to be used again. Sadly, he died in June. We extend our sympathy to his family and friends.