Pont Cysyllte

Bridges

SJ 26805 42034

‘He then led me by a romantic road to a bridge on the west of the aqueduct, and far below. It seemed very ancient. ‘This is the old bridge, sir,’ said my guide; ‘it was built a hundred years before the Pont y Cysswllt was dreamt of.’

George Borrow, Wild Wales, (1862), p.61

A little over a century before the architectural and engineering wonder that is the Pontcysyllte Aqueduct was built to carry the waters of the Llangollen Canal across the valley, some 126 ft above the River Dee, the little Pont Cysyllte (known locally, simply as the Bont) was providing passage across the river to the peoples of the Vale of Llangollen.

The Pont Cysyllte from the west - the Aqueduct visible in the near distance.

It was built sometime at the very end of the 17th century - the date 1697 is inscribed on the southern, downstream cutwater, which is perhaps how Borrow’s guide, a local man and weaver by the name of John Jones, so accurately dated the bridge, though much of what is to be seen today is of the 18th century. This quiet and unassuming little gem of a crossing offers something of a stirring juxtaposition to the mighty Aqueduct seeming to stride majestically across the valley on its eighteen tall masonry piers. Many use the Pont Cysyllte as a viewing platform of sorts, cwtch’ed up(1) from traffic in the refuges to snap-off their many pictures of the Aqueduct, perhaps without realising just how fabulous the bridge they stand upon actually is - something of an irony. Still, artists of the past have often used the Pont Cysyllte as a comparative foreground to their painting, etching and drawings of the famous Aqueduct - one sometimes gets a curious sense that these artists slowly realise as they work, that the Pont is worthy of a greater respect than was present at the beginning of their undertaking.

The inscribed date on the southern, downstream cutwater.

Until the Pont Cysyllte was built, passage here, across the River Dee was achieved by a ferry that likely crossed the waters a little ways upstream, on the bend where the flow of the river is smoother than the restless rapids closer to the bridge. A document of 1393 makes clear that such a ferry was permitted for the peoples of the Valley ‘upon the waters of the Dee for the convenience of themselves and others operating at Kissille’. This ferry, it is said, would have been a coracle of sorts, but this is entirely a matter of speculation. Certainly, livestock would have been impossible to transport in numbers in a coracle, but then drovers were known to have ‘swum’ their cattle (and pigs) across the Menai Straits, so it would seem entirely plausible to suggest that the River Dee was crossed in such a fashion.

The Pont, viewed from the Pontcysyllte Aqueduct - November 2024.

It should be said that during dry weather the Dee by the Pont is fordable on foot, albeit carefully, and even sheep perhaps would have found it possible. But those that know the Dee, are well aware of its power here during the rains, when the waters can be torrential and dangerous. The Bridge was raised to provide year round convenience, and did so, making the transportation of livestock and corn far easier and certainly more affordable.

It was built under the direction of Richard Myddleton (1655-1716) of Chirk Castle, but may well have replaced an earlier bridge built at the beginning of the 17th century. It was widened slightly in the 18th century, and little of the earlier bridge remains - the south arch and part of the south pier. Rendered from ashlared sandstone, the bridge features three arches and full height cutwaters, with two refuges on either side.

It has, in its time, been banged about considerably, no more so than in the age of the motor vehicle, some of which seem oblivious to its narrow width, despite fair warnings given, and often scrape their way across. Sat Navs play merry havoc with the unwary motorist, gleefully funneling their charges into the valley to be confronted by the gloriously slender road and leaving drivers to confound themselves in quickly trying to estimate the width of their machines.[2] At some point, railings were installed on the western face of the south end of the bridge, to prevent those speeding cyclists descending the hill to the bridge from being thrown over the parapet into the Dee below[3] - cyclists on the north side of the bridge coming down the Bont Road would, presumably, be saved by being launched thundering along the road to Plas-Yn-Pentre.

Looking upstream from the Pont.

Bridges are wonderfully functional things, when you come right down to it, but as with all the product of our imaginations, they give great insight to the way of things at the time of their building - and even the functional, with a little light of thought and intent, can give birth to dream. The Pont Cysyllte was built a century before the Aqueduct, and in those intervening years before Telford and Jessop arrived with their gargantuan and eye-twitching ambition, the little bridge leapt the Dee in understated beauty. And it still does. And so, when hurrying along the bridge to the next available incised refuge in order to ooh and aah at the Pontcysyllte Aqueduct, give pause, give thought. In searching for wonder, you’re already there.[4]

Footnotes

[1] Yes, yes, I hear you. An entirely crass mash of Welsh and English - a bit like me, to be honest.

[2] I could create a splendid photographic portfolio of the differing fear smeared facial contortions of drivers attempting to cross the Pont for the first time, most of whom panic seems to have made forgetful of good sense and the presence of a braking system in their machines. I shan’t though, I’m far too much of a gentleman.

[3] I’m not altogether certain that crashing into the railings would not, in fact, cause greater damage to the cyclist than landing in a twisted tangle of limbs in the River Dee.

[4] When standing on the bridge, looking east towards the Aqueduct, do yourself a favour, turn around and take a look west upstream - you can thank me when we meet.