There was a time when small communities were required to take responsibility for managing their own affairs to a far greater degree than perhaps we are used to, perhaps even comfortable in doing so. We expect others - others in uniform, it seems, to manage the transgressions of those around us, while we step back and watch or even critique an apparent lack of action. But there was a time when communities needed, perhaps even expected to police themselves, to tackle the anti-social behaviours that often make everyday life a grind, a low level whine of irritation.
Evidence of that management can still be found, if one knows where to look. Some of that evidence is there to see in plain sight, some of it can be troubling. Extant examples of stocks are rare in North East Wales, but there are a couple - at Llangwyfan and possibly Chirk Castle. There is even the possibility that the Medieval cross in the churchyard of St Mary’s in Overton was actually a whipping post or pillory. But perhaps the most obvious and intriguing are the parish lock-ups, the little prisons built to hold miscreants on a temporary basis. It is likely they were many more than can be identified with any certainty today, but along with the example at Ruabon, there is the House of Correction at Hawarden, and what is thought to be a lock-up at Bagillt.
The domed roof of the lock-up, along with its lipped opening - viewed from the churchyard of St Mary's.
They have been described elsewhere as ‘gateways to the criminal justice system’[1], and this is as good a description as one is apt to get. They were built to hold, in the most part, an individual, sometimes individuals causing trouble within the communities in which they had been built - one thinks of various anti-social behaviours, none of which would be alien to ourselves. The drunk and disorderly of a village, the general malcontents, all were liable to be thrown into the lock-up for the night until it was hoped they came to their senses. There was often no further action taken, no criminal charges enforced - simply a hoped for wake-up call to the inmate. One imagines that should an individual continue to cause problems within the community, further action would follow. But in essence, one gets the impression that the lock-up, perhaps also the stocks which would often be found in the near vicinity of the lock-up, were built as a means for a community to keep their business to themselves.
Of course, they could be used, and were used to hold those accused of more egregious crimes - assault, manslaughter[2] and murder, until the offender could be moved to the nearest town and put before a magistrate. They were often used to hold criminals being moved between prisons, or when awaiting the presence of a judge in the regional quarter sessions.
The Ruabon lock-up is a really quite wonderful example. Sited, perhaps aptly, beside the Vaults public house, now a luxury B&B, this late 18th century domed round-house of a lock-up is in fine condition. Built of squared sandstone blocks with an ashlar cornice, it remains a clear and present reminder of Ruabon’s past as a village of considerable importance. Its dome is best viewed from the overlooking churchyard of St Mary’s - from which the lipped opening at its apex is visible. Small barred windows in its eastern and western flanks seem barely large enough to warrant their inclusion. The door is unlikely to be original - one would expect something considerably more robust and sturdy, and the present entrance seems to be of the middle 20th century. There was once a plaque above the door, now weathered and largely worn away. What was proclaimed there is unknown, but its presence suggests that the intention was to give this lock-up civic weight.[3] Internally, it was plain and unadorned with any semblance of comfort - a cot, and nothing more.
The small, barred windows - hardly worth the effort, it seems.
The survival of the Ruabon Lock-up is a little miracle. It is said by some that stone retains the history of its experiences - fanciful, I would freely admit, but one wonders as to the stories this little bit of Ruabon history could tell.
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Footnotes
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[1] https://www.prisonhistory.org/local-lock-up/about-local-lock-up/
[2] In April 1885, one Joseph Samuels killed his nephew, Cornelius Jones in what was said to have been a drunken fight by the alms houses on Church Street. Samuels was arrested the following day and held in the Ruabon Lock-up until brought before a judge at the Court House in Ruabon. He was charged with Manslaughter, but acquitted at Ruthin Assizes in the July of that year.
[3] Ruabon was the home of the Watkin Williams-Wynn family, once one of the wealthiest landowners in Britain, and generous with their endowments to the village. It seems unlikely that they would have been happy with a mere run-of-the-mill lock-up.
Further Reading
E. Hubbard, Buildings of Wales, Clwyd, Penguin, (1986)
Round House, British Listed Buildings
Ruabon Lock-up, Prison History
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