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If you're looking for a history inspired activity to do this holiday weekend, the former quarrying village of on the Llyn Peninsula is holding its first ever Victorian Festival on Sunday 1 and Monday 2 May.

Nant Gwrtheyrn

Having undergone an extensive refurbishment programme, including a new exhibition area on the unique history of Nant Gwrtheyrn and a period quarryman's cottage, the centre was recently opened by the Rt. Hon Carwyn Jones, First Minister of Wales.

The chief executive of Nant Gwrtheyrn, Jim O'Rourke, said:

"During the May bank holiday weekend, the Nant will come alive with a full two day programme offering something for everyone. From jugglers to magicians, from granite sett craftsmen to puppet shows and from Welsh language games to folk musicians, the aim of the festival is to have a lot of fun and to show the unique facilities that we have on offer here."

There will also be drama class for 8-12 year olds and a photography class for budding photographers of all ages. .

The highlight of the weekend will be a , which is to be held in the original Seilo Chapel at 6.30pm on Sunday 1 May with Gwilym Griffith, Plas.

If you'd like to find out more about what was like for a quarrymen and their families, take a look at Snowdonia 1890.

Over the past few months the media hype has slowly been building for the royal wedding, an event taking place in London this Friday, 29 April 2011.

This particular wedding remains very much an English affair but here in Wales we, too, have had our involvement in royal weddings of the past. And very often they have been events or occasions with more than a few political overtones.

Although not technically a 'royal' affair Gerald de Windsor was at the forefront of things back in the 12th century. In 1105 this Norman knight was appointed Royal Steward and Constable of Pembroke Castle.

Gerald was the man who held control of all the King's lands in west Wales and, in Pembroke Castle, commanded the most powerful military fortress in the country. By marrying Princess Nest, the daughter of Rhys ap Tewdwr, the most important Welsh prince south of Gwynedd, Gerald brought the region to an uneasy but ultimately rewarding truce.

Almost exactly a century later another royal marriage brought a degree of peace and stability to Wales. By 1199 Llewelyn Fawr had become the acknowledged ruler of Gwynedd, in effect the northern part and most powerful part of the country. In various campaigns he drove the Normans back beyond Offa's Dyke and made great inroads into Powys. He then turned his attention the southern part of Wales.

Llewelyn was so successful that in 1204 the English king, John, was forced to acknowledge him as Lord of Gwynedd. To seal the arrangement John gave Joan, his illegitimate daughter, to Llewelyn in marriage. The union did not end the various disputes but it was, by all accounts - and against all the odds - a loving relationship.

Joan proved to be a more than useful ambassador for Llewelyn, dealing frankly and openly with her father and, later, her half brother Henry III on his behalf. When Joan died in 1237 she was buried at Llewelyn's manor of Llanfaes in Ynys Mon and he even built a monastery to commemorate her life.

Perhaps the most significant Welsh connection with royal weddings came in 1501 when Arthur, the Prince of Wales and son of Henry VII, was married to the Spanish princess Katherine of Aragon. Born in 1486, Arthur was undersized and sickly but he was heir to the throne and everyone, king and courtiers alike, had a vested interest in keeping him alive and well. A return to the chaos of the Wars of the Roses was not to be countenanced.

Henry - of Welsh descent and born in Pembroke Castle - deliberately named his son after the legendary King Arthur who, many supposed, was himself a Welsh chieftain or cavalry leader. After a 'proxy' marriage to Katherine in 1499, the real wedding took place two years later when Arthur was 15 years old. He and his new bride then left London for Ludlow where Arthur was serving as head of the Council of Wales and the Marches.

And that was when British history changed. The young Prince of Wales and his princess fell dangerously ill, their fevers being attributed to the unhealthy climate of the Welsh border regions. Katherine soon recovered but Arthur, always an underdeveloped and wasting boy, grew steadily worse and died.

He was succeeded as heir - and as Prince of Wales - by his far more robust younger brother Henry. Rather than renegotiate the alliance and valuable dowry that Katherine had brought from her native Spain, Henry VII simply re-married her to the new heir.

When, years later, Henry VIII, as he had become, decided to divorce Katherine in favour of the younger Anne Boleyn, the whole divorce issue rested on one simple question: had Katherine and Arthur actually consummated their marriage?

The Pope had only approved the marriage between Henry and Katherine on the understanding that Katherine and her first husband, Henry's brother, had not been intimate during the brief three or four months of their relationship. It was a complicated affair that took several long months to sort out but it eventually led to the break with Rome, the English Reformation and the establishment of the Anglican Church - and all because of the weddings of two princes of Wales.

Another Prince of Wales whose marriage caused great interest for the general public was that of Victoria's son, Edward VII. He was a great rake and philanderer, including women such as and in his list of acquaintances. Soon after the death of his father, Prince Albert, Edward was married to the Danish Princess Alexandra. How would Edward and Alexandra - Bertie and Alix as they were affectionately known - cope with the restrictions of marriage, people asked.

As far as Bertie was concerned it hardly affected him and he carried on much as before. Alix did better than anyone could have ever imagined. She came from the Danish Royal family, a family that was impoverished and almost penniless. Indeed, her father was so poor that he could not even afford to come to the wedding, which took place at St George's Chapel in Windsor in 1863. But Alix took to her new role, enjoying the trappings of royalty and turning a blind eye to most, if not all, of her husband's indiscretions.

Prince Charles and Princess Diana, on the balcony of Buckingham Palace after their wedding ceremony on 29 July 1981.

When Prince Charles married Lady Diana Spencer on 29 July 1981, she became the Princess of Wales. He had been invested as Prince in 1969, an event marked by more than a little nationalist unrest but, with marriage to Diana, new found popularity seemed to fall over the royal couple and they subsequently made many very successful visits to Wales.

Divorce and disclosures about their private lives unfortunately smashed away much of this popularity and now people await the new royal wedding, hoping it will bring happiness and enjoyment, not just to the royal couple but to all the population of Britain.

Follow the live coverage of the marriage of Prince William and Catherine Middleton on Friday 29 April on ´óÏó´«Ã½ Radio Wales or ´óÏó´«Ã½ One Wales.

Find out more about Welsh Royalty on the ´óÏó´«Ã½ Wales History website.

At the mighty Pembroke Castle in west Wales on 28 January 1457, the only Welshman ever to become king of England was born.

Henry Tudor

The man in question was Henry Tudor, who ruled for over 20 years as Henry VII and, perhaps more importantly for the history of this country, founded the Tudor dynasty which effectively created modern Britain.

He came to the throne at a troubled and chaotic time but in his 23 years at the helm he brought peace and stability to a realm that, for 30 years, had known only bloodshed and mayhem.

Henry's grandfather came from Ynys Mon - Anglesey, as the English knew it - and had served with honour and bravery in the French wars with Henry V. He fought at the Battle of Agincourt alongside the young king and was well respected by the royal family. Indeed, legend declares that he secretly married Henry's widow Catherine some time after the king's untimely death. His son, Edmund, was later declared legitimate and made Earl of Richmond in 1452.

The years after the death of Henry V saw the eruption of the Wars of the Roses, the great baronial houses of York and Lancaster fighting for control of the country and the throne. The trouble lay in the person of the new king, Henry VI. He was, initially, under age but when he did take over the trappings of kingship he was soon revealed as a weak and unstable leader who might well have had problems with his mental health.

With both York and Lancaster vying for control of the king - and therefore the right to rule or run the country - this was a period of confusion and terrible destruction. Battle followed battle, execution followed execution, with first one side, then the other, achieving superiority.

Henry Tudor's father, a Lancastrian, was heavily involved in the campaigns and the fighting. He was eventually captured by Yorkist forces and died at Carmarthen some three or four months before his son was born.

Edmund's brother, Jasper, Earl of Pembroke, then became protector of Edmund's widow, the 13-year-old Margaret Beaufort. She was ensconced in Pembroke Castle, the strongest and most prestigious castle in the country, and there she gave birth to Henry.

When the Yorkist Edward IV came to the throne in 1461 Jasper Tudor was forced to flee, taking sanctuary on the continent. William Herbert was given control of Pembroke Castle and the young Henry lived in his household until 1469. When, thanks to the wiles of Warwick the Kingmaker, Edward was briefly deposed and Henry VI returned to the throne, Jasper also came back, bringing the young Henry to court with him.

It was a brief sojourn as Edward was soon back in control and Jasper - and Henry - were forced to flee once more. Henry spent the next 14 years in exile in Brittany, albeit as the last and most significant opponent of the Yorkist cause. He made one attempt to invade but this failed dismally. And so, in 1485, it was with a degree of trepidation that Henry decided on a final throw of the dice.

Backed by a small force of French soldiers he landed at Mill Bay in Milford Haven and called all of Wales to rally to his banner. By now Edward had died and his brother Richard had seized the English throne. He was not unduly popular in Wales and so many noblemen and foot soldiers did quickly join Henry's growing force, notably the king's main officer in this part of Wales, Sir Rhys ap Thomas.

Legend and fact do blur somewhat at this time. There is a wonderful story of Sir Rhys - who had sworn to the king that Henry would land only "over my body" - lying under a bridge so that Henry could march his army over his prostrate form and thereby keep his word. A great story - but probably only that, a story!

Henry Tudor duly defeated Richard at the and established his dynasty. During the build up to the battle he had unashamedly played on his Welsh origins, making great capital out of the old Welsh story of - the son of prophesy - who, people believed, would lead the Welsh out of oppression. He, Henry claimed, was that man.

Yet once he became king Henry neatly turned his back on Wales, leaving the control and governance of the country to men like Sir Rhys ap Thomas. Again, it is only a story but many believe that Henry's old nurse at Pembroke Castle, the wife of Philip ap Howell of Carmarthen, actually taught him to speak Welsh. He certainly remained fond of her and when he became king one of his first acts was to award her a pension. It was something of a shame that he did not think so highly of the country of his birth.

Yet Henry's main concern was to bring stability and peace to all of Britain so it is perhaps understandable that Wales, safe in the capable hands of Sir Rhys ap Thomas, should be left alone. Over the next 20 or so years Henry VII destroyed the power of the barons, outlawed private retainer armies and made the country wealthy once more.

Henry's claim to the throne may have been weak - it was, ultimately, little more than the power of the sword. But this previously rather obscure nobleman, whose roots lie in an island off the north coast of the country, remains one of the most influential Welshmen in British history.

Read more about the Tudors on the ´óÏó´«Ã½ Wales History website.

Published 400 years ago, the first comprehensive atlas of Great Britain is being celebrated by .

John Speed's Theatre of the Empire of Great Britaine is one of the world's great cartographic treasures. Published in 1611/12, it marked the first time that comprehensive plans of English and Welsh counties and towns were made available in print. Its influence was so great that it was used by armies on both sides of the English Civil War.

The maps were printed from copper plates which were engraved, in reverse, by highly skilled artisans. Maps were printed from these plates from time to time to check for errors - hence the Library's set of proofs. The library is home to one of only five surviving proof sets, all of which differ in their composition.

To celebrate its 400th anniversary, has digitised each of the proof maps and put them online at .

Anne Taylor, Head of the Map Department at the University Library, said:

"Although the Library holds several copies of the published atlas - including a first edition - it is the hand-coloured set of proofs produced between 1603 and 1611 that is one of its greatest treasures.

"It was bought by the University Library in 1968 after the government refused an export licence for the proofs to be sold abroad. We know it as the Gardner copy after its previous owner (Eric Gardner). It really is a rare and delightful item."

The county maps were the first consistent attempt to show territorial divisions, but it was Speed's town plans that were a major innovation and probably his greatest contribution to British cartography. Together they formed the first printed collection of town plans of the British Isles and, for at least 50 of the 73 included in the Theatre, it was the first time these towns had been mapped.

Anglesey ()

Glamorganshire ()

Pembrokeshire ()

Merionethshire ()

Read more about the maps of Wales on .

When war was declared against Germany on 3 September 1939, the children of Wales could have been excused for thinking that, whatever might happen in Poland or France, it would have little or no effect on them.

Child evacuees preparing to leave London

Wales was too far to the west to be greatly influenced or affected, out of range of the German bombers, and well protected by the huge might of the Royal Navy.

And yet, contrary to what they believed, the outbreak of war did have an immediate impact on Welsh children when the government, on the day after the declaration of war, closed all of the schools in Britain for a period of up to a week - and Welsh schools were included in the list of closures.

This extra week's holiday brought great delight for children all over the country but its purpose was both pragmatic and sensible - its purpose, in fact, was pure safety. Nobody knew if air attacks would be launched by Germany and schools, along with cinemas and almost any places of public gathering, could offer great targets. That much had been learned by the and Gotha bombing raids of World War One when several hundred civilians had been killed and a school in the East End of London destroyed in one of the later raids.

Much better to shut down these places where large numbers of people congregated, at least for a while. That would, at least, keep people safe. No immediate bombing attacks took place, however, and, to the dismay of the children, most schools re-opened within the week, thus making the extra holiday very short lived indeed.

Evacuees in Newtown and Oswestry

The other event that had an immediate affect on Welsh children was the arrival of hundreds of evacuees in the towns and villages, even in the cities, of the country. The government had laid out plans for wholesale evacuation of children from large industrial centres like London, Liverpool and Birmingham long before war actually began.

In fact there had already been an evacuation programme in operation during the Munich Crisis of 1938 but once Prime Minister Chamberlain had secured "peace in our time" it was abandoned and all of the children soon returned home.

The was an altogether more serious affair and to government planners and civil servants it was inevitable that, sooner or later, war against Hitler's Germany would break out.

As a consequence, Britain had been divided up into three separate regions or sections - neutral, reception and evacuation. Neutral areas were those parts of the country where there was not any great danger while reception regions were the places where evacuated people could be safely housed.

Evacuation areas were those places where danger from bombing was greatest and therefore parts of the country where the most vulnerable members of society - namely the very young - needed to be removed. Most of Wales were designated as a reception area.

The order to evacuate children was given on 31 August 1939, three days before war broke out. Over the following week almost two million people, most of them children, were sent away from their families in the industrial cities of the south east and the Midlands into the countryside of the west. Many of them went to the rural parts of south and north Wales.

In many cases schools were evacuated en masse, teachers simply moving with their pupils. Very young children were accompanied by their mothers but, in the main, it was a case of simply heading for the station and setting off for places unknown and probably never even dreamed about:

"I remember a crocodile of little ones having to walk to school. There we were tagged with a luggage label with our name and details. And then we were taken by bus to the station and put on a train." (Dennis Barratt in Wales At War)

The traumatic effect of such uprooting on these young evacuees, being suddenly snatched away from family and loved ones, from everything that was familiar and known, can only be imagined. And of course there was always the fear that, back home in London or Birmingham, bombs might be dropping and destroying people and places while they slept safe and secure in their beds.

For the children of Wales, the sudden and unexpected arrival of parties of youngsters from Liverpool or Manchester were often moments of high adventure. Local children would stand, staring, as the evacuees disembarked from their trains and follow them along the road to the dispersal centres. The new arrivals were almost exotic for boys and girls who had rarely ventured more than ten miles from their home towns.

In hindsight the evacuation process was far from humane, particularly the way children were herded together in a central location and chosen or rejected, just like cattle at a farmers market. Despite this process, in most cases the evacuees were welcomed warmly enough, although there were always exceptions.

Evacuee children had to attend school along with their Welsh counterparts and in places where the main language was Welsh there were several teething problems. For children from London and other industrial centres, the sights and sounds of the Welsh countryside were, to say the least, unusual. It was effectively the meeting of two cultures and after the initial curiosity had worn off what often emerged were moments of conflict:

"We were Welsh - they couldn't understand us and we couldn't understand them. We understood some of the words they used - "Daft," we knew what that meant. So we had to have a battle, the whole of Llanllynfni children against the evacuees, by the bridge, down at the bottom of the village." (Eluned Giles in Wales At War)

As the months went on, of course, local Welsh children and English evacuees grew to accept and even like each other. Many long lasting friendships were formed and each group - English and Welsh - influenced the lives and development of the other.

When the war ended most evacuees returned home. Indeed, many had already gone, having slipped back to the places of their birth once the main German bombing attacks ended in 1943. But many stayed on and made the country their home. Wales, after all, had been one of the most significant factors in their growth from childhood to adolescence.

No feature on the entire Welsh coastline is more remarkable or more fascinating than the sunken valley of .

Shakespeare, while he may not have visited the area, certainly knew of it. In Cymbeline he wrote about the ria (to give the waterway its correct geological name):

"Tell me how Wales was made so happy
As to inherit such a Haven."

The area around Milford Haven has felt and seen the presence of human beings since man first trod upon the earth. Evidence of early people has been found in many of the caves that nestle into the carboniferous limestone outcrops around the Haven, and it does not take the greatest imagination in the world to conjure a vision of hunting people from the Mesolithic and Neolithic periods paddling or sailing up the estuary in their simple skin boats, boats that were not dissimilar to modern Welsh .

Welsh coracle

Later, the Romans also knew the Haven and probably used it as a temporary base for their patrolling fleets from what is now the Cardiff area.

When the Romans left Britain in the years after 410 AD the early Christian missionaries used the estuary as a route into mainland Britain but it was the raiding Vikings that left an really indelible mark on the waterway.

Between AD 844 and 1091 they raided the Pembrokeshire coast many times, burning the nearby cathedral at St Davids on no fewer than eight separate occasions. Milford Haven was a safe anchorage for the Norsemen and the Chieftain Huba almost certainly gave his name to Hubberston, a small village at the mouth of the estuary, after he spent the winter of AD 877 sheltering in the Haven. Huba was apparently accompanied by a fleet of over 20 ships and nearly 2,000 warriors. The effect on the local birth rate can only be imagined.

Cleddau River in the fog. Photograph by George Johns.

Several other locations in and around the Haven have names of Viking origin. Carr Rocks off the town of Pembroke Dock derive their name from the Norse word "scare," meaning rocks, while Skokholm and Skomer Islands, just outside the Haven, are clearly names of Norse derivation.

With the coming of the Normans - themselves a people of Norse origin - the area of Milford Haven began to assume even greater political and military significance. A series of strong stone castles across the centre of Pembrokeshire created a line or barrier, the Landsker, with the Welsh to the north and a mixture of Flemish, Welsh and English to the south. Milford Haven lay within the English speaking region to the south of this Landsker and was, therefore, hugely significant for the early Norman kings in their campaigns against the Welsh and Irish.

The Haven has often been a centre for invasion, both outwards and inwards. In 1171 it was the base for Henry II's invasion of Ireland, over 400 ships gathering in the estuary before the assault.

In 1397 Richard II also left for Ireland from the Haven, as did Oliver Cromwell in 1649. Coming the other way, the Haven saw the arrival of a large number of French mercenaries, journeying to support Owain Glyndŵr, in his rebellion in 1405. Henry Tudor, born in Pembroke Castle just off the waterway, also landed in the Haven when he came to challenge and defeat Richard III in 1485.

The Haven had been used as a significant port since the Middle Ages but the modern-day town of Milford did not exist until 1790 when Sir William Hamilton, husband of Nelson's Emma, founded the place. His nephew, Charles Greville, invited seven Quaker whaling families from Nantucket and New England to settle in the town and start a whaling fleet.

The whaling venture was short lived but Milford did become an important fishing centre. By 1906 it was the sixth largest fishing port in Britain with over 500 people working either in the industry itself or in related trades. The fishing fleet continued to thrive throughout the first half of the 20th century, only really beginning to decline once fish stocks in the Atlantic started to vanish in the 1950s.

The importance of the Haven as a port had been noted by Admiral Nelson during his visit to the area in 1802, the Admiral apparently declaring it one of the finest natural harbours in the world. Considering his relationship with Emma Hamilton - and Sir William, with whom they lived in a bizarre ménage a trois - if Nelson did make such a statement then its objectivity has to be questioned.

The town of Milford did, briefly, serve as the base for a naval dockyard between 1797 and 1814 but it was too close to the mouth of the estuary and the land was privately owned. As a consequence the Navy Board of the Admiralty transferred its yard a few miles upstream to what soon became Pembroke Dock.

Lying on the southern shore of the Haven, the yards at Pembroke Dock were in existence for just over a hundred years. In that time they produced 263 warships and four royal yachts, becoming one of the finest dockyards in the world. When they closed in 1926 it caused widespread unemployment in the area.

The RAF created a flying boat base in the old dockyard in the years after 1930 and for many locals and visitors the sight of giant Sunderland flying boats on the waters of the Haven was a remarkable and welcome experience. When the base closed in 1959 it was a sad day for Pembroke Dock and for the Milford Haven waterway.

With the Suez Crisis of the early 1950s and the loss of the Suez Canal as a trade route - temporarily, as it turned out - Milford Haven again assumed a strategical importance when the construction of large, deep water oil tankers - to bring oil from the Middle East around the tip of Africa - became an imperative. Such giant vessels needed a secure base and Milford Haven, with plenty of deep water, was the site chosen.

In 1960 the Esso oil company opened their refinery just outside the town of Milford, closely followed by other refineries and pumping stations such as BP, Regent (soon renamed Texaco), Gulf and Amoco.

Within a few short years both sides of the Haven were encrusted with the derricks, tanks and jetties of the oil industry. It seemed as if long-term prosperity had come again to the area. By 1970 Milford Haven was the leading oil port in Britain, the second largest in Europe.

It was a brief flourish, however, as the "oil boom" finally stuttered to an end in the late 1970s and early 1980s. Esso closed down in 1983 after just 20 years of operation. Gulf lasted a little longer before finally shutting down in December 1997. The BP pumping station at Popton on the south shore of the Haven also soon closed.

Nowadays the Haven is still in use as a base for the leisure industry. Milford docks function as a marina and there are other centres for watersports at Neyland and Pembroke Dock. The Irish ferry operates out of the old dockyard at Pembroke Dock and the sight of ships, small and large, sailing up and down the Haven remains relatively common.

As Nelson may or may not have said, the Milford Haven waterway is one of the finest natural harbours in the world. It is an essential destination for anyone who wishes to see and experience all of Wales, not just the industrial heritage of the south east.

Red Letter Day, the series that looks at key events in Wales through archive footage, explores how the Suez crisis in the 1950s led to the industrial resurgence of Milford Haven. It's on ´óÏó´«Ã½ One Wales on Tuesday 19 April at 10.35pm.

´óÏó´«Ã½ Wales History blogger Phil Carradice joined The One Show's roving reporter Angelica Bellto talk about last invasion of Britain in 1797. It took place in west Wales when 1,400 members of the French Légion Noire landed on the Pencaer Peninsula just outside Fishguard.

You can watch Phil's debut on The One Show on the player below. You'll need to scroll the time bar to 16 minutes and 20 seconds into the programme.

If you'd like to read about the last invasion of Britain, take a look at Phil's article on the ´óÏó´«Ã½ Wales History blog.

.Most of us could probably be excused for failing to note 14 April 1188 as an important date. It's hardly one that springs to mind when you consider great moments in the calendar of Welsh history. But this was the day when finally finished his mammoth 600 mile trek around Wales, a trek that led to him writing Descriptio Cambriae, one of the earliest of all travel books.

Giraldus Cambrensis in Latin, Gerallt Cymro in Welsh, Gerald of Wales in English - the man had as many names as he had careers.

Born in Manorbier Castle on the south coast of Pembrokeshire in approximately 1146, Giraldus came from a mixed Norman-Welsh background. His father, William de Barri, was one of the leading Anglo-Norman barons while his uncle, David Fitzgerald, was .

Giraldus was the grandson of Gerald de Windsor, constable of Pembroke Castle during the early years of its existence, and of Princess Nest, the daughter of Rhys ap Tewdr. So his pedigree as a well-to-do nobleman left nothing to be desired. However, with an uncle as bishop of St Davids it was, perhaps, inevitable that his education should have a religious bias.

He went, first, to school in Gloucester, then to Paris to finish his education. He returned to Britain somewhere around 1172 and was immediately employed by the archbishop of Canterbury on a number of ecclesiastical missions in his native Wales.

St Davids Cathedral

When his uncle, the bishop, died, Giraldus was proposed by the chapter of St Davids Cathedral as by far the most suitable man to succeed him. The king and the archbishop of Canterbury refused the nomination, however. The king, Henry II certainly did not want a dynamic and energetic man in charge at St Davids - such a man could only give extra importance to the people of Wales. In effect he was not appointed simply because he was Welsh!

As it happened, Giraldus was again nominated for the bishopric of St Davids in 1198. The king, by then, was John, the son of Henry. Although he allowed an election among members of the chapter, an election that Giraldus won and then went on to serve four years as bishop elect, in the end it was a position that went to someone else. Giraldus was bitterly disappointed and even left the country, fleeing because the ports were being watched and patrolled, to try to present his case to the Pope - all to no avail.

Failing to gain the bishopric at St Davids did not mean Giraldus was totally out of favour with the monarchy. As early as 1184, for example, he had been appointed Royal Clerk and chaplain to Henry II and the same year he accompanied Prince John on his military conquests in Ireland. This led to his first book, Topographia Hibernia (1188), an account of the campaign and one that stressed the barbaric nature of the native Irish.

As something of a reward for his services, in 1188 Giraldus was nominated to accompany the archbishop of Canterbury, Baldwin of Exeter, as he rode through Wales on a recruiting drive. The purpose of the journey was to enlist men for The Third Crusade but as far as Giraldus was concerned the trip gave him the ideal opportunity to study his fellow countrymen and to develop his literary skills.

The books that Giraldus produced after the journey, Itinerarium Cambriae and Descriptio Cambriae, still stand as valuable historical documents but their real importance lies in the fact that they set the tone for all travel writing ever since.

The books do not just record places visited and sights seen but are full of Giraldus's unique take on Welsh life, prejudiced and vain as they are - a style that so many travel writers had emulated over the years. "This is what I saw but this is what I think," Giraldus seemed to be saying.

The personal opinion, something so vital in good travel writing, was shown to its best advantage in these two books. If the best advice of travel writer Jan Morris is "Never divorce the I" then it is something that Giraldus Cambrensis understood and used long, long before:

"Merioneth - - - is the rudest and least cultivated region and the least accessible. The natives of that part of Wales excel in the use of long lances, as those of Monmouth are distinguished for their management of the bow."

As a chronicler of his times and as a travel writer Giraldus Cambrensis was unsurpassed. He went on to become archdeacon of Brecon and visited Rome three times - no easy task in the 12th and 13th centuries. He was offered the bishoprics of places such as Wexford and Bangor but refused them. St Davids was what he wanted but was never offered.

Critical, prejudiced and self opinionated, Giraldus still managed to retain an open mind about many Welsh customs:

"No one in this region ever begs for the houses are common to all. And they consider liberality and hospitality amongst the first of virtues."

Giraldus Cambrensis died about 1223, disappointed in his main ambition but the provider of one of the earliest pieces of travel writing - and for that we should be grateful.

and the Menai Explorer Scouts are working together to map the remains of World War Two aircraft which crashed into the mountains of Snowdonia.

Llyn Ogwen from Cwm Lloer

The scouts have already found an Avro Anson aircraft which came down on the Carneddau range in 1943.

Anson wreckage

Recording the wreckage

Scout leader Stephen Mudge said it was important to locate the wreckage as it was part of Wales' heritage.

Snowdonia has one of the highest concentration of World War Two casualties, with 20 known British and German crash sites. During World War Two several Allied aircraft, and a few German ones, crashed in Snowdonia as a result of bad weather, a lack of modern instruments and in air combat.

Read the full story on the ´óÏó´«Ã½ North West Wales News website.

Phil Carradice was on the Roy Noble show this week to chat about the Snowdon Mountain Railway disaster which had its 115th anniversary this week.

The pair also chatted about the art of blogging. Phil talks about how he approaches writing his blogs and some of the favourite history blogs he has published on this site.

You can listen to Phil and Roy on the audio clips below.

Phil and Roy chat about blogging:

Roy asks Phil from where he gets his ideas:

A trip up , the highest mountain in Wales and England, is an experience not to be missed. For those who are fit enough, and have the energy, there are several possible routes and the sense of achievement when the summit is finally reached should never be underestimated.

Snowdonia by Marian Jones

However, for those who would prefer it, there is another way - a trip on the Snowdon Mountain Railway.

Snowdon Mountain Railway

The highest railway in Britain, this rack and pinion narrow gauge line stretches 4.7 miles from the terminus in Llanberis to the summit of the mountain, 3,560 feet above sea level. It has always been, and remains, an engineering masterpiece but the running of the railway has not always been without incident.

The idea of constructing a railway up the mountain was first proposed back in 1869 but there were objections from people living in the area as many believed such a railway would only serve to spoil the scenery of Snowdon and the surrounding countryside. The plan was therefore dropped for several years.

Only when a rival proposal to build a line from Rhyd Ddu to the summit was put forward did the original idea resurface. The Snowdon Mountain Railway and Hotel Company was quickly formed and the possibility of a summit railway now became a genuine option.

Once the plan was hatched and the company formed, building began. It was a quick project, the line being constructed between December 1894 and February 1896, a period of just over 12 months. This meant working through two winters when conditions on Snowdon were nothing less than horrific. Nevertheless progress was excellent, the first locomotives being delivered in the summer of 1895 which, with the lines being laid from Llanberis upwards, were used to transport raw materials up the mountain.

As the railway was planned or designed, there were a number of stations on the route where passengers could join or leave the train but, inevitably, most people were aiming for the summit.

The work did not come cheaply. The final cost of the project was in the region of £63,000. These days that figure would translate to somewhere in the region of £8 million.

A few days before the official opening of the line, contractors ran a locomotive up to the summit. A boulder that had fallen from the rock face actually derailed several of the engine's wheels but workmen quickly manoeuvred these back onto the track and everything was put in place for opening day.

This occurred on 6 April 1896 and two trains were duly dispatched for the summit. The ascent was fine but on the way down disaster struck.

The first engine, "LADAS," driven by William Pickles from Yorkshire, ran into difficulties a few hundred yards above Clogwyn Station. The load was simply too great and Pickles had great difficulty keeping the engine under control. The wheels jumped the rail, the train thereby losing its ability to brake, and it simply ran away.

Pickles applied the handbrake but it did not work. With the train now gathering speed downhill Pickles and the fireman decided that discretion was the better part of valour and leapt off the footplate. The engine continued its descent, going faster every second until, failing to negotiate a left-hand curve, it toppled and fell gracefully over the side of the mountain.

Climbers coming up the mountain towards Clogwyn later commented that they thought they saw a huge boulder falling towards them. In fact it was the runaway engine that was now tumbling down the mountainside.

Back on the track things did not get any easier. The two carriages, now minus their engine, also gathered speed until, at last, the automatic brakes slammed on and they came to a graceful halt.

Unfortunately, one passenger, a Mr Ellis Roberts of Llanberis, had witnessed the driver and fireman leap off the engine and, with the carriages in which he sat also out of control, he thought he would do the same. Unfortunately, he was not so lucky as William Pickles. He smashed his head on the rocks and debris alongside the line, being so badly injured that he died a few days later.

As if all that was not enough, the second train now appeared on the scene. Weather conditions were poor with mist over the top half of the mountain and there was no way news of the disaster could be sent to the second train. It ploughed into the rear of the carriages at Clogwyn, de-railing the engine and passenger accommodation. Luckily, there were no serious injuries.

At the subsequent Inquiry the cause of the disaster was stated to be settlement of the track and excess speed due to the weight of the engine and its carriages. Weight for all future trains would have to be reduced. It meant ordering lighter carriages and the introduction of a 'gripper' rail system to improve safety. The line up Snowdon was closed for just over 12 months, no more trains running until 9 April 1897.

Since then the Snowdon Mountain Railway has run continuously, even though passengers were not allowed to travel to the summit during World War Two. Full service was reintroduced in 1946 when, interestingly, due to fuel shortages old army boots were burned in the boilers of the engines. Ex-servicemen on the trains would probably have thought it an appropriate end to those hated pieces of footwear.

The famous Summit Café - for some a boon, for others an eyesore - was demolished in 2006 and a new building, called Hafod Eryri (roughly translated as The High House of Snowdon) opened in the summer of 2009.

Snowdon by Monika Buczma

Passengers still regularly travel up the line, enjoying the engine and the trip as much as the scenery. It remains one of the great Welsh experiences for any visitor but most of them will never have heard about the disaster that befell the line on opening day.

´óÏó´«Ã½ Wales Nature has a gallery with fantastic images of Snowdonia for you to explore.

Phil Carradice will be on The Roy Noble Show on Radio Wales, today, Wednesday 6 April just after 2.30pm. Phil will be chatting with Roy about the Mountain Railway Disaster. You can listen live to Radio Wales on the ´óÏó´«Ã½ Radio Wales player.

The future of two extremely rare -designed stained glass panels has been secured following their purchase for £125,000 by , the Welsh Assembly Government's historic environment service.

Cadw's Inspector of Ancient Monuments , Rick Turner, with the two panels

The panels, which were once part of a set of 20 for the chapel at near Cardiff, will go on public display at the fairytale castle in the summer.

Burges designed a timber-framed chapel springing out of the roof of the Well Tower which was fitted with the stained glass panels. The chapel was demolished sometime before 1891 and the 20 panels were recorded as being stored on site in 1901.

Castle Coch, near Cardiff

Ten of those panels are on display in a gallery at Cardiff Castle while eight more are displayed in a model of the chapel in the attic room of Castell Coch's Well Tower. The whereabouts of the two missing panels had been a mystery until they failed to sell at an auction last year.

Rick Turner, Cadw's Inspector of Ancient Monuments, said:

"The panels show a variety of Welsh and British saints and key biblical figures and are of the highest quality Victorian stained glass. William Burges' work attracts enormous worldwide attention and the price reflects the artistic genius of the man and the rare quality of these glass panels."

Speaking about the acquisition, Alun Ffred Jones, Heritage Minister, added:

"I am pleased Cadw has been able to secure these important glass panels which now means all 20 original panels are back in Wales for the first time for over a century."

Find out more about Welsh castles on the ´óÏó´«Ã½ Wales History website.

A new museum dedicated to the history of Cardiff officially opens today, Friday 1 April.

Told through a number of themes, The Cardiff Story will show how much the city has changed over the last 200 years.

Animal wall ©​The Cardiff Story

The new museum is located on the site of the iconic Victorian Grade II listed Old Library in the centre of the city, and will be open seven days a week. Entry will be free.

The museum focuses on telling Cardiff's history through the eyes of those who made it - its people. The collection is made up of over 3,000 objects, the vast majority of which has been donated by the Cardiff public, and items range from a cutlass used by the Bute Docks police in the late 19th century to a jukebox from Clwb Ifor Bach.

The museum includes a permanent introductory gallery (Cardiff in Context), a fully interactive lifelong learning suite (City Lab), state of the art classrooms, a community showcase gallery and access to the Grade II listed historic tiled corridor.

Inside the museum. ©​ The Cardiff Story

Docks ©​ The Cardiff Story

City Lab ©​ The Cardiff Story

Engelhardt Learning Suite ©​ The Cardiff Story

Find out more about The Cardiff Story as well as information on opening times on .