HOLYWELL, the largest and most prosperous town in Flintshire, occupies the brow and summit of an eminence near the coast of the Chester channel, or estuary of the Dee. It is a respectable, busy place, possessing some commercial importance, and has been made contributory with Flint, and the other ancient boroughs, in returning one member to the imperial parliament. Its manufactures consist in the smelting and forging of ores and metals raised in the mineral districts of the county; and very extensive works are conducted here of copper, lead, brass, and calamine,—to which have lately been annexed factories of cotton and silk. The parish church is situated at the foot of the steep hill on which the principal streets are erected, and so overhung, that the toll of a bell, if suspended in the tower, would be inaudible in the town. This singular and accidental inconvenience is remedied in the following manner:—A person employed for the purpose carries a good heavy bell, suspended by a strap passing across his shoulders, and falling against a cushion that covers over one of his knees. At every advance of the cushioned knee the bell tolls, and in this way the parishioners are noticed, the length of the bell-toller’s tour being equal to the usual time allowed for summoning a congregation in the accustomed manner.
The English name Holywell, and the Welsh “Tre-ffynnon,” are derived from the celebrated well of Winifred, a saint and martyr, who flourished some time in the seventh century. The fabulous biography of this religious person is extremely singular, and entirely identified with the history of the well. Like the hieroglyphics of the Egyptians, or the mythology of ancient Greece and Rome, the story of St. Winifred undoubtedly possesses some more rational interpretation; but it is a labyrinth from which a clue is yet wanting to enable those involved to effect their escape.
The legendary history assures us that Winifred was the daughter of Thewith, a powerful lord of this country in the seventh century, and niece to the pious St. Beuno. Her uncle having obtained permission from her father to build a church here, took Winifred, who is represented as “devout, young, and beautiful,” under his protection, to assist him in his religious exercises. In this district there lived at the same period Cradocus, the son of King Alen, who, becoming enamoured of the charms of this beautiful young lady, determined to obtain her hand in marriage. It was on a Sunday morning that the young prince first declared the ardour of his affection to Winifred, while her father and his retinue were attending church; but the lady, making a modest excuse for her abrupt retirement, escaped from his presence and ran towards the church. Cradocus, enraged at the rejection of his suit, pursued her to the brow of the bill, and there, drawing his sword, severed her head from her body. The head immediately rolled down the hill, and up to the altar in the church around which her father and her relatives were assembled; and from the spot where it rested a clear and rapid fountain instantly gushed up. St. Beuno hastily caught up the bleeding head, and placing it upon the body they forthwith reunited, no trace of separation remaining but a little white line encircling the neck. As for the assassin, he instantly dropped down dead upon the spot; but the legend does not decide whether the earth swallowed him up, or his Satanic majesty bore his impious corpse away. The waters of the spring, notwithstanding the reunion of the head and trunk, continued to issue with unabated rapidity; the sides of the well became clothed with a delicious scented moss, and the pebbles at the bottom were tinctured with a few drops of the martyr’s blood. Winifred survived her decapitation fifteen years, and retiring to the monastery of Gwytherin, in Denbighshire, there accepted the veil from the hands of St. Elerius, and died abbess of that religious house. Ecclesiastic historians acknowledge that she was interred there; and four upright stones, forming a continued right line, on one of which the name Winifred is graven in ancient characters, are still shown in the churchyard at Gwytherin as the grave of this celebrated virgin martyr. According to Dugdale, a sober author, the bones of St. Winifred were exhumed and translated from Gwytherin to the abbey of Shrewsbury in 1136, by Robertus Salopiensis, who was abbot there, and who wrote an account of her life and miracles.