In Wrexham, if you ask someone you know, to name its famous sons and daughters, too, it’s likely that they’ll turn to sporting links, and that – in many ways – is fair enough. They’ve put us on the map, to worldwide fame – the likes of Robbie Savage, Rosie Hughes, Mark Hughes and even Terry Hennessey. Or other Wrexham-born celebrities, like Amy Guy (Miss Wales and Miss UK); Tim Vincent, once Blue Peter’s leading star; the actors, David Bower, Andy Scott; Adrian Holmes, of Cult and Star Trek shows; Mark Lewis Jones from Rhos, and Amy Clarke.
But ask about those others, dead and gone, and you’ll be met with puzzled frowns, at best.
So, let’s track back to centuries gone by. And start with Catholic martyr, Richard Gwyn, maybe not born here, though it’s sure he died, in 1584, upon the spot where now, just outside Tesco, we might park. Hang’d, drawn and quartered, butchered like a beast for nothing more contentious than his faith and, even then, from perjured evidence. Where is the plaque, or QR Code, for him, upon this spot which saw his cruel death?
At least, for Morgan Llwyd, there’s a stone, a monument in Rhosddu’s burial ground. For, educated here in Wrexham town, he gained renown, fighting at Cromwell’s side – then as a preacher, poet, author, too. Complex philosophies, still much admired.
In 1645, at Acton Hall, a baby boy was born who’d come to fame, at forty, as the new Lord Chancellor. George Jeffreys – judge of wicked Titus Oates – but better known now as the Hanging Judge, who sentenced seven hundred to be killed. The Monmouth Rising’s awful aftermath.
Maybe Elihu Yale is better known. In Boston born, though all his family, the Iâls, famous throughout all Denbighshire. He made his name in distant old Madras by governing the post of Fort St. George. He made a fortune there, from diamonds – and slaves. Returning home to Wrexham – Plas Grono – he helped Connecticut to fund a school. And later gave his name to it, as well. Yale College (now the university). In death, he left his own obituary, inscribed still on his tomb at our St. Giles’.
Soon afterwards, mid-18th Century. Not many know the tale of Wrexham’s part, though small, within the history of the ’45. The very first Sir Watkin Williams Wynn, whose Cycle Club – which met in what is now the Wynnstay Arms – raised funds for Jacobites, supporters of the Bonnie Stuart Prince, and dragged us into bloody civil war, with absolutely no purpose, except replacing one vain crown for just one more.
Another Jacobite supporter, too, was Lady Anne Primrose (née Drelincourt), who sheltered orphans of that awful war within the safety of her Caego home.
The town was transformed by John Wilkinson, and “Iron Mad” he definitely was; the opening of Bersham Ironworks and, later, Brymbo’s iron smelting plant. By 1885, commercial steel – though, now, with different owners for the plant. Yet, it’s to Wilkinson we owe the debt.
Perhaps our Brymbo steel was used to forge the sabres of our 13th Light Dragoons, who charged the guns on Balaclava’s Heights. Within their ranks, a certain Edwin Hughes. Half a league, half a league – half a league more, and Edwin’s horse was killed by cannon fire; though, he survived and lived to tell the tale, returned to Wrexham: Balaclava Ned.
But what of Philip Yorke’s reluctant bride? The famous Annette Fountayne Puleston? Annette the Beauty, wed at twenty-two. 1877, in the spring. A honeymoon, but then she’d had enough, rode off into the sunset with her maid, upon a milk cart, pastures new to find. She reached the top designing luggage carts, for wealthy clients all around the world.
Born on her father’s ship, while still at sea, poor Frances Caton’s name should be recalled. Brought up in Wrexham, trained to be a nurse, at the Infirmary on Regent Street. In World War One, she served in Serbia and, then, Salonika, where Frances died. Appendicitis. She was buried there, and still remembered as a heroine.
Islwyn Ffowc Elis still has a plaque, upon the house in Acton, where he lived. Prolific writer in the Welsh language, Cysgod y Cryman his most famous work, the 20th Century’s best Welsh language book. Utopian Wales, Sci-Fi and time travel, Ffowc Elis wrote them all, plus plays and poems.
He’d not have met that other Acton boy – ten years his senior, round in Cilcen Grove. Though born in Ireland, David Lord was taught, in Wrexham; then, he joined the RAF. A transport pilot – Douglas DC-2s – he gained promotion when the war began. In World War Two, of course, North Africa; then India and Burma – DFC. But, finally, in D-Day and beyond. A flight lieutenant now, he flew his plane to Arnhem where they tried to drop supplies for all our troops surrounded on the ground. And, though his plane was already in flames, he made one final pass to bring them aid. In doing so, he sacrificed his life. A few years later, grateful government awarded the Victoria Cross to Lord. But, here in Wrexham, we remember him with plaques in Cilcen Grove, St. Mary’s Church, and on the walls of our Memorial Hall.
It’s there, too, we must think of many more. The nameless ones who gave their lives – Welch Fusiliers, at Mametz Wood, Kohima and the rest. The ’34 disaster, Gresford pit – the men who died in those rescue attempts.
So, please, of course it’s fine for us to list celebrities in Wrexham’s Hall of Fame but, fingers crossed, we’ll teach our kids to name these others – they deserve it, just the same.
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