Y Farwoleath Farw: The Black Death in Wales by Jay Shapley-Jones

July 1, 2025

As 1348 drew to a close, a chilling shadow began to emerge across the horizon of continental Europe. Whispers of this unseen enemy would permeate almost every town, parish and household, unleashing an impending catastrophe that would have a grim impact on life as medieval Europeans knew it. This veiled menace arrived on the shores of the British Isles sometime in spring 1349, transforming the one bustling trade ports into gateways of death.

The Black Death was an unstoppable force that engulfed entire towns, parishes and shires across England and Wales. As darkness shrouded mid-thirteenth century Wales, the ancient land lay under a cloud of fear and uncertainty. The plague, blind to age, gender or class, did not discriminate; it reached out and claimed all who ventured into its path.

Torrents of suffering were unleashed upon the afflicted with ghastly symptoms tearing through communities like a tempest. Innocent shivers becoming creeping chills, spreading through the body with fevers raging and consuming the body with an ungodly heat. The skin, flushed, swollen and tender, erupted with horrifying buboes both painful and large in size.

Nobles and peasants alike in Wales found themselves deeply affected both economically and socially. The rugged hills and deep valleys of Wales allowed the pestilence to creep silently, moving between parishes, leaving only death and decay in her wake. The ancient forests and crumbling medieval fortresses were saturated with the stench of mortality. A trail of devastation crossed borders between the shires.

The lordship of Abergavenny recorded only one-third of its usual rents collected, as over half of its inhabitants either lay dead or had fled in a desperate attempt to save their own lives. In Ruthin, seventy-seven inhabitants lay dead by the end of June, with similar numbers being reported in other major towns such as Llangollen, Llanerch, and Dogfelin.

Source: Bridgeman Art Library

Caldicot experienced exceptional mortality, with only four out of the previous forty tenants surviving and being able to carry out labour on the manor. Those, thirty-six unfree tenants were recorded to have been killed by the pestilence. The labour force of the manor of Caldicot had been reduced by ninety percent. While attempts to recoup the manor and fill the empty tenements were enacted in the 1390s, it was to little avail. The Second pestilence stuck around 1362 and similar mortality rates once again permeated the manor of Caldicot.

For those who managed to evade the pestilence, their lives lay in the ashes of economic ruin. Rents fell, tenements were left abandoned, and lands remained uncultivated. Major market towns like Caerphilly, Cardiff and Tenby had their markets ceased. At least nine boroughs were recorded to have been completely deserted in the following decades.

The Black Death brought a winnowing of townships in Wales, a phenomenon that would be felt for decades to come. Farmer Richard Talbot of Pembroke was pardoned of his rent to the crown after suffering a grave loss of forty marks yearly. Fairs and markets in neighbouring Haverford suffered a significant decrease in revenue that persisted for decades after the initial spread of the plague. In a letter to King Henry IV in 1407, the Countess of March detailed the effects of the subsequent pestilences and feared that she would die penniless and in great debt. The Black death swept through most communities with unrelenting fury.

Dark shadows of human nature were unearthed in its wake as violence festered and thieves emerged to reap the benefits by robbing plague-stricken families. The Ruthin court rolls of august 1349 recounts the case of two brothers, Madoc and Knwric ap Ririd, who, under the cover of darkness, stole pitchers, basins, iron and money from a house. The same brothers were witnessed to have stolen three oxen and three cows from John the Parker.

The church suffered tremendously in the wake of the Black Death, having a significant impact on religious life in Wales. Heavy mortality swept through the boundaries of Llandaff, near Cardiff, with a suggested rate of forty-three percent, if we consider neighbouring Hereford as an example. The number of monks and friars were significantly reduced by the late fourteenth century. Margam Abbey, once the wealthiest and largest of all the monasteries in Glamorgan, reported a substantial fall in the number of monks in 1383. A deep economic crisis had set in and other abbeys across the land would have suffered a similar fate. The church, like most parts of Wales, suffered from an increasing labour shortage, leaving many priories unable to find priests willing to work. Mass ordinations began to take place in an effort to combat the dwindling strength of priesthood.

Religious life faced dire consequences as a direct result of the pestilence. Care and hospitality were being withheld from parishes such as St David’s, while worship and devotion by the locals dwindled daily. Records describe many chancels and buildings being left in ruin, some even having fallen to the ground. Attempts to rebuild life to some semblance of pre-plague Welsh life were carried out towards the end of the fourteenth century. These dreams, however, were scuppered with the coming of war.

The Welsh rebellion led by Owain Glyndwr at the beginning of the fifteenth century intended to break the Welsh free of English chains and establish Wales as an independent kingdom. The war exacerbated economic struggles that Welsh shires were still dealing with in the aftermath of the Black Death and the subsequent pestilences that broke out towards the end of the fourteenth century. Mortality rates continued to rise, towns and shires continued to fall into economic ruin, and churches were unable to revert themselves back to their former glories. Streets once filled with vibrant life, joyful gatherings and bustling markets were transformed into dearth reminders of devastation.

The Black Death swept through the valleys of Wales, leaving behind a sombre legacy. The echoes of this past resonate with us today in the twenty-first century as, through the mists of time, we can attempt to sympathise with the fear of the unknown and the impending doom that became etched into the very fabric of the land. A story of plague is partly a story of loss and devastation, yet it is also a story of resilience, strength and courage. The Black Death is a story that has been told countless times in medieval histories of Britain and the continent, yet, like most of history, Wales seemed to be left out of the conversation. It is important to recount these histories in order to preserve the rich tapestry Welsh life.

About the Author

Jay Shapley-Jones is a Welsh medieval and early modern historian specialising in witchcraft, the occult, The Black Death and the English Civil War. He holds a bachelor's degree in ancient and medieval history and a masters degree in history from Cardiff University.

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