Arson fear stalks UK’s smallest church built in prison for drunks
Andrew Forgrave
LAYERS of history have given rise to one of the great curiosities of North Wales – a tiny prison that became Britain’s smallest church.
Located in the foot of Caernarfon’s eastern medieval gateway, it is so unremarkable that many people walk past without ever knowing it is there.
Probably just as well. According to its current owner, local legend suggests it was once a place where children stayed before they were hanged.
Little is known about the origins of the room, located in what would have been part of the arched bridge leading to Porth Mawr, the 13th-century gateway to Caernarfon’s High Street.
It is so small that, as a lock-up, it could “hardly have housed many prisoners at the same time”.
As a church it can accommodate up to three worshippers, at a squeeze.
Today, Eastern Orthodox crosses adorn its door and single window. It became a church two decades ago when the room was bought by Father Demetrius, Bishop Abbott of St John the Baptist and St George, the monastery he founded in Carmel seven miles from Caernarfon.
“It was previously used as a store,” he said. “It needed planning permission for use as a church, so I applied and was successful.
“The idea was to leave it open so that the people of Caernarfon had somewhere to visit to meditate and pray.”
Father Demetrius was also motivated by medieval legends linking Caernarfon to Constantine the Great.
Not only was he the Roman Emperor who founded Constantinople (modern Istanbul), after which Edward I modelled Caernarfon Castle, he was responsible for the Nicean Creed and is said to have brought Christianity to the Empire.
There was another, more prosaic reason for choosing Caernarfon as his new Orthodox outpost.
As a travelling priest reliant on public transport, the room came in handy if Father Demetrius missed the last bus back to Carmel.
He installed an altar, icons, holy doors and a single pew capable of seating three people.
With simple, lime-washed walls, it is a virtue of Christian modesty – a world away from the room’s former incarnation as an overnight lock-up for Caernarfon’s drunks.
Dressed in black robes, Father Demetrius often wanders the town, chatting to people and offering help.
Two years ago, however, his faith was severely tested by an incident that changed his view of Caernarfon.
“Some young people set the church on fire,” he said. “Fortunately, I was nearby at the time.
“People rushed to tell me what was happening and I was able to put out the fire without too much damage being caused.
“But it really upset me. I was shocked that someone could do this. It’s why the door and window now have grilles over them. Unfortunately, Caernarfon has a rough element.
“So now I have to lock up the Church when I’m not in Caernarfon. When I’m visiting the town, I’ll leave it open, but not for too long in case it happens again.”
As befits its diminutive size, a tiny plaque on the door modestly proclaims the Chapel of SS Peter & Paul as the “smallest registered church in the UK”.
Not all churches are registered, but there are unlikely to be too many rivals for the title. An exception is St Trillo’s Chapel in Rhos on Sea, Conwy, which holds regular services for up to six people.
How and why the room came into being is a matter of conjecture.
Originally, Porth Mawr and its drawbridge were served by a wooden bridge that crossed marshland either side of the river Cadnant.
Later, this causeway was replaced by an arched stone bridge, upon which Stryd y Porth Mawr street now sits. Much of the area was rebuilt in 1767 and 1833, creating a town hall and Guildhall above the arch. The river was culverted and its banks were built on, partly in response to the construction of a new harbour, partly to ease flooding problems in the old town centre.
Occasionally, the river resurfaces – as occurred in November 1973, leading to what was described as the time as Caernarfon’s “worst flood of the 20th Century”. A blockage in the culvert was blamed.
Much of the stone bridge remains, though it lies hidden under Stryd y Porth Mawr and the buildings alongside it.
SS Peter & Paul Chapel lies beneath what would have once been the barbican, a smaller defensive gate at the junction of the drawbridge and stone bridge.
Its address, on Bank Quay, betrays its former riverside location before the Cadnant was culverted.
As Stryd y Porth Mawr emerged from the remains of the old stone causeway, the bridge’s nooks and arches may have been repurposed, suggests archaeologist Sue Kirk, of Historic Tours Wales, which offers guided visits to the great historic attractions of north west Wales.
“They may have been sealed up and used as rooms, a bit like you see with the old railway arches in London and elsewhere,” she said.
It seems likely the room was deliberately developed as a lock-up in the late 18th Century.
Old Carnarvon, a book written by WH Jones in 1882, records that a police station once lay nearby, with subterranean prison cells.
The book also sheds light on life inside the lock-up for the town’s drunks.
“The cell itself is dark, damp and cold,” it said. “A night’s accommodation would have been enough to sober up any miscreant offender. Purchases of straw records indicate that this was the only “furnishing” allowed.”
The spartan conditions gave little incentive for inmates to stay there. “Not infrequently, the prisoners managed to escape by breaking down the walls and windows,” reported Mr Jones.
“If they were sober is not known.” Corporation of Caernarfon records from 1828 indicate one break-out caused damage worth £144 in today’s money.
Not much is known about the room’s use after 1840. Probably, for much of the time, it lay empty or was used for storage.
For the past 21 years, however, it has echoed to thrice-daily offices of prayer and psalms and the occasional Greek or Russian wedding.