For over half a century, Barbara Wood lived a life of abject squalor as the unrelenting chatelaine of Cardigan Castle.

With no electricity, gas nor running water, her living conditions were extreme.  But as the property continued its relentless decay, the spinster clung onto her realm with an unquenchable commitment. Despite the concerns of the people around her, nobody was going to take Cardigan Castle away from Barbara Wood.

“She’s a very difficult woman to sum up as she combined so many contrasting characteristics,” said local historian Glen Johnson.

“In many ways she was a Jeckyll and Hyde.  She was intelligent, witty and charming, but she could also be stern, bad tempered, selfish, manipulative and cantankerous.  In many ways she was like Marmite.  You either loved her or you hated her.”

Glen first met Miss Wood when he was a 14-year-old schoolboy with a keen interest in local history – particularly Cardigan Castle.  The following year -1985 -he helped establish Cardigan Castle Volunteers.

“I was a little nervous when I first met her because this, after all, was the woman who owned Cardigan Castle.

“And what struck me about her more than anything was that she was a living version of Miss Havisham.  She still saw herself as the lady of the manor despite the fact that everyone else could see the awful conditions she was living in, and the way in which the castle was being neglected.”

Barbra Wood bought the castle in 1940, after receiving an inheritance on her 21st birthday.  The asking price was £2,500, however her gift enabled her to have just enough money to cover the cost of the deposit, which totalled £600.

She moved in with her mother but within 12 months, they’d accrued a substantial bill as a result of the electricity they’d used. Their electricity supply was subsequently cut off in 1941, shortly followed by the gas supply and the water supply.  

Following her mother’s death , Miss Woods remained confined to one room.

“She slept in an old chair filled with blankets so she could keep herself warm, but there was a small hole in the ceiling and a much larger hole in the roof of the floor above,” says Glen.

“So she could see the stars quite clearly from where she was living.  The kitchen had this overwhelming smell of paraffin and cat pee, as well as the demon fridge.  Obviously the fridge wasn’t working, as there was no electricity, and when you opened the door, the stench from inside was horrendous.

“She’d then take out some fluffy object and eat it.”

Despite the house being surrounded by two-and-a-half acres of trees, Miss Wood chose to tear up the parquet flooring in the dining room together with the joists and skirting boards and use them to light fires to keep herself warm.

Shde would never rise before noon, and would never be seen outside the castle gates until 5pm.

“This stemmed back to the days when the bailiffs would be waiting outside the castle gates,” explained Glen.  “She knew they bailiffs would knock off at 5pm, so she’d never venture out until then.”

With a curvature of the spine as a result of all the years she’d spent sleeping in a chair, Miss Woods would hobble through the streets of Cardigan on two sticks, always wearing a bright yellow PVC mac, a red pixie hood and bright red socks.  Her face was caked in thick white powder and her lips were painted scarlet.

“Yes, there were a lot of shopkeepers in town who didn’t think highly of her as a result of the money that she owed them, but then, conversely, many people admired her stoicism and the fact that despite all the adversity she endured, she remained a proud and independent woman.

“I remember one afternoon we were doing some work in the castle grounds and we went up to ‘Kwik Chip’, next door to the castle, to get some fish and chips for lunch.  It was during the summer holidays and there was a long queue inside the shop, but suddenly we heard these clicks making their way down to the counter.  I knew immediately it was Miss Wood on her sticks, and she made her way to the front of the queue, poked the person who was in front in the ribs to push them back, and she said to the person who was serving, ‘I want sausage and chips’.  Needless to say, she got her own way.”

It was this over-riding doggedness that resulted in Barbara Woods’ repeated rejections of attempts to salvage her castle.

“Miss Woods could most certainly have got assistance, but the biggest stumbling block was the fact that if public money was spent, then there would have to be public control.  But she wasn’t willing to relinquish this.  Every time it looked as if the castle might be moving in a positive direction, either by CADW or by Ceredigion County Council, she would once again get obstructive.”

Deteriorating ill health eventually resulted in Miss Wood being admitted to the Brondesbury Lodge Nursing Home, Cardigan, in 1996, where she remained until her death in 2009.  She was buried in a pauper’s grave in Cardigan Cemetery.

Six years before her death, Miss Wood finally sold the castle to Ceredigion County Council for £500,000 and its restoration has been a driving force in the town’s subsequent revival.

“Miss Woods once told a journalist that it broke her heart to see the castle in the condition it was in during her time there,” concludes Glen Johnson.
“Obviously the castle has evolved considerably in the past 20 years, but there are times when I’m inside it, when I remember exactly how it once was.  I’ve no doubt that Miss Woods would be a bit sniffy about all these people walking around her home, but I’m certain that she’d appreciate all the attention that her home is now getting.

“There must have been times when she felt like all the rest of us, yearning to see the property that she cared for being saved for future generations.”

To celebrate the 40th anniversary of the launch of Cardigan Castle Volunteers, Glen Johnson will be hosting an afternoon of anecdotes and memories of Barbara Wood which takes place at Theatr Mwldan on April 12.