Romantic friendship: The lives of the Ladies of Llangollen
The Ladies of Llangollen, two aristocrats who fled their lives in Ireland to live as companions in Wales together, or a love story? Amelia Reynolds uncovers their lives.
‘Historians will say they were good friends.’’ The phrase has become somewhat of a joke on social media platforms like TikTok surrounding the topic of LGBTQ+ histories and until recently, this was true. There has been a reluctance to accept evidence of queer relationships, leaving them shrouded in mystery and hidden in the privacy of letters and diary entries.
But the Ladies of Llangollen were not characters in ghost story or a Welsh folk tale. They were two, very much real, aristocrats who fled their lives in Ireland to be together.
Love letters, men’s clothes and a midnight escape
Sarah Ponsonby and Eleanor Butler met in 1768. Both members of Irish aristocratic families, they were introduced when Eleanor was asked to look after Sarah at a boarding school in Kilkenny, Ireland. What began as a mentor relationship grew into a bond that would endure familial ridicule and last a lifetime.
The ladies spent 50 years together in constant companionship. Contemporary accounts of the ladies often referred to them as having a “perfect friendship”, LGBTQ+ historian Norena Shopland tells Sextras.
Shopland, whose work surrounds the histories of queer and trans people in Wales, acknowledges the ladies’ significance in queer history.
“They would spend as much time together as possible,” says Shopland. Although this wasn’t something entirely unusual for the time, it was clear that their companionship transcended social norms.
After leaving school, the two kept in touch with a constant stream of letters, yearning to be in each other's company again.
A decade after their initial meeting, Sarah and Eleanor began to hatch their escape plan. “They decided they wanted to live together so they left in April 1778, but as this was not the way women were expected to behave, they were chased, caught and returned home,” says Shopland.
Their escape attempt was nothing short of dramatic. Leaving under the cover of night in March 1778 –dressed in men’s clothes, armed with a pet dog and a pistol –the ladies set out, motivated by their desire to build a life together somewhere new.
Read more: A (brief) history of LGBTQ+ law in the UK
They arrived at the docks in Waterford, the freedom they wanted so badly almost within reach, propelled by their desperation to live together, they were discovered by their families and brought back to their respective homes. Heartbroken and mourning the idyllic life they had come so close to reaching.
Some historians have conflicting theories for the motive for the ladies' departure from their aristocratic lives in Ireland. Shopland explains “Many biographies of the Ladies claim they left to escape enforced marriages but this is not true, they left because they wanted to be together”.
Their separation wasn't destined to last long though, eventually, realising they could not keep Eleanor and Sarah apart from one another, the families agreed to let the women go and allowed them to set out to their new lives in the valleys of north Wales.
“Once in Wales, they travelled up the country until they reached Llangollen, rented a cottage and decided to remain, making them those rare people who are identified with a place name,” said Shopland. With that, the ladies of Llangollen were born.
Their lives together were a picture of tranquillity, spending endless days reading to one another, writing and roaming the gardens of their home, Plas Newydd. Eleanor left extensive diaries detailing their day to day lives, with one entry reading:
“Up at Seven. Dark Morning, all the Mountains enveloped in mist. Thick Rain. A fire in the Library, delightfully comfortable, Breakfasted at half past Eight. From nine 'till one writing. My Beloved drawing Pembroke Castle – from one to three read to her – after dinner Went hastily around the gardens. Rain'd without interruption the entire day – from Four 'till Ten reading to my Sally – She drawing – from ten 'till Eleven Sat over the Fire Conversing with My beloved. A Silent, happy Day.”
–Eleanor Butler’s diary, The British Museum
The ladies gained a contemporary status of fame, welcoming visits from other notable figures of the time. Anne Lister, a diarist widely considered to be the “first modern lesbian” developed an interest in the ladies and visited them at their home in 1822.
During her stay, she sent letters to her lover, Mariana Lawton, questioning the nature of the ladies' relationship, writing, “I cannot help thinking that surely it was not platonic.”
Reading queer histories
Although we may look back at the companionship between Sarah and Eleanor, and assume their connection was a romantic one, Shopland acknowledges the complexity of labelling the sexual identities of historical figures.
“There were rumours they were Sapphists… and we now accept they are people we might today regard as lesbians,” she reflects.
“We have to say 'might' as we cannot inflict identities on those not here to speak for themselves, so we must be careful with words we use.”
The ladies had what many of their contemporaries regarded as a ‘romantic’ or ‘perfect’ friendship which Shopland explains was a “standard explanation” for same-sex relationships that went against the societal norm.
She goes on to say that, “the word romantic did not have the same meaning as today; it was more akin to heroic”. The ladies were regarded as almost having an air of purity as they turned away from marriage and child bearing.
This distinction makes it difficult for historians trying to distinguish between those who were living as companions and those who were living together as lovers, Shopland describes. “In perfect [or] romantic friendships you will find some gift giving but often not as extensively as gifts people give each other when in love…they, and those around them, would refer to the individuals in 'couple speak'.” This included shared pronouns to describe their house or belongings, for example.
There are some identifiers, though, that historians can look out for when examining these relationships, Shopland points out. “Romantic friends rarely lived together and did not usually leave their estates to one person,” allowing conclusions to be made about whether, in a modern context, these individuals may be considered gay.”
Reading queer histories can be incredibly challenging in practice, it seems, as this often involves uncovering the hidden stories of those whose true identities were forced into hiding. “For men, homosexuality was for most of history a criminal act, and even after the death penalty was removed men could still be threatened by years in prison in harsh conditions,” says Shopland. “Consequently, many did not put anything down in writing that could be used against them.”
Many physical records were destroyed or just never existed at all, leaving historians with an overwhelming lack of resources.
The situation with gay women was no different, although lesbianism has never technically been illegal, women were faced with ostracisation if the truth about their sexuality was exposed.
“All these things, and others, leave the historian having to learn to read between lines, and rely on what others say about people we're studying,” says Shopland.
Dealing with erasure and correcting the mistakes of previous biographers can also leave a historian with more roadblocks than clear answers. “We often have to go back and correct many deliberate errors that have previously been forced into their biographies by those who wish to disguise the fact that the person is not heterosexual.”
Although we will never be able to explicitly say whether the ladies were lesbian couple, it’s clear the fifty years they spent together in Llangollen have left a legacy of love evident in the numerous artist impressions. One in particular springs to mind, a watercolour by H.Delamere, depicting Sarah and Eleanor, dressed in their house coats, walking the library, hand in hand.
Norena Shopland is a Welsh historian and author instrumental in the development of The Welsh County LGBTQ+ Timeline Collection, an initiative to bring attention to welsh queer narratives on a local level.
Norena’s work includes: ‘Forbidden Lives: Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender Stories from Wales’, ‘Women in Welsh Coal Mining: Tip Girls at Work in a Man's World’, and many other titles.