Tag: Co-operative Stores (Dowlais)

Merthyr Memories: The Last Days of Old Dowlais

Some of my fondest childhood memories are the frequent trips I would go on to Dowlais with my aunty.

This would have been in the 1970s when Dowlais was undergoing what was officially called ‘redevelopment’, but which most people would call total devastation. At the time, of course, I was too young to understand the full implications of what was going on – I was just too fascinated by the ‘tractors’ as I called them……I had a fascination with ‘tractors’, and I had quite a few Tonka toys of diggers, cranes etc. Little did I know then the havoc these were causing and the vast amount of history that was being casually swept away.

The ‘Redevelopment’ of Dowlais. The derelict shell of Lloyd’s Bank in Union Street in the 1970s. Photo courtesy of the Alan George Archive

My aunty, who had lived most of her life in Penydarren, had visited Dowlais just as much as she would have visited Merthyr when the former was in its hey-day. Dowlais, then, had everything – cinemas, banks, shops of every description – everything anyone would need for everyday life. By the 1970s however, most of these had gone, and only a few buildings and businesses held on for dear life as the bulldozers slowly worked their way up Union Street. Yet, my aunty would still do what she could in Dowlais.

I remember that we would catch the bus up to Dowlais – we’d go regularly as my aunty would go to ‘pay the coal’ in a business, if I remember correctly, in Church Row. We’d walk up past the Co-op, never the other side of the road…..I didn’t like walking past the steeple of St John’s Church – it frightened me!!! I remember the adverts in the window for various things, and also the posters advertising ‘Co-op stamps’.

Dowlais Co-op in the early 1900s. Photo courtesy of http://www.alangeorge.co.uk/index.htm

Sometimes, after ‘paying the coal’, we would go around the corner to see the then derelict Dowlais Stables and my aunty would tell me all about Josiah John Guest and the Ironworks and about Lady Charlotte opening a school there. Other times we would call into Dowlais Library for her to change her books, and she would chat with David Watkins the marvellous librarian there whilst I looked at the books in the ‘Children’s Library’.

We would also call into one or two of the few shops that were remaining. I particularly remembering going to the shop of Mr Segar’s – the watch and clock repairer in North Street, and be fascinated by all the different clocks around the place. Another shop we would always visit was Crynogwyn’s – the dressmaker in Union Street. This was simply because Crynogwyn or ‘Aunty Cryn’ was an ‘honorary Aunty’. My father, had worked with Cryn’s husband Jack on the railway for many years, and they were very close friends. Cryn was a tiny, gentle, very quietly spoken lady with jet-black hair, and she was one of the finest seamstresses in Dowlais.

Crynogwyn’s Shop in Union Street not long before it was demolished. Photo courtesy of the Alan George Archive

After we had finished all we had to do in Dowlais, we would catch the bus home from outside Ferrari’s Café. If I had been very good (and of course I always was), we would go into Ferrari’s and I would have a cup of hot chocolate as a special treat.

Ferrari’s Cafe in Dowlais. Photo courtesy of the Alan George Collection

These were simple things, but they still remain fresh in my memory. St John’s Church, Dowlais Stables and the Library are all still there, but everything else has gone – swept away in the name of progress. Redevelopment or vandalism? You decide.

Merthyr Memories: Memories of Dowlais – part 1

by “Sarnws”

If only I could sleep just for one night, in winter, in the front bedroom of the house which now stands where my grandfather’s did, in Church Row in Dowlais, nearly on the corner of Ivor Street, would I in that early morning reverie, half awake and half asleep, hear the frost hardened paving stones ringing with the footsteps of hundreds and hundreds of men making their way to the Ivor Works and the trains taking them over Dowlais Top to the mines and coke ovens beyond?

Are too, the ghosts of women scurrying from the Tip Station along Station  Road and Church Row, past the Bonevitch’s shop,  to Dowlais Market, with a basket of merchandise  in the crook of each elbow to be seen?

Dowlais Market in the 1960’s. Photo courtesy of http://www.alangeorge.co.uk/index.htm

In those days when times were hard, “Daddy Thorn”, as he was known to the local children would come out of retirement as a sugar puller, and make a walking stick of “rock” for a birthday present.  This fuelled our activities as roller skating was a popular pastime, and Church Row was surfaced and as smooth as silk.  I can now admit to stealing grease from the axle boxes of the goods wagons parked opposite the Stables by the market for my roller skate wheels, as the statute of limitations applies, hopefully.

You could buy spare roller skate wheels from Atkins the ironmonger down the hill from the Co-op, and I often went there to buy “carbide” for my grandfather’s flame lamp.

Dowlais Library was, still is I think, just by the site of the Co-op, and even though I did not appreciate it at the time, was told  later that the librarian was so addicted to snuff that every book was so scented.

Atkins Shop and Dowlais Library. Photo courtesy of http://www.alangeorge.co.uk/index.htm

I would go to the Co-op to fetch pipe tobacco for my grandfather, which came in a foil sealed tin.  I still remember the aroma as the foil was peeled back.  One of the staff on the provision counter was a  Mr. Sheen, always in immaculate whites.  To see him boning out a side of bacon was a demonstration of skill. In those days bacon was not laid out ready, but cut on demand.  If it ran out you would patiently wait and look on as the Provisions hand fetched and boned another side.

The Co-op in Dowlais. Photo courtesy of http://www.alangeorge.co.uk/index.htm

If the “American Cheese” came to an end the provision hand would appear embracing a barrel shaped cheese weighing  fifty-six pounds, and cut it up with the wire cheese cutter. Everyone waited, with no complaints.

At the end of Mary Ann Street there stood a bakery which in summer would be open to the world, where real bread was baked.

In Dowlais market the stall always doing a roaring trade was the faggots and peas stall.  Traditionally most people would add a sprinkling of vinegar, probably to cut the richness of the faggots.

One regular vendor was the man selling corn ointment, who, to demonstrate the effectiveness of his treatment would stamp his highly polished black boots on the flagstones.

I was told of one old lady, a self appointed arbiter of the quality of poultry sold in the market, who never bought a bird, but would go from stall to stall prodding the breasts of the chicken on show with a hatpin. She would then pronounce on the quality of the merchandise.

An older colleague could remember the matriarch of a rather rough and ready family who on pay day would take the husband’s pay, go down to the market,  and buy and don a new apron. She would then gather up the hem to form a shopping bag, and do the weekly shop .  When the family had consumed her purchases, they went hungry ‘till the next pay day.

If the term “Disposable Income” had been common parlance then it would have had no relevance for the majority who survived from pay day to pay day.

Dowlais in the 1930’s. Photo courtesy of http://www.alangeorge.co.uk/index.htm

To be continued…….