The following is a transcript of a conversation between Miss Evelyn Hopkins and Jane Havers which took place in 1977, whilst this isn't about my family, it gives a good insite into life at the turn of the century in the small village of Llanblethian and near by Cowbridge. I hope you find it interesting.

A CONVERSATION WITH MISS EVELYN HOPKINS

OF BROADWAY HOUSE, LLANBLETHIAN

1977

Jane. When were you born, Miss Hopkins?

Miss Hopkins.I was born on March 10th 1889, at Millfields, Cowbridge. Lovely little cottages, they were. Faced with spar, which used to glisten in the western sun.

Jane. And you came to Llanblethian ...

Miss H. I came to Llanblethian, yes, when I was ten years of age, in august, 1899. I remember it so well. I came to live with my aunt and uncle, William C. and Susie Norton.

Jane. Were there just your aunt and uncle in the house?

Miss H. Yes, they had no family, and they were young, my aunt was in her late twenties and my uncle in the very early thirties.

Jane. and they lived here in Broadway House?

Miss H. No. They lived in the cottage next door when they married, and they bought all the furniture which was in the house from a couple that were emigrating to America. I think their name was Watson, I can't be quite certain, but I still have a clock from those days and it's still working. They lived there for twelve years and then they bought this house and moved in, and we've been here ever since.

Jane. So, when you came here, it would have been to this house?

Miss H. Oh, yes.

Jane. And most of what you remember about Llanblethian, is from 1899 onwards.

Miss H. 1899 onwards, yes.

Jane. Your uncle had a business in Cowbridge, didn't he?

Miss H. He did: it must be over forty years. The entrance was a passageway between what is now Lloyds Bank and the Cleaning shop. In those days, Mr John David, the Auctioneer, had his business there, and he lived over and behind the premises. The entrance from that door-way led up a passage to a three-storey building. On the ground floor, my uncle kept some timber, but the top floors were his workshop. etc., and I know on the very top floor he stored a lot of timber. ..Oh, yes he was very happy there; he knew all that was going on Saw all the people practically every day; people around, business people: Mr Parsons, who kept a marvellous Grocer's shop next door (which is now Lloyds Bank) - Mr. Parsons was organist at the Wesleyan Chapel. He had a pipe organ at home; and he was a keen natural historian. - Mr. John David, adjoining, the other side; and then across the road, was the chemist, Mr. John Thomas the Druggist - known as the druggist; - and Mr. Dempster the grocer, next door to Mr. Thomas the druggist; Mr. Llewellyn, on the right, he was also a chemist; and there was an Ironmonger.

Jane. And you've mentioned tailors: there were many tailors in Cowbridge, weren't there.

Miss H. There were. A few doors higher up than Mr John David the auctioneer was Mr. S.D. Evans, the local draper (one of the three drapers locally), where you could purchase anything you wanted. He had seven tailors working for him - my uncles's father was one. Actually, there were four tailors in the town, and one was Mr Evans of Church Street who I think worked around, and he was also the conductor of the Chapel choir in the Baptist - always wore a silk hat on Sundays. (So did most of the gentlemen of the town; 'twas a recognised thing: you'd see them in their silk hats and frock coats). Then there was another tailor, Mr. Watkins, who still has relatives in the town; he employed five tailors.

Jane. What did you have to go to Cowbridge for? What sort of things did you get in Cowbridge that you couldn't get in Llanblethian?

Miss H. Oh, well now, Cowbridge was our general shopping place. We went to Cowbridge once a week. Every Friday, we did all our shopping in a big basket. Baskets were covered: baskets were ten to twelve inches long and they had two covers. We placed all our groceries in there. There were no coloured wrappings in those days, things were all packed as you bought them. Sugar, and the tea, was always packed.

Jane. So you bought them loose, and they were packed up?

Miss H. And they were packed up. The tea was contained in huge, green canisters with narrow necks, about that height.

Jane. Nearly three feet?

Miss H. Yes. They wern't quite that high; and then the little narrow neck was about that length, and a cover on the top. Well then, you'd choose the tea you wanted and Mr. Parsons or his assistant, know to us as Billy Mor, used to pack your tea, pack your sugar, or whatever you wanted. ... Our butcher? Oh, I shall have to think - three or four. One butcher I remember was Mr. Morgan. Their shop occupied the space which is now occupied by Midland Bank, and you had to ascend three or four steps. One side, the left-hand side, was a Postal Office, the right-hand side was the butcher's shop. And these were the grandparents of Mr. Gwyn Morgan.

Jane. ... who's there now?

Miss H. No, he's given up. Well now, you see, it was eventually pulled down and the Midland Bank was built there on it. Previous to that, the bank was next door - where Mr. Herbert Thomas' offices are - and it was Metropolitan Bank, managed by the late Mr. Robert Thomas, who was very well known, REALLY well known. Then whether it was taken over by the Midland I can't say, but originally, when I first remember, it was Metropolitan Bank.

Jane. Did you get your clothes made in Cowbridge?

Miss H. yes.

Jane. By the tailors?

Miss H. Oh, yes. My uncle had all his clothes made by Mr. Evans.

Jane. what about ladies' clothes? Did you make your own, or did you have them made?

Miss H. Oh, we used to make them. I used to make a tremendous lot of my clothes; but we used to have them made in Evans the draper's too, and they'd also make hats for you, because there was a workroom. There were five dressmakers and one milliner, and I can remember her name - Miss Closs Jones. She was from North Wales. And all your suits were made: we'd buy - my uncle would buy - material from the local factory in Llanblethian, known as Brethyn Llwyd - gingery colour. And have his sports coat made from that. But his suits were always made by Mr. S.D. Evans. But once a year, the first week in January, a dress-maker would come and stay with us at home the whole week. She used to make summer dresses for my aunt and myself - checked ones, often - and she also attended to the linen, etc. She was fetched in a horse-and-trap. (such visits were customary with other families too.)

Jane. There was a fair in Cowbridge, wasn't there?

Miss H. Oh, March Fair was a marvel - and so was September - but March Fair was a very well know affair. A very well known entertainment, really. (I think it was held on the same date as it is now - Tuesday before 25th.) But there was a really good entertainment fair, (although sometimes it was a bad year). The last one I remember was in the meadow adjoining the Cemetery. Just below the Cemetery. And Freeman's were there and they had what we called "ship on land" (or "Ship on Sea" - I've forgotten). but anyway, there were ships going round. I can very well remember people coming - everyone, the high to the low. And Studt, John Studt, a very fine, well-built man: and they had a gorgeous organ in their roundabout...At other times, there was sometimes a one-man band with a dancing bear. He used to set up at the corner of Aberthin Road.

Jane. Now. coming on to Llanblethian: what about the big houses at that time:

Miss H. Oh, there were a few big houses. There was Llanblethian House. Now, let me see, the first people ... oh, the Nicholl's were the first I remember. They lived in Llanblethian House. They occupied the whole of it. And I remember the daughters: they were very tall, to my eyes as a small child, but very dark. I can remember they had black hair, very black hair. And their mother. Whether they were the Nicholl's of Ham, I just can't recall, but I expect they would be. That family. Let me see, now... oh, on the corner, not Belgrave - opposite - at Kingscombe, he was a Naval man, Lieutenant Royds. St. Quintin's, my uncle said, housed a family of Lewises. They were a very well known family. I have a feeling Mr. William Lewis was in the Bank, but I'm not quite certain. He had a son, Titus, who was a Commander in the Navy: and their garden came right down to my uncle's back garden, back of Millfield Terrace. I've heard my uncle say, many times, that this son of theirs brought a parrot home and they couldn't get it to talk. They were going for a holiday, and they asked my uncle's mother, who was a lovely lady, if she would look after him. But, what-ever she did, not to give him any meat. Well, in those days, the row of broad beans was in the front garden. (actually, there was a very little patch of ground at the back of the house.) well, they had the parrot, and on fine days my uncle's mother used to tie him out on the row of beans - to the sticks of the row of beans. well, her husband's name was william, so my uncle's mother used to call, to her husband, "William! willy!". By the time the parrot was ready to go home, the parrot was saying, "William! William!" So the Lewises said, "How did you do it?" They never told them, but they used to give him a bone: This was some -thing they were charged not to do, not to give him meat or a bone: but they gave him a bone, and he was talking ever after. Then, in the Great House, were Thomases, and I think they were the de Burgn Thomases but I don't remember. But, since that, there have been farmers and butchers and quite a number of other people there. In my day, there were butchers and railway drivers living there: a railway driver named Durston and Mr. Bob Morgan, the butcher, lived there for a time. In Brynhyfryd were a family of Morrises. Mr. Morris, George Morris, was the surveyor of Cowbridge and Llanbelthian. His wife, (she was a Miss Lace), belonged to a family of Laces from around, and there were two daughters, Betty and Nancy. Two strikingly good-looking girls who, during the 1914 war, worked at the hospital at Beaupre. (In those days, it was turned over by the Bassetts and was a hospital.) Well, when those children were small, they had a black nanny, Miss Thompson. Lovely lady, I remember: I can see her now - good-looking. She was from Jamaica, and every house in the village was open to her. No such thing as apartheid in those days.

Jane. She would have been about the first coloured person ever to have lived in the village, I suppose?

Miss H. Yes; I don't remember any others; she was the only one. But she was REALLY well-kempt. Everybody loved her. Well, she was the nurse to these two girlies, and I think I'm right in saying she'd been with the Lace family, Mrs. Morris' family, before that. But what happened afterwards, I can't say.

Jane. You don't know how she came to this country?

Miss H. No., I don't. well, then the Morrises left Brynhyfryd and they lived around a lot. They lived at one time in St. Quintin's; but I think the last residence that I remember them in was Great House. The two girls died, and I think their stone is in the churchyard, all broken down, which saddened me much when I saw it...

Jane. There was also Hill House, wasn't there?

Miss H. Hill House? Oh, yes. They were Thomases and they were also farmers.

Jane. Then there was the Dower House behind that ...?

Miss H. There was The Cross, of course, I'd forgotten that. The first people I remember there were the Dunn family. The father, Mr Frederick Dunn, was a mining engineer in the Rhondda and he had four sons. Three of them went in for engineering, one of them went in for law (Jack, I think). They were all killed in the First world war. We used to see them walking to catch the seven o'clock train in the morning.

Jane. From Cowbridge?

Miss H. Yes... And one of the boys was drowned - Tom. They were all tall, good-looking boys, and one was drowned bathing. I think it was somewhere round Caerleon, during the war. And there was one daughter. I think she was the eldest. But they made a marvellous cricket team, and she used to play cricket with them. .. There's one brother alive now, I'm sorry: the youngest, Guy. The last I heard of him, he was down Exeter way, and he had a private school. But, anyhow, the sister died, not so many years ago, living in Red House, Pentre Meyrick. Mrs. Dunn lived to quite an age; a pretty lady, she was, too. Then there were the Bassetts, of course. Thurston Bassett of Crossways, and also Thurston Bassett of Beaupre. The Bassetts of Crossways used to attend Llanblethian church. and every Christmas, Mr. Bassett of Crossways would bring around a wagon and distribute a joint of meat to nearly every house. He had two daughters: the elder one married the Hon. F.C. Morgan, and their son became Lord Tredegar. And at Marlborough Grange were the Entwistles - Captain Entwistle, but I don't remember whether he was RN or Army.

Jane. What about the goods and services you could get in the village, like bread from the bakehouse...?

Miss H. The bakehouse was occupied by Mr, John Thomas who had a big family. He always baked at the back of the house. The two bakers, Mr. John Thomas and the Spencers, the mill, always delivered bread in open carts.

Jane. Horse-drawn?

Miss H. Horse-drawn carts. And they were open. If 'twas wet, they threw a clean sack over them. But Johnny the bakehouse, as he was known, always wore a bowler hat when he was doing the baking. And you took your bag to the bakehouse, or, usually, we brought it to the mill - it was freshly-ground flour there, you see - and 'twas a thick, thick, calico bag and we used to buy twenty pounds of flour at a time.

Jane. And then you baked your own bread?

Miss H. No. Occasionally, not often. We bought flour for pastry-making, etc.

Jane. You usually got the flour from the mill?

Miss H. We got the flour from the mill. It was ground there, because the farmers used to bring all the cereals in to be ground at the mill. Mr Spencer came from Llancarfan way, and he had two sons, Llewellyn and Gilliat; but Llewellyn and the father did most of the baking, most of the grinding, or whatever was done. And they used to bake one loaf, what they called a "Shilling Loaf". Twas a huge thing: I think it must have been about four pounds.

Jane. Did it cost a shilling?

Miss H. It cost a shilling, and it was the biggest loaf they baked. But they had beautiful bread, both of them, and Mr. Thomas. But it was Llewwllyn Spencer who delivered the bread. They used to go round Llancarfan, etc. Mr. Thomas, he had three daughters and a son; Ted, Morrie, Edie (Edith) was the eldest) and Mabel who was the middle one; but Edie delivered the bread for the country. She used to deliver around Penllyn. I know that. So that's how we used to get our bread. The river in those days used to come up within just a width of the road from the bake-house, and ofttimes the river would overflow and flow right into the flour shop which was a little building adjoining. The Spencers were better off: they had a step. The river couldn't overflow into their place. Spencers was harder-baked bread, Johnny the bakehouse was a whiter loaf, we preferred the Spencer loaf.

Jane. And did you see the farmers taking the grain in after the harvest to the mill?

Miss H. Oh, yes. Barley and oats and wheat, of course. And you would see, if you went in there at the right time you would see the thing grinding, and see the flour or oatmeal or barley, whichever it happened to be, coming down this chute into a big wooden trough just below. Oh, yes. But, you see, first of all, hauling up the sacks with a pulley up to the top floor. They've left the top floor, I believe. Oh, and with the Spencers, their bakehouse was across the road, where Mrs, Stone now has her house. That was the bakehouse; it was a big, corrugated affair, whereas the Thomas' bakehouse was part of their house. But anyhow, bread was the only thing that we had in the village. We thought nothing of going to Cowbridge to buy the usual commodities.

Jane. The only other thing that was made in the village, then, was the cloth at the woollen factory?

Miss H. At the woollen factory. But of course, there was a mason at hand, there was carpenter at hand, there was a ...

Jane. Blacksmith?

Miss H. There wasn't a blacksmith in the village. There were a couple of masons, and the slaters were in Cowbridge. so these people were around. One would just call to see them. And there were some Gypsies called Organ, father and daughter. They owned a farm at Barry, but they used to travel as well. I used to read their letters for them, I remember. ... There used to be tinkers, too - scissors-grinders. Let me see, now: what else? @cause, you had your milk and some had cows. We had our cows. We farmed the land before there was a house built. We farmed this land - twenty acres - and we paid £3 an acre plus rates.

Jane. You mean that land over the road?

Miss H. Yes. We kept our cows and we kept pigs too, there.

Jane. Most of the farming around here would have been mixed, then, would it? There was some grain grown ...

Miss H. Yes.

Jane. And some dairying ...

Miss H. Yes. There was very little grain grown in the immediate village, it would be coming in from surrounding villages where there was no mill to grind it. No, the immediate land was used for mixed dairying, and most people who had a few acres had a cow. Well, we had our own cows.

Jane. Then it was common for most people who had, perhaps, some other sort of business, also to have a small holding and to produce their own milk and ...

Miss H. Yes, oh yes. The smallholding was a sideline, not the principal income, just a sideline. And poultry, of course, practically everyone kept poultry and pigs. We kept pigs, and I always remember there was a crabtree down at the bottom, right inside the hedge near the river; and immediately you let the pigs out, they would bolt for this crabtree, for the apples. Oh, one thing I must mention, is Mr, Usher. A dear gentleman, who lived at the bottom house. I don't know what it was called then, but it was known as Mr. Usher's. I think it hadn't a name. He had been with hounds, I think, but his wife died and he was living alone.

Jane. At the bottom of this hill?

Miss H. At the bottom of this hill. He was churchwarden for a number of years.

Jane. would that be the house on the left?

Miss H. Yes, that's the house. And he owned fields, or a couple of fields, on top of Llanned. (Llanned, you know, is that road leading up to Llanmihangel.)well now, he bequeathed those fields to the church. Mr. Usher was a dear old gentleman, he really was. Everything was "Mr. Usher's" then; "by Mr. Usher's" or "go to Mr. Usher's" or "near Mr. Usher's": and he owned part of this ground or, at least, I was always under that impression - or he rented. Part of this ground has been taken over now in front of these houses down below, It was a long, narrow strip, the whole length from the hedge - boundary hedge of this house, of these two houses - to the bottom of the road, and it would be about fifteen feet wide. He used to grow mangolds on it, and he had to get a little ladder to get over the hedge to gain entrance.

Jane. What about life at home - how did that differ from today? What sort of tasks did you have that we don't have to do nowadays?

Miss H. Well, one thing was blackleading the grate. Nearly all our grates and stoves were blackleaded, and if you allowed them to be neglected, well, then you couldn't use them, they would get rusty. But once they were blackleaded they were good to look at, and they were handsome pieces of ironwork - of blacksmith's art, really. Some of them were beautiful. Well then, we always had to clean the grate and light a fire first in the morning before we could boil a kettle. There were no electric boilers, electric cookers, electric kettles or anything of that sort. And then one would have one's breakfast, cooked or something like that; but you had to cook over an open fire.

Jane. And then your uncle would go to work?

Miss H. My uncle would go to work. I remember at one time he was working at Llantwit Major. He had to be there at six o'clock in the morning (it must have been during the summertime), work all day - no teabreaks, as today - leave at five and then walk home. Top wages sixpence per hour. But he took our retriever dog with him, Venus II, to train her, and he trained her to retrieve on his way home every night; and that happened for six months.

Jane. What sort of work was he doing at Llantwit Magor?

Miss H. Carpentry. ... Of course, there was always a sort of rivalry between Cowbridge and Llantwit Major. They were never the best of friends; but I heard my uncle say, so many times, that he got on splendidly with some of them and was very happy with them. Well, we had to get up very early, at least my aunt did, get up very early, when he went out at six or half-past. He was a good walker because he was ..., well, an able man. I don't think there was a lot of actual building going on generally at that time, but there was much re-roofing of thatch with slate. Well then, in the evenings, oh, we had lovely evenings together. My aunt would be sewing, and my uncle would get out an exercise book and a dictionary, and he would call out certain words and I'd write them in the exercise book. Or else we'd be reading. We'd be reading Dickens or any other books. Perhaps one would read one night and another would read another night, and a third would read another night. They were lovely evenings. All through the winter this happened.

Jane. What about things like washing? Did you have a wash-day once a week?

Miss H. Oh, yes. Every Monday. And there was a dear lady, Mrs. Haig, who lived down the road here, who came to us for thirty years; and her granddaughter now lives in Aberthin - Katie Hopkins. Yes, she was a lovely lady, and she'd come. Her hat would be a man's cap, a fawn one, I remember, and she always wore what we called a "turnover". It's a welsh woollen shawl, not a very big one, and it would be halved three- corner-ways, and that would be put over her shoulders; and she would have a clean, canvas apron, as clean as could be - it would be scoured, sort of thing - and her face shone. It did - it really shone! She had a beautiful complexion. And she loved her bottle of stout on a Saturday night. She always did our washing, I can remember, for thirty years.

Jane. Was it all boiled in a copper?

Miss H. Yes, in a copper, we used to light the fire - I think I used to light the fire - ready for her by the time she came, and she'd be here until four o'clock.

Jane. What about ironing?

Miss H. Oh, no, my aunt and I did the ironing. But if there were any odd jobs during the week, Mrs. Haig would come up and help out. Help out with the cleaning or something like that. But she always joined us in our meals. And when my uncle came home, of course, then we'd have another meal. As I said, we bought our bread from the baker. Well then the flour ... I was thinking, after, we never bought flour in the shop. I can never remember us buying any flour in the shop. No, 'twas the miller's and the baker when they were in business.

Jane. So, how often did you bake?

Miss H. Oh, once a week - most regularly. My aunt would have a lot of baking because my uncle never took out meat to eat. It was always a doubled turnover, what we called a jam turnover, baked in the Dutch oven, and that was in front of a fire. The Dutch oven had an oval or half-round hood or bonnet - sometimes absolutely straight, but our was half-circular - which you turned over from one side to the other; and part-way in, but not much in, was a bar with a row of hooks, on which we used to hang bacon, and then you could break the eggs into the lower pan. This Dutch oven was a most useful piece of equipment because it made all sorts of lovely cakes, and it used to make big buttermilk cakes to a T. Buttermilk cake was a cake made in the whole of the pan, mixed rather moist with buttermilk, (because we had our cows). about and inch thick, and where there was cream, or if you went to a farmhouse, you would get these cakes mixed with cream, solely with cream. Saturday was always our baking day, with a lot of "round cakes", as we knew them, not Welsh cakes as they're known today. Always "round cakes". Occasionally with a bakestone cake, the size of the bakestone; and of course you had to be careful when you turned it over that it didn't break. That was our baking, and 'twas once a week. But then, we cooked our meat in the oven beside the fire - coal fire, always - and it was baked in the ordinary tin in the oven. Oh, and tarts we baked in the oven beside the fire; fruit tarts or other tarts or pies were baked in the oven.

Jane. Did you have a special Sunday lunch?

Miss H. Oh yes, always, Always.

Jane. That would have been the big meal of the week, would it?

Miss H. Yes, apart from bacon; because we killed two pigs every year, one and a half of which we kept, salted up. And we had bacon three or four times a week - bacon or ham or something. Yes, rarely fresh meat during the week, but there was always a good meal on Sunday. Well, there was a good meal every day, actually; and one thing I can remember which has come to my mind, is about the veal at Easter. We always had veal at Easter. Chump end of the loin, and it was either ninepence or tenpence per pound. It was a standing order with the butcher, this veal on Easter Sunday. Oh yes, we had good meals every day because, you see, we had the lovely bacon, our own flitches and ham, hanging up.

Jane. And what about vegetables? Did you grow your own?

Miss H. Oh, grow our own. Everything. Because we had a garden. Fifty-odd rows of potatoes every year.

Jane. Who did the garden and the work on the smallholding? Was it your aunt while uncle was away at work?

Miss H. No, she did very little in the garden. There was always a man coming in; there were always men about the village. There was a dear old man here, great-uncle of Gwylym Punter, "Old Ned" he was called. He was with us for years doing odd jobs.

Jane. So, who milked the cows?

Miss H. Auntie and I, we did that. We had six, and my aunt did all the dairy work and cheesemaking.

Jane. What sort of cheese did you make? Did it have a name?

Miss H. It would be now Caerphilly. And it was good cheese - you knew good cheese if, in the wintertime, the rind became very pitted; then you knew that was good quality. Well then, you would make a certain amount in the summer to last the winter.

Jane. Because the milk wasn't so good in the winter?

Miss H. No, and you could'nt afford it. There was a certain quantity and probably there were calves to feed, so we always used to make sufficient cheese in the summer to last the winter. And the butter ... Did we pot the butter? No, I don't think we potted the butter ... I can't recall whether we did or not. We had extra quantity for the winter. But I remember when 'twas very hot and the butter was too soft to make, ( we had a churn in the next room, you see), we used to put it in a zinc bucket and put it in the cistern.

Jane. You had a cistern collecting rainwater, did you?

Miss H. Yes; it's underneath the whole of the backyard now. So when the butter was much too soft to work, my aunt would put it in this bucket, cover it with a clean cloth, and put it down the cistern so that, about halfway buried in the water, by the morning it would be beautifully hard and workable.

Jane. You've mentioned this cistern before - you used to whitewash it, didn;t you?

Miss H. Yes, always whitewashed. It's beautifully painted out, like a beautiful wall. I've been down it a couple of times, my aunt's been down a few times, my uncle was too big - couldn't get down the manhole cover; We've had tea there ...

Jane. Because it was cool?

Miss H. No, just for fun. We had to clean it out, whitewash it every year, and had tea down there; and, of course, it was whitewashed ot make sure the water was pure. That was the only way. And it was our main source of drinking water and used for everything, and never known to be dry.

Jane. And it all came from rainwater collected from the roof?

Miss H. From the roof. I've discontinued the front part of the roof and only keep the water from the rear part now.

Jane. What about lighting? How did you light the house?

Miss H. Oh, candles and lamps, paraffin lamps. We had three paraffin lamps, I remember; the wicks had to be trimmed, and that was a business, execpt that the wick was straight across with a little point cut off the ends, snitched - so. And them candles, candles to go to bed, always. A lamp for heating in the winter in my room.

Jane. You had no fires at all upstairs?

Miss H. We had fires all through the winter upstairs. Grates in each room. And my aunt had a fire in her bedroom always, as far back as I can remember. From November until April.

Jane. And was the coal local?

Miss H. No; we used to buy it by the ten ton truck, and it was stacked in the backyard. It was by the ten ton truck from the colliery: Wyndham Colliery, Nantymoel. Every two years it would come to Cowbridge station and then they had to get someone to haul it - horse and cart. It tipped every cartload outside the bottom gate and men would be hauling it in with wheelbarrows and buckets. It used to be level with the top wall. By the time it finished, we had to get a small ladder to get to the top; but it was grand! That was our heating. Well, eventually, when primus lamps came in, we had a primus stove. A primus stove and two lamps, I can remember. And a cooker, etc., etc. And we used that in the summer and did away with fires.

Jane. What about Church and Chapel?

Miss H. There were three chapels in Cowbridge. The Wesleyan, which was up the east end, was a beautiful chapel, which my uncle helped to build, and he did all the woodwork, including making the pulpit and all the seats. The seats were pitch-pine, and I think the pulpit was pitch-pine. They used to change their Minister every three years. I think that chapel hadn't a great membership. Well, then there was The Limes, the Calvinistic Methodist, which was a wonderful chapel and which marked among its members some of the best-known people in Cowbridge. 'Twas there we were brought up on tonic sol-fa. Then there was the Baptist chapel at the other end, the west end. They had a welsh service - I believe it was once a month, in the morning. In those days, you were baptised, made a member, by immersion, the Baptistry being right under the pulpit. Then there was the church. Unless you were in your seat by quarter to six in the evening, you couldn't get a seat ...

Jane. At the church?

Miss H. At the church. And Cowbridge church, by the way, is a large church. All the men, the middle-aged men and the elderly, wore silk hats and frock coats. That was part of their Sunday attire.

Jane. And you said once that, in the chapel, the men sat one side and the women the other?

Miss H. In Llanblethian, the Baptist denomination built a little schoolroom, the Sunday School, in which they conducted prayer meetings of an evening. The men sat one side and the women the other. I can remember that very well. And all the various tea parties, etc. were held in that room.

Jane. And the Minister?

Miss H. And the Minister of that Chapel, the late Mr. Owen Jones, was a saint. He was grandfather to Mrs. Envis Brown; and he really was a saint. My people were members of the Baptist chapel. Although my aunt was a churchwomen, she would not be divided with her husband, so then, when he was going to chapel she went with him. But, during the time that I was away, from 1914 to nearly 1920, there was unpleasantness in the chapel and, rather than become involved, my people left and joined Cowbridge church. So, when I came home, they were church people. It was one of the vicars - I think one called Roberts - who had one of the first cars. It was known as "the mustard pot", because it was yellow. I remember it often had to be pushed by the Vicar or his wife!

JANE HAVERS

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