Introduction
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INTRODUCTION Thomastown was named after Meyler Thomas, the man who opened the colliery in Coedely. The street where my family occupied number 100 for many years was named Meyler Street after him. Thomastown consisted of a handful of streets built for the miners who would work in Coedely colliery. Extending from Meyler Street towards the colliery was another street called Pembroke Street, sometimes called Tynycoed. I lived on this street too, for about two years before being called up to join the army in 1940. Thomastown had a very small village centre: the Ely Hotel (now Fagins), the Co-op store, the Post Office and Webber’s bakery. Near the spot where the Music Centre stands Flook had a store; and a couple of doors down from where Richard Williams lived there was a barber shop. Next to the barber shop was a cobbler shop run by Shep- herd. At one time the barber shop was run by Jim “Penwen”, another good singer, and another member of the Williams family. Jim had a good voice; also his son, John, and his daughter, Eirwyn. Of course there were several small stores both in Meyler Street and Pembroke Street, but they were really dwelling places with small store fronts. The small street leading up to Meyler Street from the Ely was called Elizabeth Street named after Meyler Thomas’s wife. A small extension of the village centre ran along the main road. This included the Primitive Methodist Church, and opposite it the Thomastown Social Club. There was also a Fish and Chip shop and a Hellings betting shop. Next up from the Thomastown Social Club on Francis Street was a half dozen houses overlooking the Ely River. Between Francis Street and Meyler Street in my youth, there was a long stretch of waste ground where we played. Travelling fairs also set up their rides there. In the early fif- ties a street of wooden semi-detached houses was built there called the Swedish houses. This development continued along the road to Newton where concrete slabs were used to face the houses. Newton itself was part of Thomastown which ended at the old stone railway bridge now replaced by one designed to carry a motorway. 1 Photo : Brian Lewis Thomastown Meyler Street Francis Street Railway Pembroke Street (Tynycoed) Black Path to Coedely Colliery Following are some sketches of people that gave Thomastown its life and identity. ====================== ALLEN: A Runner Fred Allen was a tall, lean, loose-limbed man. He kept a garden just beyond Streeter’s Piggery on the right hand side after crossing the bridge before going up the mountain. He was known in his youth as a great runner who could run like the wind. In my mem- ory I see him in mid-summer carrying a pail to his garden often with Idris Evans (Evans “Garth Hall”) who kept a garden close by. When Fred came home the pail was full of the most amazing runner beans. I suppose the soil along the river was the most fertile in the area, but I suspect that pig manure from Streeter’s Piggery next door helped a lot; and of course, just up the mountain from his garden there were lots of sheep grazing. Sheep droppings also make good manure if handled properly. Surrounding his garden and along the river there was also a plentiful supply of saplings he could cut as bean poles. The secret to his success though was likely the small brook, the Ilid. Although there was usually plenty of rain in the spring and summer there was an occasional dry spell. While other gardeners were praying for rain, Fred was watering his garden with pails of water from the brook. That pail he carried had many uses. Sketch: Brian Lewis Fred was famous as a runner but I remember him best for his pail and his runner beans. *************** Herbert Allen was Fred Allen’s brother. He was in the army and when he came out he married Walt Tarling’s daughter, Barbara. He was even taller than his brother and very well built. Gerald Tarling almost worshipped his new uncle and couldn’t get enough of the stories Uncle Herb told him. Whenever anything was up for discussion Gerald would voice his opinions with great confidence and finish the sentence with, “Herbert said.” Uncle Herbert was the authority on everything. He seemed to know everything, had seen everything and done everything. From these modest beginnings Her- bert soon became a folk hero among the young boys. One anecdote has him being awarded a medal for brav- ery. Herbert tore off his shirt and de- manded the medal be pinned directly through his flesh. Another story has Herbert going to the armourer to have a longer bayonet made. He wanted one long enough to hold at least two men on it. There were many stories like this which filled young boys with a sense of daring and adventure. He was one of the hardest working men in Thomas- town. He worked on the coal face and moved many tons of coal on every shift. After work he was in his garden. Like his brother. Fred, Herbert was a good gardener. Me and Sylvia were members of the local gardening club for many years. Before he passed away Herb was the chair- man of the club. He never grew monster runner beans like his brother, but he was a modest and efficient chairman who kept the Allen gardening tradition (and the Garden- ing Club) alive. 3 BANWELL: The Boxer Gerald Banwell, the boxer, lived on Francis Street. From an early age Cyril, his father encouraged him as much as he could to become a professional boxer. On one occa- sion when Gerald was around ten, his father fixed up one of his flatbed trucks to enter a parade through Thomastown. On the truck was a boxing ring. Gerald and Allan Phipps squared off inside it and Thomastown was treated to a spirited boxing match the whole length of the parade route. Boxing fans will recall that one of the greatest boxers who had ever lived, Sugar Ray Robinson lost his world title to an Englishman, Randy Turpin. who was also black. Both boys had been smeared with blackening to honour the champions. Gerald never married and lived a reckless life. I know a lot about him since Graham for many years was his friend and travelled with him a lot. Gerald or Banji, as everyone called him was taken under the wing of Eddie Thomas who ran a boxing club and was a boxing promoter. Like Eddie, who’d been a British Champion, Gerald was a welter- weight. There were many good British boxers in that weight class in the sixties and Banji was in the top ten. Unfortunately he lacked discipline, was never fit enough and learned that raw talent was not enough for success. Graham, my youngest son could likely write a book about the ex- ploits of Banji. When Graham broke away from him and de- cided to settle down, me and Syl- via heaved a sigh of relief. Every time he went on the road to a boxing venue with Banji we thought it could be his last. Banji liked to drive on the wrong side of the road occasionally, not a good idea, drunk or sober. Banji was an active member of the Thomastown Social Club and spent a lot of time and money there. Eventually in poor physi- cal shape and completely blind he spent his final days in hospital. At his funeral hundreds showed up to show their respect. He was a rogue, but Thomastown loved its rogues. He was one of Thomastown’s colourful characters. On reflection being with Banji all those years gave Graham a deep insight into the hu- man spirit. He’s well schooled but the time with Banji made him wise to the ways of the world. =============================== THE BESSANTS: Chapel People Across the street from our house on Meyler Street were the Bessants. Tom, a carpen- ter was the mainstay of the Primitive Methodist Chapel on Francis Street opposite the Social Club. We called him “Flying Tom” at work because he always said “flying” this or “flying” that when he was upset. In other words he used “flying” as a substitute for a swear word since Tom never used foul language. His son, Leighton was a very good boy soprano and when he was scheduled to sing on the radio, everyone at the top end of Meyler Street was alerted. Up the street a few doors lived Tom’s mother, Granny Bessant. Many considered her to be the real soul of the Primitive Methodist church. She kept ducks, chickens and geese at the end of the street and a foster child, Arthur Applegate, looked after the ani- mals and did chores around the house. Her three daughters lived at home for a long time. Many people speculated that one look at Granny Bessant was enough to send potential suitors scurrying away. She was a forbidding character. Some believed she did what she could to keep her girls away from men. The oldest daughter Dolly courted a neighbour of ours, Dilwyn Llewelyn for many years but it was a very strange courtship. Dolly would wait until her mother was asleep then she would rendezvous with Dilwyn and walk in the darkness up Llanilid Lane. She must have been around forty years of age—but she was almost completely under the control of Granny Bessant. This is exactly how the Primitive Methodist Chapel was run, too.