Memories of Mumbles in the 1840s
by Lewis Rees
Oystermouth, c1885 and shows The Dunns and The White Rose as well as Mumbles Hill and Southend
Mr. and Mrs. Lewis Rees lived in Thistleboon Cottage in 1918 and were celebrating their golden wedding anniversary on 26 April that year. In an interview with The Leader to honour the occasion, Mr. Rees recalled the Mumbles of 70 years before (1840s).
‘I was a month old when I went to live on Mumbles Hill and that was in ’46 (1846). Very small place it was then . . . the horse buses drove in from Swansea . . . Chaps names of Williams, Barder, and Rees had them and they stopped at the Ship and Castle, the Mermaid and the George. There was a bugler on one — John Williams . . . whose father kept the White Rose.
Mr. Dickson started the horse trams, which ran as far as Clement’s Lane and then he started to build on toward the Head. It was no good though and ‘fore long it all went. Aye, he abandoned it to the sea and the rails were lying along the beach for years.’
The Mumbles Road ‘used to be narrow and pretty . . . and hardly a house from the gaol along to Blackpill. No streets, no Victoria Park, no railways either; only great sandbanks rolling up like great billows of the sea.’
Mumbles Pier and Lighthouse, along with the new electric Mumbles Train, post 1929. 'The cutting' to Bracelet Bay is on the right.
Talking about the later pier and Bracelet Cutting, ‘the ratepayers did not want the railway, because they thought it would spoil the front and wanted the council to build the pier so the parish could benefit. They have spoiled the front at Southend by building houses and shops between the road and the sea.(Promenade Terrace etc) Cuts off the view . . . there were gardens right against the sea in those days as far as the Mermaid and a couple of houses with their front doors on the beach . . . I remember Studt used to bring his show down . . . we boys used to push his roundabout around and have rides for nothing . . . he had a horse to do it after, then a handle.
Billy Samuels used to put his boxing booth near the Antelope . . . There was more’n one row at the shows. I mind a chap who had the handcuffs put on one Good Friday, but he got away and a blacksmith sawed ‘em off up in Sketty.’
The Leader, April 1918.