Roath Harriers – Athletes and Hounds

Roath Court Harriers

There were two types of Roath Harriers, those with two leg and those with four. I believe both may have their origin in the very heart of Roath, at Roath Court, where Roath Manor House once stood  a location which has a history dating back over a thousand years. Roath Court is now the James Summers Funeralcare Home on the junction of Newport Road and Albany Road.

Roath Court in 1800s

Roath Court 1826 – from a sketch by unknown artist.

In the 1800s the Williams family lived at Roath Court and owned the Roath Court Estate.  If I told you some of their family names were Claude and Crofts you can start to get a picture of how far their estate spread in the Roath area.

In the 1870s the head of the Williams family at Roath Court was Charles Henry Williams who, as well as being a JP and Chairman of the Roath Board of Health, was keen on sport, a huntsman and maintained a pack of hounds called the Roath Harriers.  I’d always thought a harrier was a bird. Well it is, but it’s also a type of hunting hound.  Just goes to show my urban upbringing and general ignorance I guess.

Charles Henry Williams - Master of Roath Court Harriers

Charles Henry Williams – Master of Roath Court Harriers (photo credit: Look and Learn)

The pack may have been kept at Roath Court itself or more likely they were kept at Ty-y-Cwn or Ty’n Cwn (the dog’s house)  which was a thatched house, opposite where the Claude on Albany Road.  It was demolished in 1898 and later Albany Road Baptist Church built on the site.

Ty-y-cwn, the dogs house

Ty-y-cwn, the dogs house, on Albany Road. Thought to be where the lord of the manor’s hounds were kept. Apparently the building dated back to the sixteenth century. It was demolished in May 1898. Albany Road Baptist School can be seen on the right of the picture.

The painting of the Royal Oak pub by an unknown artist with horse and hounds outside is likely to be depicting the Roath Court Harriers.

A painting of the Royal Oak - CN&T FB

In 1878 we read in a newspaper report that a presentation was made to Charles Henry Williams for maintaining the Roath Court Harriers.  A year later there is mention in a Council report that the hounds have a case of hydrophobia amongst the pack.  That’s a term used for a fear of water, not debilitating in itself, but a symptom observed with dogs who have rabies. The pack seems to have survived because in a book published in 1903 there is reference to Charles Williams and his eighteen couples of twenty-inch cross-bred harriers.

Roath (Cardiff) Harriers

When I was searching the newspaper archives for Roath Harriers and Roath Court in the 1880s period something strange appeared.  The mention of horses and hounds disappears and references to Roath Harriers the athletics club start to appear.

Lynn_Davies_1964

Lynn Davies at the 1964 Olympics in Tokyo.

 

Roath Harriers was the first athletics club in Wales.  It was formed back in 1882. And a very successful club it was too.  Lynn Davies, the Olympic long-jump gold medal winner who leapt to victory in Tokyo in 1964 was a Roath Harrier at the time.  In 1966 he went on to win the European Championship in Budapest.

‘Lynn the Leap’ has long had a strong association with the area.  He attended Cyncoed Teacher Training College as a student and later as an employee as it went through various name changes over the years.  He pounded the streets of around Roath in his training regime. After all an all-round athlete and not just a long-jumper.

In 1938 Roath Harrier Jim Alford, from Llandough Street, Cathays, won the Mile Empire Games gold medal in Sydney, becoming the first athlete in a Welsh vest to strike gold in the Empire Games. After service with the RAF as a squadron leader during the Second World War, Jim went on to become the first national coach for athletics in Wales.

Jim Alford and his gold medal from Australia Empire Games (pic credit - Paul Alford)

Jim Alford and his gold medal from Australia Empire Games (pic credit – Paul Alford)

Another notable Roath Harrier was Brian Lee, winner if the EW O’Donnell Senior Cross-Country Championship Trophy in 1959.  Brian was a journalist and the man we are indebted to for publishing many books on the history of Cardiff.

In 1968 Roath Harriers merged with Birchgrove Harriers to form Cardiff Amateur Athletics Club.

By now I was beginning to ask myself why so many athletics clubs have the name Harriers in their title, Roath Harriers, Birchfield Harriers etc.  I’d learnt that Harrier was a type of hound but this only partially explained things. The other reason is that prior to cross-country becoming  sport there was a paper-chase sport in which two runners called ‘hares’ laid a trail of paper in the countryside and runners called ‘hounds’ tried to follow them and catch them up before they reached home.  Sounds great fun.  Now why did that die out and why isn’t it an Olympic sport?  Hence many of the athletics clubs that originated from the sport of paper-chasing have Harriers in their name.

Paperchase 1891

The Roath Harrier ‘hares’ laying the paper-trail (South Wales Echo Nov 1891)

The first mention I find of the Roath Harriers athletes is in 1884 when they met at Roath Court and headed off to Marshfield.  From 1884 to Spring 1890 they seem to have assembled at Roath Court. Was Charles Henry Williams an athlete himself or just interested in the sport and benevolent enough to host the club?  Well he certainly didn’t have an athletic appearance in pictures.

Roath Harriers 1884 to 1890

Newspaper reports of the Roath Harriers in the 1880s and 1890s describe the paper-chasing events in detail, the various routes that were taken and the adventures that ensued, leaping gates and falling into rivers. These routes are certainly interesting from a local history perspective.

Roath Harriers mishaps

Roath Harriers mishaps (South Wales Echo – Nov 1891)

The Cardiff Times on April 13th 1935 carried an article entitled: ‘Roath Harriers’ Club: How it was started fifty two years ago’, the first paragraph of which reads:

Fifty-two years ago three Cardiff Docksmen laid a wager that they would run from Cardiff to St. Mellon’s and back. Starting from a tree that used to stand in the middle of the road near Roath Court, they ran as they had planned. So intrigued were they with their first taste of running that they, with a few chosen friends, formed themselves into a club. This club became known as the Roath (Cardiff) Harriers. For three years the club was of a private nature, but from 1889 onwards it was Officially known as the Roath Harriers, and soon boasted a large membership.

This article appears to substantiate reports from the 1880s that the meeting place was Roath Court.

An undated cigarette card depicting the crest of the Roath (Cardiff) Harriers states the club was originally of a private nature, dating back from 1884, the oldest amateur organisation in South Wales.

Roath Harriers Cigarette Card - Ogdens

By October 1890 however a newspaper reports that they opened their season at their headquarters, the Royal Oak which is further east along Newport Road from Roath Court

In their AGM in Sept 1892 the Roath Harriers resolved to move their headquarters to the Claude Hotel and the newspaper reports later that year did indeed state that races started from the Claude.  In 1893 however the headquarters had been moved back to the Royal Oak.

In 1953 V.I.Pitcher published a short booklet,  ‘Roath (Cardiff) Harriers: A short history of the premier athletic club in Wales from its formation in 1882 to date’. Gone was any mention of a connection to Roath Court, or even paper-chasing for that matter. The opening paragraph reads:

Roath (Cardiff) Harriers, the first athletic club to be formed in Wales, came into being as the result of a wager. In the early 1880’s there were employed at the Cardiff Docks, in the offices of the various shipping factors, a number of young men who were proud of their athletic prowess, particularly at running. Over their morning coffee, these young “bloods” were apt to discuss their feats, with a result that challenges were forthcoming, and one Saturday afternoon, having solicited the aid of the landlord of the Royal Oak Hotel in providing changing quarters, these same young men fined up near the old oak tree in Newport Road, preparatory to deciding the issue once and for all in the only practicable way—by taking part in a race. The actual result of the ensuing struggle does not matter—what was important was the fact that the run was so thoroughly enjoyed, that they decided to hold runs every Saturday afternoon, and the Royal Oak Hotel was formally adopted as Headquarters.  Thus, in 1882, the first athletic club, catering solely for athletics, was formed in the Principality. Membership was by invitation only and confined to a limited number.

It may be that V.I.Pitcher had access to some very detailed early documentation regarding the club’s history or maybe there was some poetic licence being used.

The 1935 newspaper article makes reference to the race ‘starting from a tree in the middle of the road near Roath Court’.  I have studied old maps but can’t locate such a tree at either Roath Court nor the Royal Oak.  Of course the fact that the Royal Oak is named after a tree (having previously been called Spring Gardens), and that there is a tree edging into the left-hand side of the painting of the Royal Oak does somewhat edge the argument that way.

As someone interested in Roath history however I still like the notion that both sets of Roath Harriers, those with four legs and those with two, had their origin at Roath Court, the most historical location in Roath.

These links will take you to newspaper reports covering the paper-chases of Roath Harriers including participants getting covered in red-mud at the Penylan quarries: 23 Nov 1891   and  11 Nov 1895 .

 

Post Script

Roath Harriers 1923-1924 and the paperchasing bags of paper - photo shared by  Jon Morgan

Roath (Cardiff) Harriers 1923-1924 and the paperchasing bags of paper – photo shared by Jon Morgan

A smashing photo that Jon Morgan shared of the Roath Harriers in the 1923-34 season.  The sacks on the floor look to be the paper used in paper chasing seeming to prove that the sport of paper chasing lasted a fair number of years.

The Globe

It’s another one of those Roath buildings that tends to evoke lots of memories for people of a certain age.  Get into a conversation with another Roatharian about the Globe and soon you’ll be comparing what films you saw there and who with, whether you were a circle or a stalls person and what you bought from the usherette in the interval.    I think seeing The Graduate stands out for me.  Ahh, here’s to you Mrs Robinson.

Globe Cinema Albany Road with globe on top.

Back in around 1913 someone had the foresight to look at the burgeoning population of Roath and the enthusiasm for silent movies and commission local architects Willmott and Smith too design a cinema building.

The Globe stood on the corner of Albany Road and Wellfield Road, where the Pear Tree pub now is.  It used to be called the Penylan Cinema, had a seating capacity of 542 and dated back to 1914.  In fact there is a reference to there being a cinema there as early as 1910 and called the Albany Cinema. The name the Globe derives from the fact the building used to have a globe sculpture on the roof. Look carefully at the old picture of the Penylan Cinema and not only will you spot the globe on the roof but also the two caryatids; Greek-like female sculpted figures acting as columns supporting the first floor.  These figures were later hidden behind boards advertising the programmes. It probably had a Wurlitzer organ too to accompany the silent movies.

The interior was attractively decorated in classical style with eagles and the initials ‘PC’ (Penylan Cinema) near the domed roof.  Windows in the roof could be opened for ventilation to allow out the billowing cigarette smoke

Globe Cinema interior

Globe Cinema interior – taken after the cinema had closed down (photo credit: Steve Allison)

The cinema was renamed the Globe around the time it was rewired so that talkies could be shown in 1931. It was then owned by Rex Willis and operated with the Coliseum on Cowbridge Road and the Rialto in Whitchurch, often showing the same programme as one of these.

Globe cinema, Roath, Cardiff stalls and circle

Globe cinema, Roath, Cardiff stalls and circle (photo credit: Steve Allison)

In the 1950s the Globe specialised in showing foreign language films, usually subtitled, the only cinema in Wales specialising in such films.  The cinema was even called La Continentale at one stage. The papers of the time throw up some interesting stories. In Feb 1953 there was a private showing of the film Les Jeux Interdits for the Lord Mayor and the French and Spanish consuls.  In 1955 there was another private showing to the Watch Committee, this time of the film ‘The Stain in the Snow’. Only two members of the Watch Committee turned up, the Lord Mayor being one of them, and awarded it an X Certificate.

1955 Oct 26 western Mail X certificate

 

The Globe - La Continental

The Globe. Note how it appears to have been re-branded as La Continental at this time

In the early 1960s the cinema became a bingo hall for a short while but when that didn’t succeed it reverted to being a cinema sowing more mainstream films, often as double bills at reasonable prices.  In its final decades, the time many of us remember going there, it was a well-managed cinema owned by Mr & Mrs Wardle. Too much noise or sniggering and a torch light would highlight the offenders and order soon restored.

The curtains closed for a final time and the last choc-ice sold in the Globe cinema in 1985.  Sometime after it closed Steve Allison gained permission to take photographs of the interior of the building which he published in a nicely presented book ‘The Globe Cinema, Cardiff’ (ISBN-13: 978-0992989804), (available in Cardiff Libraries).

The Globe in later years

The Globe in later years

The building was demolished in 1987 even though it had had Grade 2 listed building status at some stage, subsequently revoked.  It was replaced by the Globe Centre, a collection of shops, a pub on the corner, originally called 42nd Street, then the Billabong and now the Pear Tree. The complex also would you believe contained a cinema, called the Monroe, which was later run by the Chapter Arts Centre and then became a Bollywood venture for a while before closing in 2001.  Today it is a successful music venue called, yes, The Globe.

Monroe

The Monroe – the last cinema on the site

So I’ll leave you reminiscing about your visit to the Globe, whether it be to see Blazing Saddles or something more refined like the Sound of Music.



A few extra pictures to bring back memories:

The Globe - the waiting area (photo credit: Steve Allison)

The couch in the waiting area where you would meet your fiends before the film began.

 

The Globe entrance prices

The Globe entrance prices (photo credit: Steve Allison)

Albany Road and the 1911 census Suffragette protest

Who would have thought it that an e-cigarette shop in Albany Road was the centre of a Suffragette protest in 1911.  I’m certainly thinking this is going to be a candidate for one of our virtual Roath History plaques.

Cardiff and District Women's Suffrage Society banner, 1908

Cardiff and District Women’s Suffrage Society banner, 1908

Earlier this year I saw an exhibition at Cardiff Story Museum that explained the following:

In 1911 the Woman’s Freedom League (WFL) called for its members to ‘Boycott the Census’.  Their motto was ‘No votes for women, no information from women’.

 They declared ‘Any government that refuses to recognise women must be met by woman’s refusal to recognise the Government ……. we intend to do our best to make it [the census] unreliable and inaccurate

 Boycotters in Cardiff spent the night at 34 Albany Road, Roath. The census record for the premises reads ‘this is the shop where the local suffragettes spent the night of Sunday April 3rd 1911 in order to evade the census & on the authority of Mr R J Watkins, Superintendent Registrar, the estimated number was: Males 2, Females 15, Total 17’.

 The Western Mail reported that ‘it is definitely known that the number exceeded fifty’.

 

1911 Census for 34 Albany Road

Extract from 1911 census of 34 Albany Road, Roath, Cardiff.

Whilst the census boycott didn’t nullify the census results, it did focus the public’s attention on the suffragette movement and its campaign for ‘Votes for Women’.  The outbreak of war however somewhat slowed advancement of the suffragettes’ cause.

Eventually, after the First World War, Parliament passed the 1918 Qualification of Women Act which enabled women over the age of 30 who were either householders or married to a householder, or who held a university degree, to vote  It was not until the 1928 Representation of the People Act that women were granted the right to vote on the same terms as men.

 

Then last month Bernice Maynard posted on the ‘Cardiff Now & Then’ Facebook page a postcard of Edwards & Co Drapers in Albany Road and wondered if anybody knew where in Albany Road this shop used to be.  A number of people rose to the challenge and identified it as being  number 34 Albany Road, the very address where the suffragette protest had taken place.

34 Albany ROad, Roath, Cardiff, Postcard.

Edwards & Co Drapers had closed prior to 1911 and at the time of the census was lying vacant,  but the postcard probably still gives a good impression of what the premises looked like at the time. Today it is the Flavour Vapour e-cigarette shop.

Flavour Vapour, Albany Road, Cardiff

There were many responses to  Bernice’s post.  Someone shared a Western Mail newspaper article relating to the protest and someone pointed towards a copy of the 1911 census return for the premises. Many thanks to Bernice Maynard , Pat Allen, Jackie Lewis and others for sharing their research and to the ‘Cardiff Now & Then’ Facebook page.

The interesting newspaper article, supplemented with some pictures found elsewhere, follows below.

 

Suffragette Protest for the 1911 Census – WESTERN MAIL

Password of the Ladies
“ESCAPE FROM THE CENSUS IN CARDIFF.”
HOW A SECRET WAS WELL KEPT.
NIGHT IN UNTENANTED HOUSING.
EARLY MORNING CALL BY REGISTRAR.

None of the suffragettes who were successful in evading the census was prepared on Monday to give any hint as to the number who spent the night in the untenanted house in Albany Road, Cardiff. Reticence on this point was only to be expected for it was hardly likely that they would give any information which would nullify their all-night vigil.  It is definitely known however that the number exceeded fifty, and while the majority of them belonged to the Social and Political Union, some of the members of the Women’s Freedom League and the Cardiff and District Suffrage Society joined in the scheme. Those concerned displayed unrestrained delight that they had kept their plans a secret and had thus been able to “diddle the enumerators” and cheat the Registrar-General.

The story of the scheme was related in Monday’s Western Mail, but it was not known until the early morning where it was being carried out.  It transpires that Miss Barratt of Newport, acting on behalf of the Social and Political Union, had secured the use of commodious premises, part of which is a shop in Albany Road no 34.  The ladies turned up singly or in two’s during the evening and, in order not to create suspicion, they made their way to the premises through the back lane.  None was admitted until she had given the appropriate password “Escape.”
The night was spent in the sitting-rooms of the houses, where fires had been lit early in the evening. A large number of chairs had been secretly conveyed into the building, but those were nothing like sufficient for those who turned up, and many had to lay on the floors. They had, fortunately, taken the precaution of having a good supply of rugs, cushions and pillows.

During the night the ladies were visited by police officers, and one of the census enumerators handed two census forms to one of the ladies. These were however refused and the enumerator then threw the forms on the floor requesting that they should be properly filled up. The only reply he received was that they would not be touched and that they should have been delivered on Saturday.  The request of the enumerator was not complied with, and when the ladies left, between seven and eight o’clock in the morning- they did so in small batches – they had what satisfaction is afforded in believing that they had prevented a complete census of Cardiff’s citizens. They did not however return to their homes until late afternoon, and after having breakfast at various restaurants, they either took long walks in the country or spent their time in the Free Library.

One of the party told our reporter that the night was pleasantly spent, and none of them had the slightest cause to regret their attempt to “spoil the census.” Everybody she said, “brought a stock of refreshments. and, after our supper party we talked for hours, and when this morning was well advanced we played cards. It was certainly an interesting experience, and if it served to show the ludicrousness of shutting out of the Parliamentary franchise all of the women of the country well -we are satisfied.”

Votes for Women 1911 poster

Newspaper “Beds”

HOW THE LADIES SPENT THE NIGHT

Mrs Keating Hill, interviewed by a Western Mail reporter, described the scheme as “thoroughly interesting and more successful than we at first thought it would be.”

Asked how many turned up, Mrs Hill replied, “We were a large family of about – well, how many do you think? I really didn’t count them.”
Mrs Hill went on to relate how the night was spent. “Although we had before us the prospect of a night’s ‘dossing,’” she said, “everybody was in gay spirits, and the proceedings opened with a ‘reception.’  Then we had to divide forces, because we all could not possibly spend the night in the same room. Things were exceedingly comfortable. There were bright fires in the grates, and we had a plentiful supply of refreshments.  We had to be cautious in regard to light, as we knew police would be keeping a sharp look-out for us, but we had treated the window with whiting, and were able to burn candles with some amount of safety.  After midnight some of the party wrapped themselves up in their rugs and went to sleep, their ‘bed’ consisting of a newspaper spread on the floor.  Others preferred to do some crochet work.  In our room we were fortunate enough to have a clever fortune teller, and she provided an interesting entertainment and of course we talked for hours.”
“There were certainly some diverting incidents during the night.  We soon discovered that we were being ‘looked for,’ and occasionally men peered in through the front window.  Then of course we spoke in whispered tones, so as not to give the game up.  We could hear and thoroughly enjoyed the heated argument between a police officer and a gentleman who had been peeping into the shop, and who turned out to be a Western Mail man.  He was certainly well on the scent at that time, but had he continued knocking we should probably not have answered the door just then.”

Cardiff libraties

Photo: Cardiff Libraries

VISIT BY THE POLICE

“Later a couple of policemen came and hammered at the door, and demanded to know what we were doing on the premises.  ‘The occupier’ was adamant, and a policeman might just as well have endeavoured to get a tramcar to discuss philosophy as to question her.  Fancy, the police wanted to go through the door, but we would not allow them: and them came two more officers and a lady inspector, but it was all of no avail, and the census man who followed was met with no greater measure of success.”

“We all remained at the house until about seven o’clock, and as there were still some of the police about, and we did not want to give them the chance to count us, we had to watch our opportunity to get away.  We left in small batches and scattered in all directions.  We had a jolly picnic, and we believe we have done a service to the cause we advocate.  Some of the party had their first experience of hard suffragetting, and we are pleased to know that they are not in the least bit daunted.  They expressed themselves as being ready for greater hardships than that, so that the Government will experience more trouble than they have had before.”

a group of Welsh suffragettes departing from Cardiff to volunteer as nurses with the Serbian Army, sometime in 1

A group of Welsh suffragettes departing from Cardiff to volunteer as nurses with the Serbian Army, sometime in 1914 (Photo: Glamorgan Archives)

“SCHEME A COMPLETE SUCCESS”

The census dodging party included Miss Barratt of Newport, who is the organising secretary of the Women’s Social and Political Union for South Wales.  Seen by one of our reporters on Monday Miss Barratt remarked that the scheme had been a complete success, and that they had all spent a thoroughly enjoyable night.
“We certainly hadn’t a dull moment in the room I was in,” Miss Barratt went on, “and if we were not listening to entertaining discussions on the situation and the cause, we were able to watch some of the ladies playing their best trump cards in whist.  Of course we did not play cards on Sunday night- we waited for that until the early hours of Monday morning.”
Referring to the visits of the police, Miss Barratt said they appeared to be under the impressions that they had a right of entry to the house and would not credit that the building had been rented for two nights.  “They had no search warrant,” added Miss Barratt, “and of course they could not come in, especially as the person in charge explained that she was responsible for the conduct of the house.”
Miss Barratt stated in reply to a further query that the majority of the census evaders were educated women, and ranging in age from sixteen to 60. The number also included several married ladies.

Early Morning Call

REGISTRAR’S FRUITLESS VISIT TO ALBANY ROAD

On Monday afternoon one of our reporters interviewed Mr. Jack Taylor, registrar for East Cardiff, who has control of more than 30 enumerators.  Mr. Taylor was familiar with the hiding-place of the suffragettes.  It was he said, the shop and house, 34 Albany road, formerly in the occupation of a draper, and now vacant and to let.
“This morning,” he went on, “at two o’clock, I had some unexpected visitors in the person of Police-sergeant Wootton and Police constable Jack Hudson. They woke me up as registrar and reported that certain females were evading the census.  I got out of bed, and foreseeing certain difficulties, I prevailed upon my wife (who acts as my deputy) to accompany me in the hope that she might be able to identify at least some of the ladies.  We went together, and immediately I rang the bell three ladies came to the door. They carried ‘candle dips’. I asked one of them ‘Who is the head of the house?’ and she said ‘I am,’ but as it was past twelve, she in answer to my inquiries, refused any information.
“Were the police with you?”
“they were outside listening. I asked the ladies for their names, but as the schedules had not been served upon them before twelve they declined to give their Christian or surnames. I did not know them, and I should not know them again, neither do I know how many were in the house, but those I saw were well dressed.  One of the three retired.  I served each of the two remaining with a schedule, but they still declined information. I read to them the section under which they are liable to a forfeiture of £5 each.  All they said was that they were advised not to give their names or addresses because the enumerator had not served them with schedules before twelve.”
“That being so , will they be able to escape the penalty?”
“Certainly not,” answered Mr. Taylor, with emphasis. He added that at half past eleven on Sunday night some ladies were seen to enter the house in Albany Road and at twenty minutes past twelve the police reported the admission of three others.  The officers rang the bell.  The trio made a move towards the door but did not open it.  Mr Taylor will report the facts to the Registrar general.

 

“GONE TO CARDIFF TO EVADE THE CENSUS.”

A prominent gentleman in the neighbourhood of Cardiff has a daughter who is an enthusiastic supporter of the cause, and this young lady was one of those- chiefly school mistresses and assistant teachers – who passed Sunday night in the house in Albany Road. Her name and all the required details had been included in the schedule at home but immediately her father learned of the cause of her absence he put the pen through the name and wrote: ”Gone to Cardiff to evade the census.” The gentleman informs us that a good scolding awaited the young lady on her return on Monday morning.
One person only was found by the police wandering aimlessly about Cardiff streets on Sunday night and was enumerated as one of the homeless.

Women's_Suffrage_Pilgrimage_in_Cathays_Park,_Cardiff_1913

Women’s Suffrage Pilgrimage in Cathays Park Cardiff in 1913 (Cardiff Libraries)

A Voice From The Inside.

HOW THE NIGHT WAS SPENT IN ALBANY ROAD
(By one who was present)

Late on the eventful night, along a convenient and little known back street, we approached the House of secret Abode. from the other end of the street’s dimness three forms approached, grotesque shapes gradually becoming outlined into the figures of three women, rugs and bundles, panier-like at their sides.
“Can they be some of us and don’t know the way to it? Shall I ask?”
“Better not,” my companion cautioned. “Perhaps it’s a trap.”
With furtive glances we passed them by. With equally furtive glances they passed us by; when “It must be,” said I, and turning after them called, “Are you a _?”
“ Yes we are!” came the prompt rejoinder, chorused in unmistakable relief. “Oh where is it? We don’t know where to go, and we are afraid to go anywhere.”
“Come along; it’s quite close now. But we must divide.”

So in twos, we dived through the little door, that opened noiselessly and readily at our approach into the garden, and then, with many stumbles and “Hushes,” into the House of Secret Abode, giving vent to a sigh of relief that at last we were safely inside.
Already there was a good crowd of us. From the ”reception-rooms,” sumptuous with a fire, one table and a clean floor, we overflowed into the “bedrooms,” to deposit our rugs in their bareness and select our planks for the night. In many rooms were already stretched on the planks they had chosen prostrate forms, occasioning – for “No Lights” was the order of the House – much stumbling stifled “Oh’s,” and suppressed laughter.
“What’s that? Hush! Oh,” with relief, “It’s only gravel thrown at a window. It’s one of us – she can’t find the way in, Quick; fetch her in or she’ll give us away.”
Gradually all were got safely in, the stealthy tramping to the bedrooms ceased and all sounds died down.
Thunder, thunder, bang –crash!
“Good heavens!” and with the shock of it the floor seemed to depart from our shoulders, and like marionettes on strings we sat up with a jerk.
“Will you open the door?” Bang, bang, “Open the door, I say,” and the impatient hammering began again.
“It’s the police. They’ve found us. Oh!”
Then footsteps were heard hurrying down: the door opened, the voice of She Who Resisted for Us raised in altercation, alternately heard and drowned in the two angry voices of someone who must surely be two huge, angry policemen. Doors were stealthily opened, and from each issued a bold spirit, to hang in darkness over banisters and report in hurried whispers what she heard.
“They want to come in. They want to search the house … They say they will come in … She won’t let them. No, she won’t – protests they have not the right. Oh,” with a gasp that made us all lie back with one accord – flop. “They are coming, I do believe.” And our particular bolder spirit hounded back into our room and fell over all of us in turn in her hurry to hide herself in her rug.
“What will they do?” was asked.
“They can’t do anything,” we all stoutly agreed.
A footstep on the stairs. Coward hearts thumped wildly. “Oh, it’s only one,” And then the re-assuring vision, behind a shaded candle, of Her Who Resisted.
“They have gone to get a warrant to search the house. Mind, answer no questions: give no names: just say you are my guests.”
With a shriek of inextinguishable laughter at the thought of the luxurious accommodation we “guests” had had provided for us, we buried our heads in our rugs till the excitement subsided into harmless gurgles and gasps.
Two hours of suspense. Every creak an alarm: every step in that uncarpeted house the loud step of what we feared. But gradually fear and wakefulness faded, and all rested, save the cricket down in the garden that chirped the night cheerfully away.
W-h-i-r-r-r-r-r, and a bell like twenty alarums for suddenness and violence rang and rang.
“Sh-sh-sh, keep perfectly quiet,” floated up the word from below. Then voices again, not angry, but – argumentative. Snatches were audible:
“Well, I admire you for ——“
“Oh, girls, it’s all right,” came a stifled voice: “he admires us.”
“Well, they won’t, if they come up and see us looking like this.”
Then again silence till the word came up –
“It’s all right. We’re safe.”
Then that House of Stealthy Steps and Stifled Voices became the House of Babel . Doors were flung open, and we trooped out and down the bare stairs to hear what She Who Resisted had to tell.
“Three policemen, a woman, and the enumerator. Yes, positively. But I refused to take the papers in, and, look, they have had to drop them on the floor. And they are gone. They haven’t the right to search.”
“Who wants to give three cheers?” sang out a voice. “No, no, the neighbours. Hush! Now to sleep, and then in the morning we must be up and out before they come for the papers.”
So it was done. Soon after dawn a hasty toilet, assembly downstairs, outer door opened, and we filed silently over the dropped census papers out into the street. And, hey, pronto! We are gone: nameless ones, melted away, no one knows where.
Along my way later dashed a taxi, windows full of fares smiling at me, of hands waving at me, the last batch of the comrades of that unforgettable night – “The rummiest night I’ve ever spent,” as one had quaintly remarked.
And what, after all, is behind it? Not fun, not laughter, not rumminess. Ah, no. It is the spirit of rebellion that is abroad, in growing earnestness and passionate desire for justice and freedom: it is the awakening in women of a new feeling of collective consciousness, of high responsibility for others. And he who reads aright the signs of the time sees therein a tremendous force for good making a higher civilisation, wherein the womanly qualities shall have direct sway in the molding of the nobler race of the future.

End

 

More information on the protests in Cardiff at the time is detailed here

 

 

What happened to Roath’s War Memorial?

There has been a lot of emphasis this past month remembering the people behind the name’s on the WWI war memorials.

I thought I would try and gather together information about all the memorials in the old parish of Roath.  It’s been an interesting exercise and far from over.  I have visited some, found photographs of others and had commitments from people supply information on others.  I think there are still quite a lot out there that I haven’t yet found or seen photographs for.  I’ve begun to put together a page on the memorials I know about.  Please let me know of any others!

The one big surprise to me was that we once had a stone memorial in Roath.  It stood in front of Roath Road Wesleyan Methodist church on the corner of Newport Road and City Road.  The church was badly damages in  an air raid in WWII but photographs show that the war memorial survived.  But then what happened to it?

Roath Road Wesleyan church and war memorial

The war memorial can be seen in front of the church in this fascinating photograph.

I’ve read recently that war memorial is said to have been taken down round about 1955 and put on a porters trolley “borrowed” from the Infirmary and towed by pick-up van to the Trinity Methodist church on the corner of Piercefield Place and re-erected in it’s forecourt. Does anybody remember it there?  I’d be interested if anyone knows where the memorial ended up.

Roath Road Wesleyan War Memorial

The name of W M Seager, son of the Cardiff shipowner of the same name, can just about be made out half way down the list of names on the right .

On a close up picture of the memorial I can just about make out the name W H Seager.  That would have been William Henry Seager or Willie Seager as he was known.  He was the son of Sir William Seager, Cardiff shipowner.  The Seager family lived close to the church on Newport Road. Sir William commemorated the loss of his son in many ways.  He financed a ward in Cardiff Royal Infirmary.  We also set up the Willie Seager Memorial Trust which had a row of cottages for retired merchant seamen built on the corner of Newport Road and Colchester Avenue.  Those cottages have since gone but new Willie Seager cottages constructed at the eastern end of Westville Road in Pen-y-lan.

Some other war memorials and plaques have fared much better.  The stone memorial outside St Saviour’s in Splott was renovated and looking good.  The Cardiff High School memorial is now on a wall at the ‘new’ Cardiff High school on Cleyn Avenue and students at the school actively researching the names on the memorial and another memorial that includes the name of W M Seager.

The Howard Gardens / Howardian High School war memorial plaque has survived the current demolition of the school and is now safely installed in the new Howardian Primary School.  Only a small fragment of the original Howard Gardens WWI plaque however survived the WWII bombing of the school.

So there you have it.  The list of memorials and photographs I have so far collected are on our War Memorial page (click to open that page and on other links on that page). I hope to add others soon such as the now missing Mackintosh Institute plaque and the nicely restored Vivian Llewellyn memorial in Highfields church.

Roath Road Wesleayan Methodist damaged with scafolding

The bomb damaged  Roath Road Wesleyan Methodist church with scaffolding erected. Evidently it was decided not to repair the church subsequently and demolish the remains. But what happened to the war memorial?

 

Ted Richards – Dec 2018