Eastbourne Pier: an obsession with gold paint

One thing I noticed when I visited Eastbourne Pier earlier this month was the amount of gold paint that had been splashed about rather liberally on various surfaces. The Pier was built in the late 1860s and I sincerely doubted that the Victorian constructors had painted any part of it such a golden colour. And, as the Pier is a grade II* listed building, it seemed odd to me that Historic England would have authorised the use of gold paint in any restoration work. 

When I looked back at photos I’d taken during my first visit to Eastbourne in 2014, I could see there was no gold paint anywhere. So, I delved a little deeper and discovered, on the National Pier Society website, the origin of the gold paint. In July 2016, ‘Historic England and the local council ordered Pier owner, Sheikh Abid Gulzar, to stop all work on it after he painted its cupola gold without permission’. Gulzar’s response? ‘For me it is a project of the heart. It was the most neglected pier in Britain but there has been a lot of work carried out. I am looking for the next generation to enjoy it. I am not scared to think outside the box. I’m not charging people. They are coming onto my investment free of charge’. 

Rather surprisingly, in September 2016, following a meeting between Gulzar, Historic England and local council officials, ‘the council’s planning officers recommended that the application be allowed provided no further parts of the pier were painted gold until consent had been given.’ Perhaps the deciding factor was the fact that Gulzar was paying for the repair and restoration of the Pier, rather than Historic England and Eastbourne Council. In March 2017, even more gold paint was permitted, after Gulzar ‘applied for planning permission to paint the remaining two domes in the middle of the pier gold to match the existing 13 domes.’ 

But what is this obsession with gold paint all about? It seemed to be a personal preference of Sheikh Abid Gulzar; the Pier is owned by Golden (Lions) Eastbourne Limited (‘Golden Lions’), of which Gulzar is the sole shareholder and director. And, according to an article on the Eastbourne.info website, Gulzar has long been known as ‘Mr Goldfinger’ in the local and national press. The article, which provides a summary of Gulzar’s life, continues rather scathingly:

The “Goldfinger” persona
Gulzar’s public image is a deliberate construction: gold-liveried cars (a custom gold Mercedes AMG, gold Teslas, a gold Rolls-Royce), outsize gold-and-diamond rings, dark blazers with bright red ties, and portraits of Margaret Thatcher in his offices. After buying Eastbourne Pier he extended the aesthetic to the building itself — gold paint on the Victorian ironwork, gilded lion statues, and “Sheikh’s Pier” branding.

By this stage I could see that the ostentatious Gulzar’s love of bling was the reason for the gold-painted domes and turrets, and the golden lions on Eastbourne Pier, but what about the gold hippo I spotted on the Pier? Surely that was someone’s attempt to mock Gulzar’s obsession? But no. I then found articles about Gulzar adding gold-painted hippopotami statuettes to Hastings Pier, which he also owns. Now that truly is bizarre, and I wasn’t at all surprised to read that some unknown person or persons were being sought by Hastings Police for throwing one of the hippos off the Pier.

Eastbourne: the Pier

In the 150-plus years since it first opened in 1872, the iconic Pier in the East Sussex seaside town of Eastbourne has been subject to the whims of fate. Just five years after it opened, the Pier structure at the beach end had to be rebuilt after it was destroyed by the waves of a powerful storm, and there have been numerous other calamitous events: an exploding mine caused major damage in 1942, a fire destroyed the theatre in 1970, and the aftermath of a hurricane wrecked the landing stage in 1987. The most catastrophic event in recent years was undoubtedly the huge fire in July 2014, which reduced the arcade structure at the landward end of the Pier to a scorched and blackened metal skeleton. 

I first saw Eastbourne Pier in August 2014, not long after that fire, and, not surprisingly, the entire pier was fenced off, its future at that stage uncertain. Though the fire damage was limited to approximately one third of the structure, and the remaining two thirds appeared not to have suffered severe structural damage, the logistics and financing of any rebuild were to prove extremely challenging. 

By the time of my next visit to Eastbourne in May 2017, the Pier had been bought by Sheikh Abid Gulzar and the process of restoring the Pier to its former glory had begun. The fire damaged arcade structure had been removed, and the landward end of the Pier repaired to the extent that people could once again access the undamaged sections at the seaward end.

Though I’m not someone who would ever patronise the facilities offered by Eastbourne Pier, I definitely like to see structures like this being retained and restored for their historic value, and for the entertainment of those who do enjoy such amusements and frequent its bars and restaurants. So I was delighted to take a stroll around the Pier during a visit to Eastbourne earlier this month, though disappointed to see many of its shops closed and/or empty, and its buildings looking run down in some areas. Sheikh Abid Gulzar appears to be an entrepreneur with interests in a multitude of businesses; I hope that doesn’t mean he will neglect his responsibilities to the maintenance and continued viability of Eastbourne Pier.

Weymouth: the Pier Bandstand

The plaque at my feet reads:

The Pier Bandstand was opened in May 1939. The forest of piles supporting the pier were criticised, but the Art Deco buildings above were much admired. It included a stage, dance floor and seating, partly open to the elements. It was a popular venue for dance competitions, beauty contests, wrestling and music. Pullingers operated an elegant restaurant on the first floor until 1981. The section fronting the Esplanade was extended in the 1950s & 1960s and is the only part that remains following the demolition of the rest of the Pier in 1986. 

When I look up, I see what remains of the once grand structure that stretched out into the sea. The façade of the original building remains, its Art Deco curves and finely crafted window frames still intact, but the building has been extended on both sides. The symmetry of the building has been altered, the left side no longer mirroring the right. And though the upper storey additions mimic the original Art Deco characteristics in their flat rooves and window details, and the elegant glass balustrade on the western side, the lower storey of the building is an abomination of 1960s plate glass framing of windows and doors. 

As you can perhaps see from my photos, the first floor still houses a restaurant, currently Oliveto, while the lower floor has been converted into an amusement arcade in the central section, with a combined gift shop and café on the western side of the building, and public toilets on the eastern side. 

I took my photographs early in the morning, before any of the businesses in the building were open – during opening hours, there are tables, chairs and racks of seaside tat for sale outside the café, and assorted miniature coin-operated kiddie rides outside the open doors of the amusement arcade. 

I’ve read on Wikipedia that there were plans to restore and extend the bandstand, including the restoration of exterior Art Deco features and symmetry. It seems a great shame to me that those plans had to be abandoned when the West of England Development Agency withdrew its funding.

Weymouth: the Gloucester Street heads

During my most recent visit to Weymouth, in September, I spent an hour or two wandering around the streets of the old town, streets full of characterful buildings, interesting signs and plaques, notable snippets of architectural adornment. One such thoroughfare is Gloucester Street, where I took the photographs shown here. 

By sheer coincidence, the guesthouse where I stay when I visit Weymouth, the excellent Gresham (highly recommended if you’re ever in the area – I am not paid to say that; I’m simply going by my experience of the friendly helpful hosts, the comfortable well-appointed rooms, the delicious breakfasts) subsequently posted about Gloucester Street on social media:

Have you ever noticed the faces on the buildings in Gloucester Street?
We recently heard a fascinating bit of Weymouth folklore about them.
The story goes that they date back to Weymouth’s royal days, when runners working for the King were sent around town with messages and errands. As some couldn’t read, they were supposedly directed to the right house by the face carved outside it.
Great story, isn’t it?
There’s just one problem… we’re not convinced it’s true.
We’ve been doing a little digging and, so far, the dates don’t quite seem to add up. George III’s famous visits to Weymouth were at the end of the 1700s and beginning of the 1800s, while the buildings with these particular faces appear to have come later.

 
The sculpted, and sometimes painted, heads on the Gloucester Street houses had also captured my attention, and I took the photos shown below of some, though not all of them. 

I love the idea of the folklore related by folks at The Gresham but a little online research appeared to confirm what they wrote about these houses being constructed after the years that King George III made his regular visits to Weymouth. The British History Online website reports as follows **:

The area W. of Gloucester Row was developed by speculative builders from c. 1830; the houses were more simply designed and cheaply constructed than the monumental terraces facing the bay and were intended for occupation by a lower social class. The streets in which the early stages of this development, prior to 1850, are seen are Bath Street, Gloucester Street, Park Street and Wesley Street. The houses (Plate 185) are very similar to one another in character; they are mostly of two storeys and attics with rendered brick walls and slated roofs, of one room in width and with doorways under semi-circular or segmental-arched heads. All except Monument (257) have bow windows to the first floor with double-hung sashes and moulded or dentil cornices. 

So, what is the story behind the intriguing sculpted heads? I still don’t know. But if I, or the folks at The Gresham, find out more, I’ll be sure to update this blog. 

** ‘Weymouth', in An Inventory of the Historical Monuments in Dorset, Volume 2, South east (London, 1970), British History Online https://www.british-history.ac.uk/rchme/dorset/vol2/pp330-374 [accessed 18 October 2026].

Weymouth: George III’s bathing machine

My bus to Portland – that’s it in the background – isn’t due to depart for another ten minutes and the scene is washed in a delicate early morning glow so I pop across the road to take some photos. (The early morning also had the advantage of relative peace, quiet and empty streets compared to the constant flow of pedestrian and vehicular traffic that would soon flood the streets and pavements.) 

The subject of my camera is the replica, installed in 2012 to mark Queen Elizabeth II’s Diamond Jubilee, of the bathing machine used by her great-great-great-great grandfather King George III. An article in the Dorset Echo, dated 6 April 2021, includes a wonderful photo, taken in 1910, of the original machine on which the replica is based. 

George III first went bathing in his octagonal machine at Weymouth in July 1789, believing a dip in the sea would help him recuperate from illness. (Much has been written about ‘mad’ King George and the frequent bouts of illness that dogged his 60-year reign; a BBC website article notes that researchers now believe he was suffering from a mental illness like bipolar disorder, rather than the disease porphyria.) George continued to visit Weymouth for his summertime dips almost every year until 1802, though there seems to be some doubt as to whether this original machine continued in use. According to a blog on the Dorset Ancestors website that original bathing machine was replaced just two years later, in 1791, by a ‘larger and more extravagantly fitted-out machine’, and an article in Country Life notes that ‘the royal machine remained in regular use by members of the bathing public until 1914’; one assumes the King and the bathing public would not be using the same bathing machine. 

Much has been written about bathing machines and the bathing huts that superseded them – that Country Life article provides a good summary. They developed as a means of protecting the modesty of the person going bathing. In George’s case, there is some dispute about whether he changed into his bathing costume or stripped naked for this bathing, but the removal or change of clothing would take place within the hut as it was being drawn by a horse into the water. The King would then be assisted in his bathing by two fully clothed female ‘dippers’, before returning to his machine to dry off and put his royal robes back on. A rather wonderful mural depicting this scene is displayed on the side of the Seascape Café in Weymouth's Greenhill Gardens.

Weymouth: Queen Victoria Statue

When I’m visiting the Dorset seaside town of Weymouth, I often walk past this statue of Queen Victoria as it is on the route from my guesthouse to the RSPB Lodmoor Nature Reserve, where I like to go birding almost every day. 

This morning, as I returned from my circuit of Lodmoor, I finally made time to take some photos of the statue. 

It is a grade II listed building / monument that was erected in 1902, in commemoration of Queen Victoria, who had died in January of the previous year.

The Historic England listing describes the monument as being approximately 5 metres high, with a life-size – she was around 151cm tall – bronze statue of the queen set on a 2-metre-square podium made of Portland stone. 

The queen faces south along the Esplanade, with her back to Weymouth’s Church of St John.

The plaque on the podium beneath her on this side reads ‘VICTORIA. D.G. BRITANNIAR (sic) REGINA. FID DEF INDIAE IMP’.

 

As you can hopefully see from my photos, the bronze has survived the intervening years well and looks to be in excellent condition. The stone, and its inscribed plaques, however, are rather weathered, presumably because the monument is quite close to the sea and must often be blasted by inclement weather, particularly during the winter months. 

The inscription on the panel on the back / north side reads:
'This memorial erected by public subscription was unveiled by H. R. H.  Princess Beatrice (Princess Henry of Battenberg) October 20th 1902.
John Bragg - Mayor
Richard Nicholas Howard - Town Clerk.' 

On the east side of the podium the carving represents the Arms of the Borough of Melcombe Regis (shown above), and the western side bears the Royal Arms (below). 

The Historic England listing makes no mention of my favourite part of the statue, the four bronze dolphins, one set at each corner. 

The presence of dolphins in British public art like this monument is usually assumed to represent Britain’s position as a dominant force in global sea power.

Maesteg: North’s Navigation Collieries office

Though the building itself is quite plain, the decoration above its front entrance caught my eye and so I took a few photos. 

This Grade II-listed building, on the corner of Castle and Talbot Streets in Maesteg, was built in 1908 to house the offices of North’s Navigation Collieries (1889) Ltd. The British Listed Buildings website describes the building as follows:

Built of rubble with limestone dressings, with a slate roof. Flemish Gothic style. The main front to Talbot Street is of 3 bays, and the corner is splayed, returning along Castle Street as one triple and 3 single bays. Two storeys. Narrower central bay has an arched entrance with 2 tall paned overlights and frieze inscribed NNCs 1889 Ltd. Tall three-light windows on the side bays under a flush relieving arch, the original top sash and 2 fixed lights below surviving on the west side. The upper floor of the central bay is gabled and set forward on cusped corbelling, either side of a central window. This has a deep head inscribed AD 1908, and a 2-light cusped blind tracery window above, rising into the gable. Windows to the side bays repeating those below. The roof has a raised coped gable at the left end, and is hipped at the splayed corner, with a metal finial.

It’s interesting that the listing describes the building as being constructed ‘of rubble with limestone dressings’, as that’s not how it was described at the time it was built. A brief article in The Rhondda Leader, on 12 December 1908, reads as follows:

The New Offices for North's Navigation Collieries, Lmited, at Maesteg.
The new offices which Messrs. North's Navigation, Ltd. have built at Maesteg are situated in the centre of the town, at the junction of Talbot Street and Castle Street, with the chief frontage facing these two thoroughfares. The principal entrance is in Talbot Street, and access is obtained to all the rooms on the ground floor by means of a broad tiled corridor running the whole length of the building, and leading to a. stone staircase by which the upper floor is approached. To the right of this corridor are placed the general office and pay office, while to the left are the deputation and waiting rooms and the strong room for the safe keeping of plans and other documents in case of fire. Externally the building is faced with Forest of Dean stone and Bath stone [my emphasis], the general treatment of the elevations being simple in character except at the entrance. The work has been executed by Messrs. Radford and Greaves, contractors, of Derby, under the personal superintendence of Mr. Radford, a partner in that firm and a resident of Porthcawl, the designs having been prepared by Messrs. Pugin and Pugin, architects, of London and Liverpool, who have received the assistance of the mining agent, Mr. Gibbon, in supervising the carrying out of the work.

 
Then I became curious about North's Navigation Collieries and discovered this piece, published in the Western Mail on 8 January 1889

THE DEVELOPMENT OF MAESTEG.
WHAT COLONEL NORTH PROPOSES TO DO.
A ROSY OUTLOOK.
On New Year's Day Colonel North, the "nitrate”' king, who is the head of the syndicate that recently acquired the property of the old Llynvi and Tondu Company, announced when at Maesteg that it was proposed to spend some £50,000 in developing the district. This was, indeed, good news, and further inquiry only adds to the rosiness of the prospect. Though the syndicate do not purpose [sic] restarting the Llynvi Works at present, negotiations are now nearly ripe for acquiring further mineral property to that already possessed—some 7,000 or 8,000 acres—the object being to sink a pair of new pits for steam coal. The output of the colliery when developed, it is expected, will be at the least 1,000 tons a day. It is also intended to erect new and expensive plant for coking and washing, the apparatus to be of the most modern description. The railway communication is also to be re-organised, and new lines are to be laid down for the purpose of bringing the collieries already possessed—two large steam coal and four large bituminous coal concerns—into nearer communication with the main lines. At Tondu the Park Slip Colliery is already being enlarged for the purpose of ensuring a greater output, and a new blast furnace and Coppѐs stoves are to be proceeded with at an early date. With the exception of the new colliery, the whole of the work has been practically commenced, and even the sinking of the new pits is but a matter of a very short time, as the only question is as to their exact location. Already £50,000 has been spent, and it is computed that the further immediate outlay will reach well nigh double that amount. The syndicate, which is known as “North's Navigation,” in addition is amongst the chief promoter of the Vale of Glamorgan Railway, which proposes, not only to accommodate a district that is totally without railway accommodation at present, but, having access to the Llynvi and Ogrnore district, would be an effective means of supplying bunker coal from the Llynvi and Ogmore district, to the Barry Docks. A good authority on the subject says that Colonel North is a most enterprising man, and if the workmen of the district but utilise their opportunity and show their appreciation of what Colonel North is doing, he is the kind of man, not only to deal with the district with anything but a niggardly hand, but to put into it every half-penny that its development may call for.

Colonel North occupies such an important place in public attention just now (remarks the Liverpool Daily Post’s London correspondent) that anecdotes about him are being told everywhere. Although his display of riches may be ostentatious, his generosity is admitted on both sides. On the occasion of the coming of age of his son a party was given in celebration of the occasion. During the supper which formed part of the proceedings the colonel handed to his son a cheque for £10,000, not as a portion of the patrimony, but as a little present with which to buy some memento of the occasion, or to take a little holiday.

Somebody has been making up a list of Colonel North's recent purchases. There was £100,000 for his estate in Wales, £60,000 for the whole of the statues and pictures in the Italian Exhibition, and now £10,000 for Kirkstall Abbey, besides the little bill at the Metropole, which will probably come to about £2,500. This gives a total for these things alone of £172,500.

It was recently reported that Colonel North’s colours would shortly be seen on the turf. It may now be taken for granted that such will be the case, for the gallant colonel, who was such a large purchaser of greyhounds at the Barbican last December, has now two horses in training—Iddesleigh and Mirror—with R. Sherwood, at St Gatien House, Newmarket. Iddesleigh was purchased on his behalf (and not for Lord Randolph Churchill, as previously reported) from the Kingsclere Stable, and is said to have cost1,000 guineas, whilst Mirror, a four-year-old filly by Speculum out of St Helen’s, won three races last year and two in 1887. Both should do good service for their new owner.

 [The portrait above is from The Aberystwith Observer, 30 November 1893.]

This Colonel North sounded like quite the entrepreneur. An entry on Wikipedia describes his life more thoroughly; I have just extracted the part relevant to Maesteg:

John Thomas North (30 January 1842 – 5 May 1896) was an English investor and businessman.

In Britain he set up North's Navigation Collieries (1889) Ltd. in Glamorgan, south Wales, a venture which turned out to be one of his most successful. By 1920 his Welsh company employed over 6,000 miners and produced over one million tons of coal per year. The development of North's Navigation Collieries Ltd. was largely responsible for the rapid growth of Maesteg and the Llynfi Valley during the years 1890 to 1910. 

[The portrait above is from the South Wales Daily News, 6 May 1896.]

Having died in 1896, Colonel North never actually saw this office building that bears his company’s name. As he died at the relatively young age of 54, I wondered about the cause. This report, which I have abbreviated, and the portrait shown below are from the Evening Express, 6 May 1896:

The Nitrate King Gone
PASSED AWAY IN HIS SON'S ARMS.
Died as he Lived in the Midst of Business Excitement and Worries.
Colonel John T. North, head of North's Navigation Collieries and chairman of several great undertakings, dropped down dead at his office at half-past four on Tuesday afternoon from a fit of apoplexy. At the time of the fatal seizure the gallant colonel was presiding at a meeting of directors, and death is stated to have been almost instantaneous. Medical aid was at once summoned, but the doctor on his arrival pronounced life to be extinct.
[The article goes on to report the reaction amongst colleagues and the business world, as well as more details of the manner North’s death – he had earlier eaten a meal of oysters and they were initially suspected as a possible cause but his death was later confirmed to have been the result of a heart attack.]
THE COLONEL'S CONNECTION WITH MAESTEG.
The news of Colonel North's death reached Maesteg by wire from the "Western Mail" office. The colonel was chairman of North's Navigation Collieries (Limited). He had visited Maesteg once since the purchase of the Llynvi Collieries, in 1889, and on that occasion made a present of £500 to his workmen to celebrate his visit. He was presented with an illuminated address by his workmen at Maesteg, Tondu, and Ogmore. The local Conservative Association invited him to stand at the last general election as a candidate for them in the Mid-Glamorgan Division, but he regretted that he had consented to contest the West Leeds Division. All the workmen at Maesteg, Tondu, and the Ogmore Valley held Colonel North in high esteem, because he was a munificent contributor to all funds started on their behalf. Although he seldom visited the district, he was fully informed, and took a hearty interest in all local matters, even to mere trifles. Great sorrow is felt throughout the district. 

I had no idea when I took the photos of this building in Maesteg where my subsequent research would lead me but that is exactly why I enjoy looking more closely at the built environment around me.

Maesteg: Drinking fountain

I’ve only been to Maesteg, a town at the northern end of the Llynfi Valley in south Wales, a couple of times, and then only to look for dragonflies at some local ponds. However, when I was there earlier this week, I had a little time to kill before catching my train home, so enjoyed a short walk around the town centre. 

Maesteg is this year celebrating its 200th anniversary, and has some impressive historic buildings; I really must take the time to explore further. 

On this occasion though, what immediately caught my eye was this monument in the town ‘square’ (it’s actually more of a triangle), situated at the intersection of three streets and located immediately in front of the former Town Hall. 

This was once a functioning drinking fountain, and has been designated by CADW, the Welsh government’s historic environment service, as a Grade II-listed monument, labelled the William Hopkin Thomas memorial lamp and fountain. From the CADW website listing, the exterior is described as follows:

Pink polished granite with grey granite. A die raised on two stepped plinths, having water basins on 2 sides and the back and front inscribed recording the erection to William Hopkin Thomas, doctor, local benefactor and chair of the local eisteddfodau, one side in English, the other in Welsh. The die has delicate etched decoration and is gabled, and carries a cylindrical terminal domed structure supporting a heavy cast iron cross which once carried three fine lamps. 

When I got home, a search of the Welsh Newspapers online website, revealed several newspaper articles describing the fountain’s presentation to the people of Maesteg. This is from the South Wales Daily News, published on 28 November 1900:

LATE DR. W.H. THOMAS. J.P.
PUBLIC MEMORIAL AT MAESTEG.
A drinking fountain in memory of the late Dr. W. H., Thomas, Bronygarn, was presented to the public of Maesteg on Tuesday. The structure cost over £200, and stands in the most central position in the town, near the Town Hall, North's Memorial Hall, and the railway stations. Flights of steps in Forest of Dean stone lead to a landing eight feet square, upon which stands the fountain proper, which is of solid granite (swede red). Surmounting the structure is a standard for three lamps. The whole work reflects the greatest credit upon Mr J. L. Jenkins, the contractor, and Mr W. H. Rees, architect. There are two drinking basins fitted with aluminium cups and chains. On the eastern side of the fountain is the following inscription:—"Erected by public subscription as a memorial of William Hopkin Thomas, J.P., M.D., M.R.C.S., Maesteg—a man valued by all for his professional skill, respected for his integrity and uprightness, beloved for his geniality and kindness of heart." On the opposite side is a similar inscription in Welsh.
At the ceremony of presenting the memorial to the public there was an exceedingly large gathering. The Rev. Stephen Jackson, vicar of Llangynwyd, the Rev. Iorwerth Jones, chairman of the Executive Committee, Mr Thomas Rees (Hen BIwyf), and Mr Rees Rees, D. C., spoke of the good work done by the late Dr. Thomas. The Vicar of Llangynwyd then, on behalf of the committee, presented the drinking fountain to the public. Mr D. Beynon, J. P., chairman of the District Council, formally accepted the gift, and the assembly sang “Hapus Dyrfa” to the tune St. Garnon, Mr S. Davies, G. and L., conducting. Mr Stephen Lewis acted as clerk of works gratuitously. 

Dr Thomas was obviously a much loved and well respected pillar of the Maesteg community so I looked also for an obituary. The following was published in the South Wales Daily News, on 14 April 1899, and included a sketch of the man himself:

DEATH OF DR. THOMAS, J.P., MAESTEG
Dr. W. H. Thomas, of Maesteg, died suddenly at noon on Thursday. He had been out visiting patients with his son from 8.30 in the morning, and returned to his residence, Bronygarn, about 11.15. He was preparing to go out again to the upper district when he complained of internal pains, indicating heart trouble, from which he had suffered. He yielded to his son's persuasion to take a little rest, and was about re-entering the house from the backyard when he was seized with faintness. He suddenly became unconscious and died almost immediately in his son's arms. Dr. Frost, the assistant, was sent for, but the deceased gentleman was beyond human aid. We understand this was the fourth attack of a similar character which he had experienced during the last five years. The deceased was a son of the late Mr Thomas Thomas, grocer, Maesteg, and was 58 years of age. He was a member of the Royal College of Surgeons of England and M.D. of St. Andrews University. After taking his degrees he spent two years in Ebbw Vale and then came to Maesteg, where he acquired a large practice, patients visiting him from the adjacent valleys and also from the Rhondda. He was a justice of the peace, and a member of the Maesteg Council, heading the poll at the last contested election for the East Ward. He never took an active part in politics, but it was supposed that his vote generally went on the Conservative side. He was genial and generous, of cheerful disposition, quick and active in manner, and indefatigable in his labours. He was a strong patron of the Eisteddfod, and encouraged music and Welsh literature. He was for some time medical officer for Llangynwyd Higher, under the Neath Board of Guardians, and was also medical officer under the old Maesteg Local Board. He was chief surgeon and medical attendant of the workmen employed at Garth Merthyr Colliery and at Oakwood Colliery. Twice was he presented with a public testimonial, because he rendered a fair share of his services gratuitously. On the last occasion he received an illuminated address, an oil painting of himself beautifully framed, and a purse containing £600. He commenced his practice in Maesteg about the year 1867, and did conspicuous service during the cholera epidemic which occurred about that time. He leaves a wife and seven children. One of his daughters was to have been married to Dr. Kirkby, of Glyn-corrwg, on Wednesday next. Much sympathy is felt for the bereaved family. The funeral arrangements are not yet known, but it is likely that the interment will be at the parish church-yard of Llangynwyd, where his parents are buried.

It seems a great shame to me that this drinking fountain is no longer in usable condition. 

You would think it would be possible to reconnect the water pipes, refurbish the connections within the monument, and remove the granite slabs that have been placed above the basins.

In these days of drought and heatwaves, a free source of water would certainly benefit the local community, and the William Hopkin Thomas memorial lamp and fountain could then continue to be a functioning and useful tribute to the good doctor in whose honour it was commissioned.

The mystery of the Nonpareil Market

This decorative stone plaque, bearing the inscription ‘The Nonpareil Market 1889’, now sits very incongruously atop an archway over a path into an estate of modern, rather ugly flats and houses in James Street, Cardiff Bay. Prior to its relocation, it was displayed at the top of an imposing stone building that stood very close by, on the corner of James and Louisa Streets, which, in 1889, contained the business premises of butcher Frederick Ward, and Solomon Andrews, an entrepreneur who operated a grocery store at this location but had his finger in a great many other pies. 

I am not the first person to have wondered about the origin of the Nonpareil Market name, nor the first to have spent time researching to try to find an answer, and I will probably not be the last. As part of an excellent series of blogs exploring the buildings shown in the superb artworks of Cardiff artist Mary Traynor, David Webb, a volunteer at Glamorgan Archives, produced the blog Nonpareil Market, James Street, Cardiff, published in January 2018. Despite his extensive research, Webb was unable to find an answer to the Nonpareil Market mystery, but his blog is certainly worth a read, and it includes an image of Traynor’s lovely watercolour of the building to which the plaque was once attached. You can also view a photograph of the bricked-up building, taken in 1985 prior to its demolition, on the Tiger Bay and the World Collection website. 

In 2014, in a guest post on the blog We Are Cardiff, contributor Jeremy Rees also wondered about the Nonpareil name, admitting that

All I can glean is that Nonpareil was the name of a sugar plantation in Guyana, South America – I know that many Guyanans settled in Tiger Bay and the Docks so that may be a clue, but as to where the stone came from and why it’s there, that’s still a mystery.

The mystery of where the stone came from was solved by David Webb but not the name. As I like a good challenge, I too have tried to discover the origin of the Nonpareil Market name. A search of the Welsh Newspapers that have been digitised and made available online on the National Library of Wales website revealed no information on the name Nonpareil Market. However, the word nonpareil appears in 3011 entries (reduced to 2637 if I selected the English language option), a total that rather surprised me. Even more surprising were the contexts in which the word was used:

• there were references to the collisions and wrecks of both a sailing ship and a steamship of that name;
• a fabric known as ‘Nonpareil’ velveteen was advertised as ‘the richest, softest and most becoming fabric ever produced’;
• the boxer who was middle-weight champion of America in 1889, ‘Dempsey, the Nonpareil’, who had been beaten in a prize fight and so was no longer the ‘unequalled’;
• a racehorse competing in the Zetland Plate at York, named, presumably, by an optimistic owner;
• an apple, grown on the North Aston Hall estate, which was for sale in 1909: ‘it was in the grounds that the “Nonpareil” apple was introduced into this country from Normandy in 1593 and called “North Aston apple”, or “Folk’s apple”.

It seems usage of the adjective nonpareil was much more common in the 19th and early 20th centuries than it is today, when we would be more likely to use adjectives like unequalled, unrivalled, or unsurpassed. And that, in turn, made me wonder whether the name Nonpareil Market was simply a boast by the entrepreneur Solomon Andrews that his ‘grocery store’ was, in fact, a market for goods and produce that was unequalled by any other in the Cardiff area. The truth is we shall probably never know, but I have passed an enjoyable stormy afternoon trying to find out.

Penarth ghost sign: Windsor Nursery

Back in 2021, during renovation work, an old shop sign was uncovered on the front of number 86 Windsor Road, Penarth. It read ‘Windsor Nursery’. 

I’ve tried, during the intervening years, to get good photographs of the sign and its building but that has always proved tricky. For much of that time, a large campervan has been parked on the street in front of the building, limiting the possibilities for front-on shots. Also, for a long time, the exterior of the building was covered in scaffolding, though little building work seemed to take place. More recently, the front of the site has become overgrown with foliage. 

Though the word ‘Windsor’ is an obvious nod to the street name, I wondered, initially, about the name ‘Nursery’ – a child-care business, or something horticultural perhaps. Then, I found a post about the building on Twitter; this dates from March 2021 and was posted on the LovesTheDiff account:

An old shopfront sign was recently uncovered at 86 Windsor Road, Penarth. Windsor Nursery was a kind of convenience store of its time. Graham Hicks saw it and dug out this old photo belonging to his aunt. It shows the shop as it was more than 100 years ago.

I no longer use Twitter, and, for copyright reasons, cannot include the photo here but have added a link to the account name for those of you who can access it. I did, however, manage to find a couple of advertisements for goods being sold by the shop, published in the Evening Express, on 22 November 1909 and 31 December 1910 respectively. A sow and her piglets, a ladder, hot water pipes and a garden roller – it’s an intriguing combination of offerings. 

In a reply to the Twitter post referenced above, someone had added another old photograph with the comment: ‘And this is 86 Windsor Rd in 1920s/30s after the Price family took it on. Ernest Price pictured (my great grandad). My mum grew up there.’ Once again, I cannot show you that image, for copyright reasons, but here I had a piece of luck. 

I bumped in to a friend who was walking his dog in a local park and who lives near 86 Windsor Road. Somehow our conversation turned to the building and, by sheer coincidence, he told me he had an old photograph from the time when E.W. Price was the shopkeeper, which he was happy to send to me. The image quality is not great but I am still extremely grateful to my friend for letting me use this photo. 

The old photograph also showed how much the building has been altered in the intervening century; I’ve included a side-by-side comparison to show those changes. The most noticeable difference is the removal of the wonderful oriel window and its replacement with a modern rectangular window, which leaves the building devoid of its former character. I hope the ghost sign can in some way be retained and protected, as a piece of local history, but I somehow doubt that will happen. The building was recently put up for auction, though it appears there were no bids for it, so only time will tell what the future holds for the former ‘Windsor Nursery’.

Cardiff Bay: The Story Stone

Cardiff Bay has yet another piece of public art, this one to mark the 25th anniversary of the Barrage that closed off the once-tidal Bay and the natural outlets of the Rivers Taff and Ely to create a lake that now has water quality so poor that you definitely wouldn’t want to swim in it. But, hey, let’s celebrate the creation of the Cardiff Harbour Authority whose job it is to look after these murky waters. 

The artwork is the creation of sculptor Ben Dearnley, whose website says:

This project brings together the ancient world of standing stones with a modern twist. Within this huge piece of Welsh slate we have some of the stories of this wonderful regeneration of Cardiff Bay.

The mock standing stone is a 2.4-metre-tall piece of Welsh slate, with three stained-glass windows set into it. Each window shows different aspects of the Bay, pre- and post-Barrage, including the workforce that is now constantly required to clean up the rubbish that flows down the two rivers; some of the local wildlife: Salmon, Great crested grebes; and people walking, running, cycling and sailing in and around the Bay. If you’re interested in the artwork’s creation, the project page on Dearnley’s website includes many photos of the work in progress. 

If I sound cynical about the project, it’s because I am. There are two main reasons, neither of which is a reflection on Dearnley’s creation, which I actually quite like. The first reason is because, as I think I’ve mentioned in previous blogs about Cardiff Bay’s artworks, the Council (of which the Harbour Authority is a part) seems ever ready to commission and pay for new pieces but appears to allocate zero funds to maintaining them, with the result that many have now literally crumbled away or are eyesores. 

The second has to do with the area where this new piece is located, its surrounding ‘garden’ incorporating what was once a small and very necessary pond for small birds, until the machinery which operated its hydraulic system stopped working. Even then, the pond held a small amount of water and native plants until, under the pretext of ‘health and safety’ – that small amount of water was deemed a hazard even though the large unfenced lake a few metres away wasn’t – the Harbour Authority dumped a large quantity of stones and boulders in the pond to make it ‘safe’, which, of course, rendered it unusable by birdlife. 

What could have happened was a repair, even an enlargement of the former pond, and the installation of an artwork that encompassed or surrounded the water in such a way as to allow birds in but prevented access to dogs and their humans, thus rendering it safe. Something like an inverted hemisphere-shaped stainless-steel net, for example (this is not a product endorsement but a quick google found the website of a company called Creative Pond Covers Ltd which manufactures bespoke pond covers, exactly the sort of thing I’m envisioning). With a little imagination, this could have been a win for art and creativity, as well as benefitting the natural environment … but it isn’t.