Chronicles of a Vicarage Childhood

Eluned Rees remembers the many interesting people, some very influential, others comical or eccentric, she encountered early in her life.

I lived in the Vicarage, Llwyndafydd until I was seven years old. My mother was a town girl, and when she was given a rabbit by a parishioner, she had no idea where to turn for help. Enter Tim, the postman, a man of many talents, and he taught her how to skin the poor animal.

Many of our parishioners and neighbours were very lovely people. Bessie and Lloyd Jones, Penparce, were old fashioned, with chickens running around the stone floored kitchen, while Lloyd sat writing poetry at the scrubbed table. He was a member of the Cilie family, a family of famous poets, and my father joined them on some occasions in poetry competitions.

Another of that family was Tydfor, who lived with his mother on a smallholding called Gaerwen, overlooking Cwmtydu bay. His father, Siors, drowned himself at the beginning of the war when he learned that only one able man from each farm could be spared from being called up to fight. He sacrificed himself so that Tydfor was spared. Tydfor wrote an ‘englyn’ on my birth, very precious to me. See the photo.

Mrs Lewis was the minister’s wife in the village and her son, Dewi Tudur, was about my age. The two mothers would wheel us babies down to Cwmtydu in our prams. The only problem was that my mother was not fluent in Welsh at that time, and Mrs Lewis came from Penygroes in Gwynedd and was a real Gog! Apparently, they had to turn to English very often to have a conversation. I am pleased to hear that Dewi Tudur - or Revd Dewi Tudur Lewis - is now a very respected minister and preacher. I remain an ordinary Warden (so far!)

Going to school in Caerwedros was an adventure. Eirlys Cwmcynon, from the neighbouring farm, would call for me to walk to the village to catch the bus. Our teacher was Miss Rees, who arrived each day noisily on her Lambretta from Newquay. The school is now a house.

My father ministered in two very different churches, Llandysilio go go, down in the valley looking out to sea, and Saint Mark, Gwenlli, right next to the main road from Aberaeron to Cardigan. But the kindness of the two congregations towards us was wonderful whilst we were there, and my parents kept in touch with many for years afterwards.

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