Dolgellau Remembered... The Fire Brigade (The Dolgelley Fire Brigade at the turn of the Twentieth Century) Little boys will remain little boys, even after they are grown up and are my age. Some things are cast in concrete, like throwing stones better than little girls. Our taunts and war chants circled the globe: "Our dog can fight your dog", "Dolgellau can beat Barmouth", "Our car is faster than your car, "Our Dad can beat your Dad"... Parochial assertions which confirmed our conceits. As debatable as a public house argument... Usually without damage. There was however, one activity where Dolgellau was indisputably superior... viz. and to wit... The Fire Brigade. Other towns might be dedicated arsonists but we were the people who could, quick as a wink, snuff out chimney fires, the town dump, Christmas trees and other incendiary excitements. At the risk of an understatement, let me say, The Dolgellau Fire Brigade was the best in Wales, the best in Britain, the best in the world and especially better than Barmouth. The Great Fire of London would never have happened if Capten Jones y Dwr, that is to say, Jones the Water, had been there with our engine and our men. And the proof? Look at the buildings in the town... hundreds of years old... tight as a sporran... dry as a Sunday. And the trees all round... everything waiting to go POOF if we ever had a fine day. Our boys were ready. We felt quite sorry for Barmouth... three quarters of the town was drowning in Cardigan Bay twice a day, no chance for a decent fire there. It was just as well because, every time there was a whiff of smoke from the Cambrian Railway someone had to go running up Panorama Walk behind the Church to lassoe the horses. Their Council was too mingy to buy a real fire-engine, although they were always running after the visitors with collecting boxes. So it was poor Dobbin who had to go galloping to places as far away as Cutiau Kennels while Dolgellau dowsed every conflagration this side of Hell. We had a gas-works with steam ready for the fire siren. Barmouth had an old man on a three-wheel bicycle and carbide lamp to go knocking the houses for volunteers. Sometimes they would fire a rocket and explode a maroon but then everybody would rush to the slip-way to watch the life-boat getting launched by mistake. And with the noise of the rocket and all the shouting the horses had to be fetched down from the mountain again. Think I'm inventing? Do you remember the fire at St. David's in Harlech? Famous it was. The Dolgellau boys drove twenty miles... right through Barmouth, who couldn't find their horses, RIGHT THROUGH and TEN MILES BEYOND. Do you remember the two fires at Brunton's factory? Nobody from Barmouth came to help... not that we needed them and how about the thirteen fires with the wet hay at Cymer Abbey farm? Nobody from Barmouth. Not even when Y Popty Lawnt a.k.a. the Bakehouse caught fire. What a lovely smell of fresh bread and sparks as high as Cader Idris. And the medals in the window of Richard Jones, New Shop. Trophies like you wouldn't imagine. Only missed one fire, the Buckley Mansion in Llanymawddwy... the operator in Machynlleth wouldn't reverse the charges! Pity, everyone said it was a lovely fire. You can still see the lodge gates. Digon... ... Craig Parry Hughes 7th Tachwedd 2004 Back to Dolgellau Memories