EVER looked at something and wondered if it’s always looked like that?

In Abergavenny, there’s a lot that’s changed and not much left to give a wandering soul any inclination of what came before .

That’s why old photos come in handy!

Check this out!

It’s what used to be the corner of Flannel Street leading into Castle Street.

Flannel Street gave pedestrians a lot more bang for their buck before it was decimated during the 1957 slum clearance.

It is now less than half the size it once was. And a lot of it now lies beneath the post office. In fact, the vehicular entrance to the post depot on Castle Street is pretty much where the two old streets used to converge!

Looks a lot less pleasant now, doesn’t it?

So called because Abergavenny’s once famous flannel used to be produced here the street was also once known as Butcher’s Row, because you guessed it, there used to be a lot of meat and bone sellers in the vicinity, including the delightfully sounding Mrs Jones’s faggot shop.

All in all there were five butchers and a slaughterhouse in this part of Aber. Sounds like a vegan’s nightmare doesn’t it?

During the demolition of Flannel Street, one of the most intriguing finds was an old tombstone which had been laid face down on one of the buildings.

Upon the stone was inscribed the burial of William Jenkins who died in 1782, his daughter Rachel (1778) and son James “of this Town Breeches maker (1812) and of Mr Zacharius Laurentius Appelt “Later Quartermaster in 58th Regt, who died the 6th of August 1795 aged 34 years.”

Nevertheless, much was lost that will never again be found.

Such as most of the seventeenth century houses that once littered Flannel Street and gave it its dizzy air of wasted elegance. .

However, as you can see from one of the pics, a few old faces remain, such as the drinking den of delights known as The Hen and Chickens.

The building dates from at least the reign of William IV and at the turn of the 20th century the ‘chicks’ was renowned as something of a high-class restaurant.

One boozy night of splendour in 1911, notorious Newport super tramp W.H. Davies enjoyed more than a few jars here and wrote, “O what a merry world I see/Before me through a quart of ale.”

After a heavy session, the super tram retired to his chambers and made sure the door was sufficiently blocked to deter any stray chancers.

Waking up to some curious noise in the early hours, Davies grabbed his sword stick and attacked the intruder. Only to discover is was his own coat and cap he had hung on the night post the night before.

Chicken Street, which was once a short thoroughfare leading from Flannel Street to St. John’s Street is no more, but courtesy of these old-time photos we can get a real feel for the flavours with which old mother Aber cooked with way back when.