The photos are of my father Thomas Cooper, mother Elizabeth Cooper, myself and my sister Theresa. I have no surviving photographs of the Nag's itself or my stepmother Kathleen Cooper. The photo of my mother was taken circa 1956/57, probably the last photo taken of her before her death in the summer of 1957. The one of my sister would have been about 1954/55 just before she "ran away" to get married. The one of my father was possibly about the time he retired from the pub. I suspect this was 1968 or thereabouts. Again, sadly I have no photo of Jack Francis Smout our long term lodger, and certainly mine and my father's guardian angel on a couple of occasions when the going got tough!
The pub as I think you know was a Bents Brewery house for the majority of our occupation (1953 - 1968) prior to being taken over by Bass M&B. I am confident of the occupation date, because it coincided with the Coronation. I am reasonably sure about the leaving date because I can benchmark it to other personal events. I was not in Ludlow when Dad finally left the pub, but I recall going to visit him in the house he purchased in the town shortly after he moved.
A significant part of our revenue was derived from B&B, and as I recall we had capacity for 9 (10 at a push) people on any given night. The serving area of the pub was split into three discrete areas Bar, Snug and Lounge, the latter being somewhat overstated possibly by today's terms. Our actual downstairs living quarters were quite modest, a small living room and a kitchen. There was however a very comfortable sitting room at the top of the stairs.
Our busy days were of course market days, when it seemed like the world and his wife had descended on Ludlow for the day. We had a special licence that permitted us to stay open from 10 - 10 on these days. This was quite unique by standards of the day, when opening times were otherwise strictly enforced.
The Nag's experience was a happy time for me by and large. I led a large part of my younger life like some latter day Huckleberry Finn! The NSPCC and the like would have a field day now with a parent who indulged his young son with a shot of whiskey before bed, a smoke on a small pipe (infrequently) and let him stay out till 10 at night as long as I was in earshot of the pub. Less to worry about in those days I suspect. We had billboards on the car park for both of the cinemas in the town and this entitled me to an annual complimentary ticket for both the Clifton and the "Old Picture House" maximum 2 visits per week. I divided my leisure time in my teens equally between football, cricket, girls and poaching.
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Like most pubs of that time we had many regulars. Some who immediately come to mind would include:
John Grubb: Master at Fishmore School
Harold Williams: Agricultural sales
Sid James: Train Driver
Jack Woodbine: I think Bricklayer?
Bill Braddock snr: General Dealer.
Clive Jones: Butcher
Des : Fireman - used to play the Accordion
Mr and Mrs Dyke: Kept a cafe/restaurant opposite the long gone town hall. I think may now be the tourist office?
Albert - The biggest policeman I ever clapped eyes on.
A rather glamorous couple who used to come in most Sunday nights and watch Sunday Night at the London Palladium on the TV in the Lounge whilst consuming Babycham and whiskey respectively. They were married . Sadly it seems to different partners! They were nevertheless regulars, and that was all that mattered.
Dennis Watkins: Ran the garage just above the Star and Garter further up Corve Street.
A plethora of landlords from the other pubs in the town - Dad was very sociable on a selective basis.
Many others whom I would probably recall with the appropriate prompt.
One of my schoolmasters, Jack Gatehouse came to see Dad to pass a general comment about the declining wildlife on his smallholding. He maintained steadfastly I had poached it all. I was actually caught red handed by Jack, and marched to the Nag's to hand over my arsenal - a rather tired 410 shotgun - to my dad. It was of course duly returned, probably the same day on the understanding that I regulated my nocturnal habits a little. Even later at the age of sixteen, in my O level year, Jack would end any Chemistry lesson by asking me in front of the remainder of the class for a brief rundown on the state of grace on his land. He would inevitably preface this request with a comment along the lines of "Cooper of course knows my land far better than I." In spite of all this he personally dropped off my O level results at the house for me as soon as they arrived at the school. One of the masters at the Grammar School was a drinking partner of Dad at times and this probably saved my bacon on one or two occasions.
The footprint of the Nags, as was, is indelibly imprinted on my mind.
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