How do you feel about furniture. Is a table a table or is itsomething else? (I'll leavePlato alone in his own heavenly furniture shop for the moment.) Let'stalk about a wooden top with four legs or perhaps a grand dining table with an extra leaf and extra legs. That's for when you use the best silver, cut glass, napery and maybe have a butler waiting on you.

I don't mean to be snobby about this, but furniture can tilt peple into some very squiffy angles, especially food critics like AA Gill. Yes, that's the one. He's tangled with the Wesh before. He'sbitter. More than a bit. Bitter as wormwood and the gall.

Unless I misrepresent him, and I'm tryinghardto be fair, he's gone and said it again.Said that anyone who is anyone would not own anything 'as common as a Welsh dresser'.

I ran to the 'phone to tell Emma. (My life is so narrow). 'Bless him. He's really bitter,' she said and we both cracked ourselves laughing.

Peter is nine years older than me. What hasthis got to do with our furniture? Well, everything, once. Not now so much.

My husband (note I nearly always refer to him as Peter but I'll say 'my husband' just to vary things, because he has a perfectly good name and I can't standcolumninst who coyly call their husbands 'him inside' or 'husb' - haven't they got a name, for goodness sake and if so what's wrong with it? -if they were called 'TinTin', Ramboor 'Tarzan' I could forgive the shyness) began his teaching career in London and on a Saturday he sometimes visited the Design Centre, where all the lateststyles were on show.Before we married he had decided we would have Ercol and G Plan furniture in our home. (We've still got it, the club-style teak G- Plan reupholstered in grey flannel from Melin Tregwynt and lookingsurprisingly perky.)

Over the years I've sneaked things in. We have a French linen press, with shelves I've added to hold books. A mirror from an Irishfarmhouse hangs on one wall, a Victorianoccasional table holds a lampand a window seat from the same era has been reupholstered in purple velvet. I've given Emma antique corner shelves and dressing table mirrors I've tired of. (She lives in a three-storey Georgian house so they are more at home there than in my eighties box).

I also have a dining table, with removable centre leaf and matching chairs bought in Llandissillio. You will realise I'm not a purist.

But my younger daughter will not have anything old in the house. Nothingwith a past life goes through her door.She agrees with Feng Shui that old things hold the spirit of previous owners. I agree, too, butI can treasuresomeone else's treasure and look after it.

Although my taste is eclectic,I haveone stricture and I'm strict about it: please, no imitations. An imitation is an imitation and I don't see the point ofreproducing things, especially when old wood mellows to a beautiful patina.

Going off on the squiff for a moment, I stood in Edinburgh Castle, in the same wooden panelled roomwhere Charles 11, Lucy Walter's 'Black Boy', was entertained in the seventeenth century.I felt a very strong sensation of Charles's presence, as though he had left something of himself in the fabric of the room. I can't quite find the words to describe whatI felt so I'll paraphraseOliver and Harry and say: 'Awesome', 'Legend'.

Now, if that had been a Disney mock-up, it wouldhave been nothing more than pink bubble gum stickingto your sole.Some people can't tellthe difference and it's nota problem for them. I don't mean to besnobby.

I was talking to aphotographer whowas shooting scenes for aproposed book. Hehad been to various beauty spots in Pembrokeshire butwould not be returningalone tothe Preseli Mountains. One year, just after asnowfall, he went up to capturethestillness and isolation of the region.There wasno other living soul around and that was the trouble. He felt spooked.

Drive from Eglwyswrw, over the mountains to Haverfordwest when the moon is full, and you will sense something other worldly.

I was thinking of this today and remembering a plane thatcrashed in the Preselis on 19th September, 1944. The plane was a Liberator EV881, number 547 squadron, Coastal Command. It had a nine man crew, six of whom were killed. Each year a service is conducted on Carn Bria, the site of the crash, anda plaquehonours the memory of the dead.

Not only thespirits of humans return toa place, but that of animals, too.A brown dog haunts RAF Scampton in Lincolnshire. Itis said to have belonged to the leader of theDambusters squadron, Wing Commander Guy Gibson.

A large part of the C20th has been about remembering those who fought for us.A friend, now dead, attendedPrendergast Junior School, Haverfordwest,during the 1920's. The children marched down to the Cenotaph for a service each November 11 and the teachers who had fought in the Great War wore their uniforms that day.

In the Model School, Carmarthen, which I attended in the late 1940's, there was a plaque in one of the classrooms with the names of 'old boys' who were killed in World War 11. Each class had to march past the'memorial' and salute.

Following this service in school, one night Ithought of the horrors of war and couldn't sleep. My mother, to cheer me up, showed me the doll I was having for Christmas. It was just a quick look, but I went back to sleep again.

I was in Carmarthen today. In Narberth members of the Welsh Assembly'sbusiness and enterprise committee are doing a survey. What makes Narberth's cash registers jingle all year round is what they're after. They've already had 'compelling evidence', whatever that means, says Nick Ramsey, AM.

I'm thinking of shops bursting with delicacieslike crumb-crusted deep fried prize winning duck eggs from Hayscastle, Llangloffan award winning hand-made cheeses, 'Calon Lan' organic milk and I've told you umpteen times about everything else: antiques, gorgeous dress shops, glass grapes, ticking cushion covers, hand made cards, Iles- de- Rey type watering cans so you can play at being a peasant a la Marie-Antoinette in her shepherdess outfits and then there is art to make your house look as though youare a person of refinement with exquisite taste anda patron of the arts, rolled into one.

But 'Twsh'to all that: I am too much of a Romantic (note the use of the Capital and think Lord Byron, Keats, the sighs of the 'Lady of Shallot')to think of rateable values and their affects on businesses, (though one of my favourite businesses: Andrew Squire aka the 'Country Squire', objets d'art and whatnots hand delivered to your residence, at a time to suit your convenience,on a Sunday afternoon when the proprietor is on his way toreplenishhis larder for the coming week, hasclosed due to increasing rates and there's the rub, aye).

So, I shall leave the AM's to scratch their own brains and return to my trip to Carmarthen.The car parks were full, but not too full and not too pricey and I had a few happy hours bobbing in and out of shops. Iheaded to King Street and straight into an antiques shop.

Emmawants more old cutlery and I had seen some dessert spoons in a velvet lined box the week before.They were still there and the price was dropped from sixteen pounds to fifteenbecause I've bought there previously. I also bought a fifties cushion cover (five pounds) to embroider and a shopping bag, another five pounds.

I could havebought a loaf of spelt bread in a delicatessen lower down the street, or a quiche, but not today.

Instead I went into acharity shop and bought three 'crinoline lady' cups and saucers and a tray cloth. Next,some grapes in M@S and then my mother and I enjoyed sausage and chipsin the Ivy Bush, where the staff are as good as the food.

The old Carmathen market was claimed to be best antiques market in South and West Wales. I bought an 'Alice in Wonderland' from 'Snooks's' stall when I was young and I used to view the Christmas fowls each year, bedizened and caparisoned in parsley and sage wreaths, surrounded by onions glistening like giant pearl necklaces.

I will admit the new market in Carmarthen does nor resemble the old in any way but the old market, opening only twice a week,never made economic use of the facility.Many people taking part in Welsh language programmes claimed that the closure of the market would change the ethos of a countrytown. Carmarthen has always enjoyed alow unemployment rate and, with the new shopping centre, it hasmoved into the C21th.

Walking around the town today, seeing all the big multiples, Ithought of Emma's comment:'Art for art's sake; money for God's sake'.

Quay Street, Haverfordwest, was formerly known as Ship Street or 'The Rookery'.It was a place of ill-repute,and no respectable person ventured there after dark. Boats, crewed by all nationalities, tied up at the quay and sailors spent their nights drinking in the'Bristol Trader' inn.

Most of the crews were well-behaved despitethe copious tots of 'Old Jamaicy' that were consumed. On 14, August, 1907, two boats from Roscoff arrived, having taken thirty three hours to sail from Brittany with their cargo of onions. There was bad blood between thecrews and a fight broke out. Peace was restored eventually and the rest of the stay passed without incident.

Many of the crew slept 'rough' in the warehouses, or ten to a room in Quay Street.The sailors meant extra revenue for the householders in the street, but standards of living were very basic.

In November, 1913, a representative from the Local Government Board found thatthe state of housing in the town was unsatisfactory, manyhouses inQuay Street falling into this category.

In May, 1914, one hundred and sixty four cases of pulmonary tuberculosis were reported in the Haverfordwest area. A poor standard of housing was cited as a contributory factor.

But, amidst this poverty, there were people who were able to afford the luxury of a motor car.

The first person to take out a car licence in Haverfordwest was Sir Hugh J.P. Thomas. On December 22, 1903, he received the registration DE 2. The speed limit was set at twenty miles per hour.

In November, 1913, Pembrokeshire County Council recognised that the increase in motor traffic and other heavy vehicles was causing wear and tear to the approaches of the County Bridge and it was decided thatforty pounds per year should be spent on keeping this area in good repair.

The local paper carried an advertisement from the garage known as 'S &F Green',wheremotor cars could be repaired. Ladies motoring gloves, hats and veils were also available in the town.

St. Mary's Church, Haverfordwest, isone of the finest examples of Perpendicular, or Early English,architecture. Originally, it had a spire but this was damaged during the C18thand never replaced.

Following the capture of Jerusalem by Saladin, Giraldus Cambrensis came to Haverfordwest in 1188, accompanied by the Archbishop of Canterbury, Archbishop Baldwin. Their mission was to recruit volunteers for the Third Crusade and it is thought they occupied the pulpit at St. Mary's.

Gerald, Archdeaconof Brecon, refers to himself in the third person when he says: 'Although the Archdeacon addressed them both in Latin and the French tongues, those persons who understood neither of those tongues were equally affected and flocked in great numbers to the Cross'.

Wives tried to dissuade their husbands from going, not wishing to be widows of a Holy War.

Gerald, ever themysogynist, was wholly disapproving oftheir sentiments: 'Nor is it wonderful if a woman follows her innate evil bent. For it is written in Ecclesiastes:"I have found one good man out of a thousand, but not one good woman", he trumpeted.

This was the Age of Faith anda statue in St. Mary's Church is of a pilgrim, bearing a purse with the scallop shell insignia, showing he has journeyed to Santiago de Compostella in Spain.

Not far from St. Mary'sstands a memorial, erected in 1912, recording the martyrdom of William Nicoll, burnt at the stake on 9th April, 1588, during the reign of Bloody Mary. Little is known of Nicoll, but he wasthougt to be a simpleton by some: 'This William Nicoll was so simple a good soule that many deemed him half foolish'.

Moving on to Victoriam times, market stalls were set up outside the church and the Llangwm fisherwomen were a feature most weeks.

It is a cold frosty sparkle of a night here and the gritter has passed by andmy mind has turned tothe Victorian 'tramp', or vagrant.

Haverfordwest had about eightlime kilns at least during the C19th. On clear nights, sparks from the kilns blistered the skies, making them beacons forhomeless tramps. Many could be found huddled around a kiln and the more daring often slept on top of a kiln.

In 'Chiaroscuro' Augustus John recalls that tramps had been known to fall in and become asphyxiated by the fumes. By the morning, all that remained was a pile of ashes.

Vagrancy was a social problem. In Quay Street, Mrs Powers kept a lodging house where tramps could spend the night.The alternative was the workhouse, whichallowed a night's lodging and breakfast in return for chopping wood or breaking stones.

These tasks weremeant as a discouragement. Treffgarne stone was usually supplied to the Workhouse but when the Haverfordwest Board of Guardians met in 1913, the Clerk reported that the vagrants had complained this stone was very difficult to split and too hard for them.

The 'Pembroke County Guardian' was sympathetic, writingthat 'the poor vagrants said that the (Workhouse) Guardians did it deliberately'.

It was decided that the Guardians should approach firms in Bolton Hill and Porthgain with a view to supplying softer stones in future.

A popular song of the time was:

'Mr Rees of Cartlett Mill

Burnt himself upon the kiln,

Gave the girls a penny a piece

To rub him over with candle grease.

Did you ever see, did you ever see,

Did you ever see such a funny thing before?'

On February 13, 1907, the Haverfordwest local paper reported that a meeting of the Women'sSocial and Political Union had taken place in London.The aims of the union were to extend the Parliamentary franchise and make it equal for men and women, regardless ofmarital status.

The following year, in 1908,the suffragette movement decided to campaignin Haverfordwest.

Mrs Massy and Miss Elsie Gye were the first to arrive, staying at the Mariners' Hotel.They wanted to publicise their campaign and gainlocal support.

News of the arrival spread like wild fire and there was great excitement.

On the evening of July 1st, a large crowd gathered in Castle Square to hear Miss Gye speak.

She introduced herself by saying she was one of the most militant members of the suffrage movement and was proud of having been to Holloway for her beliefs.

Aweek later, Emmeline Pankhurst, the most famous of the suffragettes, arrived. On the Saturday afternoon she made an eloquent speech from the balcony of the Mariners' Hotel.

When asked if she was in favour of votes for married women she replied that she wanted the vote for women on the same conditions that men had it. If Asquith's government pledged it's support for women's suffrage on the same terms as men had it,she would cease her campaign.

The demands of the suffragettes were moderate, merely asking for equalityregarding voting rights.Well received in Haverfordwest, these women were mocked by many and fought a bitter fight against enormous prejudice from men and their own sex.

Near the bottom of Barn Street, Haverfordwest, stands an elegant group of houses with iron balustrades, known as 'Spring Gardens'.

In the middle of the nineteenth centurySir William Davies, a solicitor,lived in one of these houses.

Born into a humble family in Prendergast, Haverfordwest, William's father died while he was still young, leaving him andhis motherin extreme poverty.

William was educated in Parson Brown's School in Haverfordwest, leaving when he was fourteen to become articled to his uncle, William Rees, a local solicitor.

When William Davies qualified as a solicitor hemoved to Bristol, where a wealthy relative had left him a legacy.

In 1849, he married his cousin, Miss Martha Morganand they settled in Haverfordwest.They had seven children but, in 1872, Mrs Davies died. Two years later, when he was fifty three, William marriedher sister.

The laws of this country forbade a brother-in-law and sister-in-law from marrying, sothe wedding took placeabroad.

Eventually,a son, Hillard, was born. William Davies'slaw firm prospered and he was said to draw an annual salary of 4,000 a year. Thirty legal clerks were employed by the business and its activities expanded to money-lending and banking.

Master Mariners, farmers, ministers of religion, even servant girls deposited money with the 'Lawyer Banker' of Spring gardens, who was reputed to be fabulously wealthy. Apart from his Barn Street home he owned property in Scoveston and Broad Haven,wielding considerableinfluence and power in the area.

Twice William Davies was Mayor of Haverfordwest, three times he defeated Sir Charles Phillips of Picton Castle, becoming Liberal Member of Parliament for Pembrokeshire, a tremendous victory at a time when birth and privilege held sway.

A Deputy Lieutenant of the county and a trustee of the Sir John Perrot Charity, William Davies never forgot the plight of the poor, giving generously from his own coffers to the poor of the town each New Year's Day.

In 1893, William Davies, the son of a poor thatcher, was knighted. Endearingly he erected a cottage on the site of his childhood home.

Disaster appeared in 1895, in the form of bankruptcy, just at the moment when Sir William should have been enjoying his achievements. Within a few months he was dead, a broken man, though the cause of death was given as an abscess on the kidneys.

Sir Williamwas buried in Machpelah Cemetery, Haverfordwest.

The local paper voiced the sentiments of many when it saidSir Williamhad been an honourable man: the greatest charge that could be laid against him was misfortune.

Time mellowed the feelings of those who had lost their moneyand Sir William was remembered in the town as a good man.