From the Merthyr Express 80 years ago today….
British Restaurant at Cefn
Tag: Cefn Coed
The Railways of Romance – part2
The engines of the “Rhymney” Railway do not stand out clearly in my memory. I fear that, in my enthusiasm for the “Taff”, I never did justice to a line that dared to compete by taking folk to Cardiff. It had its advocates, however, and I recall that it was commended for an honest turn of speed. The “London North Western” also suffered the same injustice. In those days of restricted geographical knowledge we were unable to put the credit of the “London North Western” its importance on the way from London to Lancashire. As I remember it then, in its black coat and sleek contours, the “London North Western” engine carried an air of restraint and culture, suggesting, perhaps, an elegant curate. It came among us kindly, but it was never really of us.
But there was one engine that we classed apart from all others. It was the dear old “Brecon and Merthyr” in its faded coat of brown. What degree of precision that line has now acquired I do not know. Since those old days it may have grown meticulous, and, like the “Cambrian”, begun to sub-divide its breathless minutes. But in the period of which I speak nobody ever asked the “Brecon and Merthyr” to run to time. It was not even expected. People were, in the main, quite satisfied if it came in on the proper day. It had, no doubt, good reason for its tardiness; and when it arrived at last the general relief was so charged with fine emotion that pity and forgiveness floated easily to the top.
Looking back I am driven to believe that, for us small boys, the “Brecon and Merthyr” fulfilled a literary purpose quite outside the intentions of its directors. In that stage of literary taste we were, most of us, given to the assiduous study of Deadwood Dick and the whole fraternity of Canyon, Gulch and Bowie Knife. All our young romanticism, which otherwise might have hung loose in the air, centred about the “Brecon and Merthyr”. It was our stage-coach, moving through the terrors of the wild and woolly West. The other railways went through the civilized and ordered belts of Glamorgan; but the “Brecon and Merthyr” wound its way through lonely places in the frowning hills. When, long after the appointed time of arrival, it had not even been signalled, who knew that some “foul-play” had befallen it? Desperadoes might have sent it crashing into the lake at Dolygaer, or it might be that at Cefn masked men had boarded it, covering the driver with their “derringers”, while others looted whatever the guard’s van held as the equivalent of the gold nuggets of our literature.
Many of those who, in that long ago, kept with me the vigil of the trolleys are now staid citizens with small boys of their own. It may be that, with the hypocritical virtue of age, those old companions now chide their youngsters should they come home a little late, bringing with them a faint odour of fish and vegetables. But it may be, too, that if any of those little boys of former time chance to read what is here written they will temper paternal judgement with new mercy, for so they must do if they can remember the thrill of those dark winter evenings when, from that far romantic void, the “Brecon and Merthyr” came home at last – with driver and stoker lit by the glow of boiler-fires to the semblance of heroes more than mortal.
This article was transcribed from the book ‘The Legend of the Welsh’, an anthology of J. O. Francis’ writings published in 1924.
I would recommend anyone to try to track down a copy of the book – it’s a fantastic collection of some of the short works by one of Merthyr’s best, but sadly forgotten. writers.
The Execution of Dick Tamer – part 2
Continued from the last article…..
CONFESSION OF RICHARD EDWARDS.
In the early part of the week, the Culprit made the following statement to the Chaplain:-
“I was not alone when my mother came by her death There were three presents beside me. My child (10 months old), was in bed in the room. My mother died on Thursday night. When dead, two women placed my mother in bed beside my little boy, where the corpse remained until the Monday night following. The two other persons present, beside me and my wife, when my mother died, were the nearest relations of Peggy (my wife). Peggy and the other person had been in the womb of the other. These three persons told my father-in-law and my mother-in-law’s sister, that they had passed that night in Cefn Coed Cymmer. I gave my mother a blow about the jaw, because Peggy cried out that my mother was beating her. My mother fell down under my blow.
Peggy, her mother, and brother then laid hold on my mother. My mother did not speak; she groaned for some time. I saw Peggy and the other two squeezing her throat until she ceased groaning. I was in liquor: the three others were not. This happened about 12 or 1 o’clock, I cannot tell exactly, for there was no clock or watch there. And now, if Peggy had been allowed to be examined by me in the Hall, I would have made all this known then. Peggy asked me to bury her. I said I would not, I would leave her there, for I was afraid to be seen. I told them they had killed my mother. They begged me to keep everything secret. We all remained in the house till the dawn of day. I then went up to Dowlais, and the others returned home (to my father-in-law’s, as they say) and told their story about being at night at Coed y Cymmer.
I met my wife again about six o’clock the evening of the following Monday, at her aunt’s house, at Cae Draw (Jane Phillips’s) and we went together, the child in her arms, to my mother’s house. My wife placed the child in the opposite side of the bed to where my mother’s body was lying. We then together dragged the corpse out, and placed it under the bed. We continued to live in the house dining the rest of the week sleeping five nights in the bed under which the corpse lay! I was full of anxiety all the week, and on Saturday I started off the day my mother’s body was discovered, leaving my wife in my mother’s house. I was absent from Saturday until the following Wednesday, when I was apprehended in the Cast-House at Dyffryn, and wandering about.
I tell the best truth – the truth I should tell in the presence of God, where I shall he next Saturday – to you now. My blow did not kill my mother, for she groaned afterwards. Her death was caused by their meddling and scuffling with her on the ground. I know not exactly ill what manner. I mean Peggy, and her mother, and brother was scuffling with her. Neither of these three charged me at this time with having killed my mother. This is all true as I shall answer to God. I know nothing of the death of any other human being, male or female. If I did, I should confess it now, having gone so far. But I am guilty of every other sin or crime, excepting theft or murder. And now I have no more to say, having told the whole truth, and my heart is already feeling light. I began to feel lighter yesterday, when I determined and promised you to confess everything”.
The mark X of RICHARD EDWARDS.
The whole of the foregoing statement was read over in Welsh by Mr. Stacey, and explained to Richard Edwards, and signed with the mark by him in my presence, this 18th day of July 1842.
JNO. B. WOODS,
Governor of the County Gaol.
Harri Webb – Poet
by Malcolm Llywelyn
The poet Harri Webb was librarian at the Dowlais Library from 1954 until 1964 when he was appointed librarian at Mountain Ash. He was a prolific writer of poetry, prose and political commentary and he has been described as the ‘People’s Poet.’ He was active in politics with the local Labour Party when he became a friend of S.O. Davies. Disillusioned with the lack of support for the policy of self-government for Wales he left the Labour Party and rejoined Plaid Cymru in 1960.
Harri Webb was a radical Welsh Republican and a well-known colourful character, who took an interest in the local history of Merthyr Tydfil. He learned Welsh in his early adulthood and he adopted the Dowlais dialect of the language. He was one of the founders of the eisteddfod in Merthyr Tydfil and the chairman for three years. A ‘squat’ in Garthnewydd was the home of Harri Webb for some 12 years where he was joined by other patriots and the house became a centre for Nationalist activities in the town.
Merthyr Tydfil, its history and people feature in several of the poems written by Harri Webb. Written in 1959, the poem Big Night, describes ‘big nights out’ in the Church Tavern, Vaynor, illustrated by the last verse:
‘And homeward we were staggering
As the Pandy clock struck three
And the stars of the Plough went swaggering
From Vaynor to Pengarnddu’.
The poem, The Lamb was written in 1963, about the iconic public house frequented by Harri Webb and many other colourful characters of Merthyr Tydfil.
The Old Parish Churchyard was composed in 1965 and describes the scene in St Tydfil’s Parish Church.
Cwm Tâf Bridge, written in 1968, is a poem dedicated to Penri Williams, a resident of Cefn Coed, who worked in the water industry.
Merthyr 1972, was written in 1972 and commemorates the great names in the history of Merthyr Tydfil:
‘And now, in kinder times, an old man dies
And the great names that blazed above the strife –
Hardie, Penderyn, Richard – are spoken anew…’
It was written at the time of the death of S.O. Davies and the poem To the Memory of a Friend is Harri Webbs’s tribute to his old friend S.O.
Born in Sketty, Swansea in 1920, a ‘Swansea Jack,’ Harri Webb in ill-health, moved to a nursing home in Swansea in 1994, where he died in 1995.
Colli Iaith
Colli iaith a cholli urddas
Colli awen, colli barddas
Colli coron aur cymdeithas
Ac yn eu lle cael bratiaith fas.
Colli’r hen alawon persain
Colli tannau’r delyn gywrain
Colli’r corau’n diaspedain
Ac yn eu lle cael cleber brain.
Colli crefydd, colli enaid
Colli ffydd yr hen wroniaid
Colli popeth glan a thelaid
Ac yn eu lle cael baw a llaid.
Colli tir a cholli tyddyn
Colli Elan a Thryweryn
Colli Claerwen a Llanwddyn
A’n gwlad i gyd dan ddŵr llyn.
Cael yn ôl o borth marwolaeth
Cân a ffydd a bri yr heniaith
Cael yn ôl yr hen dreftadaeth
A Chymru’n dechrau ar ei hymdaith.
Harri Webb
Colli Iaith
Losing language and losing dignity
Losing muse and losing bardism
Losing the golden crown of society
And in its place a shallow debased language.
Losing the old sweet-sounding strains
Losing the resounding choirs
Losing the harp’s skilful strings
And in its place the clamour of crows.
Losing creed, losing soul
Losing the faith of the old brave people
Losing everything pure and beautiful
And in its place dirt and mud.
Losing land and losing small-holdings
Losing Elan and Tryweryn
Losing Claerwen and Llanwddyn
And the whole country beneath a lake’s water.
Getting back from the door of death
A song and faith and respect for the old languge
Getting back the old heritage
And Wales begins her own journey.
Colli Iiaith was written by Harri Webb in 1966 as his response to the by-election won by Gwynfor Evans in Carmarthen. It was the first parliamentary election won by Plaid Cymru by its president Gwynfor Evans. The tune for the song was composed by Meredydd Evans, although it is usually sung unaccompanied and has been made popular by the well known singer Heather Jones. It reflects the losses suffered by Wales under English rule, but ends with a defiant challenge to redeem the ancient language. The fourth verse of the song refers to the reservoirs Elan and Tryweryn, valleys drowned to supply water to Birmingham and Liverpool. Claerwen was the last dam built in Cwm Elan and the village of Llanwddyn was drowned under Llyn Efyrnwy to supply water to Liverpool City.
The song featured in the Green Desert, a performance and album of the poet’s work in 1972.
A Very Friendly Society
From the Merthyr Express 70 years ago today…
Merthyr’s Bridges: Pontyrhun, Troedyrhiw
by David Collier
Legend has it that the bridge over the river Taff in Troedyrhiw is located at the place where Tydfil’s brother Rhun was killed, in around the year 480, by Saxon or British pagans or a band of marauding Picts. It is commonly accepted that, thereafter, bridges constructed on this spot have been known by names which mean ‘Rhun’s Bridge’. These include Pontyrhun, Pontrhun and Pont-y-Rhun.
There is, however, a less colourful explanation for the name of this bridge. In his book ‘Bridges of Merthyr Tydfil’ W. L. Davies states that this ancient site is “the most natural and only location for a bridge crossing below the meeting of the two Taffs at Cefn Coed-y-cymmer”. It is, therefore, possible that the name of this bridge is derived from it being the FIRST bridge in the lower valley as suggested by ‘Pont yr Un’ (roughly translatable as ‘bridge one’) as printed on at least one early map.
The first known record of a bridge at this spot dates from the 1540’s when it would have been made of wood. Later replacements were of a stone arch construction but, by 1857, a wrought iron structure was in place. Disaster struck on 15 December 1878 when the foundations on the west bank were washed away.
This bridge was reconstructed in 1880 and remained in place with regular repairs and strengthening until 1945 when plans were prepared for a new bridge which was then completed. By the 1960’s it was apparent that this bridge was inadequate for the amount of traffic that it then carried and so on 3 October 1965 it was closed for 13 weeks whilst a new bridge, that remains in use to this day, was erected.
This article has been transcribed from the Friends of Saron web-page, and is used here with the kind permission of David Collier. To see the original article please see: https://friendsofsaron.wordpress.com/2020/08/24/pontyrhun-bridge-troedyrhiw/
Last Honour for Nazi Victim
by Terry Jones
Whilst doing some research, Terry came across a fascinating article in the Merthyr Express dated 23 June 1956. Here he has written his version of the story, and what better time to post it than day after we remember the fallen of both World Wars.
In 1937, due to the escalation of atrocities against Jewish people by the Nazi party in Germany, Stanley Baldwin, the Prime Minister, made a wireless appeal on behalf of Jewish children in Germany for British families to help them.
One of these children was 13 year old Edgar Adolf Fleischer, son of Herr Max Fleischer of Berlin. Young Edgar left his parents and embarked on one of the Kindertransport, eventually arriving in Britain in April 1938. Here he was adopted by Mr F Wallace-Hadrill, a house-master at Bromsgrove School.
A keen musician, amongst the meagre possessions that he was allowed to bring from Berlin, Edgar carried with him a small violin case, holding his most precious possession – a violin. He had actually taken a few lessons at the Berlin Conservatoire until the Nazi racial laws forbade Jews to receive such lessons. Upon arriving in Britain however, he once again pursued his musical ambitions.
With the outbreak of the Second World War, and as soon as he was old enough, Edgar wanted nothing more than to join the British armed forces and fight the hated Nazis. In 1944, having taking the necessary oaths of loyalty to Britain, and officially changing his name from Fleischer to Fletcher, he joined the Royal Army Service Corps, and soon rose to the rank of Sergeant, and was selected as a cadet for further training for a commission.
Before he could complete his training course, in the aftermath of the D-Day landings, he was posted to Normandy to reinforce the British Army’s campaign to liberate Europe.
In 1945, he returned to Britain to complete his training, the last stage of which took place at Rhayader in November 1945. With just two days until his commission was due, Edgar took part in the final exercise – an assault exercise on a steep hillside. As he reached the summit, he slipped on the shale and fell forward on to his Bren gun and was killed instantly when it discharged. The only positive from this was that he never lived to find out that both his parents had been murdered by the Nazis in one of the death camps.
Edgar Fletcher was buried with military honours at Cefn-Coed Jewish Cemetery on 24 November 1945. His headstone bears two inscriptions – one in Hebrew and one in English:
Hebrew: ‘O let his soul be bound up in the bond of life’,
English: ‘Who falling among friends shares their promised land’.
Dewi Bowen – A Tribute
by Mansell Richards
Earlier this year, on 16 June, Merthyr lost one of its great characters, and a huge champion of the town’s heritage, when Dewi Bowen passed away at the age of 93. Here his friend and former colleague, Mansell Richards pays tribute to the great man.
Dewi Bowen was a legend in his home village of Cefn-Coed, a legend at Cyfarthfa Castle School and a legend across the town of Merthyr Tydfil.
A naturally amusing man, he enjoyed making people laugh, whether passers-by in the street, his school pupils and their teachers – not forgetting headmasters – canteen ladies and caretakers, councillors and mayors. But he will be remembered mainly as a gifted artist and teacher. His imaginative artistic output was prodigious: his illustrations of scenes redolent of Merthyr and district’s rich and colourful history can be counted in their hundreds. It is no exaggeration to say that no individual over the decades contributed more to the heritage of this famous Welsh town.
Dewi was born on 7 August 1927 at number 87, High Street, Cefn-Coed-y-Cymmer (he loved to give his village its full title). From an early age he showed artistic talent which was nurtured at his beloved Vaynor and Penderyn Grammar School. In 1944 on leaving school at seventeen, he was directed to work as a coal miner for 2 years as part of the national war effort against Hitler’s Germany. This meant he had to postpone entry to art college. Dewi took pride in his years as a ‘Bevin boy’ at Elliot Colliery, New Tredegar and the Rock Colliery, Glynneath.
Indeed his memories of being a young miner never left him. Many of his detailed illustrations were based on his observations of those hard- working men who risked their lives daily in often dangerous conditions.
Similarly, he identified strongly with the soldier in both World Wars, but especially during the First World War. He never tired of telling of his father’s experience at Gallipoli and Mesopotamia, while his mother served as a nurse in both those wars. This strong affinity with the soldier never left him. Thus in later years, he joined a British Legion excursion to Flanders in order to be present at the unveiling of a sculptured red dragon monument at the site of the Battle of Mametz Wood, where thousands of Welshmen had been killed in 1916.
Dewi never refused work for charities. His cleverly designed, eye-catching posters, advertising fund-raising events appeared at local shops, pubs and libraries. Indeed, he and his scholarly brother Dr Elwyn Bowen MBE, to whom he was devoted, made a massive contribution toward necessary funding, estimated at tens of thousands of pounds, when the Urdd National Eisteddfod visited Merthyr in 1987.
Dewi rejoiced also in designing the scenery for the Cefn-Coed Operatic Society which flourished during the 1950s and, contributed greatly in this respect to the annual stage musicals and concerts performed by pupils and staff of Cyfarthfa High School, a school he served loyally for 30 years.
Continuing along the cultural path, his work was regularly exhibited at the National Eisteddfod of Wales, while he contributed to many heritage projects across Merthyr and other districts of South Wales.
He took a particular interest in the preservation of the Joseph Parry Birthplace Project which won the Prince of Wales award. He played a pivotal role in this success for his school. The visitor to 4, Chapel Row, Georgetown will see a beautifully inscribed stone plaque alongside its front door. Not only did Dewi purchase the block of dressed-stone out of his own pocket, but he lovingly carved the inscription, including the evocative words, ‘Joseph Parry, y bachgen bach o Ferthyr, erioed, erioed- Joseph Parry, a little boy from Merthyr , forever, forever’. This carved tablet will remain a monument to the creative talent of Dewi Bowen.
His final contribution to the Merthyr cultural scene was to provide the superb illustrations for a book on Merthyr place-names, compiled by Malcolm Llewelyn. Dewi was delighted to be invited as a guest to the book’s launch last year.
But let us return to his never-to-be-forgotten humour, which appealed to people of all ages. At Cyfarthfa School, some pupils with only limited talent were known to have opted for art, mostly for the pleasure of being taught by him. Several brought him regular small gifts of sweets, while one girl, aware of his liking for wimberry tart, presented him with one every autumn. He was, undoubtedly, one of Cyfarthfa School’s most popular teachers.
One story he liked to tell concerned a friendship he had at Cardiff College of Art with the beautiful future actress Anna Kashfi, who was later to marry the Hollywood star, Marlon Brando. When teased about this, Dewi replied ‘I never understood how she preferred Brando to Bowen!’
Dewi never owned a car, preferring to walk almost everywhere. He particularly loved walking holidays during his earlier years. He visited the Holy Land and parts of Russia. When asked why he loved walking so much, he replied. ‘If you’ve spent 3 days in an ancient bus crossing the Negev Desert in the company of 2 Arabs and 50 sheep, you too, would enjoy walking’.
On another occasion he accompanied a friend to see a Wales/England rugby match at Twickenham. With Wales snatching victory towards the end, Dewi insisted on joining the triumphant Welsh supporters on the famous pitch. He astonished his friend by asking for help in order to ascend one of the very high rugby posts. After climbing unsteadily onto his friend’s shoulders, they were both confronted by a London policeman, who turned to the friend with the instruction ‘put the gentleman down please sir’. Some yards away a group of Cyfarthfa sixth-formers were holding their sides with laughter.
Dewi loved music, especially light opera. He was a regular visitor to Cardiff theatres to enjoy Gilbert and Sullivan productions. He loved singing some of the songs in his distinctive sweet tenor voice, often when talking to friends on the telephone. Dewi would entertain at the drop of a hat.
But his greatest love was his family. He nursed his mother who lived to be a hundred during her final years, while his admiration for his brother Elwyn was profound. He received considerable love and support from his exceptionally loyal nieces, Ann and Elizabeth and sister-in-law Gwynfa, while he gained much joy from his young great nephews, Ewan and Llyr.
There can be no better epitaph to Dewi than in Shakespeare’s words:-
‘We shall not live to see his like again’.
Cefn Cemetery
by Carolyn Jacob
Cefn-Ffrwd is the largest Cemetery in the Borough covering approximately 40 acres.
In the nineteenth century burial was a huge problem here. In a hundred years Merthyr Tydfil grew from a Parish of just over 500 persons to the only large town in Wales with a population of over 50,000 in 1850. During the 1849 cholera outbreak there were over 1,000 deaths in one month alone. Infant mortality was high and other diseases such as smallpox and TB were rife. Not all the chapels and churches had their own burial ground and the responsibility for burial lay with the Parish Authorities.
In 1850 there were three Merthyr Tydfil Parish Burial Grounds, the Graveyard around St. Tydfil’s Church, the Cemetery in Twynyrodyn and the new so called ‘cholera’ Cemetery in Thomastown. Dowlais had two Parish cemeteries, St John’s Church and a small cholera cemetery near the Works. This was a time when cremation was unheard of, and these soon became inadequate.
The Board of Health, founded in 1850, took advantage of a new Act of 1852, which empowered them to set up Cemeteries and leased land in Breconshire to set up a new Cemetery. The Cemetery was managed by the Burial Board. The first burial took place on 16 April 1859. The Ffrwd portion of the Cemetery was added in 1905, the first burial being on 20 November 1905.
Average burials in the nineteenth century were around 400 annually. In 1878 the son of one of the gravediggers set fire to the ‘dead-house’ of the Cefn Cemetery and a report of 21 of December 1878 described the ‘unseemly behaviour’ of children frequently climbing about the monuments of the Cemetery. In 1902 when the road to Cardiff was widened a large section of the St Tydfil Graveyard was removed and the ‘remains’ were moved to Cefn Coed Cemetery. Those reburied included Charles Wood, who erected the first furnaces at Cyfarthfa.
Easter was a traditional time for ‘flowering the graves’ and a report in the Merthyr Express of 26 March 1916 records that:- ‘at Cefn Cemetery on Friday and Saturday, relatives of the dead attended from long distances to clean stones and plant flowers’.
Cefn Coed became a Municipal Cemetery for Merthyr Tydfil in 1905. Welsh Baptists were buried in unconsecrated ground and Roman Catholics in consecrated ground. There is a separate large Jewish Cemetery at Cefn Coed and there is an index to all the Jewish burials in Merthyr Tydfil Library.
There are many famous people buried in Cefn Coed Cemetery including:-
- Enoch Morrell, first Mayor of Merthyr Tydfil and the Welsh Miners Leader who had to negotiate the return to work after the General Strike.
- Redmond Coleman, the boxing champion of Wales at the beginning of the twentieth century.
- Adrian Stephens, inventor of the steam whistle.
Memories of Old Merthyr
We continue our serialisation of the memories of Merthyr in the 1830’s by an un-named correspondent to the Merthyr Express, courtesy of Michael Donovan.
Taking the Nantygwenith Road first, with the exception of one occupied by David Evans, the master carpenter at Cyfarthfa (father of the Thomas Evans whose brewery has been mentioned), there was not another right away up to the gatehouse of the Turnpike on the right hand side, but there were dwellings on the other (the left) side all the way, and persons who resided there who should be mentioned.
Before doing so, however, it may be proper to state what kind of scientific society met at the Dynevor Arms, and what was then called philosophical instruments, made by W. and S. Jones, of High Holborn, kept there in the meeting room. Amongst other things attempted was the formation of a duck, which it was reputed they nearly accomplished, but extravagancies aside I can from recollection say there were very good instruments there, one being a telescope of about five inches in diameter.
Notwithstanding much that was desirable for sanitary conditions, there was a good deal of intellectual activity, and if any exceeding strong temperance advocates, deride the statement he can be told of a somewhat analogous one held near Birmingham that was frequented by persons whose names are world known, to wit, James Watt, Priestley and the time of meeting as near as may be to others whose forethought went so far as to have the time of meeting as near as may be to full moon, and were called in consequence the Lunar Society. There are few of any offices that that do not today benefit from one or two of their meetings.
On the left, the corner house of the Aberdare and Nantygwenith Roads, a grocer’s shop was opened by Mr Beddoe, next was a “gin shop”, so called, subsequently kept by Mr Lewis Lewis, superintendent of the Dowlais Stables previously, and afterwards of Pontyrhun; a few cottages followed and then a road. It was up this, and on the first opening to the left the Rev David John, the Unitarian Minister, taught his pupils. He was, I think, a good Welsh scholar, but I am certain of him being a good mathematician. He Had three sons and one daughter, the eldest Mathew, some years after carrying on the iron foundry business in Bryant’s old brewery premises.
The upper corner of this road was the grocery establishment of a Mr Edward Roach. He was a fine powerful man, and they used to say that seeing a woman, with a child in her arms, pursued by a bull, he rushed out and boldly attacked it.
Next above was the Patriot Inn, kept by Mr William Howells. He had two daughters, the youngest of whom was wooed by Mr William Spiller, then travelling around the hills selling flour on behalf of himself and a Mr Browne. The flour was called “Spiller and Browne”. The latter name seems to have passed, but the former has developed into a ‘household word’ in the quality of their product, and extension of business at Cardiff. The firm Spiller and Browne was then at Bridgwater.
To be continued at a later date……