The Morlais Brook – part 2

by Clive Thomas

From here in pre-industrial times the brook continued in its efforts to cut deeply into the country rock, passing  Cae Racca, the fields of the Hafod Farm and down into Cwm Rhyd y bedd. Unfortunately with the construction of the new Ivor Works in 1839, this area became the tipping ground of the thousands of tons of waste produced by the furnaces, forges and rolling mills. Over the next century the whole form of the land became radically altered with tip and railway embankment obscuring its course. It eventually emerged  into ‘The Cwm’, as a poor remnant of  its former self, passing in the mid-nineteenth  century the Dowlais  Old Brewery and Gellifaelog House on its way down to Gellifaelog Bridge. This had been built in the second half of the eighteenth century to carry the Abernant to Rhyd-y-blew turnpike Road and would eventually become the location which every local would know as ‘The Bont’.

The Nant Morlais flowing through ‘The Cwm’ in the 1940s. Photo courtesy of the Alan George Archive.
A map showing the Nant Morlais passing through the Bont and showing Gellifaelog House and Gellifaelog Bridge

A little below here, it had its junction with Nant Dowlais on the banks of which the first Dowlais furnace had been constructed in 1759. Two centuries later, in the 1960’s with the building of the Heads of the Valleys Road and the general landscaping of the 1980’s the stream’s way through the ‘Cwm’ was again changed quite comprehensively,  although shrub and tree planting rendered the valley more aesthetically pleasing. Unfortunately, it is only the archive map or faint ancient photographs which now help inform us of its rich and varied history.

Site of confluence of the Morlais and Dowlais Brooks. The old turnpike road went to the left, crossing the Morlais at Gellifaelog Bridge. The New Road was originally one of the railway inclines of the Dowlais Works. Photo Clive Thomas

Before being confined to its anonymous, culverted bed, the brook’s surface course from The Bont was once again encroached upon by massive tipping from the Dowlais Ironworks. On the opposite bank, once the fields of Gellifaelog and Gwaunfarren Farms, what was to become Penydarren High Street would be established. This ribbon development of dwellings, shops and places of worship was constructed above the steep valley side here and would eventually form a fundamental link between the growing settlements of Merthyr Tydfil and Dowlais. As early as  1811 though,  I.G. Wood’ s print of the Penydarren Ironworks shows our mountain cataract to be already much altered, confined and despoiled by the growth of that iron manufactory. Today, the location is completely transformed from the area of desolation we knew in the 1960’s and ‘70’s. It is landscaped, green and partly wooded but it is a great pity the planners could not have given it a more inspirational name than Newlands Park.

The Morlais Brook flowing behind Penydarren High Street in the 1940s. Photo courtesy of the Alan George Archive

Below the site of the works its course altered a little again and helped define that spur of high ground the Romans had chosen, probably in the early second century AD as the site for one of their forts. I am sure these ancient invaders would have had no inkling of the iniquities that men of later centuries would perpetrate on the stream and landscape hereabouts. Today, Nant Morlais  reveals itself only briefly to the rear of the Theatre Royal and Trevithick memorial before disappearing at Pontmorlais, the location of another of those early turnpike bridges.

An 1851 map showing the course of the Morlais Brook through Pontmorlais
The Morlais Brook at Pontmorlais in the 1940s. Wesley Chapel is in the background. Photo courtesy of the Alan George Archive

Hidden behind the buildings of the town’s Upper High Street there is one final reminder of the stream’s rural and unsullied past. Mill Lane, more recently the rather secret location of Mr. Fred Bray’s sweet factory, is the site of a water mill where our agricultural forefathers ground the corn grown in the fields of the local farms.

A map from the 1860s showing the old mill.

Whilst the old buildings and general dereliction which not so long ago framed the stream’s last few hundred metres have long disappeared and been replaced by car parking and civic buildings, a large portion of Abermorlais Tip remains to mark the point where the waters of  Nant Morlais coalesce with those of the parent Taf. Although partly confined to a subterranean existence, through the more recent efforts of Man, ‘The Stinky’ has been able to rid itself of the foul and fetid mantle of its past.

Where it all ends. The confluence of the Morlais with the Taf. Photo Clive Thomas

In Search of the Dowlais Railway

by Victoria Owens

When the Taff Vale Railway between Merthyr Tydfil and Cardiff received its authorisation in 1836, the Act gave the Railway Company leave to construct a branch to the tramroad at Dowlais. For various reasons, the Railway Company procrastinated over the work, with the result that the Dowlais Iron Company eventually took responsibility for making the Branch themselves. The terms of the 1849 Dowlais Railway Act authorised them to build not only the line, but also a passenger station, situated close both to the Iron Works’ lower entrance gate and the Merthyr-Abergavenny road.

Sir John Guest

Although the 1849 Act allowed the Iron Company five years to complete the railway, it was in fact ready in three. Financed by Sir John Guest, MP for Merthyr Tydfil, promoter of the TVR and soon to be sole partner in the Dowlais Iron Works, at a mile and sixty-eight chains in length, the steep gradient of its route up Twynyrodyn Hill meant that its lower part operated as an inclined plane. The Newcastle firm of R & A Hawthorn designed a stationary engine capable of drawing trains of up to six carriages in length and 33 tons in weight over s distance of 70 chains and 30 links, up the 1 in 12 slope. It had two horizontal cylinders of 18 inch diameter and 24 inch stroke and worked at 50 strokes per minute. The steam pressure was 30 lbs psi.

Viewing its erection in March 1851, a local newspaper drily enquired whether in ten years’ time, a ‘chronicler of local events’ might have reason to report the completion of a notional line ‘from Dowlais to the extreme point of Anglesey.’

Modest it might be, but at the Dowlais Railway’s official opening in August 1851, Royalty graced the ceremony. Three days before the event, just as Sir John and his wife Charlotte were about the set off on a carriage drive, the horse-omnibus drew up outside their home, Dowlais House, bringing Charlotte’s cousin Henry Layard, known as ‘Layard of Nineveh’ on the strength of his recent archaeological discoveries in Assyria, and with him, his friend Nawab Ekbaled Dowleh, whom the newspapers called the ‘ex-King of Oude.’

With the help of Works Manager John Evans, Charlotte organised every stage in the celebration, from welcoming a party of Taff Vale Directors who had travelled down from Cardiff for the occasion, to pairing up her ten children to walk in the procession: ‘viz. Ivor and Maria; Merthyr bach and Katherine; Montague and Enid; Geraint [Augustus] and Constance; Arthur and little Blanche.’ Flanked, probably as much for show as for protection, by the local police, they made their way to the station, decked with greenery for the occasion, with the school-children and company agents following. The ‘trade of Merthyr and Dowlais’ joined them along the way, all to the accompaniment of music from the combined bands of Cyfarthfa and Dowlais.

An 1880 map of Merthyr and Dowlais showing the Dowlais Railway – shown in red from top right to bottom left

From Dowlais station, the passengers travelled to the top of the incline where their locomotive was uncoupled. Messrs. Hawthorn’s engine lowered the carriages down the slope, and the intrepid travellers made their way on to Merthyr. Some of them chose to continue by TVR to Abercynon, but the Guests and their visitors preferred to return to Dowlais.

Later in the day, a ‘small party comprising about five hundred ladies and gentlemen’ enjoyed a sumptuous meal at the Iron company’s Ivor Works, to be followed by speeches and dancing. Sir John, whose health was none too good, left the festivities early but Charlotte remained on hand to propose the healths the Directors of the Taff Vale railway and to open the dancing with Rhondda coal owner David William James as her partner. With Layard as his interpreter, the Nawab set the seal upon the day’s pleasures by expressing his delight at the hospitality that he had received in Dowlais and asserting that he had never enjoyed himself so much as he had during his ‘brief sojourn’ in Wales.

Although Sir John envisaged the Dowlais Branch primarily as a mineral line, he seems to have been perfectly happy with the requirement that it should also accommodate passenger traffic. Records indicate that over 1853,it came in for usage by 755 first class, 1884 second class and 7253 third class passengers but, sad to say, disaster struck at the end of the year. December 1853 witnessed an ugly accident when a passenger carriage over-ran the scotches to hurtle down the Incline unchecked and two passengers lost their lives, with five more suffering serious injuries. Officially speaking, passenger traffic on the railway ceased in 1854.

Unofficially, as Merthyr Tydfil writer Leo Davies would explain, it was usually possible – given a combination of unscrupulousness and agility- to obtain a lift. In an article of 1996, he described the whole unorthodox procedure in graphic detail. Access was obtained via the wingwall of a bridge and through some railings. The sound of the hawser gave advance warning of the approach of a train on the incline – ‘four ballast trucks, each half-filled with sand.’ Travelling typically at ‘a nice, sedate trotting pace’ there was evidently ample scope for the non-paying passenger to grasp the outside rim of the buffer, and ‘swing both legs up and around the buffer spring housing.’

An aerial view of the Twynyrodyn area. The Keir Hardie Estate is being built to the left and the route of the Dowlais Railway can clearly be seen running vertically in the photo. Twynyrodyn School is visible middle right. Photo courtesy of the Alan George Archive

The Dowlais Railway closed finally in 1930 and the trackbed would be filled in sixteen or so year later, over 1946-7. In the 1990s, when Leo Davies reminisced about the ‘Inky’ as he fondly calls it, the ‘straight, green, grass grown strip of land’ ascending Twynyrodyn Hill remained visible. Perhaps, with the eye of knowledge or faith it remains so. Admittedly, former pupils of Twynyrodyn School remember the old line’s route, but without local knowledge it is not easy to trace. Only a few yards of broad green path survive to mark the site – perhaps – of the old trackbed and the name ‘Incline Top’ given to a hamlet at the edge of a plateau of rough ground extending towards Dowlais and its great Ironworks commemorate the location of Sir John Guest’s last great enterprise.

Sign for Incline Top, photographed May 2019

Merthyr Memories: Memories of Dowlais – part 1

by “Sarnws”

If only I could sleep just for one night, in winter, in the front bedroom of the house which now stands where my grandfather’s did, in Church Row in Dowlais, nearly on the corner of Ivor Street, would I in that early morning reverie, half awake and half asleep, hear the frost hardened paving stones ringing with the footsteps of hundreds and hundreds of men making their way to the Ivor Works and the trains taking them over Dowlais Top to the mines and coke ovens beyond?

Are too, the ghosts of women scurrying from the Tip Station along Station  Road and Church Row, past the Bonevitch’s shop,  to Dowlais Market, with a basket of merchandise  in the crook of each elbow to be seen?

Dowlais Market in the 1960’s. Photo courtesy of http://www.alangeorge.co.uk/index.htm

In those days when times were hard, “Daddy Thorn”, as he was known to the local children would come out of retirement as a sugar puller, and make a walking stick of “rock” for a birthday present.  This fuelled our activities as roller skating was a popular pastime, and Church Row was surfaced and as smooth as silk.  I can now admit to stealing grease from the axle boxes of the goods wagons parked opposite the Stables by the market for my roller skate wheels, as the statute of limitations applies, hopefully.

You could buy spare roller skate wheels from Atkins the ironmonger down the hill from the Co-op, and I often went there to buy “carbide” for my grandfather’s flame lamp.

Dowlais Library was, still is I think, just by the site of the Co-op, and even though I did not appreciate it at the time, was told  later that the librarian was so addicted to snuff that every book was so scented.

Atkins Shop and Dowlais Library. Photo courtesy of http://www.alangeorge.co.uk/index.htm

I would go to the Co-op to fetch pipe tobacco for my grandfather, which came in a foil sealed tin.  I still remember the aroma as the foil was peeled back.  One of the staff on the provision counter was a  Mr. Sheen, always in immaculate whites.  To see him boning out a side of bacon was a demonstration of skill. In those days bacon was not laid out ready, but cut on demand.  If it ran out you would patiently wait and look on as the Provisions hand fetched and boned another side.

The Co-op in Dowlais. Photo courtesy of http://www.alangeorge.co.uk/index.htm

If the “American Cheese” came to an end the provision hand would appear embracing a barrel shaped cheese weighing  fifty-six pounds, and cut it up with the wire cheese cutter. Everyone waited, with no complaints.

At the end of Mary Ann Street there stood a bakery which in summer would be open to the world, where real bread was baked.

In Dowlais market the stall always doing a roaring trade was the faggots and peas stall.  Traditionally most people would add a sprinkling of vinegar, probably to cut the richness of the faggots.

One regular vendor was the man selling corn ointment, who, to demonstrate the effectiveness of his treatment would stamp his highly polished black boots on the flagstones.

I was told of one old lady, a self appointed arbiter of the quality of poultry sold in the market, who never bought a bird, but would go from stall to stall prodding the breasts of the chicken on show with a hatpin. She would then pronounce on the quality of the merchandise.

An older colleague could remember the matriarch of a rather rough and ready family who on pay day would take the husband’s pay, go down to the market,  and buy and don a new apron. She would then gather up the hem to form a shopping bag, and do the weekly shop .  When the family had consumed her purchases, they went hungry ‘till the next pay day.

If the term “Disposable Income” had been common parlance then it would have had no relevance for the majority who survived from pay day to pay day.

Dowlais in the 1930’s. Photo courtesy of http://www.alangeorge.co.uk/index.htm

To be continued…….

Merthyr Memories: Merthyr’s Railways

by Kenneth Brewer

The railway has played an important part in Merthyr’s history, but also in my own personal history.

My earliest memory of the railway stems from the beginning of the Second World War when the evacuees arrived in Merthyr. Quite a number of them came to live in Abercanaid, and I remember them arriving at the old Abercanaid Station. I don’t remember any details however, as I was only a small child myself at the time.

Abercanaid Station. Photo courtesy of http://www.alangeorge.co.uk/index.htm

I have many more memories of Abercanaid Station – it is where we would start out on our annual holiday to stay with my father’s auntie at Castlemorton near Malvern. This wasn’t a straightforward journey – we started out in Abercanaid, changed at Quakers Yard, and again at Pontypool before catching the train to Malvern, and then a bus journey to Castlemorton. The great excitement of the journey was going over Crumlin Viaduct – it was so high and so rickety-looking there was always a sense of trepidation mixed in with the excitement.

My other childhood memory of Abercanaid Station was having to catch the train from there to Quakers Yard to go to school at Quakers Yard Technical School. After a while I came to realise that from where I lived in Pond Row, I could watch the train passing Rhydycar Junction, and if I ran like the clappers I could make it to Abercanaid Station in time to catch my train. Little did I realise in those days that I would end up working on the railway.

I started my career working on the railway in November 1952, and ended up working there for almost 50 years. I first started working at Merthyr Railway Station as a carriage oiler and greaser.

Merthyr Railway Station. Photo courtesy of http://www.alangeorge.co.uk/index.htm

The old Merthyr Station bears no resemblance to the small station we have today. Originally designed by Isambard Kingdom Brunel, by the 1950’s, Merthyr Station had five platforms and was covered by a huge glass roof. There were two waiting rooms (ladies and general), and also a refreshment room. There were many staff there, including the stationmaster and his clerk, four booking office clerks, two inspectors, seven or eight porters, Mrs Watley who announced the trains, and many others. I particularly remember Mrs Pritchard who was a cleaner – she lived to the grand old age of 106.

A plan of the old Merthyr Station

I left Merthyr Station to do my National Service, and having completed it, I went to work at Dowlais Caeharris Station. I trained as an examiner (or a wheel-tapper as it was called), and my job was to examine passenger rolling stock at Caeharris and Dowlais Central Stations, as well as freight rolling stock at the Ivor Works and the ICI Factory. Although much smaller than Merthyr, Caeharris was a very busy station, and in the time I worked there, there were four people in my department (Carriage & Wagon) as well as a stationmaster, booking clerk, two porters and four carriage cleaners.

Dowlais Caeharris Station. Photo courtesy of http://www.alangeorge.co.uk/index.htm

Whilst I was at Caeharris Station, Dr Richard Beeching, chairman of the British Railways Board, produced his report to streamline Britain’s railway system. This resulted in the closure of dozens of railway lines and hundreds of stations. Caeharris Station was one of the casualties, and Merthyr’s railway network was decimated. I returned to work at Merthyr Station, and one of my lasting memories of that time was catching the last goods train from Brecon to Merthyr – a very poignant occasion. Merthyr Station eventually closed to be replaced by a smaller building, and my job moved at that time from Merthyr to Pontypridd.

Looking back on the way the railways played such a pivotal role in Merthyr’s history, and thinking of the different lines and stations there were in the borough, it is sad to see what we have lost – all in the name of progress.

The Town that Died

Has anyone read R L Lee’s remarkable book ‘The Town that Died’? The town in question is Dowlais, and the book recounts his memories of growing up there.

Dowlais is not a bad place at all, but when you compare the town today to how it was – for a lot of people from cherished memories, for others, relying on photographs, you can see that the epithet is a just one.

Below is an excellent photograph of Dowlais taken in 1920’s from the mountain behind the Ironworks (the present day Goat Mill Road). You can see what a large and bustling it place it was. A lot of the more prominent buildings are numbered and identified beneath the photo.

1.      Gwernllwyn Chapel
2.      Hermon Chapel
3.      Shiloh Chapel
4.      Elizabeth Street Chapel
5.      Bryn Sion Chapel
6.      Dowlais Works
7.      Temple Buildings
8.      Ivor Works
9.      Elim-Tabernacle Chapel
10.    Oddfellows Hall
11.     Bethania Chapel

Almost everything in the photograph has gone. Of the buildings numbered above, only Bethania Chapel still remains.

The Town that Died indeed.