I lived in Pant and one of my earliest memories is the smell of baking bread from Jenkins’ bakehouse. I was often dispatched to get a loaf, which would still be warm. By the time I got home I would have eaten half the crust. Delicious, never tasted bread like it since.
I remember walking to school in the snow (to Cyfarthfa) as the buses wouldn’t be running. If Mr. Lee, a teacher who lived in Caeracca, could get there, then we were expected to as well.
The Castle Cinema on Saturday night. The last bus to Pant went at 10.30 so if it was a long film you had to choose between seeing the end or a long walk home.
On the same note, ABC minors and getting a bag of chips in newspaper on the way home.
Going shopping in Dowlais with my grandmother (when I was about 8 or 9) and it seeming to take hours as she knew everybody and stopped to talk. I was expected to stand still and not interrupt. Did hear some juicy bits of gossip though!
Happy days!!!
If you would like to submit an article for the ‘I Remember That’ series, please get in touch at merthyr.history@gmail.com
Nurse Olwen (Dolly) Davies of Gwladys Street, Pant, was a gentle lady who hid the strong determination that allowed her to complete 42 years of nursing – sometimes under the most trying conditions.
Dolly was born in 1904, and undertook her fever training at Heather Green Hospital, Lewisham in the 1920s, and subsequently her State Registered Nursing at Whipscross Hospital, London – a 600 bed Council Hospital.
She always felt it a pleasure to return to her home town, as dear old Tom Price, who worked at Pant Station greeted all the young people returning home to the village by name, giving each of them a warm handshake, and escorting them from the top to the lower platform for safety. In 1924, Dolly paid £1.8s for the return fare to London.
Dolly had decided to specialise in fever nursing. Fever nursing meant nursing all sorts of infectious diseases including diphtheria, measles, whooping cough, meningitis and T.B. cases.
She was very worried the first time she nursed a tracheotomy case – a small child. It required a constant watch on her small patient to prevent the tracheotomy tube slipping out or blocking; using a feather and bi-carbonate of soda solution helped keep the tube clear. Care was required that no injury occurred from their surroundings, as the child needed moistened air to relieve breathing difficulties. This was achieved by the use of two primus stoves, with steam kettles constantly on the boil, which required frequent filling to prevent them boiling dry. Water jugs were used as there was no water tap in the room. It proved a long hard, unforgettable night for her.
Later, Dolly was ward sister for 6 years at Paddington Hospital, London. During this time she was a reserve for the Queen Alexandra Nursing Corp. When war was declared in September 1939, she commenced 6 years service as a Captain. Her service covered North Africa, Germany, and France, with long periods of time being spent in ‘field hospitals’.
From Alexandria, Egypt, she was sent to Tobruk to bring back the wounded soldiers, but later, the patients were brought to them. One time she and her colleagues nursed a whole hospital of wounded German prisoners. Dolly always treated them no differently to our own men.
After 4 years service, she was given four weeks leave at the Crickhowell Camp near Abergavenny, before being sent back to Normandy in the aftermath of the D-Day Landings, to commence the long trek across France, Belgium and Holland. Whilst in Holland she and her fellow nurses were told to prepare to go into a concentration camp – they were one of the first medical teams to go into the infamous Belsen Camp.
They were warned what to expect, and told not to allow the sights they would see affect them, or to make a nuisance of themselves by being ill, but to be proud, as many British people would be only too willing to do what they were about to undertake.
For her war service, she was awarded the following medals: the 1939-45 Campaign Medal, the Victory Medal, the Africa Star, the France and Germany Star, and the Defence Medal.
After the War, she spent two years at Merthyr General Hospital as a ward sister, having to ‘live in’ at the hospital. The nurses were called from bed to attend patients admitted during the night, and were still expected to carry on working their normal shift the next day. She later became a district nurse to enable her to devote more time to her ill father.
To mark 121st anniversary of the start of the Second Boer War, this article is a rewrite and update on Merthyr’s Boer War Memorial that was first published as part of an essay on Thomastown Park in Volume Twelve of the Merthyr Historian in 2001.
2001 was the 100th anniversary of the construction of Thomastown Park and the war memorial will reach its 116th anniversary in September this year.
Situated in the ‘western’ park the memorial is unique as the first memorial to Merthyr’s menfolk who gave their lives in the service of their country.
The Second Boer War
The Second Boer War was fought from 11 October 1899 to 31 May 1902 and was the first British conflict that depended heavily upon volunteers to boost the small and heavily stretched established army. The war under conventional terms of fighting between formed armies was over by June 1900. A guerrilla phase followed in which the worst aspects of warfare such as scorched earth actions and concentration camps were to inflict severe hardship and suffering upon the Boer people. The war was concluded at the peace of Vereeniging in May 1902.
An indication that the war was over in all but name was that some four months before the signing of the peace treaty prominent Merthyr townsfolk were planning a memorial to those that had died in the service of their Queen, King and Country.
Memorial Committee
At a public meeting held on the 17 January 1902, a resolution was passed that a suitable memorial to perpetuate the memory of former townsmen who had fallen in the war in South Africa be erected. An application for consent of the Council to erect a memorial on the Recreation Ground, later known as Thomastown Park, was made by the secretary of the Committee, Mr W. T. Jones. Mr Jones of 25, Tudor Terrace, Merthyr Tydfil was an accountant practising from offices at 50 High Street. His letter of application, dated 22 January was read at the Council meeting on the 5 February 1902 and was granted subject to a suitable site being available.
Chairman of the committee was Dr. C. Biddle and the vice-chairman was Mr. William Griffiths, High Constable of Merthyr Tydfil, and over the next two years the committee set out to raise the funds to build and erect the memorial.
Fund Raising
The overall cost of the memorial was £300, the majority of which was got by public subscription. Fund raising was slow and by the spring of 1904 was somewhat off the fund’s target. At which time the Police, Yeomanry and Volunteers came forward offering to organise an assault at arms and concert at the Drill Hall, Merthyr.
The event held on the night of Wednesday 11 May 1904 was well attended and raised £75 towards the memorial. The evening’s proceedings demonstrated the strong military background of members of the police force and the overall strength of support towards the erection of a memorial to the men that had died in the war.
The District Council, at a total cost of £123 carried out the foundation work for the memorial. They presented an account for the work, less the Council’s contribution of £25 towards the memorial, in the November following the unveiling ceremony.
The Memorial
The site chosen for the memorial was in the western park on the Thomastown Tips overlooking the town and with the memorial’s overall height of thirty five-foot it is clearly visible from the town below. (George) Washington Morgan, a local sculptor and monumental mason of Penyard House, was commissioned to design and build the memorial. Built from Aberdeen granite in the shape of an obelisk, fifteen feet tall, standing on a pedestal carved from the same material the memorial stands on a foundation designed by Mr C M Davies and Mr T F Harvey, District Council surveyor. The foundation comprises a Pennant stone base twelve feet square upon which the granite pedestal rests. The base surrounded by kerb and railing stands on a grass clod embankment giving added height to the memorial. Application had been made to the War Office to have two South African guns to place each side of the obelisk but without success.
Thomastown Recreation Ground in the 1920s. Photo courtesy of Carl Llewellyn
The pillar has a wreath carved just above the front of the Pedestal, under which is the motto ‘Gwell Angau na Chywilydd’, (Better Death than Dishonour). On the front of the four faces of the pedestal is carved the words ‘A tribute to Merthyr men who died in the South African war, 1899-1902.’ The other three sides contain the forty-two names of ‘Merthyr’ men who died in the war:
Charles M Jenkins, Thorneycroft’s Mounted Infantry
Trooper John Gray, 18th Hussars
Trooper Dominick Dasey, 19th Hussars
Gunner Thomas Williams, Field Artillery
Thomas W Davies, Imperial, Yeomanry
Trooper Evan J Williams, Imperial Yeomanry
Trooper Caradoc I Evans, Protectorate Regiment
Arthur J Jenkins, Grenadier Guards
Evan Evans, Welsh Fusiliers
Frederick Barnett, Welsh Fusiliers
John J Davies, Welsh Fusiliers
Edwin Mansell, South Wales Borderers
William Reardon, South Wales Borderers
William Lewis, South Wales Borderers
David J Moses, South Wales Borderers
J Walsh, South Wales Borderers
Edward Davies, South Wales Borderers
John Rees, South Wales Borderers
Edward Owens, South Wales Borderers
Daniel Sullivan, South Wales Borderers
Sydney Rees, South Wales Borderers
Thomas Davies, South Wales Borderers
William James, South Wales Borderers
Edwin Jones, South Wales Borderers
William Wayt, South Wales Borderers
Michael Flynn, South Wales Borderers
Thomas Fouhy, Welsh Regiment
Timothy O’Shea, Welsh Regiment
Dennis Donovan, Welsh Regiment
Samuel Thomas, Welsh Regiment
Henry Pollard, Welsh Regiment
Cornelius Mahoney, Welsh Regiment
Henry Davies, Welsh Regiment
Morgan Roberts, Welsh Regiment
Thomas Rule, Welsh Regiment
Lewis Williams, Welsh Regiment
John M Ball, Welsh Regiment
John Hayes, Welsh Regiment
Samuel Broadstock, Gloucester Regiment
Patrick Cronin, Manchester Regiment
Daniel Jones, Imperial Light Infantry
William F Howell, R.A.M.C.
Lieutenant C. M. Jenkins was the son of Thomas Jenkins J.P., farmer, of Pantscallog House, Pant. Charles was a railway engineer and had been living in the Transvaal for eleven years before he enlisted in Major Thornycroft’s Imperial Mounted Infantry in October 1899; “All my pals are in it, and I must take a hand as well”. Charles was killed at the battle of Colenso, Natal, on 15 December 1899, aged 32 years old.
The Unveiling Ceremony
After strenuous fund raising the memorial was complete and ready for its official unveiling on Thursday afternoon, 8 September 1904. In keeping with military tradition the ceremony was planned to precision and comprised both military parade and music. On the week leading up to the ceremony plans of the ground showing the entrance gates to be used by the various participating groups was on display in prominent office and shop windows about the town.
The ceremony must have looked most impressive with some six hundred officers and men of the volunteer detachments, South Wales Borderers, of Cefn Coed, Dowlais, Merthyr Tydfil and Merthyr Vale and the Glamorgan Yeomanry. Witnessing the event was a large assembly of the general public under the supervision of the local police. Lord Windsor, in his capacity of Lord Lieutenant of Glamorgan, accompanied by Mr Forest, Deputy Lieutenant, Mr. W. W. Meredith, High Constable, and Mr. J. M. Berry, Chairman of the Public Works Committee, arrived at the recreation ground in a brougham. Lord Windsor was met at the entrance of the gates to the ground by the Memorial Committee and was afforded the honour of a guard of one hundred men under the command of Lieutenant D. C. Harris, Merthyr Tydfil Volunteer detachment of the South Wales Borderers.
After speeches from both the High Constable and Dr. Biddle the buglers of the 3rd Volunteer Battalion Welsh Regiment sounded ‘The Last Post’. Lord Windsor then unveiled the obelisk to great applause and after an appropriate speech concluded by asking Councillor J. M. Berry to accept the memorial on behalf of the Parish of Merthyr. Councillor Berry accepted the monument and assured Lord Windsor and subscribers that the town would do its utmost to keep it as a sacred trust.
The memorial still stands but is in much need of repair and refurbishment.
Mildred Lewis, known as the ‘Welsh Nightingale’ due to her beautiful soprano voice, was born in 1911 in White Street, Dowlais. Her voice was trained to perfection under the tuition of the well-known musician W. J. Watkins, and his advice helped form her singing career.
Her father, a miner in Fochriw, sang with the Dowlais Male Voice Choir, and both her mother and brother, Gilbert, were gifted singers. Living in this environment, she was taught to read music as a child, but Mildred had little formal schooling due to contracting Tubercular Hip at the age of five. She walked with the aid of sticks for the rest of her life, but it never stopped her singing at the ‘Penny Readings’ or the Eisteddfodau.
Whilst competing at the City Hall, Cardiff, she was heard by Mae Jones, Head of Variety at the BBC, and was invited to sing for them, performing on a regular basis for many years, at one time singing with Kathleen Ferrier. She also won the National Eisteddfod in 1938.
Mildred married steel worker Gwynne Lewis in 1935. Many musical evenings were held at her home at Francis Terrace, Pant, when many friends joined her, and the late Glynne Jones, Musical Director of the Pendyrus Male Choir would often accompany their singing.
As a member of E.N.S.A. (Entertainments National Service Association), she travelled around Britain during the Second World War, helping boost the morale of the troops. After the war, she took a job at Teddington’s Factory, and following the death of her husband in 1958, she lived alone for two years until her niece, Dyfanwen, moved in with her following the early death of her parents.
Mildred spent her later years at Ty Bryn Sion, and, when well enough, continued to sing at local chapels. She passed away in August 1993.
It was not until September 1968 that I first became acquainted with ‘The Stinky’, the name given to the Morlais Brook by past generations of children and adults who lived along its banks.
Not being a Merthyr boy I was really unaware of its existence, let alone details of its course and history. Where I lived in Troedyrhiw we had the River Taf across the fields of Bill Jones’ farm and our only brook was an old Hill’s Plymouth Collieries’ watercourse which drained numerous disused mountainside coal levels. Despite its origins, the water was clear and clean, drinkable, dammed in the summer holidays, paddled and bathed in. When bored or just at a loose end we raced empty Bondman tobacco tins along its course, running to keep up with the flow and ensure that our own particular tin wasn’t held up by a fallen branch or trapped in an inconvenient eddy. On first encounter I couldn’t imagine any of those activities taking place along ‘The Stinky’ and my initial observations confirmed that its local name was not in any way exaggerated. Indeed, the name appropriately characterised some of its more sinister and less praiseworthy qualities.
The stretch I first got to know was, what a student of physical geography would term, the stream’s ‘Old Age’, that is the portion towards the end of its life. Indeed, one might say at its very death, for union with the parent Taf was imminent and in 1968 the confluence of the two was observable, not as now concealed beneath a highway and pedestrian pathway. To the south of the stream were some of the streets and courtways of the town, many of which were derelict and already marked as candidates for slum clearance. Within two or three years these would be swept away. Rising up from its northern bank was the huge tip of waste produced over a century earlier by the Penydarren Ironworks, its industrial waste concealed for the most part by surprisingly lush vegetation. The British Tip, as it was sometimes known, took its name from the British and Foreign Bible Society, founders of the academy which graced its summit. On its plateau top was a once grand construction, a building of a century’s age but which in many respects had seen better times. Abermorlais, the school’s official name, was most appropriate, as it proclaimed its location, at the union of Taf and Nant Morlais. Unfortunately, there was to be seen no evidence in the stream here of a course well run, more confirmation of ill use, where Sixties’ waste and detritus continued to be added to over a century’s massive abuse. A sad end indeed to what no doubt had once been in pre-industrial times a clear and unspoilt mountain stream.
A map from the 1860s showing the Morlais Brook (flowing East to West) entering the Taff (flowing North to South). Abermorlais School is shown overlooking the scene.
Perhaps though, to gain a more comprehensive appreciation of the stream’s course, it is probably better to follow the guidance of another Thomas, and “begin at the beginning”.
Nant Morlais forms from numerous small tributaries on the slopes of Twynau Gwynion and Cefnyr Ystrad on the 560 metre contour above Pantysgallog and Dowlais. In a distance of seven and a half kilometres it descends 440 metres to its confluence with the Taf. It’s not easy walking country with the gently dipping beds of Millstone grit overlying the Carboniferous Limestone. The surface is rough with ankle breaking rocks and many sink holes to topple into. Among many, but by far the largest of these is Pwll Morlais, a deep and supreme example of what happens where the underlying Limestone has been eroded and the grit collapses into the void. Depending on the season this can be a steep sided, empty peat banked hole or after heavy rain, full to overflowing with a brew of brown froth. The song of the skylark can be enjoyed here on a fine summer day but it is also a solitary place, disconcerting or eerie even, when mist or low cloud descends and the lone walker is surprised by the frantic cry of a disturbed snipe.
Pwll Morlais. Photo Clive Thomas
On a clear day the view to the south is the trough of the Taf Valley. Always viewed into the sun so never really clear, with only silhouettes, shadows and reflections to give a hint of detail. One wonders how different it would have looked when all of the works below would have been at their height?
From Pwll Morlais, the stream is called Tor-Gwyn by the Ordnance Survey, until its junction with another parallel tributary, and thereafter it becomes Nant Morlais proper. The stream’s descent is gentle to begin with over the hard resistant gritstone. It is along this stretch that there is much evidence of the importance placed on the brook as a source of water power for the rapidly growing Dowlais Works during the early part of the nineteenth century. There are still the remains of sluices and numerous places where the course has been altered, or feeders led its water off to be stored in numerous hillside reservoirs.
Sluice where water was diverted from the stream into the Pitwellt Pond. Photo Clive Thomas
Where one of these diversions fed the extensive but now dry Pitwellt Pond above Pengarnddu, the Brook leaves the Millstone Grit and begins to cut a deep gorge into the softer Coal Measure rocks. From here there is more urgency in its flow, its course becomes narrower and more confined. At several locations it caused railway builders of the past to pause and consider the inconvenience of its course which would necessitate the construction of embankments and small bridges. The line which took limestone to the ironworks at Rhymney crossed hereabouts, as did the Brecon and Merthyr Railway on its way north over the Beacons and the London and North Western on its descent into Merthyr Tydfil via the ‘Miler’ or Morlais Tunnel.
The stream cuts down into some of the softer beds of the Coal Measures. Photo Clive Thomas
More significantly however, it is within this section of the stream that geologists have been able to discover some of the secrets of the South Wales Coalfield and probably many hundreds of school pupils, university students, and local amateur geologists will have benefitted from the instruction of teachers like Ron Gethin, Tom Sharpe or John Perkins. Like myself on many occasions I am sure, they have stumbled down its steep banks into the course of the stream below Blaen Morlais Farm in search of Gastriocerassubcranatum or Gastriocerascancellatum . Not valuable minerals these, but the important fossils which would indicate the location of one or other of the marine bands which were significant in determining the sequence of sedimentation of the rocks generally, and the coal seams in particular.
John Collins V.C., D.C.M., M.M. Plaque sited in the foyer of Cyfarthfa Castle Museum & Art Gallery Memorial Plinth in the grounds of St. Tydfil’s Church, Merthyr Tydfil
John Collins was born in West Hatch, Somerset in 1880 and came to Merthyr when he was about ten years old.
He fought in the Boer War and also served in India. In 1914 he joined the Welsh Regiment.
He won his Victoria Cross whilst serving in Palestine with the 25th Battalion, The Royal Welch Fusiliers. The citation states:
“…although isolated and under fire from snipers and guns, he showed throughout a magnificent example of initiative and fearlessness.”
Known as Jack the V.C., he died in 1951 and is buried in Pant Cemetery.
Following on (indirectly) from our last post, the news report transcribed below appeared in the Western Mail 145 years ago today (24 August 1874)
ACCIDENT ON THE BRECON AND MERTHYR RAILWAY
A STOKER KILLED AND A PASSENGER INJURED
On Saturday evening another accident occurred on the Brecon and Merthyr Railway, when the last evening train was wending its way from Brecon to Newport. At a quarter past six o’clock, just as the passenger train had approached Pant station at the point of junction which leads to the Dowlais branch, the engine, from some defect in the points or otherwise, left the rails, and, after an abrupt deviation towards the Dowlais branch, came to a standstill.
The stoker, on perceiving something wrong, either jumped off, or was violently thrown from the footplate of the engine. He was instantaneously killed. His name is John Price, of 26, Dolphin-street, Newport. The engine dragged after it one carriage, which appears to have become separated from the other portion of the train at the time of the accident, and in this carriage was a woman, named Elizabeth Jefferies, wife of a bailer at Ebbw Vale, whose leg was broken. The rear portion of the train passed for a short way along the main line. It contained a great many passengers, none of whom sustained injury. The injured woman was conveyed to the Bruce Hotel, Dowlais, where she received every treatment from Dr. Griffiths, of Dowlais. An inquest will be held on the deceased as soon, as practicable.
ANOTHER ACCOUNT (FROM OUR OWN CORRESPONDENT) MERTHYR, SUNDAY
This line seems fated to become notorious in the annals of accidents. The inquest has not yet been held over the remains of the victims of the last, when another occurs, and this time to a passenger train.
On Saturday evening the “4.30 passenger” from Brecon to Newport was arriving at the Pant Station, a little way from Dowlais, and where the main line to Newport forms a junction with the branch to Dowlais, when the locomotive suddenly left the metals, and a scene of wreck and disaster at once occurred. Though only 500 yards or so from the station, the pace of the train was rapid. I am not aware whether the carriages are furnished with continuous breaks, but I believe this is the case, and thus up to the closest vicinity of the station the pace is rapid. The locomotive kept exceedingly close to the metals, but it must be noted for future examination on the Pant side.
Some of the carriages were upset, and two of the passengers at least severely injured. One of them at the moment of the accident opened the carriage and jumped out and broke her leg. She was a very stout woman, and this case may be serious. One of the carriages was completely overturned, and the passengers thrown in a heap, but no bones were broken. The stoker, a young married man, named Price, aged 26, was thrown under the wheels of the locomotive and instantly killed. This was the only death, but the injuries received were numerous, though all but two managed to go on with the train.
The scene of the accident has been thronged, but only a heap of matchwood, the remains of one of the carriages, showed where the calamity took place.
It seems a difficult matter to account for the accident. Had the points been at “half”, precisely the same thing would have occurred, but in this case the points are worked from the signal box, and were locked at the time. It will be seen by the official inspector’s report that the first trace of leaving the metals is at the points, and the first blow on one of the fish-plates. Could the flange of the wheel have struck this at a critical place, the facing points just before or on a curve are extremely dangerous, and should be altered.
This is the first accident that has occurred in the locality, which is one of great archaeological interest. The place is called Pantcoed Ivor, and is so named from the redoubtable worthy who scaled Cardiff Castle and sorely grieved the doughty earls of Glamorgan in days of yore. Nearby is a hollow where he is traditionally supposed to have fought his last battle, and on the other side a place called Rhyd-y-bedd, which is associated with his burial. Here, then, by ancient wells, and amidst the moss and the ivy of the past, comes another railway disaster, and its scenic accompaniments, which, too often, alas, mar one of the noblest handmaids of civilization. Where Ivor Bach marched in battle array the locomotive sweeps, and trains of commerce and pleasure are rapidly brushing aside a locality which is only again brought into notice by this railway catastrophe.
Ivor Street in particular had a reputation for being generous to beggars, who in those days would just walk up the middle of the road, often silent, cap in hand, and the children would run in to tell their mothers, who in turn would spare a few coppers.
This was in the thirties. By now we had moved from “Merthyr” which generally describes Merthyr itself, Dowlais, Penydarren, Heolgerrig, Pant, Georgetown Twynyrodyn etc. One day I dashed in from the street, quite excited, to tell my mother that there was a beggar, cap in hand, walking down the middle of the road just chanting “Ho Hum, Ho Hum” repetitively. She was as excited as I was and in turn dashed out to put something in his hat. It was a link with “home”, for he was well known to her.
I remember that beggars were quite a common sight. My father in the very early nineteen hundreds, before going to work as an apprentice blacksmith, worked in Toomeys. He was paying in to the bank one day when a beggar who used to push himself around, mounted on a small flat trolley with the aid if two short sticks, was paying in. When he reached the counter, the clerk checking in not an insignificant amount asked if he had had a good day. The reply was, “Average”.
On a few occasions at about 8.30 pm on a Saturday there would be a message from one of the houses in Pontsarn or Pontsicill, to the effect that some friends had dropped in so would Mr. Toomey send up the brace of pheasants he had hanging. My father would be sent on the errand, having been given two-pence for the tram, and with the kind instruction that he needn’t come back.
Until the day she died, sadly quite young, if someone asked my mother when making her way to the train for her weekly visit, where she was going, the reply was always the same, “Home for the day”.
I remember my father, when on a visit to Merthyr when Grandparents and Aunts and Uncles were still there, showing me the Trevithick memorial in Pontmorlais, and being brought up with knowledge of the social and industrial heritage of “Merthyr” and its contribution to the world.
Is it possible when the light is just right that a mirage of the Coal Arch can be seen?
Does the glow from the Bessemer converter still light the night sky?
When I retired, thirty years ago I took the elderly aunt of a colleague to lunch in the Teapot Cafe at the end of the Station Arcade, which was the main exit from Brunel’s station. A lady came in with her husband, nodded to me and smiled. She turned to her husband and I could see her say, ”I know that gentleman”. I could not place her, and just nodded as we left.
A little while later I saw her again in the company of friends or family one of whom I knew. I was drawn into their company. The lady had been living on Orpington as teacher and then head teacher for thirty-five years, so had not encountered me in that time. It transpired that she remembered me from Dowlais school, fifty years before.
My son has a silver pocket watch and chain, given to me by my uncle, of the same christian name just before he died. It was bequeathed to him by an uncle, again of the same name. His aunt had it serviced for him by the clockmaker half way up the arcade. That must have been about 1920.
As you entered that clockmaker’s premises, facing you was a huge grandfather clock. Integral with the pendulum was a cylinder of mercury. This expanded and contracted with temperature change, compensating for the temperature variation in the length of the pendulum rod, seemingly so simple a concept, but how brilliant.
I was telling a colleague, who had been brought up in Dowlais, but previously unknown to me, that I could remember standing under the railway bridge at the end of Station Road, sheltering from the rain, and watching the Fish and Chip shop opposite, in Victoria Street I think, burning down. He turned and said that he had been there too. That had happened, I think, in the winter of 38/39. Thirty-five years or so before.
I have tooted the car horn many times on Johnny Owen, out for his morning run. I always got a wave of the hand in return. What a number of boxers and other sportspeople Merthyr has produced. The last years of my working life were in Merthyr, and being steeped in its history by my parents, it was interesting to encounter family names which were familiar to me, particularly the Spanish ones, as I was familiar with their family histories to some extent.
My parents are buried in Pant Cemetery, as are Grandparents, Aunts and Uncles, Cousins and more. Whenever I visit I cannot but drive around Dowlais, now much changed, but a place to which I am still drawn.
Except for one year, October ‘38 to September ‘39, when I attended Dowlais Junior School, and was a patient for three months in the childrens’ hospital which occupied the original Sandbrook House, I have not lived in Merthyr since I was a baby. When I was discharged from Sandbrook House I had been indoors for nearly the whole of my stay and insisted on riding up as far as the Hollybush Hotel on the open top deck of the tram. The era of the tram ended very shortly afterwards.
Sandbrook House. Photo courtesy of the Alan George Collection
I seem to have read or heard somewhere that nature has implanted within you a sacred and indissoluble attachment to the place of your birth and infant nurture, perhaps Tydfil’s martyrdom has created this aura about Merthyr which evokes such hiraeth.
Welcome to another new regular feature – Did you know? In this feature I hope to highlight some of the important facts about Merthyr that you may or may not have known.
Did you know that the man who built the very first Dalek for Doctor Who was from Merthyr?
Bill Roberts was born in 1918 in Gwladys Street in Pant. He attended Cyfarthfa Grammar School, but moved to Uxbridge in 1936. He enjoyed a career as an aircraft engineer, working for Miles Aircraft, before setting up his own company – Shawcraft Models.
In 1963, when the Daleks were originally conceived by Terry Nation for the first series of Doctor Who, the BBC commissioned designer Raymond Cusick to design them, but the job of actually building them was given to Bill Roberts who worked from Cusick’s blueprints.
Bill Roberts with one of his creations
If anyone has any interesting items for the new ‘Did you know?’ feature, please get in touch.
Nurse Olwen (Dolly) Davies of Gwladys Street, Pant, was a gentle lady who hid the strong determination that allowed her to complete 42 years of nursing – sometimes under the most trying conditions.
To mark 121st anniversary of the start of the Second Boer War, this article is a rewrite and update on Merthyr’s Boer War Memorial that was first published as part of an essay on Thomastown Park in Volume Twelve of the Merthyr Historian in 2001.
Mildred Lewis, known as the ‘Welsh Nightingale’ due to her beautiful soprano voice, was born in 1911 in White Street, Dowlais. Her voice was trained to perfection under the tuition of the well-known musician W. J. Watkins, and his advice helped form her singing career.
John Collins was born in West Hatch, Somerset in 1880 and came to Merthyr when he was about ten years old.
uncle, again of the same name. His aunt had it serviced for him by the clockmaker half way up the arcade. That must have been about 1920.
