River Taff – Page 3 – The Melting Pot

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.

An extract from the 1851 Public Health Map showing the area in question

The first thing met would be another turnpike, then a few cottages; one was a public-house, next to which a space or front yard of the Plymouth Arms. On the right hand side for some distance a wall was the only thing between Bridge Street and the River Taff, but the weir not far down diverted its water into the feeder as it was called. The continuation of the river wall kept the road safe for traffic, until further down, after passing the Isle of Wight and the entrance to Caedraw at the end of Swan Street there really was not any protection. However, even that had some advantage, for a leading tradesman, in his evidence as to the sanitation of Merthyr, recommended the use of buckets and their discharge into the watercourse! Brilliant idea!

From the Plymouth Arms dwellings adjoined each other. One was the Duke of York Inn, whose money-box was ransacked in the lodge-room once, and the thief never detected.

A little lower was the Greyhound. The son of the person who had kept this was Mr Edward Lewis Richards, a barrister, who through its becoming known that he was a partner in a brewery there, did not receive the appointment he had hoped for, viz, the stipendiaryship of Merthyr; but got that of Judge of a North Wales County Court, and died at Mold many years ago. A Mrs Todd kept a grocer’s shop a little further on, and then small cottages continued awhile. The rectory was not built.

The end of Albert Street was only an entrance into the field now covered with buildings, and The Hollies was Mr Meyrick, the solicitor’s office. He resided at Gwaelodygarth, which was his own property.

After the death or removal of the Rev Mr Jones a Rev Thomas Williams officiated in the old church, and he resided between Swan and Salmon Streets on the left. It was an old house; it stood by itself, with its gable abutting the road alongside the feeder.

There were three or four bridges over the watercourse. The first was to the house and shop of the Williamses “over the pond” as they were known by. Old Mr Williams had been a veterinary man. His son kept an ironmonger’s shop there. One daughter became a Mrs Davies, another a Mrs David James, and another a Mrs Petherick. Another bridge lower down was to the slaughter-house and the Crawshay’s Arms adjoining; a third, at the end of Three Salmons Street led into Caedraw, and a fourth to the public house adjoining the road.

Just below were the ruins of the old grist mill, which formed an important factor in a lawsuit at one time, but which will be told with other things connected with it by-and-by.

We are now again at the end of Mill Street, with the stocks at its other end, and have completed a peregrination right around the chief part of “the village” as it then existed. Only the short roads have yet to be traversed, the one Quarry Row, and the other the Grawen, or Brecon Road, and after that we will go through Penydarren to Dowlais.

To be continued at a later date…….

Notes on the Merthyr Tydfil Tramroads – part 2

by Gwilym and John Griffiths

Cwm Cannaid Tramroad: We do not know when this tramroad was constructed. We would guess it was sometime around 1800-1814. Despite its name, the tramroad was built before the shaft of Cwm Cannaid Colliery was sunk. The track was shown clearly on the 1814 Ordnance Survey Map and on Robert Dawson’s 1832 Boundary Commission Map whereas the shafts of Cwm Cannaid Colliery were apparently sunk about 1845. The purpose of the tramroad was to relieve the inefficient old tub canal, or coal canal, sometimes called the Cyfarthfa Coal Canal, of the 1770s. The latter transported coal (and perhaps ironstone?) in two-ton tubs from levels (some suggested via dangerous leats) in Cwm Cannaid to Cyfarthfa Works: some say horse-drawn, others say hauled or pushed by men and women. The Cyfarthfa Coal Canal was closed around 1835, which gives an explanation of Cwm Cannaid Tramroad on Robert Dawson’s 1832 Boundary Commission Map.

The tramroad followed roughly the route of the old coal canal: the latter a twisting route, the former almost a straight line. It skirted Glyn Dyrys Ironstone Mine, a coal shaft below Lower Colliers Row, in front of Lower Colliers Row itself, Tir Wern Uchaf (where it crossed the canal twice), a link to Cwm y Glo Colliery and Ironstone Mine, Upper Colliers Row, Tir Heol Gerrig and hence to the coke ovens and yards above (to the west) of Cyfarthfa Works.

Lower Colliers Row. Photo courtesy of the Alan George Archive

When Cwm Cannaid Pit was sunk in 1845, that became the terminus of the system. The 1901 Ordnance Survey Map named it ‘Cwm Pit Railway’, and the line linking it to ‘Gethin Railway’ was labelled ‘railway in course of construction’. We saw the remnants of these mines, canal and tramroad in the 1940s and 1950s, and often walked the old canal embankment, by then well wooded.

A section of the 1901 Ordnance Survey Map showing the tramroad marked as ‘Cwm Pit Railway’. Lower Colliers Row and the old Cyfarthfa Canal are also shown.

Again, industrial despoliation was reverting to nature: delicious wild strawberries on the old waste tipping, a nightingale singing by the disused and reed-covered canal reservoir, woodcock and common snipe, pied flycatchers and wood warblers, and numerous other birds; with wild orchids amongst the damp marshy vegetation with dragon-flies, damsel-flies, glow-worms and water-boatmen. We doubt if this still exists in the coniferous plantations which replaced them all in more recent years.

Dowlais Tramroad: This was constructed about 1792-93 to connect Dowlais Works with Pont y Storehouse near the Glamorgan Canal terminus, roughly near present-day Jackson’s Bridge. It gave Dowlais Works access to the then ‘recently’ constructed Glamorgan Canal. The route may well have followed initially the Morlais Quarry Tramroad from Dowlais via Gelli Faelog, keeping to the Gelli Faelog side of Nant Morlais. The 1793 extension from this tramroad is today represented by the main road and high pavement from Trevithick Street down to Pont Morlais and thence via the tunnel, formerly a bridge, into Bethesda Street to Jackson’s Bridge. Did the Glamorgan Canal Company pay the £1,100 for the construction of the tramroad (and Jackson’s Bridge) in lieu of the proposed linking canal from Merthyr Tudful to Dowlais?

Bethesda Street in the 1950s. The car is parked on what was the where tramway exited the tunnel mentioned above and continued to the Glamorganshire Canal at Pontstorehouse. Photo courtesy of the Alan George Archive

Gethin Tramroad: This tramroad or railway linked Gethin Colliery (sunk between 1845 and 1849 and opened 1849) initially, and Castle Colliery later (1860s?), with Cyfarthfa Works, taking a route in between those of Cwm Cannaid Tramroad and Ynys Fach Tramroad. No tramroad was shown on the 1850 Tithe Map and Schedule. By 1886 the track left Castle Colliery, skirted the hillside west of the Glamorgan Canal between Furnace Row and Tir Pen Rhiw’r Onnen, through Gethin Colliery (with a link to pit-shaft No2), past Graig Cottage and a bridge over Nant Cannaid. At (the 1853) Cyfarthfa Crossing it curved northwestwards past Tir Wern Isaf and Tir Llwyn Celyn, looping under the 1868 Brecon and Merthyr Railway near Heol Gerrig, and thence to the coke yards.

Gethin Colliery. Photo courtesy of the Alan George Archive.

By 1886 the route was upgraded to the GWR and Rhymney Railway as far as the Cyfarthfa Crossing. The 1876 six-inch Ordnance Survey Map showed the terminus for the ‘cwbs’ at the rear of Cyfarthfa Works. The 1901 Ordnance Survey Map called it ‘Gethin Railway’. Our grandfather used the railway to get to work at Castle Colliery, and we regularly used this route (then upgraded to a full railway) in the 1940s and 1950s on our daily journeys to and from school at Quakers Yard. One of us was on the last train to use this line before the viaduct between Quakers yard and Pont y Gwaith was found to be unsafe.

Gyrnos Quarry Tramroad: This was used to bring limestone from Gyrnos Quarry (Graig y Gyrnos) alongside Tâf Fechan, past the limekilns and coal yards, over Afon Tâf by Pont Cafnau to Cyfarthfa Works. We have no details of dates, but walked the route many times in the 1950s in search of dippers, kingfishers, grey wagtails and the rest. It was the first tramroad recorded in the 1805 list of John Jones and William Llywelyn: 1 mile 106 yards to Cyfarthfa Furnaces and just over 1¾ miles to the new Ynys Fach Furnaces. In view of the size of the quarry, it must have transported many tons of material.

Bare Knuckles, White Ladies and Martyred Rebels: The Mythic Townscape of Merthyr Tydfil

by Gareth E Rees

The article below is copied, courtesy of Gareth E Rees from his website Unofficial Britain. To view the original article, please follow this link: http://www.unofficialbritain.com/bare-knuckles-white-ladies-and-martyred-rebels-the-mythic-townscape-of-merthyr-tydfil/

In the year leading up the (Not So) Great Pandemic, I was fortunate enough to take a trip around Wales, researching my book, Unofficial Britain on a sunny weekend in spring.

It was just me, my car and a smartphone. Plus some underpants. Clean ones, at that. No expense spared. Those were the days when you could buy pants on a whim, simply by walking into a clothes shop.

One of my aims of my trip was to explore the Brymbo steelworks near Wrexham, where my grandfather worked until his death in 1976, and where my uncle worked until the factory closed in 1990.

As I was to discover, the ruins of the Brymbo works are haunted by a bottom-pinching phantom steelworker and two black dogs, which I saw with my very own eyes, but that is a story you can read in the book when it comes out.

While I was in North Wales, I was accompanied to the secret mustard gas factory nestled in the Rhydymwyn Valley by Bobby Seal, who wrote about it for Unofficial Britain in 2015: The Valley Works: Mendelssohn, Mustard Gas and Memory.

On the second day of my mini-tour I drove to South Wales, stopping at Port Talbot to look at its still-functioning steelworks, where a monk is said to haunt the grounds of Tata Steel (more of that in my forthcoming book, too).

As I approached Cardiff, I decided on a detour to Merthyr Tydfil, once the great industrial centre of the British Empire, dominated by four ironworks: Plymouth, Penydarren, Dowlais and Cyfarthfa. By the 1830s, the latter two had become the largest in the world.

As iron made way for steel in the latter half of the 19^th century, the Ynysfach Ironwork closed. Its Coke ovens became a hub for the homeless, destitute and society’s outsiders. At the time is was considered a den of boozing, thievery and prostitution, but it may well have great place to hang out and – from the perspective of today – at least they could all be closer than 2 metres apart.

It was here where local bare knuckle fighter Redmond Coleman became locked in an epic battle with his rival, Tommy Lyons. The fight is said to have lasted over three hours, leaving both men flat out on the ground at the end, panting with exhaustion. It would have made the infamously long fist-fight scene in John Carpenter’s They Live seem like a minor playground scuffle. Redmond Coleman was so attached to the place that he later claimed his spirit would never leave Merthyr and instead would remain to haunt the Coke Ovens.

This form of afterlife was to be the fate of Mary Ann Rees. Alas, she had no choice in her decision to haunt Merthyr Tydfil. In 1908 she was murdered by her boyfriend, William Foy, whom she had followed into Merthyr on her final evening alive, suspecting him of sleeping with someone else. Her broken body was found in a disused furnace. Rees is considered to be the White Lady who today haunts the old engine house: a sad lady in a long, flowing dress.

The decline of the coal, iron and steel industries devastated Merthyr but it remained a hub for manufacturing. In the 20^th century the Hoover factory employed over 4,000 people, with its own sports teams, social clubs, fire brigade and library.

In 1985, Sir Clive Sinclair’s infamous C5 battery operated vehicle went into production at the factory. A local urban myth was that the motors for the CV were, in fact, repurposed Hoover washing motors. They created only 17,000 units before operation was shut down six months later.

The factory closed in 2009 and remains a quiet hulk by the Taff at the edge of the town. Across the road is a derelict car park, its tarmac crumbling, with moss and grass creeping across the last faded parking bay lines.

A majestic pylon inside the perimeter of the abandoned car park slings electricity over the factory to the other side of the valley, where its brethren have amassed on the hills in great numbers. Whatever has happened in the past century, power still pulses through the town, coursing through the veins of Wales.

The fall of the Hoover factory was another blow to the economically stricken town, which might have lost its role in the world, but keeps its story alive in public artworks that I saw on my journey.

The past is never far away when you walk through Merthyr, a townscape saturated in industrial lore.

… Near St. Tydfil’s Church is an ornate drinking fountain on a raised plinth. It commemorates the pioneers of the South Wales steam coal trade. Its canopy is adorned with steel motifs of coal wheels, steamboats and a miner with a pickaxe.

…On a modern brick wall in the town centre, beneath a ‘To Let’ sign, is an abstract frieze of the industrial landscape.

….A pub that has opened in the restored water board building is named The Iron Dragon, with two resplendent golden dragons sculptures jutting from either side of the stone columns that frame the door.

…The Caedraw Roundabout outside the Aldi contains a sculpture by Charles Sansbury, which transforms an earth-bound pit winding gear into a 12 metre tall spire, surrounded by a crescent of standing stones, positing some link in the imagination between the Neolithic and the industrial revolution.

…Pink granite benches are engraved with poems about the industrial past. “the stalks of chimneys bloomed continuous smoke and flame”, says one by Mike Jenkins. Another quotes the scientist Michael Faraday:

“The fires from the hills shone very bright into my room and the blast of the furnace kept up a continual roar.”

On another bench I read lines from ‘Merthyr’ a poem by local lad, Glyn Jones:

“…I find what rustles/ Oftenest and scentiest / through the torpid trees / Of my brain-pan, is some Merthyr-mothered breeze”.

In that same poem, Jones describes the post-industrial town’s decayed slum areas mid-century as “battered wreckage in some ghastly myth”.

On this bench pictured below, was a reference to Dic Penderyn and the 1831 Merthyr uprising.

At that time, the town was home to some of the most skilled ironworkers in the world. But unrest was growing….

Locals were increasingly angry about their inadequate wages, while they were lauded over by the industrialists of the town. It was time for change, but they were hopelessly disenfranchised with only 4% of men having the right to vote.

In May 1831, workers marched through the streets, demanding Parliamentary reform, growing rowdier as their ranks swelled. They raided the local debtors’ court, reclaiming confiscated property and destroying the debtors’ records. Growing nervous about the rebellion, which was beginning to spread to other villages and towns, the industrial bosses and landowners called in the army.

On June 3^rd, soldiers confronted protestors outside the Castle Inn and violence broke out. After the scuffle, Private Donald Black lay wounded, stabbed in the back with a bayonet by an unseen assailant.

Despite there being no evidence that young Richard Lewis committed the act, he was accused of the crime and sentenced to death by hanging, disregarding the petition of the sceptical townsfolk, and even doubting articles in the local newspaper. The government wanted the death of a rebel as an example to others, and poor Dic Penderyn was to be it, regardless of trifling matters like proof.

He is now an important cult figure in the working class struggle, buried in his hometown of Port Talbot, but remaining here in spirit, one small burning flame of Merthyr’s fiery legacy.

To buy a copy of Gareth’s book, please follow the link on his site.

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.

An extract from the 1851 Public Health Map showing a more detailed view of the area covered in this article.

We must now start from the Dynevor Arms towards the Iron Bridge. A curriery premises was erected and for some time carried on a little way down on the right hand by Messrs M. Davies and Wayne. This was one of the Davies’s of Pantyscallog and a Wayne of the Gadlys, but Mr Wayne migrated to the Carmarthen Tinplate Works, which he carried on for many years.

Anterior to the curriery there was in this very locality a nailmaker working by the name of Samuel Jones. At this time all nails were made by hand (cut and wire nails not yet known). They were all made of slit rods, a process that, as far as South Wales works are concerned, has entirely ceased, and the making of a nail was really a good specimen of the handicraft. There was a small bellows blowing upon the point of the nail, and the work was always carefully held so that the air current passed up the rod. The why and wherefore of this has many a time been thought over, and I acknowledge that no satisfactory solution has ever been found.

Lower down was the residence of of Mr Coffin, who, in addition to curriery, was, or had been, the clerk of the Small Debts Court, and thus became very obnoxious to some, so that at the time of the Merthyr Riots his house and furniture suffered damage at the hands of the mob. One of his daughters afterwards married Mr Thomas Wayne, and resided at Glancynon, near the Gadlys. The other married a Mr William Llewellyn, of Abercarn, the then mineral and other agent of the Llanover Estates. There was a jeu d’esprit in the Cardiff and Merthyr Guardian in or about the time of Mr Wayne’s marriage, showing how very careful he had been, for he not only obtained a wife, but a coffin also.

The British Schools followed Mr Coffin’s garden, and then the Three Horse Shoes Inn, kept by a Daniel Stephens. The next and adjoining was the premises of Mr John Bryant, whose curriery was (as Mr Coffin’s was also) across the road, and Mr Bryant also took Pride’s storehouse for his trade purposes after the railway had rendered canal traffic obsolete, or rather obsolete as far as shop goods were concerned, to Merthyr at that time.

The Three Horse Shoes Inn. Next door is the Kirkhouse, built on the site of the British School. Photo courtesy of the Alan George Archive.

Close to Mr Bryant’s house is a way to Aberdare, which joins the road up from the Dynevor Arms, close beyond Mr Jeffries’ house. On the opposite side of this opening was the Cyfarthfa Surgery. Mr Edward Davies was the head, and in physique always reminded me of the Emperor Nicholas of Russia. Years after, Dr Davies lived at the Court House, and practised after he had left Cyfarthfa. The Miners’ Arms was adjoining. The residences coming next were built by a Mr Teague subsequently.

Bridgefield Terrace with the Miners’ Arms at the centre. Photo courtesy of the Alan George Archive.

To be continued at a later date…….

A New Merthyr

The following article by the renowned Merthyr-born architect Arthur Trystan Edwards appeared in the Merthyr Express 70 years ago today…

Merthyr’s Bridges: Ynysgau Bridge

By the mid 1800s, the only bridge of any note across the Taff in central Merthyr was the Iron Bridge at the bottom of Castle Street, the only other bridge being Jackson’s Bridge further up the river. It soon became obvious that the Iron Bridge was not adequate for the amount of traffic needing to cross the river.

In June 1860, the Surveyor of the Local Board of Health submitted a plan for a new bridge to be situated downstream of the Iron Bridge to carry traffic from the town to Georgetown. His proposal stated:

“The proposed bridge to be erected….is the continuance of the line of Victoria Street and its terminus by Ynysgau Chapel, and crossing the river Taff on the skew at an angle of sixty-five degrees – thus forming a direct communication between Victoria Street and Penry Street, which will effect greater facility of traffic that the inconsistent turns at the present site”.

An excerpt from an 1860 map showing the planned new bridge just below the Iron Bridge.

The proposed new bridge would cross the river in one single 80 foot span, and would be built of wrought iron plate girders six feet deep. It would be 24 feet wide, five foot of which would be set aside for a pedestrian footpath on the north side. The cost of the new bridge was estimated at £1,700, and would take about four months to complete.

The Board of Health decided to hold over the report for a month to allow them time to consider the proposals. Ten years later, the bridge still hadn’t been built.

It was in 1879 that it became obvious that the situation at the Iron Bridge was critical and that a new bridge was needed straight away. The Board finally dusted off the old plans, and the new bridge was begun. The work was entrusted to Messrs Patton and Co of Crumlin Viaduct Works, and the bridge was finally completed on 17 March 1880.

Ynysgau Bridge. Photo courtesy of http://www.alangeorge.co.uk/index.htm

The bridge remained the primary road bridge in the centre of Merthyr until the 1960s, by which time everyone was becoming increasingly concerned by the way the bridge would move and spring alarmingly every time heavy vehicles passed over it. It was decided that a new bridge was required, and a new concrete bridge was built 50 yards upstream (the present bridge near the Fire Station).

The old bridge closed in November 1963 when the new bridge was opened, and the structure was dismantled in 1964.

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.

Behind this part, and alongside the river, was the quarter whose savour was anything but respectable; it was known as China. It only went down the riverside a short way, from which to the Morlais Brook the cinder tip abutted on to the river.

An extract from the 1851 Ordnance Survey map of Merthyr showing the location of China.

The locality was also called Pontstorehouse, the origin of this name, according to my idea, being from the storehouse for general housing of the shop goods being a little way beyond Jackson’s Bridge on the right hand. It was, of course, on the canal bank, and the wharfinger, or storehouse keeper, was a Mr Lewis Williams of Cardiff. There was also another storehouse a little lower on the other side of the canal, kept by Mr Mathew Pride of Cardiff, but it had not the traffic of the upper one.

Between these there were one or two private stores, one of which belonged to Mr Christopher James, already alluded to. The wharves of the Dowlais and Penydarren Companies were between the canal and the river. First came the Dowlais one, with a house so that oats or other material damageable by rain could be discharged; then the Penydarren Wharf, walled round with an entrance gate (the Dowlais one described above also had its entrance doors) and adjoining was the other Dowlais Wharf, used solely for the discharge of hematite ore, or other kindred material. The tramroad ran to the end of this wharf and no further. There was a building below, which afterwards altered and converted into a brewery. It was afterwards owned by Mr David Williams.

Another extract from the 1851 Ordnance Survey map of Merthyr showing the old Tramroad crossing Jackson’s Bridge, and leading to Dowlais and Penydarren Wharves between the River Taff and the Glamorganshire Canal.

Having reached the terminus of the canal branch of the Old Tramroad, we could go straight on and join the road between the canal and Iron Bridges; but by so doing some parts would be omitted.

To return to the road passing over Jackson’s Bridge. Crossing the Canal Bridge between the Dowlais Wharf, partly covered, and Upper Storehouse, the first house on the left having entrance from the towing-path was occupied by Mr William Harrison, the clerk of the canal, whose office was at the Parliament Lock, a short distance down the canal, and nearly opposite the Ynysfach Works, on the other side of the canal.

There being some descendants of that name yet residing, I may perhaps interest them by saying Mr Harrison himself was rather short, inclined to be stout, and fond of his garden, which was kept in very good order. It is not for me to pry into anyone’s private history; but as it is clear that he was at one time engaged in the Forest of Dean, probably in connection with the timber of encroachments, he then took a wife, and a real good, kind woman she was. One of their sons was named Maynard Colchester (who became cashier at the Dowlais Ironworks), which indicates her to have been one of the family whose home was called the Wilderness, not very far from Mitchel Dean or Dean Magna.

Mr Harrison was a great hand at trigonometry. Keith being the author of his ideal books on those subjects. There were five sons and two daughters. Mr Harrison resided at one time at Pencaebach House, and was engaged at Plymouth Works. It is said he wrote to Pitt suggesting the putting of tax on the manufacture of iron, and suggesting that his own knowledge of the trade rendered his services of great value in the collection of such tax, if imposed. If I mistake not, this may be read by his grandchildren, and to them and every other whose name may be mentioned, I beg to tender as assurance that nothing is said but with due respect.

The road around to the Iron Bridge passed on one side of Mr Harrison’s garden, and the towing path of the canal on the other; but before turning down that road, let us glance around. One road is to the right, and led to the Nantygwenith turnpike gate; the road in front led up the hill to to Penyrheolgerrig, and on to Aberdare over the hill. A tramroad from Cyfarthfa to the Ynysfach Works crossed somewhat diagonally, and passed behind the Dynevor Arms, the first house on the left having only the road between it and the Canal House.

A more detailed version of the above map showing Mr Harrison’s house (Canal House)

To be continued at a later date…..

As an addition to this piece, I would like to send my best wishes to Mike Donovan who provided these marvellous articles. Mike has been unwell lately, and I, (personally and on behalf of everyone who knows him) would like to wish him a speedy recovery.

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

The Morlais Brook – part 1

by Clive Thomas

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.

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.

To be continued…..

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.

We now, however, resume from the junction of Brecon Road and follow the one with the Tramroad on or alongside. Beyond on the right-hand for some distance were cottages; they had small gardens in front, but not one had a back door. The level of the field would probably range from three to ten feet higher than the ground floor of the dwelling.

After these cottages was the Cambrian Inn, and then Bryant’s Brewery, which had malthouses also, but had all ceased to to work ere I can recall it. This Mr Bryant was then old, and, I think, migrated to Cefn near Bridgend, and identified himself in the coal getting. Quarry Row is the opening if we continue to the right, but we next pass the grocery shop of Mr Charles. There were some more cottages, also a shop or two, and the Jackson’s Bridge public house on the bank of the Taff was the last of that side.

On the left, from where the Tramroad became a portion of the road, some few cottages under the tip, then the Bethesda Chapel lying back, and some cottages again by the side of the Tramroad, and, unless I err, some down near the bottom of the tip. It was in some of these houses or cottages very important persons resided, they were the acting parish constables who lived there.

There were three that can be recalled – two of the name Williams. There were ‘Billy the Balca’ and his brother Tom, of course of the same place; the surname of the other has gone, but he was known as ‘John Keep her Down’, from his method of dealing with corpses in the dreadful time of the cholera visitation. No doubt they had rather a rough time sometimes. Drunken brawls were not unusual, but there was then no ‘Bruce’s Act’ demanding their attention as to the hour of closing.

The good residence below was occupied by Mr David James, who carried on the business of a tanner. His yard was close by, having an entrance at the end of the garden. Mr William Davis, the eldest son of Mr David Davis, of the (then) London House, Hirwaun, was apprenticed to learn the tannery trade here, but after a while that was abandoned and the sale of coal occupied his attention. Another apprentice to Mr James named O’Connell, was a nephew of great Daniel, the Irish agitator.

Below the opening was the Black Bull, having its own brewery connected with it in the rear. Cottages followed a short way, a grocer’s shop, kept by Mr Samuel Thomas, afterwards of Scyborwen (sic), and then only a few cottages brought us to the Jackson’s Bridge again.

A portion of the 1851 Public Health Map showing the area in question

To be continued at a later date……