Tag: Merthyr Express

A Scarcity of Fish

by Laura Bray

The Merthyr Express of 6th February 1943 ran a piece on the scarcity of fish, assuring Merthyr housewives that the cause was not “due to the Food Control Committee or distribution authorities”.

Apparently the only fish available were “the occasional sprats or kippers” and the paper sent reporters out on the streets to try to ascertain the cause.

All of which made me wonder why the Express would report on this, during World War II, when rationing was just a part of normal life. Well, it seems that fish and chips were not rationed; indeed, the government considered fish and chips to be an important part of the war effort and it was the one solid meal families could get in relative quantity. There were always queues when the chip shops were frying.

But although fish was not rationed, the oil for frying was, so the quality was not always great, and the fish themselves were also prone to variations in supply. Fishing vessels had been requisitioned by the Royal Navy, and those still in use were subject to attacks from German U-boats. The price of fish rose considerably, but the government managed to maintain a steady supply, which would have been no mean feat. So important were fish and chips to the war effort that allegedly British troops were known to use it as code to identify friendly troops: one would shout fish, and the other would reply chips.

So, what did cause the scarcity of fish in this February? The Express reported that it was down to a combination of bad weather around the coasts, and the few fish that did get through were prioritised for the hospitals.

Hopefully the situation resolved itself within a few weeks, although the Express remains silent on this.

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.

The Basin Tramroad continued between the turnpike road and the Morlais Brook, until it came close to Gellyfaelog, and then curved round to the right, the road taking a turn just beyond. There were several public houses on the way; one, the Talbot, was not far from Penydarren, and three chapels can be recalled.

The Talbot Inn, Penydarren. Photo courtesy of the Alan George Archive

The Morlais Brook was kept to its course by masonry, sometimes in the form of a semi-circular culvert, at other places by a wall. A rope maker by the name of Verge followed his business here, his walk being between the brook and the tramroad. About where the road now turns, for years there stood an ash tree, but it became dispoiled to a stump or trunk eventually; it was always understood to be a boundary of some property, the detail of which if ever known has now slipped into the land of forgetfulness. This road, however, is to me a new one, and was made after all the works traffic was conveyed by the railroad.

For some distance along here the continuity of the dwellings on the right side was broken. There were others further on, in one of which Thomas Gwythiwr, the roll turner of Dowlais lived, and a person by the name of Shaw, whose father kept a school in the Glebeland, Merthyr, stayed with him. Shaw was an artist, and painted likenesses in oil, as well as any scenes, real and fanciful that may have taken his fancy. Whilst writing this, it occurs to me that it is likely some of his work yet exists in the locality; indeed, I firmly believe, one place could be mentioned, but do not like to say so without permission. If anyone will enquire of me through you it could be mentioned without fear of offence.

At the end of the block of dwellings in one of which Gwythiwr lived, the tramroad and turnpike were not above forty feet apart, and level with each other. A pedestrian could, and generally did, come on to the tramroad to shorten the way, but all other traffic would go a little further on and then turn. This bridge is Gellifaelog, and the brook is the Morlais. There was was at one time a tramroad on the left side of the brook running around to the Ivor Works.

An extract of the 1851 Ordnance Survey Map showing the Gellifaelog Bridge

Crossing the bridge I fancy a turnpike gate can be remembered, but a public house, the Bridge End, can well be remembered. It was kept by one of the name of Evans. His daughter was married to Will Williams, who with others went to Russia on a rail matter; that may be again alluded to. There was a cheque presented at the Brecon Old Bank and paid, which turned out an imposition, and it was reputed to have been done by her in man’s clothing, but another was thought to have been the instigator. Whether the identity was correct or not, there was the on dit.

To be continued at a later date……

The Dark Side of Convict Life – part 9

by Barrie Jones

Chapter VII recounts Henry’s second long term imprisonment in Portland Prison, Dorset. He was tried at the Glamorgan Assizes, Swansea on the 14th November 1898 for the “Great Jewellery Robbery” at Treharris, again with David Davies. They had burgled the premises of John Edwards, Jeweller, Perrot Street, Treharris, stealing watches, chains, rings, and various other articles valued at two-hundred and fifty pounds. Superintendent Thornley commented to Justice Day that both prisoners were habitual thieves and burglars, and both had just been liberated on “ticket-of-leave.”

The Dark Side of Convict Life (Being the Account of the Career of Harry Williams, a Merthyr Man). Merthyr Express, 5th March 1910, page 11.

Chapter VII

I suppose many of my readers can well remember the great miners’ strike in 1898, when men, women, and little children were carried to their graves dying every day of starvation; a crime committed in those days was certainly excusable. It was for taking part in a jewellery robbery that I was tried and sentenced to penal servitude for nine years. I was afterwards transferred to Exeter Prison to serve six months’ probation. I made no attempt to escape this time, as I was too carefully watched, for the authorities had not forgotten the last event. I had no trouble there this time, but my troubles were to come. After serving my probation I was transferred to Portland Convict Prison, this being a first-class labour station, and it was here that I composed the “Convict’s Reflections,” which I will give for the benefit of my readers of the “Merthyr Express”:

The Convict’s Reflections

One eve as I sat in my cell, sad and lonely
The prison all quiet, and the warders away
I thought of the parents I had left far behind me
And prayed that again I might see them some day,
When all of a sudden, outside my cell window,
I heard a bird chirping – it seemed full of glee.
So just pay attention, old friends, while I mention
What that little bird told through the bars unto me.

It brought to my mind the bright home of my childhood.
It spoke of the grief and the many sad tears.
That my own darling sister had shed in the wild wood.
When she heard I was sentenced to nine long years.
It said that at night-time when that fair one was sleeping
She would dream of the time when her brother was free,
And even in her slumbers o’er me she would be weeping
The bird whispered this through the bars unto me.

It spoke of two honest, hardworking brothers
It is here, hardened nature, succumbed and tears flowed.
I had seen them, their children, like all jealous lovers,
Remove from the taint of their own flesh and blood.
Oh, sin, thou alluring, and fair faced deceiver,
When, when, shall frail man thy unmasked features see?
When your mates from the tomb hesitate to receive you
The bird whispered this through the bars unto me.

It told me of one who had died broken-hearted
When she heard of the sentence they passed on her lad
Oh, how she did weep on the day that we parted
When I think of my mother it makes my heart sad
How little she thought, on the day that she bore me
That the pride of her breast a poor convict would be
For she prayed that the angels above would watch o’er me
The bird whispered this through the bars unto me.

It spoke of my father, whose days were fast closing,
That the battle of life he himself had to brave,
And it said that he longed to be calmly reposing
By the side of his love in the peace of the grave.
Oh, how well I remember the way he would caress me
And tell me fine tales as I sat on his knee.
But no more in this world shall those fond parents bless me
The bird whispered this through the bars unto me.

And lastly it told me of one I loved dearly
It cost me a pang when from her I’d to part
For it said that she oft-times wished she was near me;
Though a convict, I had still the first place in her heart.
The little bird chirped a good-night, and departed,
But told me to hope for bright days yet to see
And often I think when I’m feeling down-hearted
What that little bird told through the bars unto me.

To be continued….

“Dorothy”

by Laura Bray

They say the past is a different country and many of us bemoan the seeming madness of some of the Health and Safety restrictions we live under, but in a less regulated age, we can occasionally wander and wonder.

Such an example would be the Opera “Dorothy” performed 100 years ago today (27th October 1923) at the Theatre Royal by the Merthyr Amateur Operatic Society – and oh that Merthyr could field such a society today!

Anyway, “Dorothy” is a comic opera is three acts with music by Alfred Cellier and a libretto by B.C. Stephenson. The basic story involves a rather dissolute man who falls in love with his disguised fiancée and it became very popular amongst audiences, opening in London in 1886 and running for 931 performances, making it, at the time, the longest-running musical theatre production in history. It toured in Britain, America and Australia and enjoyed numerous revivals until at least 1908 and so it is easy to see why it was popular with amateur theatre groups. Indeed “The Times” described it, in 1908, as “one of the most tuneful, most charming, and most shapely of English comic operas”.

The Merthyr Amateur Operatic Society clearly did a splendid job of performing it. The review in the Merthyr Express announced that the scenery was “amongst the finest ever seen on the local theatre stage”, the costumes were “almost perfect”, the makeup “really good”, and, as for the singing, it was “magnificent”, reflecting the great choral tradition of the town.  In fact, there was no part of the cast and crew not mentioned in his praise, from the performers, to the orchestra, the producer and musical director, and the officials of the society.

But notwithstanding that names sold papers, the Express also reports that the opera played to packed houses each night; that on the Saturday evening, hundreds were turned away; and that an additional matinee performance was added and tickets given to over 100 “inmates from the workhouse”. So, perhaps in this case the praise was well deserved.

The highlight of the opera was clearly Act 2, described as a “masterpiece”, greeted with “thunderous applause”, as the audience prepared for a scene depicting the a hunt and the meeting of the hounds. Not for the Merthyr Amateur Operatic Society puppets, cut-outs or toys. Oh no! They had the foxhounds from the Gelligaer and Talybont Hunt, loaned to them by the Master of the Hunt (who was Seymour Berry’s daughter) Miss Eileen Berry. Imagine now, trying to put on an opera, to packed houses, with the local foxhounds on stage! Health and Safety would have a field day!

The photo in the paper (of poor quality now, but below) shows about a half dozen hounds, looking remarkably relaxed, on the stage with the cast.

The interesting thing about all this is that it does not seem unusual to have working dogs on stage.  The Bwllfa Hounds from Aberdare appeared in a theatrical production in the Gwyn Hall in Neath at about the same time. It was truly a different time.

I wonder what the dogs themselves thought of the “thunderous applause” and their nightly performance in Act 2!  And I wonder how many were not beautifully behaved on stage…..

The Dark Side of Convict Life – part 8

by Barrie Jones

Chapter VI recounts Henry’s views on Prisoners’ Aid Societies and in particular the Salvation Army.

The Dark Side of Convict Life (Being the Account of the Career of Harry Williams, a Merthyr Man). Merthyr Express, 26th February 1910, page 11.

Chapter VI

On Prisoners’ Aid Societies.

I daresay that my readers have heard a great deal about these benevolent societies, and I should like to give my opinion concerning their pretended generosity. I have often thought that if I had been assisted I should never have gone through any further trouble, but as I was deceived after forming good resolutions, there was an excuse why I again trod the path of evil.

There has been a great deal said about the goodness of their work in helping and rescuing the criminal, and of the wonderful work they have done and are doing, but some of them are little better than money-making institutions.

There is one society that has really and truly done some good, and that is the Salvation Army. I say this because I have experienced this, but there are many people who do not like the Salvationists, simply because they are noisy in the streets; but they are only acting in accordance with the Bible, for it says “Thou shalt make a noise with timbrels and instruments of music, that my words shall be heard throughout all lands,” or something to that effect. The Salvationists have not only assisted and helped to make homes for the discharged criminals, but also for the distressed and poverty-stricken poor of many countries.

A chaplain of a certain prison in Wales once told me that the Salvationists were too fond of boasting of the good they have done, and that it was the working-class who chiefly contributed towards them, and that the wealthy as a rule passed them by. I was not long in telling him that there are to be found among the Salvationists people of independent means. And it is so; and I think they are in the right to boast since the Church of England does exactly the same thing. “Go out into the highways and hedges, and bring in hither the halt, the maimed and the blind.” The Church preaches this, but the Salvation Army practices it.

The Salvation Army has a farm colony, somewhere outside London, where they train criminals for emigration to Canada, but the Canadian Government has now put a stop to this, so that no criminal should be allowed out there who is assisted by public funds. As the Salvationists are people who never give in they will, I am quite sure, some day, even if General Booth does not live to do it – his son possesses exactly the same determination – from a scheme to obtain a substitute for the Canadian farming.

Speaking from experience I am justified in saying that the Salvation Army societies are the predominating societies of the world, and God knows what it will lead to yet. It is not the Salvationists who boast of the work they have done, for they do not  praise themselves in their Christian calling, as a great many are too apt to believe, but it is the likes of myself more who praise their splendid work, which is a work of love. I cannot find words to praise them enough, for they have turned many a hardened criminal into a respectable citizen, and a loving husband and father. If there are any of my readers who have a tendency to oppose this, let them come to me and I will argue with them upon the subject until they are black in the face. Their flag is still flying, and it will fly when those who condemn it are in their graves.

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.

But stay! there was a round building that must not be forgotten. It is probable that many are unacquainted with its purpose, for they are not in vogue now. It was a structure for the rolls not in use, or being attended to for making or repairing. It was built round so that a crane fixed in the centre would sweep around, so as to deliver or take up all within its scope. I should add the rolls were stored on their ends, the floor plates having the necessary circular holes for taking in the neck or bearing, and so keep them in vertical position.

As regards the individuality of Penydarren, Mr Richard Forman was the one time manager, and resided at Gwaelodygarth Cottage. When Mr Grenfell was manager he resided at Gwaunfarren, and it was so occupied by Mr Benjamin Martin after he became manager, previous to which he resided on the “yard”, or rather the road leading to it and to Caemarydwn (sic).

Mr Martin had five brothers and one sister that can be remembered. Two of his brothers, Joseph and Thomas, were in the works; Edward who became the registrar at Penydarren; John was the doctor, living near the Bush, in the High Street of Merthyr, and George, who is always remembered in Dowlais. The sister married and went to America, whence she returned, and lived in a house between where the Pontmorlais turnpike gate stood and the bottom of Penydarren Works.

The first millwright that can be recalled was Mr Thomas Davies, who went thence to Nantyglo. He was succeeded by John Watt, from Dowlais, who afterwards removed to Govan. James Roe, a younger brother of John P Roe, was there also, and I think he died there. Bye-the-bye, he married either the daughter or other relative of the Waunwyllt family. Adrian Stephens (left), the inventor of the steam whistle, was also there.

It was in the Penydarren Forge one of Trevithick’s engines and boilers was seen, and another also of his make was used for winding coal at Winch Fawr. The upper end of the forge was built of limestone, and the purest specimen of Doric architecture ever seen in South Wales. The chimney or stack of the roll lathe, not many yards thence, was a copy of the Monument on Fish Street Hill, but one fifth the size.

Now to return to the crossing of the turnpike road on the limestone tramroad. I have an idea that Mr Morgan, who lived close by there, and already alluded to, married a sister of Mr Benj. Martin, but she has not been mentioned with that gentleman’s other brothers and sisters as I am not positive respecting it.

There were houses almost continually from her to Dowlais. On the opposite (the left) side of the road there was a shop kept by the name of Williams – it was a son of his, I believe, who erected a flour mill, and opened a grocery and and provision place on the right hand side of Victoria Street and named it the Hong Kong Shop.

I have omitted to say that one of those living in the houses near Penydarren Office was a Mr Gibson; he was the cashier, and married a Miss Farmer, whose father was a gunsmith etc. in Cardiff. His shop was, as near as I can remember, where or near there is one one present, between the Bute estate offices and the Angel Hotel. He built a row of cottages on the left, opposite to where the road now turns to Dowlais, and thus avoids Gellyfaelog, which is known to this day as Gibson’s Row.

Gibson’s Row in the 1940s. Photo courtesy of the Alan George Archive

A family named Waters also lived in the clump. John, the eldest son, became the furnace manager at Duffryn under Mr A Hill, in which position some years after he was succeeded by Mr John Place. Mr Evan Roberts, another of Mr Hill’s furnace managers, had charge at Plymouth after Mr Thos. Davies left.

To be continued at a later date…….