The article transcribed below appeared in the Western Mail 130 years ago today (23 May 1889).
ALLEGED ANTIQUARIAN DISCOVERY AT MERTHYR.
THRILLING EXPERIENCES OF A “SPECIAL CORRESPONDENT.”
by Morien
In consequence of a rumour to the effect that an extraordinary subterranean passage had been discovered leading from Morlais Castle to no one knew where, I visited the place on Wednesday, accompanied by the Rev. J. Edmund Jenkins, rector of Vaynor, who is a local antiquarian. After a frugal repast at the hospitable Aber Glais Inn, we passed over the romantic river which during countless ages has scooped out remarkable dents in the living rock, and slowly ascended the green slope at the summit of which the castle stands.
In a quarry, about half a mile from the castle, and to the south-east, of it, we came upon some men at work. In answer to our inquiries as to the subterranean passage, they pointed to a heap of sleepers, and said “the hole” was underneath them. After some conversation of a persuasive nature they began to remove these impediments, and eventually the opening was revealed to what looked like a very ugly “hole”. A plank was next placed in it, and pushed forward until it rested upon something solid below. I, Morien, then got on to the plank and, after the fashion of other and youthful dogs, slid down into the unknown abyss. I found that the end of the plank rested on an immense heap of fallen rubbish, with a vault-like roof of uneven rocks overhead and water dropping everywhere.
Owing to the wet and, therefore, slippery nature of the descent, it seemed highly dangerous to attempt to explore below. But I determined to make the attempt, and, having lighted a torch of cotton wool, the darkness was made visible. One of workmen above now came down over the plank and joined me. Lighting his candle by the light of the Morienic torch, he led the way over the great heap of stones down into the great silent depths. I followed him, after the manner of a goat, careful of every footstep.
The roof as we proceeded came nearer to one’s back, and I was made rather uncomfortable by observing that there were spaces between the roof and the hanging stones overhead. Besides the danger of those stones giving way, there was also the peril which would result from an accidental slip of the feet, for had that happened one would have been precipitated over the surface of the immense heap of debris. But my companion still descended, and after he had gone about 40 yards further I – employing the patois of the country-side – called out “Stopwch!” to my companion. I had by this time become convinced that neither a De Bohun of Brecknock nor a De Clare of Glamorgan had ever been such a fool as to risk his neck in such a place, and that the so-called “subterranean passage” from Morlais Castle to some place unknown was a myth. We, therefore, retraced our steps, and eventually reached the surface, none the worse except for dirty coats and unmentionables.
Mr. Evan Lewis, Cefn, and Mr. Richard Hughes had descended a few days ago a little below the place at which I stopped, but neither went more than about 45 yards. They then came to the bottom of the heap. There they found the thigh bone, as was supposed, of a human being, and a large stone lying in a slanting position. Mr. Evan Lewis endeavoured to go beyond that stone, but he told me there was no open space beyond, and the roof there seemed extremely dangerous. Mr. Martin, manager of the Dowlais Works, had given orders to explore beyond if it was seen that the so-called passage was continuous; but, it seems that the stone referred to, closing up the place, does not lie more than five yards from the bottom of the heap of rubbish.
Nevertheless, there is no doubt this castle had its subterranean exits, and it is not impossible, after all that this was one of them, but that it has fallen in.