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.
That Russian contract was not all the Dowlais Company anticipated, and from a very small cause. The drawing and specification of the rail were precise and minute, but in the drawing of the section and its figured dimensions there was a slight difference (it was really 1-10th of an inch), and this being pointed out to Mr Thomas Evans, he only berated the draughtsman for so doing.
Some thousand or more tons were made and delivered on the banks of the Neva, when lo and behold, the section was found to be incorrect. Workmen were sent from Dowlais to Russia to remedy matters, and Thomas Evans himself had one, if not two, journeys to St Petersburg. It was one of these journeys that that caused his illness and death. He is buried in the Vaynor Churchyard, and at his funeral the tears chased each other down Sir John’s cheek. This is fact, for my own eyes witnessed it.
Such a host of memories crowd on me that I scarce know where to begin. Having mentioned the Evanses, they will be first; yes, dear reader, even before Mr G T Clark, for the influence of the Evans family drove Mr Clark from Dowlais at one time.
John Evans, c 1856, William Jones, Courtesy of Cyfarthfa Castle Museum & Art Gallery
Strange, but true, that the whirligig of time should bring back a nephew of these Evanses, as not only a director, but one of the very influential ones. It is none other than Mr E Windsor Richards. Mr John Evans was, I think, the oldest, and was afflicted with gout, and being at all times hot-tempered, he was not in the best of moods while an attack of gout was on. He was of fine physique, and woe betide anyone who gave him cause for punishment.
It is said, and I believe the truth, that being upset with some intelligence from the works while confined with an attack, that he smashed, yes literally smashed, with his stick a lot of articles on his own sideboard. His position was that of blast-furnace manager. Mrs Evans was, I believe, a Miss Henry. They had two daughters, one became Mrs Simons, the other Mrs Dyke. Leaving Dowlais, Mr John Evans resided near Cardiff and is, I think, buried in Sully Churchyard.
Mr Thomas Evans’ department was, more especially, the forges and mills, but neither brother was exclusively engaged with his own part. Thomas seemed to be the upper of the trio; he was (probably from having been brought into the mingling with others) more suave. John was brusque, but had a good human heart under his ruggedness. There was one other peculiarity that others noticed. If Sir John had Thomas about him in the works, extensions or improvements were expected, but reduction of wages and or other cropping going on if John was the companion.
Many thanks to Hywel George, administrator of the Cynon Culture website for allowing me to use this article.
The land for a new building was given by Mrs Mary Williams of Penrhadwy. Vaynor, and work was about to start when Robert Thomson Crawshay, ironmaster at Cyfarthfa, four miles away, offered to build the church at his expense if the money already raised by the congregation, about £700, was put towards what is now St John’s in Cefn Coed. For many years this church was known as St Gwendoline’s, a mistaken dedication caused by confusion among scholars over Welsh and English usage.
A postcard of St Gwynno’s Church from the early 20th Century. Photo courtesy of the Alan George Archive
Father Silas Morgan Harris (1888-1982) corrected the name whose scholarship embraced the Welsh saints and the history of mediaeval Welsh church. St Gwynno appears to have been Abbot Gwynno, born either in 487 or 507, whose feast day falls on October 22 and one of that company of Celtic saints who travelled spreading Christianity throughout these lands. In Scotland he is known as Guinochus and also credited with founding Plouhinec in Britanny and Kilglin in Co. Meath in Ireland. A contemporary view of St Gwynno can be seen in the fine bas relief near the entrance; He is shown with his shepherd’s crook and the invocation ‘St Guinoce, OPN’ – his Latin name and initials of Latin invocation Ora Pro Nobis (Pray for Us). The sculpture is signed AJJA, work of Arthur Ayres, winner of the Prix de Rome 1931 whose works can be seen in major international permanent exhibitions.
This work is in memory of Canon William Henry Harris (1884-1956), elder brother of Father Silas. Both were born in Pontsticill and firmly on the Anglo-Catholic wing of the Church. Canon Harris, known as Father Bill, was professor of Welsh at Lampeter, precentor of the chapel and canon treasurer of St David’s Cathedral. Continuing the family connection, the stained-glass window opposite, depicting the Blessed Virgin and Child, was given by the Harris brothers in memory of their mother, Ann, and is inscribed in Welsh with a line from the Hail Mary “Blessed art Thou amongst women”. The figure of the guardian angel further down the church could not be more distinctively Victorian. The angel is in memory of the four daughters and two sons of the Williams family at Penrhadwy, whose mother gave land for the church. All died in quick succession in their twenties and early thirties in the 11 years between 1859 and 1870.
The angel is by Joseph Edwards, Merthyr-born sculptor whose works are also to be found in Westminster Abbey. He was born in 1814, son of a stone-cutter, and is said to have been in love with one of the Penrhadwy daughters. The angel is reputed to have been modelled on her; one of the final three works in a career that saw 70 of his sculptures exhibited at Royal Academy.
The altar and reredos, with its carved woodwork and panelling, date from 1912 given in memory of Herbert Kirkhouse (died 1904, aged 72) a mining engineer at Cyfarthfa Works who married Maria Teresa, one of the Penrhadwy daughters. Maria Teresa is commemorated in the oak font, given by her son in 1930.The present St Gwynno’s was completed in 1868 a year before consecration by Dr Ollivant Bishop of Llandaff, standing in for Dr. Thirlwell, Bishop of St David’s.
The churchyard is noted for the grave of Robert Thomson Crawshay, the church’s benefactor, with its 11-ton granite slab inscribed ‘God Forgive Me.’ There are also graves of people at the lead edge when Merthyr was at the height of its industrial power, though many have been lost to the march of time.
The vegetation on the steep slope running down to the banks of Taf Fechan is now sanctuary to wild life, plant and animal; a protected nature reserve. Speed was not a speciality of Gruffydd Shon, the old bachelor, whose lady love tired of waiting for him and married a farmer. Gruffydd who died of a broken heart composed his own epitaph that existed as late as 1870 but vanished when his gravestone was broken during demolition of the old church. It read:
Here lies the body of Gruffydd Shon Covered here with earth and stone You may sweep it up or leave it alone It will be just the same to Gruffydd Shon.
In the 140 or so years since St Gwynno’s re-build it has shown signs of strain. In 1969 the church tower on the verge of collapse was taken down and remodelled with a new steeple costing £2000. In the 1980s the church was re-roofed with pantiles as near the original as possible; in the late 1990s the internal floor was replaced and whilst work was going on services were held in Pontsticill village hall; the churches own parish hail having been sold in a few years earlier. For most of its 1200 years St Gwynno’s was mother church for the scattered farms and cottages of Vaynor. When Dolygaer reservoir was completed in 1862 and work began on Taf Fechan reservoir in 1910, Pontsticill, the village that originated as home to those involved in the water industry, grew up a mile from the church where many of its congregation now live. The only other building in the immediate vicinity is the Church Tavern, built in 1823, which started life as a Court where law was administered and later became a celebrated local hostelry until its conversion into a house in 2000.
Below are two recent photos of St Gwynno’s Church – Old and New.
Many thanks to Hywel George, administrator of the Cynon Culture website for allowing me to use this article.
The story of St Gwynno’s goes back to 8th Century. The original form of the parish name was Maenor Gwynno, manor of Gwynno. The first early wooden church is believed to have been burned down in 1291 during the battle of Maesyfaenor, an epic struggle between the two neighbouring Norman lords, Humphrey de Bohun, 3rd Earl of Brecknock and Gilbert de Clare, 7th Earl of Gloucester, over the ownership of the nearby Morlais ridge and surrounding lands.
De Bohun won, at the cost of much bloodshed on both sides. Many were buried under the mound beyond the old church known as Cae Burdydd, or field of slaughter, about 100 yards down the track from this church. St Gwynno’s was rebuilt in 1295 and lasted for some 600 years when it became unsafe and was abandoned in the middle of the 19th Century.
Old and New St Gwynno’s Church, Vaynor. Photo courtesy of the Alan George Archive
De Bohun and De Clare
A fierce dispute broke out between Humphrey de Bohun, and Gilbert de Clare, which led to fighting between the two powerful Barons on the borders of Glamorgan and Breconshire.
Gilbert de Clare as seen in a stained glass window at Tewkesbury Abbey
De Clare had built a strong castle at Morlais near Merthyr on land which de Bohun claimed as his own. Raids were made on either side and this part of the country became lawless and swarmed with brigands (“The Welsh Wars of King Edward the First” by John E. Morris). The King’s Writ did not run in the Marcher Lordships. As the Marchers had fought for; and won their estates, they claimed the right to do as they pleased, within their own territories. In Glamorgan, they were known as “Arglwyddi Pren a Phwll” (Lords of the tree and the pool), as they had all the power to order men culprits be hanged and women culprits to be drowned (Rice Merrick and “Edward the 2nd on Glamorgan” John Griffiths). Both King and Marchers were aware, now that the power of the princes of North Wales had been broken, that the custom of private wars between the Marchers would have to be stopped. Edward was determined to enforce the doctrine that the dignity of the Grown was to be respected, and that the Lord. Marchers should be placed on a footing similar to that of the Crown tenants in England.
This private war between the Earls of Gloucester and Hereford was a unique opportunity for interfering and breaking the custom. Accordingly, the King sent a strongly worded proclamation to the two Earls to abstain from active hostilities on 25 January 1290, which Hereford obeyed. Gloucester’s men, however, under his bailiffs with the Earl’s banners, marched from Morlais castle and arrested and killed men from Vaynor, Penderyn and Ystradfellte parishes on three occasions during 1290. They carried, off 1070 head of cattle, 50 horse and bulls and countless sheep and pigs, of which the Earl received the usual one-third share. And soon brigands, who swarmed in the district, people who had been driven from their own homes when de Clare’s had extended their forests in Miskin or had escaped punishment or misdeeds by running away, also began to take part in the raids. In. addition to killing people and stealing animals, they committed sacrilege by taking away the chalice and ornaments from Penderyn Church, they set on fire together with Ty Ralph, Possibly the loot was taken by the brigands through ‘Bwlch y Lladron’ near Hirwaun.
Following these disorders, the King decided to act. Early in 1291, the Bishop of Ely, the Earl of Pembroke and two regular judges were commissioned to hear the case. The two Earls were to appear with the incriminated bailiffs at Ystradfellte on Monday, March 12th 1291. What a “Red Letter Day” this must have been for this quiet and secluded village!
Probably never before or since has such an assemblage of the most eminent notabilities in all their splendour, Barons in mail-armour on well-groomed horses been seen at Ystradfellte. The trial was to have taken place as Castell Coch, Ystradfellte; Hereford arrived punctually but Gloucester, who was married to the King’s daughter and was the most powerful baron in the country at that time, defied the king.
The Court adjourned, to Llanddew, near Brecon, but Gloucester was again absent. The trial proceeded and Gloucester and his bailiffs were found guilty, the damages being assessed at £100. Eventually at a great Council of Archbishops, Bishops, Earls and Barons, presided over by the King in person at Abergavenny at Michaelmas 1291, both Gloucester and Hereford, who were present, were sentenced to be imprisoned and their great lordships and estates to be confiscated. Gloucester was fined 1000 marcs and £100 for damages, and Hereford 1,000 marcs. Gloucester only lived for three and a half years longer, a sadder and wiser man.
In 1294 there was a general rising throughout Wales against being sent overseas to fight in Gascony and against the extortions of sheriff’s and bailiffs. The men of Glamorgan were led by Morgan or Rhys ap Morgan against de Clare and possibly this was the occasion or the origin of the stirring tune:
Rhyfelgyrch Cadben Morgan Rhwym wrth dy wregys gleddyf gwyn dy dad Atynt fy machgen dros dy wlad
The King cancelled his voyage to Gascony. He marched through Wales from North to South and was in Merthyr Tydfil on June 14th and 15th 1295, when he received the submission of the men of the Taff and Cynon Valleys, who had previously declared, that they had risen against Gloucester and not the King.
Gilbert de Clare, the Red Earl, died on December 7th 1295, and his young son Gilbert was killed at Bannockburn, in 1314. The great possessions in England and Wales were divided among three married sisters.
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.
By William Griffiths Transcribed by Carl Llewellyn
Cyfarthfa Castle was built according to the plans of William Crawshay in 1825. He was an iron-master of the Cyfarthfa Ironworks; rich, with a strong will, unassuming yet energetic. While waiting for his Castle to be built, he lived with family at Gwaelodygarth House.
His influence and energy had such an effect on the builders that the Castle was completed in 12 months at a cost of £30,000. Situated in the area of a park, of meadows and woods, it was so placed that a full view of the Iron Works could be seen from its windows. The workers could likewise look upon the edifice and after the affluence of their iron-master up on its elevated ground. At night the blast furnaces illuminated the surrounding country-side, particularly the stone walls of Cyfarthfa Castle its windows reflecting the red and yellow glow of light, in an unusual pattern of colour. The Master had installed his castle with many servants, fit for the magnate he was. His gardeners had changed the grounds into a beautiful park. His gamekeepers patrolled it night and day, against poachers and marauders so prevalent in those days. One of the gamekeepers was named John Lloyd and he lived with his wife at Pontsarn, on the borders of the Cyfarthfa Estate. They were always quarrelling and the servants at the Castle said they were not happy together. Their home at Pontsarn was a lonely place in a beautiful spot: almost at the base of the ancient Morlais Castle, adjacent to the historic site of Vaynor Old Church, where monks had once chanted their prayers and buried the dead of past wars.
Then someone remarked: “John Lloyd’s wife had not been seen for a number of weeks. Is she ill? Has she gone away?” The servants of the Castle began asking questions. But John gave them no answers. The questions became persistent, to be told angrily that she had gone away to Llangyfelach Fair. More weeks passed with no sign of Mrs Lloyd. Meanwhile John carried on at his work in the Castle grounds.
The disappearance could not continue without Mr Crawshay getting to know of it. Eventually he sent for John to question him on the subject: for at that time an employer had far greater power over an employee’s personal affairs than exists today. The Master was waiting for him in one of the living rooms of the Castle, as John gave an extra rub on his boots, before being shown in by a servant. As he entered the magnificently furnished room Mr Crawshay was walking away from him towards the large fireplace. John stood waiting for the Master to turn around but did not, he stood with his back to him, addressing him in a firm tone.
“Well Lloyd – what have you to say about your missing wife? Now understand man: I want the truth.” He turned quickly, raising the tone of his voice on the last sentence. John Lloyd, not a good looking man held his head down making incoherent and confused replies. He pulled at his smock with his left hand, not knowing what to do with his hat, which he held in his right. The more questions Mr Crawshay asked the more nervous he became. It was a conflict between master and servant, emotion being displayed by both men for a basic reason. All the power of position was at the command of the rich industrialist, yet dissatisfied with the result, he waved his arms in front of his gamekeeper, telling him he had no alternative – he must inform the police immediately. “Go” he told him, “Return to your work”. The Merthyr Tydfil Police interviewed John Lloyd later, in conjunction with the Breconshire authorities, for it was situated in that county. They searched the house for clues. Apparently nothing important was found relating to the missing lady, so the mystery became a talking point at Cyfarthfa Works, and eventually the whole district.
The Merthyr Police had now officially contacted headquarters in London, requesting that two investigators be sent to the town to work on the case. They began methodically as compared to the local officers, by questioning all who were acquainted with John Lloyd, judging the character of good or bad behaviour. “Was he jealous of his wife?”. They asked “Did he bear her? Did she have any men friends?” They circled the suspect with their queries: then they approached him singly, and together: They searched his house; dug in his garden; went next-door; gossiped to the neighbours, while John was at work. All those actions they took in the nerve war against him. It was said of Lloyd that he was unperturbed by the investigations. Each evening he made his way home on the rocky path through the woods and lanes of the Gurnos farmland to Pontsarn. His two dogs running to and fro, as he walked: the glow of the Cyfarthfa Iron Works, lighting the place in a shadowy twilight. Guilty or not, the man acted naturally, notwithstanding the pressure of suspicion around him.
Many thought him guilty, saying he had an evil looking face, as if the look of a man’s face proved his guilt: whereas it is well known that the most handsome of men can be murderous. The London Police were not concerned about John’s looks. They had to get the facts. They followed him around the estate, talking to him on the subjects of game, or poachers in general. They made him stand near the furnace where he boiled down the bones and meal for the Cyfarthfa hounds. A careful examination was made of the vessels – the furnace itself. They collected samples while many eyes watched them from Castle windows. “Those London police are too late.” it was whispered from one to another: “John Lloyd had done his wife in: boiled her down as food for hounds!” “He was very particular in cleaning the vessels. Sir, after his wife was missing”, a servant volunteered to the police. The investigators followed all the suggestions made to them, and despite a detailed enquiry, had to admit they were baffled. John remained free, as far as he was allowed to be under the investigation, so days passed to months.
They eventually presented their report, which turned out to be of insufficient evidence. So John Lloyd was not charged with the murder of his wife. The police returned to London. It is not known if the suspect remained in the employment of William Crawshay at Cyfarthfa Castle Estate. He lived for about 25 years in the Merthyr area, dying in a Poor-law Institution, diseased and wretched so it is believed, but with no foundation in fact. At the time of Lloyd’s death, a skeleton was found on the borders of the estate, presumed although not established to be the remains of Mrs Lloyd.
John Lloyd was alleged to be the murderer of his wife: the investigation into the case was thorough at the time, when men were hanged for far less crimes than killing their wives. The evidence basically was that Mrs Lloyd was missing or disappeared. No additional facts were produced against Lloyd: therefore according to the enquiry, no charge of a crime was made against him. Let that be his epitaph, and so be it.
The article transcribed below appeared in the Merthyr Telegraph 138 years ago today.
THE TOMBSTONE OF THE LATE MR. CRAWSHAY
A stone, weighing nine tons, and being 11ft 2in long, 7ft 2in wide, and 1ft 2in thick, has been placed upon the grave of the late Mr R. T. Crawshay, in Vaynor Churchyard. The stone, which is a conglomerate, was selected by Mr R. T. Crawshay from the Rhadyr Quarry, near Llandaff. Around the sides are formed a kind of rockery, but the surface of the stone is quite plain, although beautifully polished. The laying of the stone has been carried out by Messrs Malliphant and Morgan. An inscription will be placed upon the stone.
143 years ago today the article transcribed below appeared in the Western Mail:
Opening of Cefn Church
Yesterday the pretty township of Cefncoedycymmer, near Merthyr Tydfil, was all astir, the occasion being the preliminary opening of the church of St. John’s.
Before the days of the iron and coal trade, but a solitary cottage or two marked the now well populated outskirt of Cefn, and in those bygone days the important section of the parish of Vaynor was concentrated at Pontsarn and Pontsticill. There, in a pleasant little dingle, just above the banks of the Taff vawr, nestled the old parish church. About ten years ago the original building presented a decayed and irreparable appearance, and leading Churchmen of the parish at once decided to introduce another place of worship adjacent to the old site, where Welsh people had worshipped for so many centuries. A sum of money towards the necessary building fund was soon forthcoming; but at the outset Mr. Robert Crawshay, of Cyfarthfa Castle, with characteristic perception, pointed to the more urgent necessities of the people of Cefn with regard to church accommodation, and practically evinced his anxiety to see a want supplied in this direction by the handsome offer, that if the nominal sum already subscribed were transferred for the construction of an edifice at Cefn he would, at his own expense build the Vaynor Church. This was agreed to, and Mr. Crawshay’s idea was speedily verified in the erection and opening of a place of worship at Vaynor.
Meanwhile the committee at Cefn, who themselves had worked hard, and subscribed to the best of their ability, were not so successful, in a financial sense, as was anticipated. Nevertheless, available funds were invested with a view to a commencement of the work at a convenient site near the Brecon and Merthyr Railway, the ground having been gratuitously granted by Mrs. Gwynne Holford.
The designs of the church having been prepared by Mr. G. E. Robinson, architect, Cardiff, the contract was taken by Mr. David Jenkins, builder, Merthyr, for a sum less than £2,000, and he has discharged his obligations most satisfactorily, under, perhaps, trying circumstances. Time does not allow of our entering here either into the circumstances which caused such delay in the completion of this work, or a description of the building itself. We may however say that within a short time since when the work of completion was undertaken under circumstances which will presently appear – the sacred house, partially pledged, remained for a protracted period with the doors and windows barricaded with boarding.
At last Mr. Crawshay, who had long since redeemed his promise by erecting a parish church, was appealed to for further help, and he at once gave directions that the church should be forthwith completed at his expense. This has been done, and a cheque for £200 from the Iron King, with a sum already in hand, satisfies the contractor. Of late a few ladies have rendered assistance to the committee by efforts in the shape of concerts, and solicitations of one shilling subscriptions, in order to provide certain details in connection with the building, which, it is computed, will cost altogether £2,000.
The edifice is substantially built, will accommodate 250 people, and prove a great boon to persons who have hitherto been compelled to either worship under the ministrations of the Rev. J. S. Williams, curate, in a temporary apartment, or journey to Merthyr in one direction, or Vaynor in another. The names of the gentlemen who have assiduously applied themselves in securing the church for Cefn are Messrs. W. T. Crawshay, C. E. Matthews, William Jones, and T. J. Pearce, who have been compelled to carry out the work solely from public subscriptions, not having received the slightest aid from any society.
The interior of the church can be pronounced complete, but the exterior surroundings suggest an unfinished appearance. A preliminary service was conducted in the church on Monday evening, when the Rev. John Jenkins, of Llanfrynach, preached in English, and the Rev. John Cunnick, deputation from the Church Pastoral Aid Society, in Welsh. The services yesterday were choral, and there was not the slightest ostentation displayed; a more appropriate and impressive ceremony being deferred till the grand opening ceremony on occasion of the thorough completion of the building.
The service, which commenced at 11 o’clock before a crowded congregation, was intoned by the Rev. Mr. Jones, rector of Dowlais. The Rev. J. Griffiths, rector of Neath, preached an eloquent discourse. Services were also held in the evening. We were unable at the time of the despatch of our parcel to ascertain the amount realised from offerings. The clergy and visitors were entertained by Mr. Wm. Crawshay, Mr. Matthews, and Mr. William Jones. Mrs. William Crawshay has contributed a beautiful altar cloth, and Mr. C. E. Matthews a Communion service.
