Tag: Station Arcade

Merthyr Central Library

by Carolyn Jacob

A ‘flourishing’ library existed in the Merthyr Tydfil Parish from 1846, although it consisted of only two dozen volumes collected by Thomas Stephens and Charles Wilkins. The books were originally for their ‘conversational club’ and believed to have been in the Temperance Room behind the Merthyr Market. Gradually a number of libraries developed in Merthyr Tydfil, Abercanaid, Aberfan, Dowlais, Penydarren, Thomastown, Treharris, Troedyrhiw and, outside the Parish, Cefn Coed. The ‘central’ library was located in the Town Hall from 1901 but transferred to two vacant shops in the Arcade by 1907. By 1918 The Arcade Library had a reference section and a sizeable number of books. In 1930 the Corporation had to find new premises for the Library and moved to 136 Lower High Street at an annual rental of £100. The Library was known as the Town Reading Room and both this library and the Thomastown Library closed in 1935 when the new Central Library opened.

Photo courtesy of the Alan George Archive

The Central Library, in a fine renaissance rectangular style, is a protected grade II historic building, it was purpose built and has always been a library. It was placed on vacant ground, given by the Council, which was once the site of the former St David’s School. The foundation stones were laid in 1935 and the building completed using money from the American Steel millionaire, Andrew Carnegie. The Carnegie Trust donated £4500 on condition there was an adequate book fund and that a properly trained and competent Librarian be appointed.

The Library was designed by Councillor T. Edmund Rees (of Messrs Johnson, Richards & Rees, architects of Merthyr) and built by Messrs Enoch Williams and Sons, contractors of Dowlais at a cost of £8,500. The exterior is in an Arts and Crafts Modern style with Portland stone, hipped Cumbrian slate roof swept to wide eaves. An attractive feature is the large central doorway and Tudor arch in moulded surround to entrance. The interior has a panelled wooden entrance-hall, although sadly the original oak wood, which is a wonderful feature of this building, was painted during refurbishment in 2011. The stained glass as you enter the building commemorates the Urdd National Eisteddfod which was held in Merthyr Tydfil in 1987. The building was opened in 1936 by the Mayor, Lewis Jones who became the first borrower of a book from Merthyr’s new Library.

The first librarian, Mr E. R. Luke received a salary of £330 a year and not only spoke Welsh fluently but he also had a working knowledge of French, German and Latin.  Merthyr Libraries have always provided a free library service for residents and visitors. The new library was a great success and the number of registered borrowers rose from 1400 in March 1936 to 10,765 by February 1940. As a child the historian Gwyn Alf Williams made ‘daring raids into alien territory in Merthyr Library’.

In 1946 Merthyr Tydfil became the first Authority in Wales to appoint a woman as Borough Librarian and an English woman at that – Margaret Stewart Taylor. She also became curator of the Cyfarthfa Castle Museum and was a remarkable local historian. Miss Taylor wrote 23 books on a wide variety of topics, a classic work on library cataloguing and classification, biography, local history such as ‘The Crawshays of Cyfarthfa’, travel writings based on her own experiences and romantic fiction set in a fictional town which was a thinly disguised Merthyr Tydfil. She compiled and edited ‘Fifty Years a Borough, 1905-1955’ to commemorate the incorporation of the Borough of Merthyr Tydfil. She set up a school library service and established local history as important in both the Library and the Museum. Margaret Stewart Taylor demanded high standards from her staff and would personally inspect the library shelves to make sure the books were all in strict order. A book incorrectly shelved would be left in the middle of the floor.

Margaret Stewart Taylor

The Plaque on the exterior of Merthyr Tydfil Library by the doorway is dedicated to Richard Lewis, (Dic Penderyn). At the time of the 1831 Merthyr Rising he was a miner in Merthyr Tydfil. He was charged with feloniously wounding Donald Black of the 93rd (Highland) Regiment. He was found guilty and sentenced to death. Despite a petition of 11,000 names for his reprieve, he was hanged at Cardiff on 13 August 1831. His last words on the scaffold were reported to be ‘O Arglwydd, dyma gamwedd’ – ‘O Lord, what injustice’. He is buried in Aberavon. Later in the century another man confessed to the crime for which Lewis had been hanged.

There is also a plaque on the front of the Central Library dedicated to Ursula Masson, who was born Ursula O’Connor in Dowlais, and became a leading Welsh academic and writer who worked closely with Jane Aaron and Honno Press/Gwasg Honno, the Welsh Women’s Press, on the imprint Welsh Women’s Classics – to bring back into print the works of forgotten Welsh women writers of the 19th and 20th centuries.

Outside the Library, the Statue and Plinth to Henry Seymour Berry are Grade II Listed monuments. The statue stands at the centre of a semicircular forecourt in front of the Library, and it was designed by W. Goscombe John RA and erected in 1931. It consists of a bronze figure in full robes with a cocked hat in the crook of his left arm and a parchment grasped in left hand.  The inscription:

Henry Seymour Berry, Baron Buckland of Bwlch, Hon. Freeman of the Co. Borough of Merthyr Tydfil.
Born 1877 – Died 1928.
Erected by public subscription.

There are recent plaques attached to the statue to mark the achievements of his two younger brothers. James Gomer Berry, Viscount Kemsley and William Ewert Berry, Viscount Camrose.

Merthyr Memories: Memories of Dowlais – part 2

by Sarnws

Ivor  Street  in particular had a reputation for being  generous to beggars, who  in those days would  just walk up the middle of the road, often silent, cap in hand, and the children would run in to tell their mothers, who in turn would spare a few coppers.

Ivor Street in the 1970’s, shortly before it was demolished. Photo courtesy of http://www.alangeorge.co.uk/index.htm

This was in the thirties. By now we had moved from “Merthyr” which generally describes Merthyr itself,  Dowlais, Penydarren,  Heolgerrig, Pant,  Georgetown  Twynyrodyn   etc.  One day I dashed in from the street, quite excited, to tell my mother that there was a beggar, cap in hand, walking down the middle of the road just chanting “Ho Hum, Ho Hum” repetitively.  She was as excited as I was and  in turn dashed out to put something in his hat.  It was a link with “home”, for he was well known to her.

I remember that beggars were quite a common sight.  My father in the very early nineteen hundreds, before going to work as an apprentice blacksmith, worked in Toomeys.  He was paying in to the bank one day when a beggar who used to push himself around, mounted on a small flat trolley with the aid if two short sticks, was paying in. When he reached the counter, the clerk checking in not an insignificant amount asked if he had had a good day.  The reply was, “Average”.

On a few occasions at about 8.30 pm on a Saturday there would be a message from one of the houses in Pontsarn or Pontsicill, to the effect that some friends had dropped in so would Mr. Toomey send up the brace of pheasants he had hanging. My father would be sent on the errand, having been given two-pence for the tram, and with the kind instruction that he needn’t come back.

Until the day she died, sadly quite young, if someone asked my mother when making her way to the train for her weekly visit, where she was going, the reply was always the same, “Home for the day”.

I remember my father, when  on a visit to Merthyr when Grandparents and Aunts and Uncles were still there, showing me the  Trevithick  memorial  in Pontmorlais, and being brought up with knowledge of the social and industrial heritage of  “Merthyr” and its contribution to the world.

Is it possible when the light is just right that a mirage of the Coal Arch can be seen?

Does the glow from the Bessemer converter still light the night sky?

When I  retired, thirty years ago I took the elderly aunt of a colleague to lunch in the Teapot Cafe at the end of the Station Arcade, which was the main exit  from Brunel’s  station. A lady came in with her husband, nodded to me and smiled.  She turned to her husband and I could see her say, ”I know that gentleman”. I could not place her, and just nodded as we left.

The Station Arcade in the 1980s. Photo courtesy of http://www.alangeorge.co.uk/index.htm

A little while later I saw her again in the company of friends or family one of whom I knew.  I was drawn into their company.  The lady had been living on Orpington as teacher and then head teacher for thirty-five years, so had not encountered me in that time.  It transpired that she remembered me from Dowlais  school, fifty years before.

My son has a silver pocket watch and chain, given to me by my uncle, of the same christian name just before he died.  It was bequeathed to him by an uncle, again of the same name.  His aunt had it serviced for him by the clockmaker half way up the arcade.  That must have been about 1920.

As you entered that clockmaker’s premises, facing you was a huge grandfather clock.  Integral with the  pendulum was a cylinder of mercury.  This expanded and contracted with temperature change, compensating for the temperature variation in the length of the pendulum rod, seemingly so simple a concept, but how brilliant.

I was telling a colleague, who had been brought up in Dowlais, but previously unknown to me, that I could remember standing under the railway bridge at the end of Station Road, sheltering from the rain, and watching the Fish and Chip shop opposite, in Victoria Street I think, burning down. He turned and said that he had been there too. That had happened, I think, in the winter of 38/39. Thirty-five years  or so before.

I have tooted the car horn many times on Johnny Owen, out for his morning run.  I always got a wave of the hand in return.  What a number of boxers and other sportspeople Merthyr has produced. The last years of my working life were in Merthyr, and being steeped in its history by my parents, it was interesting to encounter family names which were familiar to me, particularly the Spanish ones, as I was familiar with their family histories to some extent.

My parents are buried in Pant Cemetery, as are Grandparents, Aunts and Uncles, Cousins and more.  Whenever I visit I cannot but drive around Dowlais, now much changed, but a place to which I am still drawn.

Except for one year, October ‘38 to September ‘39, when I  attended  Dowlais  Junior  School, and was a  patient for three months in the childrens’  hospital which occupied the original Sandbrook  House, I have not lived in Merthyr since I was a baby. When I was discharged from Sandbrook House I had been indoors for nearly the whole of my stay and insisted on riding up as far as the Hollybush Hotel on the open top deck of the tram.  The era of the tram ended very shortly afterwards.

Sandbrook House. Photo courtesy of the Alan George Collection

I seem to have read or heard somewhere that nature has implanted within you a sacred and indissoluble attachment to the place of your birth and infant nurture, perhaps Tydfil’s martyrdom has created this aura about Merthyr which evokes such hiraeth.