From the Merthyr Times 150 years ago today….
A Visit to the Truant School
Tag: The Richards Arms (Abercanaid)
Merthyr’s Girl-Collier
One hundred and sixteen years ago today, the following story broke in the Evening Express, and went on to grip the town for several weeks.
Six days previously, on Monday 30 September 1901, a fifteen-year-old girl had been found working as a boy in one of the Plymouth Ironworks’ collieries.
When interviewed, the girl, Edith Gertrude Phillips, said that she lived with her father, a pitman, her mother and five siblings at the Glynderis Engine House in Abercanaid, but was beaten and forced to do all the housework by her mother when her father was at work. On the previous Friday, her mother had ‘knocked her about the head, shoulders and back with her fists’ for not finishing the washing, so Edith decided to leave home. She dressed in some clothes belonging to her older brother, cut her hair, threw her own clothes into the Glamorganshire Canal, and walked to Dowlais Ironworks to look for a job.
Unable to secure employment in Dowlais, Edith then went to the South Pit of the Plymouth Colliery, and got a job with a collier named Matthew Thomas as his ‘boy’. She found lodgings at a house in Nightingale Street in Abercanaid, and it was there on Monday 30 September that she was discovered by P.C. Dove. The alarm had been raised about Edith’s disappearance by her father on the Friday evening, and following searches throughout the weekend, someone recognised the disguised Edith at her lodgings in Nightingale Street. Edith refused to go back to her parents, and in the ensuing arguments, collapsed from nervous exhaustion and was taken to Merthyr Infirmary.
The National Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children immediately started investigating the case, and Edith’s parents were questioned thoroughly. In the meantime, as news of the case leaked out, there was an outpouring of support for Edith, and dozens of people came forward with offers of support for her, some from as far afield as Surrey and Sussex. A committee was formed to start a fund to help Edith, and the met at the Richards Arms in Abercanaid, just a week after the news broke, and a public appeal was made for money to help her.
Despite the ongoing investigation by the N.S.P.C.C. and the countless offers from people to provide a good home to Edith, the Merthyr Board of Guardians, in their infinite wisdom, decided that the girl should be sent home to her parents upon her release from the Infirmary. Edith was indeed released and sent home to her parents on 31 October, but within hours, she was removed from the house by the N.S.P.C.C. and taken to the Salvation Army Home in Cardiff.
No more is mentioned in the newspapers about Edith until 8 February 1904, when the Evening Express reported that she had been living in Cardiff, but as the money raised to help her had run out, she had to leave her home. As she was in very poor health, she was unable to find work, so she had appealed to the Merthyr Board of Guardians to allow her to come back to Merthyr, and to enter the Workhouse. A doctor told the Board that Edith didn’t have long to live, so they agreed to allow her to return.
This is the last report about Edith in any of the newspapers, but thanks to the sterling work of Mike Donovan of the Merthyr Branch of the Glamorgan Family History Society, I have been able to discover that Edith didn’t actually die at the workhouse, she recovered and went on to work, in service, at a house in Penydarren, and died in 1963 at the age of 77.
Merthyr Memories: An Abercanaid Childhood
by Ken Brewer
I was born in 1937, so my memories begin during the War when I was about 3 years old, and I started school. I clearly remember carrying a cardboard box that contained my gas-mask, and during school lessons the bell would go, and we were all ushered into the yard and instructed to lie lay on our stomachs in case there was an air raid. The classes in those days numbered about 40 pupils due to the influx of evacuees, so the teachers were very busy.
Abercanaid itself was very self-supporting, meeting the needs of the people who lived there. There were two bakers, a butcher and three grocery shops, plus a number of small corner shops. There was also an official ‘layer-out’ for the village, and when we saw the elderly lady in question hurrying along with her little bag, you knew someone had passed away.
What went on in the village, mostly centred around the church and the chapels. St Peter’s was the church, and the chapels were: Sion Independent Chapel, Deml Baptist Chapel and ‘my chapel’ Graig Methodist Chapel. The members of these chapels and church would regularly stage concerts and amateur dramatic performances to entertain the villagers. For the children there was ‘Band of Hope’ and ‘Rechabites’ so we rarely left the village. As children, we didn’t have chance of misbehaving – everyone knew everyone so any misdemeanours would soon reach our parents.
As in most places, the pubs outnumbered the chapels. In Abercanaid we had The Colliers Arms, The Richards Arms, The Glamorgan Arms, The Llwyn-yr-Eos Inn, the Duffryn Arms (also known as the Teapot), and in Upper Abercanaid – The White Hart.
We also had our own Police Station, Library, football ground – The Ramblers, and a Social Centre on the Canal Bank which was built by the villagers themselves. Abercanaid was also served by two Railway Stations – Pentrebach Station on the Merthyr to Cardiff line, and Abercanaid Station on the old Rhymney Line.
If anyone wanted to know where someone lived, you could tell that person, not just the street, but the exact house. Neighbours were so important, and everyone was ready to help in an emergency. During the war everything was in short supply, floor coverings consisted of home-made rag mats or coconut matting. My family were considered posh because we had some carpet mats! The items were actually hand-me-downs; my mother had worked for Price Brothers, the bakers and wholesale merchants in Merthyr, for over 25 years, so when their carpets were beginning to wear, they replaced them, and the old ones were given to my mother. Many times I came home from school to find the carpets missing from the front room – when I asked about them I was always told that “Mrs So-and-so has visitors so she has borrowed the carpets”.
Another incident I recall occurred one Sunday lunchtime. The meat was cooked, and the vegetables were ready, and my grandmother (who lived with us) was making the gravy. There was a knock at the door, and a close neighbour stood there in tears, distraught because her brother and three children had turned up from Cardiff and she didn’t have enough meat to give them for lunch. The result was that she had our meat and we managed on vegetables and gravy! I wonder if such a thing would happen today?
Things were undoubtedly hard at that time in Abercanaid, as elsewhere, but I’m sure the wonderful community in our village helped us to cope a lot better with the deprivations and stresses of the time.