Author: merthyr.history@gmail.com

The Memories of a Child Evacuee from Folkestone to Merthyr Tydfil, 1940 – part 2

by Peter Campbell

THE EVACUATION

I am not quite sure of the date. It must have been around May 1940.

Mum, Dad and Harry Campbell 1942

I was six years old. I lived in a lovely seaside town on the south coast of England called Folkestone in Kent with my Mum and Dad and 3 sisters and my 5 brothers. I was very proud of my eldest brother Harry he was in the RAF.

I went to a Catholic school called ‘Stella Maris’ with my sisters Pat and Ivy and two brothers Gordon and Terry they were all older than me. My teacher was called Sister St Teresa and our Head was Sister St John.

One day we were all at school assembly as every morning, I never used to listen to very much; I would be looking out of the window up at the sky to see if I could see any fighter planes. Our Head Mistress was telling us that because of the war and the risk of bombing, the government said it would be necessary for all the school children to be sent to a part of the country that would be safe from any bombs. We would be going to a town in South Wales called Merthyr Tydfil, we had no idea where Wales was or how far away, my sister said it was over 200 miles. I thought it would be very nice to go away on holiday it sounded like fun, but what I did not realise was that my Mum and Dad and my little brothers, too young to be at school, would not be coming with us and we would have to stay there until the war was over.

I couldn′t wait to get home a tell my Mum and Dad but they already knew and were very sad, they did not want us to go to a strange place on our own, but we knew our teachers were coming with us, so it would not be too bad and the whole school would be together.

During the next week we were all busy getting our things together we would not be able to take any toys just things like change of clothes, underwear, pyjamas, soap, toothbrush, shoes and such like, but I did manage to stuff my teddy ‘Chuckles’ in.

The school said we would get new things when we got to our new homes. Then the day came for us to leave home – we all met at school about 100 children. Our teachers called the register to make sure we were all present then tied labels on our coat collars, which had not to be taken off because it had our Name, Address, School and Age also where we were going to.

We all had to carry our gas masks which we had been doing for a long time, our little parcels of clothes, and we were taken to the railway station where there was a very long train waiting. We said goodbye to our Mums and Dads everybody was crying but we all tried to be brave and hoped we would all be together again soon. As the train left the station everybody was still waving, There were over 800 children on the train from all schools in Folkestone and Dover, we sat down and cried but our teachers said come on let′s all sing and we did.

It was about 10 in the morning and a very hot sunny day we were told that we would be stopping at stations on the way to get refreshments, and would reach Merthyr Tydfil by 2 in the afternoon. It was a terrible journey the sun was too hot through the windows of the train and there were air raids. The train had to stop just in case the German planes bombed the rails or the train. My brown paper parcel got very hot in the sun which gave of a funny smell I was very sick we did not reach Merthyr Tydfil until 5.30pm.

There were no buses to meet us so we were told we would have to walk to a mission hall, which was at the top of this steep hill. We set off to walk in twos hand in hand, People were lining the street right to the top, waving flags and cheering. I think they were trying to make us welcome, some were crying especially the women I suppose they felt sorry for us. Half way up the hill the string on my parcel came off and I dropped everything all over the street. Some kind ladies ran forward and picked them all up, wrapped them up again and carried it up to the mission hall.

To be continued…….

Many thanks to Les Haigh for giving me permission to reproduce this article. To see the original please visit:-

http://www.leshaigh.co.uk/folkestone/evacuee.html

The Memories of a Child Evacuee from Folkestone to Merthyr Tydfil, 1940 – part 1

by Peter Campbell

MEMORIES BEFORE EVACUATION

All of a sudden life became very strange to me as a little boy six years old. I didn′t know what was happening, Shops were all being boarded up big tin sheds were being built in tunnels under the ground at the end of the streets; they were called air raid shelters. All along the sands where we played was all sealed off with rolls of barbed wire it was all very confusing.

Everybody seemed to be wearing uniforms soldiers, sailors, airmen even the women were dressed up as nurses. There were armoured cars, tanks, lorries full of soldiers all over the place. My Dad said it′s OK it′s just in case the enemy try to attack us. Then we saw great big grey balloons in the sky with big ears we thought a circus was coming to town, Dad said no the balloons had a lot of strong wires hanging from them this was to try to bring down enemy planes that would come in low to drop their bombs. At school we were all given a cardboard box with a long string tied to it inside was an ugly thing, a rubber mask this was a gas mask which everybody had to wear just in case there was a Gas attack.

Henry and Rosina Campbell – Peters parents

Every day we would have to put them on for a short while just to practice, we thought it was funny because we all looked like monsters! Also, if you blew hard when you had them on it made very rude noises! We were told if we did not have a mask on we would be very sick, so everywhere we went from that day on the box went with you hung around your neck. Grownups had them, they even had one you could put a baby in! My Mum and Dad were putting brown sticking tape all over the windows, and hanging black sheets they looked terrible and dark. We were told it was necessary to stop any lights shining out at night and anyway there were men patrolling the streets they wore black tin helmets with the letters A.R.P. painted on them and if they saw a light they would bang on the door a shout “Put that light out”. We asked why they had letters on the helmets Dad said it stood for Air Raid Precautions they were volunteers just helping to make us safe. Cars had special black hoods over their headlights; this we were told was all done so that enemy planes would not be able to see our town at night.

Down at the bottom of the garden my Dad built a big shed and put a heavy roof on it and a door I thought it was going to be a den for us to play in because it had lots of things in it bunk beds, blankets, tins of biscuits and cakes, drinks, books and comics, but he said no it was a shelter which we would all use if necessary to keep us safe. I did not understand what he meant.

When the air raid sirens started I was very frightened Dad said they were just testing, if it was a wining noise up and down it was danger when it was a long blast it was the all clear. Many times we would have to get up to go in the shelter but Mum made us sandwiches and hot drinks and we would sing and play games. I thought it was great at night you could see big beams of light sweeping across the sky Dad said they were search lights looking for enemy planes. Once or twice I remember it was too wet to go outside so we hid under the stairs, we were lucky we heard plenty of bangs but nothing else. Some houses further down were damaged but nobody told me anything.

My Dad always had the radio on at night so we had to be very quiet.

I remember we used to climb up a big grassy hill called Sugar Loaf Hill it looked right down on to the harbour and out into the Channel, we used to watch the ships out at sea and see big splashes in the water nearly hitting the boats and aeroplanes up in the sky then coming down very low we saw some crash into the sea making very big splashes, we thought it was very exciting – but we really did not understand what was happening.

One day at school the siren sounded so we all had to go down in the air raid shelters which had been dug in the sides of the bank with seats and lights and plenty of things to play with. We sat there with our teachers they gave us chocolate and lemonade and we were singing when there was a very loud bang it really shook the ground around us. It was very frightening then it all went quiet, when the all clear siren went we all came out. Our school was alright but on the golf course which is right near our school there was clouds of smoke and a very big hole with a plane sticking out of it, its tail high in the air with a funny cross on it, we were told it was a German plane.

I could not get home fast enough to tell my Dad as he worked at the RAF station in Folkestone but he already knew all about it. I was so disappointed that he knew before me, he said it had tried to bomb the station but was shot down by one of our planes.

So things were getting worse more and more air raids everybody looked sad, some days we couldn′t get to school because of holes in the roads, I did not worry too much as we could play at home, but Mum and Dad were not happy…..

To be continued…….

Many thanks to Les Haigh for giving me permission to reproduce this article. To see the original please visit:-

http://www.leshaigh.co.uk/folkestone/evacuee.html

Happy New Year

Happy New Year to everyone. Let’s hope that 2022 will be a bit better than the last couple of years and that we continue to stay safe and healthy!!!!

I hope you are continuing to enjoy reading this blog. I certainly enjoy putting it together as I am learning so much about Merthyr’s fascinating history. I would like to thank everyone who has contributed articles over the last year – they have all been fascinating, and I hope that there will be many more contributions this year.

Quite a number of people commented very favourably about the recent article about Christmas Memories. I’m sure there are lots of people out there with fascinating memories of specific things in Merthyr’s past – memories of a certain area, a certain event, a certain organisastion or even a certain person. If you have, please share them….I know everyone would enjoy reading them.

If anyone would like to contribute something to this blog – please get in touch. It doesn’t matter if you are a seasoned historian or a first-timer – if you feel that you have something you would like to share, send me a message via the e-mail address to the right.

Give it a go – I would love to hear from you.

I would also like to thank everyone who has made a donation to help keep the site going – it really does make it so much easier to keep the site up and running. Your generosity is greatly appreciated.

The District Nurse Always Got There

by Mansell Richards

Prior to the 1960s and the arrival of the mass-produced, affordable motor car, district nurses visited their patients on foot or by bus. These hard- working ladies often walked miles in extremely bad weather,- rain,  hail, snow and gale force winds.

One such lady was Nurse Frances Evans of Muriel Terrace, Caeharris, Dowlais. The mother of two children – David and Dwynwen; she had, sadly, lost an eight year old son, Elwyn to diphtheria in 1938, a child-killing disease of the time.

For several years during the 1950s her once-a-week journey was sometimes unusual to say the least.

Normally, she travelled every Tuesday on the 1.15PM train from Caeharris Railway Station  (located behind the Antelope Hotel on upper Dowlais High Street) to the  isolated, windswept former coal-mining community  of Cwmbargoed some 4 miles away,  the home of her elderly patient, former miner, Mr Horace Morgan. He was a surgical case who needed skilled attention every week. Back in those days the isolated village of Cwmbargoed was situated on the main line from Dowlais to Bedlinog.

THE COLLIERS’ TRAIN

Nurse Evans always referred to this train as ‘The Colliers’ Train’, recalling vivid  memories of her younger days when hundreds of colliers disembarked every afternoon at Caeharris Station from ‘The Cwbs’, (these were old, basic carriages with wooden benches for seats). These colliers were returning to their homes having completed their early morning shifts in the pits at Cwmbargoed, Fochriw and Bedlinog etc. With so many pit closures between the wars however, far fewer colliers by the 1950s were travelling on this route.

Meanwhile after puchasing a ticket at the ticket office (priced 6d each way), Nurse Evans would begin her journey to Cwmbargoed. But with other patients to visit, she would sometimes miss the 1.15pm train, the next train leaving some three hours later. On these occasions she would be given a lift by other means. But no ordinary train this. It consisted of a single steam-driven locomotive and a guard’s van. She would be offered the only seat and would sit uncomfortably, behind the kindly driver and his sweating, grime-faced, coal-shovelling fireman.

Dowlais colliers returning home c. 1930 by Dewi Bowen

JOURNEY’S END

On arrival at Cwmbargoed Nurse Evans would have a ten minute walk to the home of old Mr Morgan. On one occasion she fell into a snow drift and was rescued by a passing workman who heard her cries for help.

All district nurses had large areas to cover and they walked miles every day. In some parts of the country, some may well have adopted the means of transport favoured by a nurse in the modern, 1950s-based television series ‘Call The Midwife’, by making use of a bicycle. However, there is no evidence of local nurses relying on this method of transport.

Needless to say Nurse Evans, who retired in 1962 enjoyed her occasionally unusual  journey inside a hot and noisy  steam  locomotive, across the lonely, windswept moorland above the town of Merthyr Tydfil.

Older folk may recall Nurse Evans, a kind and gentle lady, who was held in great affection by her patients during the 1950s and early 60s.

(This story was taken from an article in the Merthyr Express on 8 March 1958. Meanwhile, I thank Sian Anthony, Dowlais Library Service, Terry Jones, John Richards and the family of the late Dewi Bowen for their valuable assistance).

Merthyr’s Chapels: Zoar Chapel

Zoar Welsh Independent Chapel

In 1794 a group of worshippers dissatisfied with the form of worship at Ynysgau Chapel left to start their own cause, and met in the Long Room of the Crown Inn; paying £6 a year for the hire of the room. In 1797 the congregation asked Mr Howell Powell of Newport to come and minister to them, and within a year they decided to build their own chapel.

An extensive piece of land was acquired to build a new chapel and the building began in 1798. The land that was acquired stretched from the main road to the Morlais Brook, and was leased for the sum of 12 guineas per annum, but the congregation could not pay that sum of money. Consequently, Mr Henry Thomas or Harri’r Blawd as he was frequently called, took the lease from them and gave them the land on which the present chapel is now built for a rent of £3.7s.

Despite this, the congregation still struggled to find the money to build the chapel, but thanks to a number of donations, the chapel was finally completed in 1803. With the new chapel completed, the members asked Rev Daniel Lewis to become their first minister.

From the outset of his ministry, Rev Lewis was determined to clear the chapel’s debt and thus travelled to London to raise money. On his return however, he presented the chapel with a list of his expenses incurred during his trip. Several of the members objected to the amount of the expenses and instigated an investigation by several ministers from other church. The investigation exonerated Rev Lewis, but those members who had instigated the investigation were unhappy the result and left to start their own cause, which eventually became Bethesda Chapel.

Within two years of this controversy, Rev Lewis decided to leave the chapel, and in 1810 Rev Samuel Evans (right) was ordained as minister, and it was under his ministry that the chapel began to prosper and eventually became one of the most important chapels in the area.

With Rev Evans’ influence the congregation grew rapidly, and in 1825 a new chapel was built at a cost £600. The membership increased steadily, but sadly Rev Samuel Evans died on 27 June 1833 at the age of 56.

For two years following Rev Evans’ death the chapel was without a minister as the members felt that it would be impossible to find someone qualified enough to fill the place of “twysog a’r gwr mawr oedd wedi syrthio” (the prince and great man who had fallen).

However, before the end of 1835, Rev Benjamin Owen (right) from Pembrokeshire was invited to become minister of the chapel. Rev Owen proved to be a worthy successor to Samuel Evans, and the chapel went from strength to strength.

By 1840 the congregation had once again grown considerably and it was decided to once again build a new chapel. Rev Owen was himself a gifted architect, and he designed the new building. The stonework was completed by Messrs Thomas Williams and David Richards, and the woodwork by John Gabe. The new chapel, one of the biggest in Wales, was completed in 1842 at a cost of £2300.

In 1849 Merthyr was hit by a devastating cholera epidemic in which 1,682 people died in Merthyr and Dowlais alone. In the aftermath of this, a religious revival occurred in the town and hundreds of people joined the congregation at Zoar, with 120 people actually being accepted into the church on one Sunday alone.

Due to the increase of numbers, in 1854 it was decided to build two schoolrooms at a cost of £800 – one in Caedraw and one in Pwllyrwhiad. In 1867 another large schoolroom was built in front of the chapel. Two houses were bought to make room for the building and the schoolroom was built at a cost of £550. In 1907, another large schoolroom was built at Queens Road at a cost of £750.

Zoar Schoolroom, Queen’s Road

By 2009, the membership of the chapel had dwindled to just six people, and it was reluctantly decided to close the chapel.

The chapel is now listed Grade II, as being of Special Architectural and Historic Interest.

The future of the chapel is ensured as it has been bought by Canolfan a Menter Gymraeg Merthyr Tudful and has been given a grant pledge of £527,000 from the Heritage Lottery Fund to transform the Chapel and Vestry buildings into a centre for performing arts and community activities. The project has also been supported with £300,000 from the Heads of the Valleys programme.

The new complex opened in 2011 and it is now a highly regarded and very important hub in the town.

The interior of Zoar Chapel just before it was converted into Canolfan Soar

Merthyr Memories: Memories of Christmas

by Laura Bray

Christmas is always a time of nostalgia, always tinted with that golden glow! So when Steve asked me to share my memories of Christmas, it was hard to think of a place or time, there were so many to chose from.

But in the end, I focused on the early 1980s and I hope this resonates with some of you.

For me, Christmas has always been predominantly a religious festival, wrapped round with music. We knew we were getting close, when St David’s Church choir, or the Cyfarthfa School Girls Choir, both under Derry Prothero’s capable leadership, dusted off the Christmas anthems, usually in about October! Also, rehearsals with the Cyfarthfa School Mixed Choir under the leadership of Ian Hopkins, were held at around the same time.

Cyfarthfa School Mixed Choir in the 1980s with Ian Hopkins (front). Photo courtesy of the Alan George Archive

In the case of the Girls Choir it was things like Britten’s “This Little Babe” difficult, but effective, cannoning round the church,  or Elgar’s “Snow” and the more traditional “Adam Lay a-Bounden” as well as three-part “Ding Dong Merrily”.  All practised in school and culminating in a half day rehearsal in the church itself and an early finish!

In the church choir – which then consisted of around 30 choristers-  there were endless rehearsals for The Nine Lessons service;  of “Once in Royal” for the procession, and the traditional anthems such as  “In the Bleak Mid Winter”, “The Sussex Carol” “Joy to the World’ or Rutter’s “Angel Carol”.  Derry was great at mixing the much loved oldies, with some newer works.

St David’s Church Choir with Derry Prothero (far right). Photo courtesy of Caroline Owen

By mid December we had sang for the school carol concert before the end of term, and, for those of us who were also in the church choir,  for the Nine Lessons and Carols on the 4th Sunday in Advent. I remember the descants we sang – always challenging and always high, and always “can belto”!

For a couple of years after the Nine Lessons, as if we hadn’t sung enough,  the church  choir then headed out to the streets around the church – Twyn Hill, and Thomastown mostly  – and belted out, from memory and in full 4 part harmony, all of the stalwarts “Hark the Herald”, “O Come All Ye Faithful”, “O Little Town of Bethlehem”, “Away in a Manger” and so on, to raise money for the church organ fund. We sang in the middle of the road while a couple of us knocked on doors with our rattling tins, taking requests and asking for contributions. Few people turned us down.  We sang till we were cold and hoarse. Not even Sandbrook House, then a nursing home, escaped the carol singing!

On Christmas Eve itself I would wait to hear the Salvation Army Band, playing carols round the streets, before heading down to the Vulcan with my friends for Christmas drinks. Not too many, mind, as we were back in church for the Midnight Mass at 11.30 and more carols, including one of my absolute favourites –  “It Came Upon a Midnight Clear”. The service always began by candlelight, and the church lit up gradually until it was flooded with colour, light and sparkle, and you could see who was there. Sometimes old choristers came to join us, swelling the numbers of the choir even further.

The Vulcan (pre the 1980s). Photo courtesy of the Alan George Archive

The Midnight was always packed and was a great place to catch up with friends and acquaintances who had moved from Merthyr but come home for Christmas. The atmosphere was magical and lively!

We always finished with “Hark the Herald” – sometimes sung with more enthusiasm than accuracy at the end of weeks of singing and a touch of alcohol!

Then home to bed. Another Christmas celebrated. And the echo of music in the night.