Bethesda Street – Page 2 – The Melting Pot – Merthyr Tydfil's History and Culture

Memories of Old Merthyr

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.

From the work room of Mr Wm James, not only was there no storage or openings on that side of the High Street, but with the exception of three small shops adjoining the one on the corner of Glebeland Street, there was not a building of any kind.

The nearest i.e., the one first come to on the way up was the shop of a hairdresser named Davies. If I remember rightly, Bears Grease was considered the best one used on the human hair, and this Davies, upon one opening, had a bear hung up outside his shop, after the manner of butchers hanging calves brains was afterwards to be had, but whether the result of his enterprise was advantageous I know not.

Either in the next, or following shop above, a Mr McGregor sold garden seeds, and the corner shop belonged to Mr Edward Morgan, grocer, who had a wholesale trade too. Mr Morgan resided on the other side of the High Street. He was connected by marriage, I think, with the Jones’s and Evans’s of the Bank.

The Post Office was on the corner of Glebeland Street and High Street, on the same site as at present, but before describing it, or going further up we will return to Gillar Street and come up on the right hand side of High Street.

First there was a grocer’s shop, and then the Crown Inn – a Mrs Richards was the landlady. Above this was the druggist’s shop kept by Mrs Jenkins, the mother of the late Dr T J Dyke. She also had two sons of the name of Jenkins. John, a clergy-man, who went to Natal, was Fellow of Jesus College, Oxford, a canon of the Church, and became vicar of Aberdare. He was the most charitable of men, but the most absent-minded as a boy. Upon asking what he intended being, his reply, in all earnestness, was “the Bishop of Merthyr”. His brother James became a Roman Catholic priest, but did not live many years.

An advert from 1835 mentioning Mrs Jenkins’ Druggist shop

Next above was a draper’s shop. Mr John James kept it, and made money enough to go into the wholesale trade in Manchester, but returned in a few years to Merthyr, and built a large premises opposite which is Victoria Street and called the Cloth Hall.

The Cloth Hall. Photo courtesy of http://www.alangeorge.co.uk/index.htm

There was a yard with wooden doors, and on the other side a grocer’s shop was kept by Mr Christopher James. Upon Mr James’s removal this business went into the hands of Mr John Jones, who had been with Mr James for some time. Mr James himself the for a while carried on a wine and spirit business near the Bush Hotel, but only for a short time, as he removed to Swansea, and went into the coal trade.

This Mr Christopher James was a brother of the Mr William James already alluded to, and another brother was Mr Job James, a doctor living in Pontmorlais, one of whose sons, Mr Frank James, was for so many years clerk to the Merthyr Union. Mr Christopher James has several sons. Vice-Chancellor William Milbourne James was, I think, the oldest (see http://www.merthyr-history.com/?p=3084). Another was Mr David James, a tanner living on the side of the tramroad in Bethesda Street or Pontstorehouse.

Another son, Christopher, was in the shop with his father, and upon giving up a building on the canal bank which had been used as a storehouse for flour etc., 60 guineas were found hidden there, reputed to have belonged to him. Another son was the harbour master of Swansea 40 years ago, and his son succeeded him in that capacity for a short time. One of this Mr James’s daughters married a Mr Brock, the minister of the Unitarian Chapel in Swansea, and another Mr Joseph Henry Rowland, of the bank in Neath.

To be continued at a later date……

Merthyr’s First Synagogue

by Carl Llewellyn

With scant records regarding the Jewish migration to Merthyr Tydfil, I decided to research the beginnings of the Jewish community in the town. It has been reported that there has been a Jewish presence in Merthyr Tydfil since the 1820s. One example is Polish born Solomon and Leah Bloom, whose eldest daughter Ann was born in Poland in 1826, with their eldest son Abraham being born in Abercanaid in 1828. Subsequently all of Solomon and Leah Bloom’s other children were born in Merthyr Tydfil. Therefore Solomon and Leah Bloom came to Merthyr Tydfil around 1827.

With the rapid expansion in the iron industry in Merthyr, in the 1830’s another Jew named Joseph Barnett came to the town from Swansea. Joseph and his wife Sarah were born in Poland, all of their children were born in Swansea. Joseph Barnett opened a shop on Merthyr High Street – on the 1841 census it describes Joseph Barnett as a shopkeeper but in reality he was Pawnbroker. The 1841 census indicates there were at least 21 Jews living in Merthyr Tydfil.

With four iron works dominating the Merthyr Tydfil locality, more Jews escaping the persecution in the Russian controlled countries became attracted to Merthyr Tydfil, with business prospects either as Pawnbrokers, Hawkers or Glaziers.

By the late 1840’s the number of Jews trebled. Up until now the Jewish religious services may have been held either at Solomon Bloom’s or Joseph Barnett’s houses, it was rumoured a synagogue was located in the area of Bethesda Street and Brecon Road, but there is no evidence of this whatsoever. However a synagogue did exist at the rear of No 28 Victoria Street – Joseph Barnett’s pawnshop. Below is an extract from an 1851 map of Merthyr showing this synagogue.

The usual date given for the establishment of the Merthyr Hebrew Congregation was 1848, but statistics for Merthyr Tydfil dated 1846 clearly states that a Jewish place of worship existed with 30 seats and 25 in attendance at services. As the statistics were published in 1846 it could be determined the figures were probably collated in 1845. Yet in T. E. Clarke’s guide to Merthyr Tydfil dated 1848 it does not mention the existence of a synagogue in Merthyr Tydfil.

At that time there was a Rabbi by the name of Barnett Asher Simmons. According to Ben Hamilton’s article “The Hebrew Community” he visited Merthyr Tydfil and officiated at services for the Merthyr Tydfil Hebrew congregation before the arrival of Rabbi Harris Isaacs from Ipswich, in 1850.

Harris Isaacs, a widower, had served the Jewish community at Ipswich for 27 years before coming to Merthyr, and living at 53 Glebeland St. His calling as a Rabbi did not provide him with living wage so he opened a Pawnshop to supplement his income.

By 1852 the number of Jewish families in Merthyr Tydfil had grown considerably, and congregants were in want of a larger place of worship. An appeal was sent to the Jewish Chronicle for assistance with funding for a new synagogue, Adverts appeared in the Jewish Chronicle dated 27 February 1852, 12 March 1852 and 9 April 1852. Below is the notice which appeared in each edition giving a list of donations, which included 18 members of the Merthyr Hebrew congregation.

When sufficient money had been collected, the Jewish elders of Merthyr Tydfil began making preparations for acquiring a site and requesting quotations from builders to build a new synagogue. The laying of the foundation stone for the new synagogue, which was situated behind the Temperance Hall, took place on 28 May 1852, and it took another eight months for the new synagogue to be completed. The Cardiff and Merthyr Guardian Glamorgan Monmouth and Brecon Gazette dated 19 February 1853 mentioned the inaugural ceremony took place 22 February 1853, when the Chief Rabbi A. L. Green of the Great Synagogue, London officiated on the occasion. Sadly there are no newspaper reports giving a detailed account of the opening of the Synagogue, but it was reported that there was accommodation for 93 persons, with 60 seats reserved for Jewish gentlemen, and 33 seats for Jewish ladies. Seat rentals ranged from £5.4s to £1.6s per annum.

An excerpt from an 1860 map of Merthyr showing the second synagogue

The Holm Oak in Bethesda Street

by Clive Thomas

It was different when it was planted I suppose, whenever that was. Now it stands near a modern, regulated cross roads dedicated to ensuring the smooth running of traffic from one side of the town to the other. You see only a few pedestrians here and vehicle owners drive past, or sometimes frustrated, are required to halt and give their attention to the traffic lights. It does have some other green company now though from more recently Council-planted shrubs and small trees, but for many years it would have stood somewhat incongruously alone, alongside a very busy roadway. Its age is difficult to guess but it must certainly have been witness to many changes in the surrounding area. It stands sentinel with a strangely oriented boxer’s statue and the small but colourful memorial to a demolished chapel which only hint at the area’s rich heritage.

Aerial photograph of Bethesda Street. The Holm Oak can be seen prominently in the centre of the photograph, with Bethesda Chapel to the right and Abermorlais School at the bottom right. Photo courtesy of the Alan George archive.

This thoroughfare was originally called Jackson’s Street, after the contractor who was commissioned in 1793 by the Dowlais Ironworks to build the stone arched bridge which still straddles the River Taff nearby. Although giving the rapidly increasing population of Georgetown and Heolgerrig, an alternative means of crossing the river from the more famous Iron Bridge, this bridge’s main purpose was to carry the tram road from the Dowlais Works to the canal warehouse and wharf on the Glamorganshire Canal. The tramroad would remain a vital link for the Dowlais Company for many years, and thousands of tons of iron would have been carried this way by teams of horse drawn wagons. As the town developed and more cottages built, junctions were created here, with Quarry Row leading into the riverside community of Caepantywyll and the Vulcan Road climbing the slope to Brewery Street and Sunnybank. Towards Pontmorlais, Bethesda Chapel had been built in 1811 and its name would eventually replace that of Mr. Jackson. Over a period of years, the area became overlooked by the tip of furnace waste from the Penydarren Ironworks, which continued to grow towards the river for most of the first half of the nineteenth century. It was between this British Tip, Jackson’s Bridge and the Taff that the notorious area of slum dwellings called ‘China’ would grow up.

Bethesda Street in 1967. The Holm Oak is clearly visible. Photo courtesy of the Alan George archive.

In the 1970’s however, great changes were taking place hereabouts. The re-configuration of the road system and the construction of a new Taff bridge required the demolition of many adjacent houses. Lawn Terrace, Garden Street, Paynters Terrace, along with The Old Tanyard Inn and Bethesda Chapel all disappeared. The removal of a substantial portion of the British Tip meant that whole area underwent considerable change. Surprisingly and against all odds, the tree survived and remained healthy. As a result of representations from the Merthyr and District Naturalists’ Society, whose members became concerned about its survival, it was made the subject of a Tree Preservation Order under the 1974 Wildlife and Countryside Act.

Bethesda Street from the British Tip in 1989. The Holm Oak stands proud at the centre of the photograph. Courtesy of Clive Thomas

Quercus ilex, the Holm Oak belongs in Mediterranean climes and unlike our more familiar Sessile (Qercuspetraea) and Pedunculate (Quercusrobur) species, it is evergreen. Holm is the ancient English name for holly bush and it is indeed so like a holly that it is often mistaken for one. Its sombre evergreen foliage casts a very dense shade that nothing can grow beneath it and reflects the climatic conditions found in its native lands. There, the winter is rainy but fairly warm, while summers are dry and hot so thick waxy foliage is required to check undue loss of moisture. The tree is also unusual amongst the oaks in that its acorns take two years to mature. The species was first introduced into Britain in the sixteenth century at Mamhead Park, Devon and a large population is to be found on the Isle of Wight. It has naturalised in a number of areas of southern Britain.

One can only speculate at how it might have arrived in Merthyr Tydfil. The fairly close proximity of Cyfarthfa Park might offer one explanation. Several exotic species were imported by the Crawshay Family to enhance the landscaped parkland which surrounded their newly built gothic home. There are numerous Turkey Oaks (Quercuscerrris) on the banks of the Taf-Fechan near Cefn Coed which might have had their origins within the confines of the park. It is possible that this tree might have arrived as part of a consignment of saplings or perhaps even grown from a single acorn. Ironically now however, the species is thought to damage aspects of biodiversity in this country and is listed as an alien invader. Despite our own specimen’s somewhat anomalous existence, I hope it remains in situ for many more years.

Shop Floor Collapse

Below is a transcription of an article that appeared in the Weekly Mail 110 years ago today (4 April 1908):

SHOP-FLOOR COLLAPSE

OYSTER-BAR MISHAP AT MERTHYR

There, was an alarming occurrence at an oyster saloon in Glebeland Street, Merthyr, yesterday, the stone flooring of the shop giving way and several persons having narrow escapes from being killed.

Mrs. Flower, the occupier, was out at the time, and a servant-maid, named Flye, was standing behind the counter talking to her brother, and there were three other lads also in the shop. The boys were precipitated into the cellar below, but Flye saved himself from falling by clinging to the counter, which remained intact.

One of the lads, who lives in Paynters Terrace, Bethesda Street, was rather badly hurt, and was taken home in a cab, but, beyond shock, the others escaped injury.

On the surface of it this is a simple article, but it is also an fascinating study of social history. For instance – who knew that there was an oyster bar in Glebeland Street? Indeed, who knew that there was an oyster bar in Merthyr at all? Also, there are some interesting facts there for family historians and genealogists.

I think that so much can be learned from looking at old newspapers – sometimes you can learn far more from papers than from reading a serious history book.