Brecon and Merthyr Railway – Page 2 – The Melting Pot – Merthyr Tydfil's History and Culture

The Railways of Romance – part 1

Today marks the 140th anniversary of the birth of one of Merthyr’s greatest writers – J. O. Francis. To mark the occasion, one of his excellent short essays is transcribed below, following a short introduction by Mary Owen who wrote a marvellous biography of him.

John Oswald Francis (J.O.) was born at 15, Mary Street, Twynyrodyn in 1882, and lived later at 41, High Street, next door to Howfields, when his father, a blacksmith, opened a farrier shop in the busy shopping centre. In 1896 he entered the County Intermediate and Technical School on the day of its opening and benefited greatly, like many others, from the education he received there. It formed the grounding for the rest of his life. A blacksmith’s life was not for him. In 1900, he gained a scholarship to University College of Wales, Aberystwyth, where he graduated with first class honours in English.

He lived for the rest of his life in London, where he was well known as a dramatist, journalist, broadcaster and a popular public speaker. He found fame in 1913 with his play, Change, about ordinary Welsh working-class people and the problems they were facing as changes were taking place in politics, religion and education. It was the first of its kind and gave a new genre to drama, which influenced writers for decades. Although he lived away from Merthyr Tydfil for most of his life, his knowledge of it in his youth inspired him to write about it in the years that followed until his death in 1956. His many short comedies helped to bring about the popularity of amateur dramatics, especially in Glamorgan. He was a pioneer and he became a leading member of the First Welsh National Drama Movement. He was regarded as ‘a distinguished dramatist, ‘a gentle satirist, and ‘always a Merthyr boy’.

Mary Owen

The Railways of Romance

None of us can determine which of the impressions we are always unconsciously receiving is being most deeply written on our minds. What abides is, often enough, that which might least be expected to remain. It is, too, sometimes a little incongruous, as if memory were in part jester, playing tricks with recollection – perhaps in kindness – lest the past should have too grim a visage.

Setting up to be a serious and philosophic person, I must confess to some perplexity over my remembrance of South Wales. There is an interloping thought that persists in creeping into the midst of more exalted memories. I cannot think of the high places of my early destiny – my home, my school, the houses of my more generous relations, and the chapel of my juvenile theology – but that a railway station crowds unasked into the mental scene. In the station of that Town of the Martyr in Glamorgan, an there, no doubt, small boys, stealing away from the harsh realities of the High Street, still snatch a fearful joy upon the trolleys, and staring away past the signal box, weave for themselves the figments of young romance.

Merthyr Railway Station in the early 1900s. Photo courtesy of the Alan George Archive

The small boy’s zest in railway stations has, I may argue in self-defence, a basis in the deep instincts of humanity. In the old primitive world the barbarian, looking up on the sun, was overwhelmed by a sense of its vast power. He made a god of it, and bowed in reverence. So, also, that unequivocal barbarian, the average small boy, beholds in a railway engine an example of power well within the range of his understanding. It is, perhaps, the same old instinct of adoration that kindles in every healthy youngster his burning desire to be a railway-guard.

Even in this riper stage, when life holds joys more attractive than the right to blow the whistle and to jump authoritatively upon a moving train, I find that a railway station can still exercise a certain lure. To every good Welshman, Paddington and Euston are wondrous places. He may not be one of the happy pilgrims, but it is a pleasure merely to look at carriages that go out under such banners as “Cardiff”, “Fishguard”, “Aberystwyth”, “Dolgelley” or “Barmouth”, and if he is not quite a curmudgeon he can find a vicarious delight in the blessedness of those departing.

But Paddington and Euston have a strenuous air. They do not encourage people to loiter upon trolleys and watch the pageant of the trains. In that station of the Martyr’s Town there was more tolerance. Over Paddington and Euston it had also this other advantage – it did not monotonously receive and despatch the rolling-stock of a single company. Oh, no! It had trains in a variety that I have never since seen equalled. Almost all the lines in Glamorgan gathered to it, just as all paths are said to lead to Rome.

Simply to enumerate the companies that sent their trains to pause under that grimy but catholic roof is to recover something of the rapture of the schoolboy “with shiny morning face”. We had the “Great Western” and the “Taff”; the “London North Western”, the “Rhymney”, and the “Brecon and Merthyr”. I am sorry that, by some kindly roundabout way, the Barry Railway did not run in also. But I am sure that it was then much more than a project.

We small boys of the station-hunting breed knew the different types of engine point by point. We had each of us a favourite. Bitter indeed were our disputes on the question of comparative worth, and devotion went occasionally to the chivalry of fisticuffs. Squeaky voices were raised in partisan abuse. Young eyes shone with the light of a noble championship. (Grown-up people, I have since learnt, land themselves in the law courts for issues less important than those falsetto controversies).

The engine of each company had its own characteristic quality, fully appreciated in our loving study after school hours and in the joyous emancipation of Saturday. The “Great Western” arrived from some vague place called “Swansea” – made after the “local” model, and with its well-known “tick, tick!” rather like a stout lady in a dark-green costume catching her breath after exhausting movement. To many of us the “Taff” was the most impressive of them all. I daresay that on a general suffrage, with a secret ballot to nullify the influence of some of our brawnier members, the “Taff” would have been voted the finest thing that ever went on wheels. How big and burly was the “Taff” engine as it swung past the signal box! How cheerfully it whistled, and how inevitably did it suggest a robust representation of John Bull!

Often did we wonder what would happen if it failed to stop before it reached the buffers. About our expectant platform hung the legend of a day when an engine had crashed right through and gone in mad career almost to the door of the Temperance Hall without. But not for us were such catastrophes! They were the story of an older era, a reminiscence of giants before the flood.

An old print showing the terrible accident mentioned above at Merthyr Station on 16 May 1874

To be continued…….

A Lovely Easter Outing

125 years ago today……

Notes on the Merthyr Tydfil Tramroads – part 2

by Gwilym and John Griffiths

Cwm Cannaid Tramroad: We do not know when this tramroad was constructed. We would guess it was sometime around 1800-1814. Despite its name, the tramroad was built before the shaft of Cwm Cannaid Colliery was sunk. The track was shown clearly on the 1814 Ordnance Survey Map and on Robert Dawson’s 1832 Boundary Commission Map whereas the shafts of Cwm Cannaid Colliery were apparently sunk about 1845. The purpose of the tramroad was to relieve the inefficient old tub canal, or coal canal, sometimes called the Cyfarthfa Coal Canal, of the 1770s. The latter transported coal (and perhaps ironstone?) in two-ton tubs from levels (some suggested via dangerous leats) in Cwm Cannaid to Cyfarthfa Works: some say horse-drawn, others say hauled or pushed by men and women. The Cyfarthfa Coal Canal was closed around 1835, which gives an explanation of Cwm Cannaid Tramroad on Robert Dawson’s 1832 Boundary Commission Map.

The tramroad followed roughly the route of the old coal canal: the latter a twisting route, the former almost a straight line. It skirted Glyn Dyrys Ironstone Mine, a coal shaft below Lower Colliers Row, in front of Lower Colliers Row itself, Tir Wern Uchaf (where it crossed the canal twice), a link to Cwm y Glo Colliery and Ironstone Mine, Upper Colliers Row, Tir Heol Gerrig and hence to the coke ovens and yards above (to the west) of Cyfarthfa Works.

Lower Colliers Row. Photo courtesy of the Alan George Archive

When Cwm Cannaid Pit was sunk in 1845, that became the terminus of the system. The 1901 Ordnance Survey Map named it ‘Cwm Pit Railway’, and the line linking it to ‘Gethin Railway’ was labelled ‘railway in course of construction’. We saw the remnants of these mines, canal and tramroad in the 1940s and 1950s, and often walked the old canal embankment, by then well wooded.

A section of the 1901 Ordnance Survey Map showing the tramroad marked as ‘Cwm Pit Railway’. Lower Colliers Row and the old Cyfarthfa Canal are also shown.

Again, industrial despoliation was reverting to nature: delicious wild strawberries on the old waste tipping, a nightingale singing by the disused and reed-covered canal reservoir, woodcock and common snipe, pied flycatchers and wood warblers, and numerous other birds; with wild orchids amongst the damp marshy vegetation with dragon-flies, damsel-flies, glow-worms and water-boatmen. We doubt if this still exists in the coniferous plantations which replaced them all in more recent years.

Dowlais Tramroad: This was constructed about 1792-93 to connect Dowlais Works with Pont y Storehouse near the Glamorgan Canal terminus, roughly near present-day Jackson’s Bridge. It gave Dowlais Works access to the then ‘recently’ constructed Glamorgan Canal. The route may well have followed initially the Morlais Quarry Tramroad from Dowlais via Gelli Faelog, keeping to the Gelli Faelog side of Nant Morlais. The 1793 extension from this tramroad is today represented by the main road and high pavement from Trevithick Street down to Pont Morlais and thence via the tunnel, formerly a bridge, into Bethesda Street to Jackson’s Bridge. Did the Glamorgan Canal Company pay the £1,100 for the construction of the tramroad (and Jackson’s Bridge) in lieu of the proposed linking canal from Merthyr Tudful to Dowlais?

Bethesda Street in the 1950s. The car is parked on what was the where tramway exited the tunnel mentioned above and continued to the Glamorganshire Canal at Pontstorehouse. Photo courtesy of the Alan George Archive

Gethin Tramroad: This tramroad or railway linked Gethin Colliery (sunk between 1845 and 1849 and opened 1849) initially, and Castle Colliery later (1860s?), with Cyfarthfa Works, taking a route in between those of Cwm Cannaid Tramroad and Ynys Fach Tramroad. No tramroad was shown on the 1850 Tithe Map and Schedule. By 1886 the track left Castle Colliery, skirted the hillside west of the Glamorgan Canal between Furnace Row and Tir Pen Rhiw’r Onnen, through Gethin Colliery (with a link to pit-shaft No2), past Graig Cottage and a bridge over Nant Cannaid. At (the 1853) Cyfarthfa Crossing it curved northwestwards past Tir Wern Isaf and Tir Llwyn Celyn, looping under the 1868 Brecon and Merthyr Railway near Heol Gerrig, and thence to the coke yards.

Gethin Colliery. Photo courtesy of the Alan George Archive.

By 1886 the route was upgraded to the GWR and Rhymney Railway as far as the Cyfarthfa Crossing. The 1876 six-inch Ordnance Survey Map showed the terminus for the ‘cwbs’ at the rear of Cyfarthfa Works. The 1901 Ordnance Survey Map called it ‘Gethin Railway’. Our grandfather used the railway to get to work at Castle Colliery, and we regularly used this route (then upgraded to a full railway) in the 1940s and 1950s on our daily journeys to and from school at Quakers Yard. One of us was on the last train to use this line before the viaduct between Quakers yard and Pont y Gwaith was found to be unsafe.

Gyrnos Quarry Tramroad: This was used to bring limestone from Gyrnos Quarry (Graig y Gyrnos) alongside Tâf Fechan, past the limekilns and coal yards, over Afon Tâf by Pont Cafnau to Cyfarthfa Works. We have no details of dates, but walked the route many times in the 1950s in search of dippers, kingfishers, grey wagtails and the rest. It was the first tramroad recorded in the 1805 list of John Jones and William Llywelyn: 1 mile 106 yards to Cyfarthfa Furnaces and just over 1¾ miles to the new Ynys Fach Furnaces. In view of the size of the quarry, it must have transported many tons of material.

The Morlais Brook – part 1

by Clive Thomas

It was not until September 1968 that I first became acquainted with ‘The Stinky’, the name given to the Morlais Brook by past generations of children and adults who lived along its banks.

Not being a Merthyr boy I was really unaware of its existence, let alone details of its course and history. Where I lived in Troedyrhiw we had the River Taf across the fields of Bill Jones’ farm and our only brook was an old Hill’s Plymouth Collieries’ watercourse which drained numerous disused mountainside coal levels. Despite its origins, the water was clear and clean, drinkable, dammed in the summer holidays, paddled and bathed in. When bored or just at a loose end we raced empty Bondman tobacco tins along its course, running to keep up with the flow and ensure that our own particular tin wasn’t held up by a fallen branch or trapped in an inconvenient eddy. On first encounter I couldn’t imagine any of those activities taking place along ‘The Stinky’ and my initial observations confirmed that its local name was not in any way exaggerated. Indeed, the name appropriately characterised some of its more sinister and less praiseworthy qualities.

The stretch I first got to know was, what a student of physical geography would term, the stream’s ‘Old Age’, that is the portion towards the end of its life. Indeed, one might say at its very death, for union with the parent Taf was imminent and in 1968 the confluence of the two was observable, not as now concealed beneath a highway and pedestrian pathway. To the south of the stream were some of the streets and courtways of the town, many of which were derelict and already marked as candidates for slum clearance. Within two or three years these would be swept away. Rising up from its northern bank was the huge tip of waste produced over a century earlier by the Penydarren Ironworks, its industrial waste concealed for the most part by surprisingly lush vegetation. The British Tip, as it was sometimes known, took its name from the British and Foreign Bible Society, founders of the academy which graced its summit. On its plateau top was a once grand construction, a building of a century’s age but which in many respects had seen better times. Abermorlais, the school’s official name, was most appropriate, as it proclaimed its location, at the union of Taf and Nant Morlais. Unfortunately, there was to be seen no evidence in the stream here of a course well run, more confirmation of ill use, where Sixties’ waste and detritus continued to be added to over a century’s massive abuse. A sad end indeed to what no doubt had once been in pre-industrial times a clear and unspoilt mountain stream.

A map from the 1860s showing the Morlais Brook (flowing East to West) entering the Taff (flowing North to South). Abermorlais School is shown overlooking the scene.

Perhaps though, to gain a more comprehensive appreciation of the stream’s course, it is probably better to follow the guidance of another Thomas, and “begin at the beginning”.

Nant Morlais forms from numerous small tributaries on the slopes of Twynau Gwynion and Cefnyr Ystrad on the 560 metre contour above Pantysgallog and Dowlais. In a distance of seven and a half kilometres it descends 440 metres to its confluence with the Taf. It’s not easy walking country with the gently dipping beds of Millstone grit overlying the Carboniferous Limestone. The surface is rough with ankle breaking rocks and many sink holes to topple into. Among many, but by far the largest of these is Pwll Morlais, a deep and supreme example of what happens where the underlying Limestone has been eroded and the grit collapses into the void. Depending on the season this can be a steep sided, empty peat banked hole or after heavy rain, full to overflowing with a brew of brown froth. The song of the skylark can be enjoyed here on a fine summer day but it is also a solitary place, disconcerting or eerie even, when mist or low cloud descends and the lone walker is surprised by the frantic cry of a disturbed snipe.

On a clear day the view to the south is the trough of the Taf Valley. Always viewed into the sun so never really clear, with only silhouettes, shadows and reflections to give a hint of detail. One wonders how different it would have looked when all of the works below would have been at their height?

From Pwll Morlais, the stream is called Tor-Gwyn by the Ordnance Survey, until its junction with another parallel tributary, and thereafter it becomes Nant Morlais proper. The stream’s descent is gentle to begin with over the hard resistant gritstone. It is along this stretch that there is much evidence of the importance placed on the brook as a source of water power for the rapidly growing Dowlais Works during the early part of the nineteenth century. There are still the remains of sluices and numerous places where the course has been altered, or feeders led its water off to be stored in numerous hillside reservoirs.

Sluice where water was diverted from the stream into the Pitwellt Pond. Photo Clive Thomas

Where one of these diversions fed the extensive but now dry Pitwellt Pond above Pengarnddu, the Brook leaves the Millstone Grit and begins to cut a deep gorge into the softer Coal Measure rocks. From here there is more urgency in its flow, its course becomes narrower and more confined. At several locations it caused railway builders of the past to pause and consider the inconvenience of its course which would necessitate the construction of embankments and small bridges. The line which took limestone to the ironworks at Rhymney crossed hereabouts, as did the Brecon and Merthyr Railway on its way north over the Beacons and the London and North Western on its descent into Merthyr Tydfil via the ‘Miler’ or Morlais Tunnel.

The stream cuts down into some of the softer beds of the Coal Measures. Photo Clive Thomas

More significantly however, it is within this section of the stream that geologists have been able to discover some of the secrets of the South Wales Coalfield and probably many hundreds of school pupils, university students, and local amateur geologists will have benefitted from the instruction of teachers like Ron Gethin, Tom Sharpe or John Perkins. Like myself on many occasions I am sure, they have stumbled down its steep banks into the course of the stream below Blaen Morlais Farm in search of Gastriocerassubcranatum or Gastriocerascancellatum . Not valuable minerals these, but the important fossils which would indicate the location of one or other of the marine bands which were significant in determining the sequence of sedimentation of the rocks generally, and the coal seams in particular.

To be continued…..

Train Crash at Pant Station

Following on (indirectly) from our last post, the news report transcribed below appeared in the Western Mail 145 years ago today (24 August 1874)

ACCIDENT ON THE BRECON AND MERTHYR RAILWAY

A STOKER KILLED AND A PASSENGER INJURED

On Saturday evening another accident occurred on the Brecon and Merthyr Railway, when the last evening train was wending its way from Brecon to Newport. At a quarter past six o’clock, just as the passenger train had approached Pant station at the point of junction which leads to the Dowlais branch, the engine, from some defect in the points or otherwise, left the rails, and, after an abrupt deviation towards the Dowlais branch, came to a standstill.

The stoker, on perceiving something wrong, either jumped off, or was violently thrown from the footplate of the engine. He was instantaneously killed. His name is John Price, of 26, Dolphin-street, Newport. The engine dragged after it one carriage, which appears to have become separated from the other portion of the train at the time of the accident, and in this carriage was a woman, named Elizabeth Jefferies, wife of a bailer at Ebbw Vale, whose leg was broken. The rear portion of the train passed for a short way along the main line. It contained a great many passengers, none of whom sustained injury. The injured woman was conveyed to the Bruce Hotel, Dowlais, where she received every treatment from Dr. Griffiths, of Dowlais. An inquest will be held on the deceased as soon, as practicable.

ANOTHER ACCOUNT
(FROM OUR OWN CORRESPONDENT)
MERTHYR, SUNDAY

This line seems fated to become notorious in the annals of accidents. The inquest has not yet been held over the remains of the victims of the last, when another occurs, and this time to a passenger train.

On Saturday evening the “4.30 passenger” from Brecon to Newport was arriving at the Pant Station, a little way from Dowlais, and where the main line to Newport forms a junction with the branch to Dowlais, when the locomotive suddenly left the metals, and a scene of wreck and disaster at once occurred. Though only 500 yards or so from the station, the pace of the train was rapid. I am not aware whether the carriages are furnished with continuous breaks, but I believe this is the case, and thus up to the closest vicinity of the station the pace is rapid. The locomotive kept exceedingly close to the metals, but it must be noted for future examination on the Pant side.

Some of the carriages were upset, and two of the passengers at least severely injured. One of them at the moment of the accident opened the carriage and jumped out and broke her leg. She was a very stout woman, and this case may be serious. One of the carriages was completely overturned, and the passengers thrown in a heap, but no bones were broken. The stoker, a young married man, named Price, aged 26, was thrown under the wheels of the locomotive and instantly killed. This was the only death, but the injuries received were numerous, though all but two managed to go on with the train.

The scene of the accident has been thronged, but only a heap of matchwood, the remains of one of the carriages, showed where the calamity took place.

It seems a difficult matter to account for the accident. Had the points been at “half”, precisely the same thing would have occurred, but in this case the points are worked from the signal box, and were locked at the time. It will be seen by the official inspector’s report that the first trace of leaving the metals is at the points, and the first blow on one of the fish-plates. Could the flange of the wheel have struck this at a critical place, the facing points just before or on a curve are extremely dangerous, and should be altered.

This is the first accident that has occurred in the locality, which is one of great archaeological interest. The place is called Pantcoed Ivor, and is so named from the redoubtable worthy who scaled Cardiff Castle and sorely grieved the doughty earls of Glamorgan in days of yore. Nearby is a hollow where he is traditionally supposed to have fought his last battle, and on the other side a place called Rhyd-y-bedd, which is associated with his burial. Here, then, by ancient wells, and amidst the moss and the ivy of the past, comes another railway disaster, and its scenic accompaniments, which, too often, alas, mar one of the noblest handmaids of civilization. Where Ivor Bach marched in battle array the locomotive sweeps, and trains of commerce and pleasure are rapidly brushing aside a locality which is only again brought into notice by this railway catastrophe.

A Visit to the Ragged Schools

The article, transcribed below, appeared in the Western Mail 150 years ago today (11 August 1869).

These schools, which have been established since 1864, and which educate about 130 children are mainly supported by the exertions of the rector and Mr. C. E. Matthews.

The school is thus described by one who visited it a few days ago:- There were about 100 children present, who were clad in little better than rags. Many of them had no shoes or stockings on. A good number of babies were there as well. The children presented a most pitiable sight, and certainly looked as if they wanted fresh air. They were put through their usual routine of work, and acquitted themselves in a manner highly creditable to Mrs. Jones, the schoolmistress. The feats of memory, for the ages of the children, were astonishing, especially those of two children named James and Lily Harding, brother and sister, aged eight and five years respectively. These two could repeat, any parable from the New Testament, the Creed, and the Ten Commandments, without the slightest hesitation. Their singing from memory, and other exercises, were equally praiseworthy, considering it was the first day after the holidays.

It is in contemplation to give the children a treat, by taking them to Pentwyn Reservoir, if sufficient funds can be procured for the purpose. The secretary, Mr. C. E. Matthews, has applied to the Brecon and Merthyr Railway Company for their terms, and they have consented to take the children to and fro at half a single fare, namely, fourpence each. It is hoped by the managers of the schools that they will be able to provide shoes and stockings for the poor children, who are without any, and that the public will respond liberally to their appeal for funds.

Below is an extract from an 1860’s map showing the Ragged School which was located in Bridge Street in Caedraw.

Merthyr Regatta

The short article transcribed below appeared in The Cardiff Times 150 years ago today (3 July 1869). It is yet another example of the vibrant and varied events that marked the social calendar of Merthyr in years gone by.

The Merthyr Tydfil Boating Club regatta came off at Dolygaer Lake on Thursday, last week. The weather was very auspicious, it being bright, sunny, and warm, and convenient arrangements having been made for the running of trains on the Brecon and Merthyr Railway, there was a vast concourse of people at the lake early in the day. Trains were also run from Brecon, Cardiff, and Newport, and altogether it was calculated that there were about 8000 present.

The boat racing commenced about two o’clock, and while it lasted it created considerable excitement. The programme, however, which had been prepared for the occasion, was little more than half carried out. Even after the first race, which was easily won by the Hirwain crew, the zest of the competitors seemed to have been completely extinguished. The only spirited race afterwards was that in which a crew of Cyfarthfa mechanics and the Manship Bros., of Newport, had such and excitingly tight pull, that the former won by an almost imperceptible difference only. The regatta was not, for some reasons, attended with the success which has marked it occasion on former years.

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

Demolishing Cefn Railway Bridge

submitted by Carl Llewellyn

While perusing the old Merthyr Expresses I came across an article written on 16 July 1970 entitled:-

Down Comes Link With Railways Pioneers

On 6 July, 1970, Cefn Railway Bridge, which spanned the Cefn Coed High Street was demolished after 104 years due to its unsafe condition. Demolition began at 08:00 a.m. and was completed with about four hours.

The bridge was a continuation of the Cefn Pontycapel Viaduct which completed in 1866 at a cost of £25,000 (equivalent to £2.1 million). The routing of the railway it served, may have been affected by the strong pressure from the powerful Crawshay iron masters.

Cefn Coed High Street showing the Railway Bridge in the early 20th Century

The viaduct was built by Thomas Savin and John Ward, his brother-in-law, to designs prepared by Alexander Sutherland. It had been described as a graceful and majestic structure, one of the finest viaducts in South Wales, being built on a graceful curve which added much to its beauty. With fifteen arches 40 feet each, it has a total length of 725 feet and a height of 115 feet.

Saviour

The Viaduct came into being after many trials and tribulations. At the beginning of 1866 a crisis occurred – Thomas Savin who with John had been managing the railway, and had been paying the shareholders their guaranteed five percent, was overwhelmed by his commitments and failed disastrously, nearly bringing down the finances of the Brecon and Merthyr Junction Railway with him. Other legal frays remained a prominent feature of their lives for the following four years. But despite all this the railway was completed.

The saviour of the venture was Alexander Sutherland who produced an alternative route into Merthyr, which avoided Cyfarthfa Castle by going down the West side of the valley and so won the support instead of the emnity of the Crawshay Family. This was achieved at great engineering expense.

It has been said that a bribe was accepted to divert the railway line around the Crawshay property instead of through it.

The six and three-quarter miles between Pontsticill and Merthyr involved a descent at 1 in 45-50 feet and between Morlais Junction and Merthyr and two complete reversals of direction.

At one stage in the construction of the Pontycapel Viaduct, the stone masons went on strike which meant that the bricklayers had to be called in. This is why one sees bricks lining the underneath of the arches while the remainder of the structure is stone.

The last brick was ceremonially laid by Mrs Sutherland in 1866, but there were further interruptions due to contracting difficulties and it was not until 1 August 1867 that the line was opened from Pontsticill to Cefn, which then replaced Pant as the terminus for the Merthyr horse bus.

The word Pontycapel means bridge to the chapel – it did in fact lead over to a chapel although it is believed that there was a Roman Catholic church at Tai-mawr.

Mr Elwyn Bowen, headmaster of Ysgol-y-Graig Junior School and local historian, said he was told by his Uncle, who would have reached the age of some 90 years, that when the footings were being dug for the viaduct a number skeletons were unearthed.

Whitsun in Merthyr

As today is Whitsun Monday, I thought it would be interesting to see how Merthyr celebrated Whitsun in time gone by. Here is an article about the Whitsun holiday 145 years ago transcribed from the edition of South Wales Daily News of 4 June 1873.

WHITSUN HOLIDAYS IN MERTHYR

The town of Merthyr presented quite a gay and holiday appearance on Monday. The streets were lined with people, all bent on pleasure, and wearing thoroughly holiday aspect. The Brecon and Merthyr and Great Western Railway Companies ran special trains, and at Dolygaer there was a picnic, where amusements of all kinds were provided.

Yesterday “all the world and his wife” went to Caerphilly to hear that now world-renowned Welsh choir, accompanied by that only less celebrated Cyfarthfa Band. It is to be regretted that the weather was so unfavourable as the threatening state of the sky in the morning had the effect of deterring many would-be visitors to the delightful old castle and grounds. But in spite of all this, the excursion trains on the Great Western were crowded. Every facility had been given of the most satisfactory arrangements made for a most enjoyable excursion.

There had been originally some difficulty with respect to the young people of Merthyr having a day’s holiday at all, but the tradesmen most generously gave a holiday. This must be looked upon as most handsome conduct, for in many instances the concession was made at a great sacrifice and personal inconvenience. It seems that in the first place there was a movement on foot for closing generally on Monday, being a bank holiday, but many of the tradespeople objected, and it was suggested that Tuesday would be more convenient. However, one of the principal firms in the town opposed this for business reasons, and there seemed a fair chance of there being no holiday at all. The firm was perfectly willing to have granted the Monday as a public holiday, but felt that considerable inconvenience would arise from closing on Tuesday, particularly as no previous notice had been given.

The representatives of the two daily papers received numerous complaints from all classes of shop-assistants, pointing out the hardships under which they were labouring – that while many towns were giving two days holiday and all the rest one – it seemed excessively unfair that in Merthyr there should be no holiday at all. Knowing the generosity of the Merthyr tradesmen generally on such points, the representatives of both the papers waited on the firm in question and explained the complaints which they had received. On the matter being placed before them in a true light, the heads of the firm at once, in the most handsome manner, signified their willingness to consider the point, although at great personal inconvenience. Upon this being made known to the rest of the employers, a general holiday was declared, and in the afternoon bills appeared in all the windows, “This establishment will be closed to-morrow, Whit-Tuesday.”

The movement was taken up by the leading firm of grocers, which resulted in its being followed by the ironmongers, stationers, and others, so that yesterday was a holiday in Merthyr, and although many did not, in consequence of the unfavourable weather, take advantage of the opportunity offered, there were many hundreds who did, and in fact the streets were as noticeable yesterday for their emptiness as they were on Monday for their crowds. But the people had a holiday, and it is to be hoped that they enjoyed themselves thoroughly.

Merthyr: Then and Now

LOWER HEOLGERRIG

by Jason Meaker

The first photo, above, from the 1970’s, is taken from underneath the Gethin Bridge looking towards Pantycelynen Houses. The remains of the old Brecon and Merthyr Railway Bridge can also be seen.

In the second photo, below, taken in 2018, the Gethin Bridge has been replaced by the new bridge carrying the A470 road, and the remains of the old railway bridge have disappeared.