River Taff – Page 3 – The Melting Pot

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.

An extract from the 1851 Public Health Map showing a more detailed view of the area covered in this article.

We must now start from the Dynevor Arms towards the Iron Bridge. A curriery premises was erected and for some time carried on a little way down on the right hand by Messrs M. Davies and Wayne. This was one of the Davies’s of Pantyscallog and a Wayne of the Gadlys, but Mr Wayne migrated to the Carmarthen Tinplate Works, which he carried on for many years.

Anterior to the curriery there was in this very locality a nailmaker working by the name of Samuel Jones. At this time all nails were made by hand (cut and wire nails not yet known). They were all made of slit rods, a process that, as far as South Wales works are concerned, has entirely ceased, and the making of a nail was really a good specimen of the handicraft. There was a small bellows blowing upon the point of the nail, and the work was always carefully held so that the air current passed up the rod. The why and wherefore of this has many a time been thought over, and I acknowledge that no satisfactory solution has ever been found.

Lower down was the residence of of Mr Coffin, who, in addition to curriery, was, or had been, the clerk of the Small Debts Court, and thus became very obnoxious to some, so that at the time of the Merthyr Riots his house and furniture suffered damage at the hands of the mob. One of his daughters afterwards married Mr Thomas Wayne, and resided at Glancynon, near the Gadlys. The other married a Mr William Llewellyn, of Abercarn, the then mineral and other agent of the Llanover Estates. There was a jeu d’esprit in the Cardiff and Merthyr Guardian in or about the time of Mr Wayne’s marriage, showing how very careful he had been, for he not only obtained a wife, but a coffin also.

The British Schools followed Mr Coffin’s garden, and then the Three Horse Shoes Inn, kept by a Daniel Stephens. The next and adjoining was the premises of Mr John Bryant, whose curriery was (as Mr Coffin’s was also) across the road, and Mr Bryant also took Pride’s storehouse for his trade purposes after the railway had rendered canal traffic obsolete, or rather obsolete as far as shop goods were concerned, to Merthyr at that time.

The Three Horse Shoes Inn. Next door is the Kirkhouse, built on the site of the British School. Photo courtesy of the Alan George Archive.

Close to Mr Bryant’s house is a way to Aberdare, which joins the road up from the Dynevor Arms, close beyond Mr Jeffries’ house. On the opposite side of this opening was the Cyfarthfa Surgery. Mr Edward Davies was the head, and in physique always reminded me of the Emperor Nicholas of Russia. Years after, Dr Davies lived at the Court House, and practised after he had left Cyfarthfa. The Miners’ Arms was adjoining. The residences coming next were built by a Mr Teague subsequently.

Bridgefield Terrace with the Miners’ Arms at the centre. Photo courtesy of the Alan George Archive.

To be continued at a later date…….

A New Merthyr

The following article by the renowned Merthyr-born architect Arthur Trystan Edwards appeared in the Merthyr Express 70 years ago today…

Merthyr’s Bridges: Ynysgau Bridge

By the mid 1800s, the only bridge of any note across the Taff in central Merthyr was the Iron Bridge at the bottom of Castle Street, the only other bridge being Jackson’s Bridge further up the river. It soon became obvious that the Iron Bridge was not adequate for the amount of traffic needing to cross the river.

In June 1860, the Surveyor of the Local Board of Health submitted a plan for a new bridge to be situated downstream of the Iron Bridge to carry traffic from the town to Georgetown. His proposal stated:

“The proposed bridge to be erected….is the continuance of the line of Victoria Street and its terminus by Ynysgau Chapel, and crossing the river Taff on the skew at an angle of sixty-five degrees – thus forming a direct communication between Victoria Street and Penry Street, which will effect greater facility of traffic that the inconsistent turns at the present site”.

An excerpt from an 1860 map showing the planned new bridge just below the Iron Bridge.

The proposed new bridge would cross the river in one single 80 foot span, and would be built of wrought iron plate girders six feet deep. It would be 24 feet wide, five foot of which would be set aside for a pedestrian footpath on the north side. The cost of the new bridge was estimated at £1,700, and would take about four months to complete.

The Board of Health decided to hold over the report for a month to allow them time to consider the proposals. Ten years later, the bridge still hadn’t been built.

It was in 1879 that it became obvious that the situation at the Iron Bridge was critical and that a new bridge was needed straight away. The Board finally dusted off the old plans, and the new bridge was begun. The work was entrusted to Messrs Patton and Co of Crumlin Viaduct Works, and the bridge was finally completed on 17 March 1880.

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

The bridge remained the primary road bridge in the centre of Merthyr until the 1960s, by which time everyone was becoming increasingly concerned by the way the bridge would move and spring alarmingly every time heavy vehicles passed over it. It was decided that a new bridge was required, and a new concrete bridge was built 50 yards upstream (the present bridge near the Fire Station).

The old bridge closed in November 1963 when the new bridge was opened, and the structure was dismantled in 1964.

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.

Behind this part, and alongside the river, was the quarter whose savour was anything but respectable; it was known as China. It only went down the riverside a short way, from which to the Morlais Brook the cinder tip abutted on to the river.

An extract from the 1851 Ordnance Survey map of Merthyr showing the location of China.

The locality was also called Pontstorehouse, the origin of this name, according to my idea, being from the storehouse for general housing of the shop goods being a little way beyond Jackson’s Bridge on the right hand. It was, of course, on the canal bank, and the wharfinger, or storehouse keeper, was a Mr Lewis Williams of Cardiff. There was also another storehouse a little lower on the other side of the canal, kept by Mr Mathew Pride of Cardiff, but it had not the traffic of the upper one.

Between these there were one or two private stores, one of which belonged to Mr Christopher James, already alluded to. The wharves of the Dowlais and Penydarren Companies were between the canal and the river. First came the Dowlais one, with a house so that oats or other material damageable by rain could be discharged; then the Penydarren Wharf, walled round with an entrance gate (the Dowlais one described above also had its entrance doors) and adjoining was the other Dowlais Wharf, used solely for the discharge of hematite ore, or other kindred material. The tramroad ran to the end of this wharf and no further. There was a building below, which afterwards altered and converted into a brewery. It was afterwards owned by Mr David Williams.

Another extract from the 1851 Ordnance Survey map of Merthyr showing the old Tramroad crossing Jackson’s Bridge, and leading to Dowlais and Penydarren Wharves between the River Taff and the Glamorganshire Canal.

Having reached the terminus of the canal branch of the Old Tramroad, we could go straight on and join the road between the canal and Iron Bridges; but by so doing some parts would be omitted.

To return to the road passing over Jackson’s Bridge. Crossing the Canal Bridge between the Dowlais Wharf, partly covered, and Upper Storehouse, the first house on the left having entrance from the towing-path was occupied by Mr William Harrison, the clerk of the canal, whose office was at the Parliament Lock, a short distance down the canal, and nearly opposite the Ynysfach Works, on the other side of the canal.

There being some descendants of that name yet residing, I may perhaps interest them by saying Mr Harrison himself was rather short, inclined to be stout, and fond of his garden, which was kept in very good order. It is not for me to pry into anyone’s private history; but as it is clear that he was at one time engaged in the Forest of Dean, probably in connection with the timber of encroachments, he then took a wife, and a real good, kind woman she was. One of their sons was named Maynard Colchester (who became cashier at the Dowlais Ironworks), which indicates her to have been one of the family whose home was called the Wilderness, not very far from Mitchel Dean or Dean Magna.

Mr Harrison was a great hand at trigonometry. Keith being the author of his ideal books on those subjects. There were five sons and two daughters. Mr Harrison resided at one time at Pencaebach House, and was engaged at Plymouth Works. It is said he wrote to Pitt suggesting the putting of tax on the manufacture of iron, and suggesting that his own knowledge of the trade rendered his services of great value in the collection of such tax, if imposed. If I mistake not, this may be read by his grandchildren, and to them and every other whose name may be mentioned, I beg to tender as assurance that nothing is said but with due respect.

The road around to the Iron Bridge passed on one side of Mr Harrison’s garden, and the towing path of the canal on the other; but before turning down that road, let us glance around. One road is to the right, and led to the Nantygwenith turnpike gate; the road in front led up the hill to to Penyrheolgerrig, and on to Aberdare over the hill. A tramroad from Cyfarthfa to the Ynysfach Works crossed somewhat diagonally, and passed behind the Dynevor Arms, the first house on the left having only the road between it and the Canal House.

A more detailed version of the above map showing Mr Harrison’s house (Canal House)

To be continued at a later date…..

As an addition to this piece, I would like to send my best wishes to Mike Donovan who provided these marvellous articles. Mike has been unwell lately, and I, (personally and on behalf of everyone who knows him) would like to wish him a speedy recovery.

The Morlais Brook – part 2

by Clive Thomas

From here in pre-industrial times the brook continued in its efforts to cut deeply into the country rock, passing Cae Racca, the fields of the Hafod Farm and down into Cwm Rhyd y bedd. Unfortunately with the construction of the new Ivor Works in 1839, this area became the tipping ground of the thousands of tons of waste produced by the furnaces, forges and rolling mills. Over the next century the whole form of the land became radically altered with tip and railway embankment obscuring its course. It eventually emerged into ‘The Cwm’, as a poor remnant of its former self, passing in the mid-nineteenth century the Dowlais Old Brewery and Gellifaelog House on its way down to Gellifaelog Bridge. This had been built in the second half of the eighteenth century to carry the Abernant to Rhyd-y-blew turnpike Road and would eventually become the location which every local would know as ‘The Bont’.

The Nant Morlais flowing through ‘The Cwm’ in the 1940s. Photo courtesy of the Alan George Archive.

A map showing the Nant Morlais passing through the Bont and showing Gellifaelog House and Gellifaelog Bridge

A little below here, it had its junction with Nant Dowlais on the banks of which the first Dowlais furnace had been constructed in 1759. Two centuries later, in the 1960’s with the building of the Heads of the Valleys Road and the general landscaping of the 1980’s the stream’s way through the ‘Cwm’ was again changed quite comprehensively, although shrub and tree planting rendered the valley more aesthetically pleasing. Unfortunately, it is only the archive map or faint ancient photographs which now help inform us of its rich and varied history.

Site of confluence of the Morlais and Dowlais Brooks. The old turnpike road went to the left, crossing the Morlais at Gellifaelog Bridge. The New Road was originally one of the railway inclines of the Dowlais Works. Photo Clive Thomas

Before being confined to its anonymous, culverted bed, the brook’s surface course from The Bont was once again encroached upon by massive tipping from the Dowlais Ironworks. On the opposite bank, once the fields of Gellifaelog and Gwaunfarren Farms, what was to become Penydarren High Street would be established. This ribbon development of dwellings, shops and places of worship was constructed above the steep valley side here and would eventually form a fundamental link between the growing settlements of Merthyr Tydfil and Dowlais. As early as 1811 though, I.G. Wood’ s print of the Penydarren Ironworks shows our mountain cataract to be already much altered, confined and despoiled by the growth of that iron manufactory. Today, the location is completely transformed from the area of desolation we knew in the 1960’s and ‘70’s. It is landscaped, green and partly wooded but it is a great pity the planners could not have given it a more inspirational name than Newlands Park.

The Morlais Brook flowing behind Penydarren High Street in the 1940s. Photo courtesy of the Alan George Archive

Below the site of the works its course altered a little again and helped define that spur of high ground the Romans had chosen, probably in the early second century AD as the site for one of their forts. I am sure these ancient invaders would have had no inkling of the iniquities that men of later centuries would perpetrate on the stream and landscape hereabouts. Today, Nant Morlais reveals itself only briefly to the rear of the Theatre Royal and Trevithick memorial before disappearing at Pontmorlais, the location of another of those early turnpike bridges.

An 1851 map showing the course of the Morlais Brook through Pontmorlais

The Morlais Brook at Pontmorlais in the 1940s. Wesley Chapel is in the background. Photo courtesy of the Alan George Archive

Hidden behind the buildings of the town’s Upper High Street there is one final reminder of the stream’s rural and unsullied past. Mill Lane, more recently the rather secret location of Mr. Fred Bray’s sweet factory, is the site of a water mill where our agricultural forefathers ground the corn grown in the fields of the local farms.

A map from the 1860s showing the old mill.

Whilst the old buildings and general dereliction which not so long ago framed the stream’s last few hundred metres have long disappeared and been replaced by car parking and civic buildings, a large portion of Abermorlais Tip remains to mark the point where the waters of Nant Morlais coalesce with those of the parent Taf. Although partly confined to a subterranean existence, through the more recent efforts of Man, ‘The Stinky’ has been able to rid itself of the foul and fetid mantle of its past.

Where it all ends. The confluence of the Morlais with the Taf. Photo Clive Thomas

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…..

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.

We now, however, resume from the junction of Brecon Road and follow the one with the Tramroad on or alongside. Beyond on the right-hand for some distance were cottages; they had small gardens in front, but not one had a back door. The level of the field would probably range from three to ten feet higher than the ground floor of the dwelling.

After these cottages was the Cambrian Inn, and then Bryant’s Brewery, which had malthouses also, but had all ceased to to work ere I can recall it. This Mr Bryant was then old, and, I think, migrated to Cefn near Bridgend, and identified himself in the coal getting. Quarry Row is the opening if we continue to the right, but we next pass the grocery shop of Mr Charles. There were some more cottages, also a shop or two, and the Jackson’s Bridge public house on the bank of the Taff was the last of that side.

On the left, from where the Tramroad became a portion of the road, some few cottages under the tip, then the Bethesda Chapel lying back, and some cottages again by the side of the Tramroad, and, unless I err, some down near the bottom of the tip. It was in some of these houses or cottages very important persons resided, they were the acting parish constables who lived there.

There were three that can be recalled – two of the name Williams. There were ‘Billy the Balca’ and his brother Tom, of course of the same place; the surname of the other has gone, but he was known as ‘John Keep her Down’, from his method of dealing with corpses in the dreadful time of the cholera visitation. No doubt they had rather a rough time sometimes. Drunken brawls were not unusual, but there was then no ‘Bruce’s Act’ demanding their attention as to the hour of closing.

The good residence below was occupied by Mr David James, who carried on the business of a tanner. His yard was close by, having an entrance at the end of the garden. Mr William Davis, the eldest son of Mr David Davis, of the (then) London House, Hirwaun, was apprenticed to learn the tannery trade here, but after a while that was abandoned and the sale of coal occupied his attention. Another apprentice to Mr James named O’Connell, was a nephew of great Daniel, the Irish agitator.

Below the opening was the Black Bull, having its own brewery connected with it in the rear. Cottages followed a short way, a grocer’s shop, kept by Mr Samuel Thomas, afterwards of Scyborwen (sic), and then only a few cottages brought us to the Jackson’s Bridge again.

A portion of the 1851 Public Health Map showing the area in question

To be continued at a later date……

Merthyr’s Bridges: The Brandy Bridge – part 2

Within a matter of years of opening, people started remarking on the instability of the new ‘Brandy Bridge’. It was not uncommon for the bridge to ‘bounce’ if a horse and cart drove over it. In 1925 the driver of a road-roller reported serious movement in the bridge as he passed over it. When tested, it was noticed that each cross-girder twisted seriously as the roller drove across the bridge over a certain speed, but would then correct themselves after the roller had passed. After structural tests were performed, it was concluded that the cross-girders were too lightly constructed for the traffic using the bridge, and a two-ton maximum weight limit was imposed.

The Borough Council became increasingly worried about the situation. Of major concern was the fact that if a serious fire broke out in Abercanaid, the fire brigade would be unable to attend as the fire-engine weighed well in excess of two tons. The Borough Engineer examined the possibility of using one of the other bridges nearby – the ‘First Brandy Bridge’ or the old Llwyn-yr-Eos Bridge further down the river. Neither of these proved a viable solution due the cost and length of time it would take to make either bridge structurally sound enough to carry road traffic.

Again, bureaucracy between several parties intervened, and it wasn’t until 26 July 1929 that a start was finally made on a solution – constructing a ferro-concrete arch over the Taff, using the existing abutments, with reinforced concrete girders spanning the Great Western (formerly Taff Valley) Railway line, and the Plymouth Railway line being lowered to permit the line of the roadway to be maintained. The contract for the work was given to Lewis Harpur, grandson of Samuel Harpur who oversaw the construction of the original bridge. The repairs cost £4,430 and the bridge re-opened to traffic on 28 February 1934.

The ‘Second Brandy Bridge’ in 1934 following repairs. Photo courtesy of the Alan George Archive.

In December 1965, after exceptionally heavy rainfall, the River Taff turned into a torrent. The Plymouth Weir roughly 450 yards downstream, which had been disintegrating for some time, finally collapsed, releasing all the debris and silt which had been accumulating behind it. With the removal of this ‘barrier’ the flow of the river increased rapidly, undermining the foundations of the abutment on the west side of the bridge. The bottom of the abutment was ripped from its base, taking with it the bottom end of the arch, and consequently twisting the whole arch structure and breaking the roadway from the abutment. Below are some photos showing the damage.

Photos courtesy of the Alan George Archive

The bridge was rendered unusable. Within five days a temporary Bailey Bridge was installed by the army, which remained in operation until a new bridge was built.

The new bridge, the ‘Third Brandy Bridge’ was built down river from the old bridge. A reinforced concrete structure, it opened in December 1967, and is still in used today carrying traffic over the river and railway into Abercanaid.

The ‘Third Brandy Bridge’. Photo courtesy of the Alan George Archive

Of the two previous bridges there is no trace. The first bridge was dismantled during the 1960’s, and the second shortly after the new bridge opened.

That is the story of the ‘Brandy Bridge’…but not quite. One question remains – why is it called the ‘Brandy Bridge’?

The original bridge was informally called the cinder bridge, built to carry waste from Anthony Hill’s works to Abercanaid,and the story goes that the trams that were used to transport the waste over the bridge were horse-drawn. Apparently the horse in question was called ‘Brandy’, and it is said that the bridge was renamed in his honour. How true this story is remains unclear, but it would be nice to think that there was some truth in it, and that a simple, hard-working horse was remembered in this way.

Merthyr’s Bridges: The Brandy Bridge – part 1

The ‘Brandy Bridge’ as it is commonly known, is actually, historically three separate bridges.

The ‘First Brandy Bridge’, commissioned by Anthony Hill, was built immediately below Brandy Bridge Junction in 1861, to carry the Plymouth Ironworks Tramway over the River Taff, Taff Vale Railway and Plymouth Railway. It was a square span in three sections; the main section was over the river and was about 80ft long, made up of two wrought iron plate-girders mounted on a masonry pier on the east side and a masonry abutment on the west.

After the closure of the Plymouth Ironworks in 1880, the bridge began to fall into disrepair, but was still used by pedestrians going to and from Abercanaid whilst a new bridge was being built 100 yards upstream.

Plans for the ‘Second Brandy Bridge’ had been discussed as early as 1857. In August of that year, a committee, consisting of among others Robert Thompson Crawshay, Anthony Hill & G T Clark was set up by the Local Board of Health to consider building a bridge across the Taff to Abercanaid, as up until then, the only pedestrian access to the village was via a ford called the Plymouth Crossing.

A section of the 1851 Ordnance Survey Map showing the Plymouth Crossing

By 1870 however, a bridge still hadn’t been built, much to the understandable exasperation of the population of Abercanaid. On 22 January 1870, the villagers held a public meeting where a proposition was made that “the first and surest way to obtain a bridge and a road to Abercanaid is by memorialising the Local Board of Health, and that this meeting has great confidence in the present Board that they will take prompt and active measures to obtain for us – a bridge”.

By 6 August the committee had investigated several sites but were all vetoed due to expense, until a site, at the old Plymouth Crossing was agreed upon. The total price for the new bridge was estimated to be between £400 and £500, and the committee approached the Taff Valley Railway Company for a contribution. The committee had not, however, prepared for the ensuing pettiness and inflexibility of the various landowners affected by the building of a new bridge and road.

It would be 10 years before the petty wrangling had been ironed out, and on 7 August 1880, the Local Board of Health, following an interview with the Taff Vale Railway Company, who were planning to expand their network, estimated that a new bridge would cost £1,600, with the railway company offering £600 towards the project. Further disagreements followed with the committee for the building of the bridge insisting that the Taff Valley Railway Company should pay a higher percentage of the cost.

The negotiations continued for two years until an agreement was finally reached, and it wasn’t until 1883 that work finally began on the bridge.

Samuel Harpur, Engineer and Surveyor of the Local Board of Health, was put in charge of the construction of the new bridge, and a contract was given to J Jones to deal with the excavation and stonework. The construction of the bridge itself was entrusted to The Cleveland Bridge and Engineering Company of Darlington who designed, built and erected the bridge which was 12 foot wide and made of steel lattice-work girders and steel cross-members. The bridge was opened late in 1883.

The ‘Second Brandy Bridge’. Photo courtesy of the Alan George Archive

To be continued…..

Merthyr Memories: St Mary’s Roman Catholic School and Court Street

by Barrie Jones

The blog article of the 27^th November 2019 (http://www.merthyr-history.com/?p=3016) on the aerial view of Court Street in 1965 brought back memories of my school days in St Mary’s Catholic School and my recollection of Court Street during that time. I attended the school in the four ‘school years’ from September 1956 to July 1960, so I recall features of the street that had already disappeared by 1965.

Living in Twynyrodyn my usual route to school was down Twyn Hill so the first landmark on the street I would pass by was the Glove and Shears situated on the left hand side and corner of where the Tramroad crossed the Twynyrodyn Road.

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

Opposite on the right hand side of the road the last house of Twynyrodyn Road was a corner shop. I can’t recall ever going into the shop but I did spend many a time looking in the shop window. There on display were a variety of items in what must have been ‘dummy’ packets; dusty boxes of popular products of their day, even chocolate bars presumably made of wood or cardboard wrapped in foil etc. The shop’s display never seemed to change so the shelves and their goods were liberally sprinkled with dead flies and wasps.

Further down the street on the right hand side between Gospel Hall formally Twynyrodyn Unitarian Chapel and the railway bridge were a row of properties, some of which were shops. The one shop I remember in detail was an electrical goods shop with a large window displaying a variety of modern electrical appliances. Just inside the doorway of the shop were stacked lead acid batteries, the battery acid was held in thick glass containers with carrying handles. The batteries were used to power radios in those properties where there was no mains electricity supply. You could hire the battery and once the ‘charge’ had expired you returned the battery to the shop to be recharged and collected a newly charged battery in exchange.

After passing under the railway bridge by means of an archway on the right hand side of the road, you then passed by Jerusalem Chapel on the corner of Gillar Street. In Gillar Street on the left hand side there was a small row of houses that backed onto our school yard. The houses had no back gardens, just small courts that were separated from our playground by a low thick stone wall capped with flag stones. Inevitably many a football or tennis ball landed in one of the courts much to the annoyance of their occupiers.

The school building was probably built in late 1870 or early 1871 for both infants and primary age children with a capacity for approximately 460 pupils. On the 30^th April 1870 the Aberdare Times reported that “the splendid schools now in the course of erection on the Maerdy Estate are proof of the success that has attended the Rev. Gentleman’s administrations”, (Father Martin Bruton). The ‘schools’ were built on the site of Maerdy House a large building with a sizable garden at its rear, which was now the school yard.

St Mary’s School. Photo courtesy of http://www.alangeorge.co.uk/index.htm

In October 1869 the Local Board of Health gave approval for new school rooms and additions to the house which may explain why the first floor was accessed by an exterior staircase only. The first floor may have been an addition or enlargement above the existing house’s structure. At the rear of the building there were unusual features such as a small arched recess built into the building that seemed to have no function other than as den for us to climb into during playtime.

The School’s boundary wall on the northern side of the school yard separated the school from Conway’s Dairies. This was formally the site of the Boot Inn, 22 High Street, Conway’s had acquired the premises in 1910 and its offices and plant were accessed from the High Street.

Conway’s Dairies. Photo courtesy of the Alan George Archive

From our yard could be seen towering above the high stone wall the cylindrical metal chimneys of the Dairy’s pasteurisation and bottling plants. The Dairy’s coal fired steam production must have taken its toll on the metal chimneys, as they were extremely rusty. When we turned up for school one morning we were greeted by the sight of one of the chimneys lying in our school yard. The chimney must have rusted through near its base and because of either the weight of metal or high wind it had collapsed during the night. At this time household milk was delivered by horse and cart and the Dairy kept the horses and carts in stables built in the arches of the railway bridge. The stables were accessed from the road leading off Court Street opposite the entrance to Gillar Street. Conway’s Dairies moved its main production to a new plant at the Willows on the other side of the River Taff in 1960/61, but retained use of its High Street plant for many years after but on a much reduced scale.

A Conway’s Dairies milk cart outside the old Boot Inn in the early part of the 20th Century. Photo courtesy of the Alan George Archive

As well as the Dairies’ chimneys, the other prominent features on the skyline were the clock tower of St Tydfil’s Church and the four storey high Angel Hotel. The parish clock was a useful timepiece for us boys when playing in the streets and alleys near the school during the lunch hour. Punishment for lateness for afternoon lessons could be a canning on the hand. In 1957 the Angel hotel was demolished and during playtimes we had a grandstand view of its progress. The walls of the hotel were very thick with over 400 windows that were deeply recessed with bench seats and the workmen could be seen walking along the top of the wall knocking away the brickwork at their feet with sledge hammers. A working practice that would making any health and safety officer wince, and of course it was not surprising that two men fell from the third storey when part of the wall they were standing on collapsed. Sadly one died and the other was seriously injured.

Opposite the school was a row of terraced houses, formally Maerdy Row, in the front window of one of the houses I can recall seeing a display of boxing trophies, cups belts etc. I don’t know whether they were for professional or amateur boxing or how long they were on display. The occupier of the house must have had some pride in the achievement to display them in their front window. The properties in and around Court Street were near their full life and in February 1960 number 2 Court Street and numbers 22 and 23 Gillar Street were issued with demolition orders. In the following month the County Borough Council approved a compulsory purchase order (CPO) for Court Street. The street was demolished together with the properties between the railway line and the High Street known as the Ball Court. The aerial photograph shows that Jones Bros Garage occupied the site in 1965.

At the end of Court Street as it joins the High Street on the left hand corner and behind the Star Inn was a slaughter house. We boys could climb the waste ground at the side of the building to look down through a window to watch the slaughter men working below. The smell and sounds of the slaughter house is something I will never forget.

By 1960 plans were in place to relocate St Mary’s to an alternative site in Caedraw and today the school in Caedraw is scheduled for closure with a new school planned for the Bishop Hedley School site in Penydarren.