Cyfarthfa Ironworks – Page 7 – The Melting Pot – Merthyr Tydfil's History and Culture

Merthyr’s Ironmasters: Anthony Bacon

Following on from the last post, here is the latest article about Merthyr’s Ironmasters.

Anthony Bacon was born at St Bees near Whitehaven in Cumberland. His exact date of birth is not known, but records show that he was baptized at St Bees on 24 January 1717.

His father, William, and grandfather, Thomas, were ships’ captains in the coal trade between Whitehaven and Ireland, though his father also made several trading voyages to the Chesapeake. His mother died in 1725, when he was eight, and his father a few years later, and the boy was taken to Talbot county on the eastern shore of Maryland, where he was raised by his maternal uncles, Thomas and Anthony Richardson, who were merchants there. Young Anthony was trained by them as a merchant and as a mariner. He apparently made a good impression for, on coming of age, he was in 1738 made master of the York, a vessel in the Maryland tobacco trade owned by John Hanbury, the leading London tobacco importer.

After the death of his two uncles, Bacon moved to London, from where he operated as an itinerant merchant mariner during the period c.1742–1747 and as a resident merchant thereafter. In the 1740s he traded primarily with Maryland, but in the 1750s added Virginia and the Spanish wine trade. During the Seven Years’ War he entered government contracting in collaboration with John Biggin, a native of Whitehaven and a large London coal merchant (who had been a major navy victualling contractor in the 1740s). Bacon was recognized as a specialist in shipping, and he provided vessels and carrying services to the Royal Navy. He was a major transporter of victuals in the Quebec campaign of 1759. In the later stages of the war he also branched out into army contracts, undertaking to victual and pay the troops stationed on the African coast at Fort Louis, Senegal, and at Goree.

Between 1760 and 1766, Anthony Bacon was full or partial owner of five ships that completed a total of six Atlantic slave trade voyages. In 1764, Bacon withdrew from the tobacco trade, and concentrated on trade to, and contracting in, new British colonies in the West Indies and west Africa. At the same time to aid his business in government contracts, he was elected as Member of Parliament for the borough of Aylesbury, which he represented until 1784, by which time the participation of MPs in government contracting had been prohibited.

It was in 1765 that Bacon branched out and went into partnership with William Brownrigg of Whitehaven, taking out a lease on 4,000 acres of land in the Merthyr Valley. After obtaining the mineral-rich land very cheaply, they employed Charles Wood to build Cyfarthfa Forge using his patented potting and stamping process to make pig iron into bar iron. This was followed by a blast furnace at Cyfarthfa, 50 feet high and opened in 1767. In 1766, Bacon took over the Plymouth Ironworks to supply pig iron to his forge. Brownrigg partnership was dissolved in 1777.

Cyfarthfa Works and Cyfarthfa House (Anthony Bacon’s residence) in the 1790’s from a drawing by William Pamplin. Photo courtesy of Cyfarthfa Castle Museum & Art Gallery

Bacon’s government contracts included supplying ordnance. In 1773, after the Carron Company’s guns had been withdrawn from service as dangerous, Bacon offered to provide three cannon for a trial, made respectively with charcoal, coke, and mixed fuel. He also delivered a fourth with then ‘cast solid and bored’. This gun was reported to be ‘infinitely better than those cast in the ordinary way, because it makes the ordnance more compact and consequently more durable’, despite the greater expense. This led to a contract in 1774. These guns were apparently cast by John Wilkinson until Bacon’s contract with him ended in 1776. The next year, Bacon asked for Richard Crawshay’s name to be included in his warrants, and from this time the cannon were cast at Cyfarthfa. This continued until Bacon as a member of parliament was disabled from undertaking government contracts in 1782, when the forge and some of the gun foundry business were leased to Francis Homfray.

Anthony Bacon had married Elizabeth Richardson who had borne him a son, Anthony who sadly died at the age of 12. While Elizabeth remained at Cyfarthfa House – the residence he had built in about 1770, Bacon, as a member of parliament, spent much time in the capital, where he kept a mistress, Mary Bushby, during the years c.1770 to 1786. At his death, in Cyfarthfa on 21 January 1786, Mary was left with their daughter, Elizabeth, and four sons, Anthony, Thomas, Robert, and William, of whom only the first two reached adulthood. Bacon was buried in London, at St Bartholomew by the Exchange. He made generous provision in his will for Mary Bushby and for the education of her children. He left his ironworks to his sons, but the two survivors, Anthony and Thomas, when they came of age, first leased and then sold their inherited undertakings to Richard Crawshay.

Merthyr: Then and Now

CYFARTHFA

by Jason Meaker

Cyfarthfa Works in the 1870’s. Photo courtesy of http://www.alangeorge.co.uk/index.htm

The first photograph, above, shows a view over the Cyfarthfa Ironworks towards Cyfarthfa Castle.

Opened in 1765 by Anthony Bacon, Cyfarthfa Ironworks was leased by Richard Crawshay in 1786, and by the beginning of the 19th Century was the biggest ironworks in the world.

The Cyfarthfa Works closed in 1910, but re-opened briefly during the First World War to produce steel for armaments. The works finally closed completely in 1919, and were dismantled beginning in 1928.

The second photograph, below, shows roughly the same view. All trace of the once mighty Cyfarthfa Works has gone, but Pandy Farm and Cyfarthfa Castle still remain.

Death of a Boy Collier

The following article is transcribed from the issue of South Wales Daily News published 120 years ago today (22 October 1898).

PIT ACCIDENT AT MERTHYR

ONE BROTHER KILLED; THE OTHER ESCAPED

Yesterday at the Merthyr Police Court Mr Coroner R. J. Rhys held an inquest upon the body of Sidney Oates (14), who was killed by a fall of coal or rubbish on Tuesday afternoon at the Castle Pit, belonging to Messrs Crawshay Bros., Limited, Cyfarthfa. Mr F. Adams, assistant inspector of coal mines, was present also Mr David Abraham, general manager of the Cyfarthfa Collieries, and Mr Rees Howells, manager of the Castle Pit.

From the evidence of William Arthur Oates (19), of 22, Lower Colliers’-row, brother of the deceased, it appeared that deceased worked with him as a collier’s boy, and was standing near when witness was putting up a piece of timber. A fall occurred, which knocked a post out and killed his brother. Witness escaped, and after- wards got round to the place through another man’s working place. The piece of coal which fell down was about two yards long. There had been two sprags against it. The post knocked out was the one between the two road posts. The top was of stone, and it was weak at that place. He saw the fireman twice during the turn. Witness had had a place of his own for 12 months. He had worked underground ever since he started work. There were two slants in the seam at this place. They were to be seen before the fall took place. He had put up two posts as a precaution. He thought that was enough, and did nothing more. He thought if it had not been for the piece of coal knocking the post out it would have been all right.

John Protheroe, Cefn, collier, who was working on the lower side of the place where the brothers Oates were engaged, said he heard the fall take place, and he was about the first man afterwards to get there. The deceased lad was quite covered up by the fall. Witness helped to get deceased out. He was dead. When the fall was sufficiently cleared be saw posts had been knocked out. He could not say how, many. There was timber mixed up with the rubbish. Oates always kept his place tidy.

William Jones, the fireman, in reply to the Coroner, said he had visited the place three times on Tuesday – once before the men went in, and twice afterwards, the last time being about 2 o’clock in the afternoon. He told Oates to stand the post on the lower side at that time. He (Oates) had two sprags before the slip. The two slants spoken to by Oates could be plainly seen. He went to the spot on hearing of the accident. A fall of rubbish was on the deceased boy. The fall had occurred between the two slants. He could see some timber had been discharged by the fall. The post he told Oates to put up was on the lower side. This had nothing whatever to do with the fall on the boy. He thought it was quite likely as Oates said, that a piece of coal fell out and knocked out a post. There were three posts between the two slants. He gave Oates no orders to sprag this upper side; two sprags were already there, and these in his opinion were sufficient.

Rees Howells, the pit manager, produced plans of the workings, and described the visible conditions of the accident. The fall was 11 feet long by 4 feet wide and 4 feet high. The fall had not yet been cleared away.

Oates was also recalled, and questioned as to the position of the particular post which he was putting up when the accident arose, and the examination of Mr Howells was continued by the Coroner and the Mines Inspector.

The jurymen asked no questions.

The Coroner, in the course of a succinct reference to the salient points of evidence said it seemed to him that if the coal had not burst out as it did nothing would have happened – that was if the boy (witness Oates) was telling the truth. There was every likelihood that, as Oates had described it, this coal broke out, knocked out the timber near it, and fell down. The jury at once announced they were all of opinion that this was a case of “Accidental death.”

Merthyr’s Ironmasters: Samuel Homfray

Following on from the previous article, here is a bit more about Samuel Homfray in the first instalment of another new (hopefully) regular feature.

Samuel Homfray with Penydarren Ironworks in the background

Samuel Homfray was born in 1762, the fifth son of Francis Homfray and his second wife Jane. Francis Homfray (1725-1798) had been born into a successful industrial family, his father (also called Francis) had made his fortune in the iron industry at Coalbrookdale in Staffordshire. In 1749 Francis Homfray and Richard Jordan, also of Staffordshire, leased a water corn grist mill called Velin Griffith and a forge in the parish of Whitchurch, and in September 1782, he approached Anthony Bacon, owner of Cyfarthfa Ironworks, and leased the cannon foundry at the works to manufacture weapons and ammunitions.

In 1784 Homfray complained that he was not receiving sufficient metal and tapped Bacon’s furnace at Cyfarthfa. Francis Homfray worked the forge and mill until March 1786. However, after a disagreement with Bacon over the supply of iron, he gave up the lease of the Cyfarthfa property.

Francis encouraged two of his sons – Samuel and his older brother Jeremiah to lease land at Penydarren, next to the Morlais Brook and build an ironworks. After years of fierce competition with the Dowlais and Cyfarthfa Ironworks, they began to prosper. Samuel took over as proprietor of the Penydarren works, while Jeremiah moved to Ebbw Vale.

Samuel was one of the chief promoters of the Glamorganshire Canal, which opened in 1795 and cost £103,000, of which he subscribed £40,000 and which enabled the transporting of heavy manufactured iron to Cardiff docks. In 1804 Samuel won a 1000 guineas wager with Richard Crawshay as to which of them could first build a steam locomotive for use in their works. Homfray employed Richard Trevithick for this purpose and his locomotive won the bet, hauling five wagons, carrying ten tons of iron and seventy men, at a speed of five miles an hour.

In 1800, Samuel married Jane Morgan, daughter of Sir Charles Gould Morgan, 1st Baronet of Tredegar House, and thus obtained a favorable lease of mineral land at Tredegar, where he established the Tredegar Ironworks.

In 1813 he left the Penydarren Iron Company to concentrate his resources on developing the Tredegar Ironworks. Handicapped at Penydarren by a shortage of coal on the property, he faced no such problems when he built his new works. By 1823 Tredegar had five furnaces in blast, producing over 16,000 tons of iron each year.

Homfray’s connection with Penydarren was re-established in 1817 when his daughter Amelia married one of the works’ new owners, William Thompson.

In 1813 he was appointed High Sheriff of Monmouthshire and, having unsuccessfully standing as a candidate for a seat in Parliament for Brecknock in 1806, he was elected as Member of Parliament for the Borough of Stafford in 1818.

He relinquished his seat two years later, and he died on 22 May 1822 in London and was buried at Bassaleg.

Merthyr’s Bridges: Rhydycar Canal Bridge

One of Merthyr’s most distinctive, yet overlooked bridges is the Rhydycar Canal Bridge.

Rhydycar Canal Bridge in the early 1900’s. Photo courtesy of http://www.alangeorge.co.uk/index.htm

The Rhydycar Canal Bridge, or more precisely, the Vale of Neath Railway Bridge, was built in approximately 1850 to carry the Vale of Neath Railway over the Glamorganshire Canal. The Canal was the prime artery of trade linking the ironworks of Merthyr Tydfil with their markets via the port of Cardiff throughout the heyday of the iron industry, from the late 18th Century to the mid 19th Century. Construction of the Canal began at Merthyr in 1790, and it was opened in 1794. It was financed primarily by iron industry interests, among whom the Crawshay family of Cyfarthfa Ironworks were the leading shareholders.

With the growth of the railway industry, the importance of the canal began to wane as several companies brought lines into Merthyr. The Vale of Neath Railway Company built a line from Merthyr Tydfil and Aberdare to Neath, chiefly to transport the products of the Merthyr iron industries to the port at Swansea. The line opened in 1851, and at Rhydycar, the two transport hubs intersected with the railway bridge over the canal.

The bridge, which was built on the site of an earlier bridge, is built of coursed rubble sandstone and brick. It is built on the skew, and comprises three arches. The central arch, which spanned the canal, is elliptical with a 5.5 metre span, and a height of 6.7 metres at its apex. This arch is flanked by two smaller arches which accommodated the towpath of the canal. There are also three access arches in each pier of the main arch, leading to the towpaths.

Following the closure of the railway, the bridge gradually fell in to disrepair. In 2009, it was announced that by Merthyr Council that the bridge would be repaired and renovated. The work was intended stabilise a large vertical crack and stonework. They also intended to return it to its historic setting in the canal basin by excavating an area to reveal the buried canal profile and repairing and reinstating the canal walls. However, these plans never came to fruition.

The bridge is now scheduled as a GradeII listed building as a now rare example of one of the early bridges on the important Glamorganshire Canal.

A Hidden Grave

Most people will have visited Zoar Chapel – either when it was still being used as a chapel, or more recently since its renovation and transformation into Canolfan Soar. How many of you knew, however, that there is a secret grave inside the building?

In 1841 the membership of Zoar Chapel had grown to such an extent that it was decided that a new, larger building was needed to accommodate the growing congregation. They decided that the new chapel should be 66 feet by 63 feet – making it one of the largest chapels in the town.

To accommodate the new building, as well as building over the graveyard, which was subsequently vaulted under the new chapel, the committee had to purchase several pieces of ground from Mr Abraham Bowen, a local businessman for £300. As the orientation of the new building was to be turned 180°, three small houses would need to be purchased from Mr John Morgan, a puddler in the Cyfarthfa Ironworks, for the entrance to the new chapel.

The grave in the cupboard at Zoar Chapel – the top can be seen just against the back wall.

John Morgan agreed to sell the houses for £200, but he stipulated that he and his family should have a vault set aside for them and they eventually be buried within the chapel. As it is set out in the agreement of 31 May 1841:-

“The said John Morgan in consideration of the sum of £200.00 to be secured in the after agreement to sell unto Benjamin Owen, a piece or parcel of ground situated at the back of Zoar Chapel for its rebuild.

John Morgan his executor’s administrators and assigns sufficient space beneath the surface of the said ground at the spot marked “A” in the said plan for a vault to be made by him or Zoar executors at his own expense in length eight feet in width, and three feet in depth, eight feet with of liberty entrance and accepts thereof and which said space at the southern side, which said space is to be arched over securely by the said Rev Benjamin Owen for the residue of 195 years by indenture of lease dated 22nd June 1802 made by Walter Walters and Henry Thomas known as Harri Blawdd (Henry the flour) for a yearly pepper corn rent.”

Indeed John Morgan and his family were eventually interred within Zoar Chapel and their grave can still be seen in small room to the left of the former pulpit.

Photos courtesy of Canolfan Soar.

Rose Mary Crawshay – part 1

by Irene Janes

Most of my life (67 years of it) the surname Crawshay has sent shivers down my spine and an innate hatred of the dynasty of Iron Masters of Cyfarthfa.

A few years ago, I came across a woman with intelligence, foresight, determination and inspiration, Rose Mary Yates, also known to us as, Mrs Robert Crawshay. True she is not a native of Merthyr Tydfil or Wales but her efforts transcend boundaries and time.

As is the case of many wealthy, bored and unemployed women, charity work is often the ‘hobby’ of choice. With Rose Mary, this may have been true in the beginning. However having completed my little bit of research I see a different woman.

It could have been one evening, sitting in her home, with its turrets and three hundred and sixty five windows, she sat in front of yellow leaping flames throwing its heat from the coal dug out from one of her husband’s mines. Her silk dress with layers of frilly petticoats may have rustled as she turned the pages to find one of her favourite poems by Lord Byron. With daylight fading perhaps, her attention wondered beyond the parklands walls to other yellow leaping fires of her husband’s family iron works in Cyfarthfa. Her life to those women and men labourers could not have been more different. Her home fire kept her warm, the works fires killed and maimed. Rooms she had many but in the town families were squashed into windowless, two roomed cellars with damp running down the walls. Children of all and any ages sent out to work, steal or beg, it didn’t matter which as long it was to help with their families’ survival.

If she was, a charity hobbyist this soon changed to philanthropist.

She organised soup kitchens and instructed them to be open three days a week. With the bodies of the needy and poor being fed, Rose Mary turned her attention to their overall well-being. She set up classes to encourage women to make clothes and make the patterns from old newspapers.

Books were given to her husband’s workers. Nevertheless, this was not enough for this particular Mrs Crawshay who knew the importance of education. In total, she opened seven libraries.

The citadel for working class males were the Workmen’s Institutes. Apart from socialising and drinking of beer it was here, the men could access text books and newspapers for knowledge or pleasure. Quite rightly, Rose Mary saw the inequality of it all. To counterbalance this she ensured her libraries opened on a Sunday too so women had the same opportunities.

Still recalled today, Abercanaid, February 1862 forty-nine men and boys were killed either from suffocation or burns in the Gethin Pit explosion. The pit had been sunk by William Crawshay II to provide coal for the Cyfarthfa works. Rose Mary visited every family who had lost some one in the disaster. Indeed, here is a woman who knew her own mind and no Iron master was going to stop her.

Was it Murder at Cyfarthfa Castle?

By William Griffiths
Transcribed by Carl Llewellyn

Cyfarthfa Castle was built according to the plans of William Crawshay in 1825. He was an iron-master of the Cyfarthfa Ironworks; rich, with a strong will, unassuming yet energetic. While waiting for his Castle to be built, he lived with family at Gwaelodygarth House.

His influence and energy had such an effect on the builders that the Castle was completed in 12 months at a cost of £30,000. Situated in the area of a park, of meadows and woods, it was so placed that a full view of the Iron Works could be seen from its windows. The workers could likewise look upon the edifice and after the affluence of their iron-master up on its elevated ground. At night the blast furnaces illuminated the surrounding country-side, particularly the stone walls of Cyfarthfa Castle its windows reflecting the red and yellow glow of light, in an unusual pattern of colour. The Master had installed his castle with many servants, fit for the magnate he was. His gardeners had changed the grounds into a beautiful park. His gamekeepers patrolled it night and day, against poachers and marauders so prevalent in those days. One of the gamekeepers was named John Lloyd and he lived with his wife at Pontsarn, on the borders of the Cyfarthfa Estate. They were always quarrelling and the servants at the Castle said they were not happy together. Their home at Pontsarn was a lonely place in a beautiful spot: almost at the base of the ancient Morlais Castle, adjacent to the historic site of Vaynor Old Church, where monks had once chanted their prayers and buried the dead of past wars.

Then someone remarked: “John Lloyd’s wife had not been seen for a number of weeks. Is she ill? Has she gone away?” The servants of the Castle began asking questions. But John gave them no answers. The questions became persistent, to be told angrily that she had gone away to Llangyfelach Fair. More weeks passed with no sign of Mrs Lloyd. Meanwhile John carried on at his work in the Castle grounds.

The disappearance could not continue without Mr Crawshay getting to know of it. Eventually he sent for John to question him on the subject: for at that time an employer had far greater power over an employee’s personal affairs than exists today. The Master was waiting for him in one of the living rooms of the Castle, as John gave an extra rub on his boots, before being shown in by a servant. As he entered the magnificently furnished room Mr Crawshay was walking away from him towards the large fireplace. John stood waiting for the Master to turn around but did not, he stood with his back to him, addressing him in a firm tone.

“Well Lloyd – what have you to say about your missing wife? Now understand man: I want the truth.” He turned quickly, raising the tone of his voice on the last sentence. John Lloyd, not a good looking man held his head down making incoherent and confused replies. He pulled at his smock with his left hand, not knowing what to do with his hat, which he held in his right. The more questions Mr Crawshay asked the more nervous he became. It was a conflict between master and servant, emotion being displayed by both men for a basic reason. All the power of position was at the command of the rich industrialist, yet dissatisfied with the result, he waved his arms in front of his gamekeeper, telling him he had no alternative – he must inform the police immediately. “Go” he told him, “Return to your work”. The Merthyr Tydfil Police interviewed John Lloyd later, in conjunction with the Breconshire authorities, for it was situated in that county. They searched the house for clues. Apparently nothing important was found relating to the missing lady, so the mystery became a talking point at Cyfarthfa Works, and eventually the whole district.

The Merthyr Police had now officially contacted headquarters in London, requesting that two investigators be sent to the town to work on the case. They began methodically as compared to the local officers, by questioning all who were acquainted with John Lloyd, judging the character of good or bad behaviour. “Was he jealous of his wife?”. They asked “Did he bear her? Did she have any men friends?” They circled the suspect with their queries: then they approached him singly, and together: They searched his house; dug in his garden; went next-door; gossiped to the neighbours, while John was at work. All those actions they took in the nerve war against him. It was said of Lloyd that he was unperturbed by the investigations. Each evening he made his way home on the rocky path through the woods and lanes of the Gurnos farmland to Pontsarn. His two dogs running to and fro, as he walked: the glow of the Cyfarthfa Iron Works, lighting the place in a shadowy twilight. Guilty or not, the man acted naturally, notwithstanding the pressure of suspicion around him.

Many thought him guilty, saying he had an evil looking face, as if the look of a man’s face proved his guilt: whereas it is well known that the most handsome of men can be murderous. The London Police were not concerned about John’s looks. They had to get the facts. They followed him around the estate, talking to him on the subjects of game, or poachers in general. They made him stand near the furnace where he boiled down the bones and meal for the Cyfarthfa hounds. A careful examination was made of the vessels – the furnace itself. They collected samples while many eyes watched them from Castle windows. “Those London police are too late.” it was whispered from one to another: “John Lloyd had done his wife in: boiled her down as food for hounds!” “He was very particular in cleaning the vessels. Sir, after his wife was missing”, a servant volunteered to the police. The investigators followed all the suggestions made to them, and despite a detailed enquiry, had to admit they were baffled. John remained free, as far as he was allowed to be under the investigation, so days passed to months.

They eventually presented their report, which turned out to be of insufficient evidence. So John Lloyd was not charged with the murder of his wife. The police returned to London. It is not known if the suspect remained in the employment of William Crawshay at Cyfarthfa Castle Estate. He lived for about 25 years in the Merthyr area, dying in a Poor-law Institution, diseased and wretched so it is believed, but with no foundation in fact. At the time of Lloyd’s death, a skeleton was found on the borders of the estate, presumed although not established to be the remains of Mrs Lloyd.

John Lloyd was alleged to be the murderer of his wife: the investigation into the case was thorough at the time, when men were hanged for far less crimes than killing their wives. The evidence basically was that Mrs Lloyd was missing or disappeared. No additional facts were produced against Lloyd: therefore according to the enquiry, no charge of a crime was made against him. Let that be his epitaph, and so be it.

Russia still honours a Merthyr Tydfil immigrant

by Irene Janes

Dowlais 1814, baby John James Hughes pushes his way into the world and the Merthyr Tydfil air filled his lungs, and although he took his last breath 75 years later, and on a different continent, the story grows, even today.

Unlike many other babies born that day in Merthyr, John had a chance of a better life. The proud Dad was head engineer of the Cyfarthfa Ironworks. Although John was semi literate, unable to write and only read capital letters he was a quick learner in the ironworks under the supervision of his father.

Full of innovations and ambition, in 1840, John joined the Uskside Foundary in Newport. Here he patented a number of inventions in armaments and armour plating. His fortune was set and by the age of twenty-eight, he owned a shipyard and eight years later a foundry, but like Merthyr Tydfil, Newport could not hold him for long.

His reputation was extended not only over the borders of his homeland but those of continents when as manager of the residual Millwall Iron Works Company in London he was credited for the iron cladding of wooden warships for the British Admiralty. Along with this, he designed a gun carriage for heavy cannons, which were eagerly bought by our Navy and other European countries.

The Imperial Russian government wanted plating for a naval fortress being built at Kronstadt on the Baltic Sea. Naturally enough they sought the services of John and the Millwall Iron Works. John was thrilled to accept a concession from the Imperial Russian government to develop metal works and acquired a piece of land, a steppe, north of the Azov Sea, Russia.

Just imagine the apprehension, excitement, fear and anticipation when a year later John Hughes had acquired the services of over a hundred skilled labourers, iron workers and miners from Merthyr and the surrounding valleys, some with their families. What faith they must have had in this man to follow him to a country, two thousand miles away with freezing Russian winters, scorching hot summers, the forever-stalking cholera, and a language they did not know. Eight ships filled with people, but mostly equipment, set sail not knowing what difference they would make to a piece of wasteland. Nevertheless, John’s vision extended to beyond building a metal works. He personally provided a hospital, good quality housing, school, bath-houses, tearooms, a fire brigade and an Anglican Church. An established town quickly grew when the steel plant went into full production and the sinking of several coalmines. The town was named Hughesovka (Yuzovka). Nevertheless, I doubt if even John Hughes even dreamt that in 2018 he is still being honoured there.

Hughesovka Blast Furnaces in 1888. Photo courtesy of http://www.alangeorge.co.uk/index.htm

Sadly, while on a business trip at the Angleterre Hotel in St Petersburg on, 17 June 1889, John took his last breath. His wife arranged for his burial in West Norwood Cemetery, London. Four of his six sons took over the management of the works. By 1913 the works in Hughesovka was the largest in the Russian Empire producing seventy five percent of all Russian iron.

In 1924, after the revolution and under soviet rule, in a bid to re write history, communist U.S.S.R leaders decided to rename Hugesovka to Stalino (Stalin).

The name of the town was changed again in 1961, to distance it from its former leader Stalin, to one, which is more familiar – Donetsk. Nevertheless, it’s good to know one of its areas is still called Hughesovka (Yuzovka )

The United States of Soviet Russia is no more and Donetsk is now a city in the Ukraine. Its political landscape has changed many times. In May 2014 a referendum was held where it is said 90% of the voters wanted independence. A month later it was declared that the town was the self proclaimed Donetsk Peoples Republic. The European Union and the United States said the referendum was legal although Ukraine does not recognise it. Sadly, this transition has not been bloodless and many battles have been fought in Donetsk this century.

However, the town remains a testimony for John Hughes and those Welsh workers and their families who shaped a piece of land into what is today a major metallurgical industries centre with a population of over two million.

In 2014 his statute was erected outside their engineering university. There were plans for a museum in John’s honour, but again the people of Donetsk have had political issues to deal with.

Many thanks to Irene for contributing this fascinating article.

The Gethin Pit Explosion – 1862

One hundred and fifty six years ago today, on 19 February 1862, Merthyr was rocked by the news of a horrific explosion at the Gethin Colliery in Abercanaid.

Gethin Colliery comprised of two seperate pits – Lower Pit (Gethin Colliery No 1) and Upper Pit (Gethin Colliery No 2). The Gethin Pit was established in 1849, when it was sunk by William Crawshay II to provide coal for the Cyfarthfa Works.

An 1875 map of Abercanaid showing the location of the Gethin Colliery

As the coal had been worked the gas had drained away naturally. At the time of the explosion the mines were being sunk to a greater depth and giving off greater quantities of gas which demanded greater skill and attention in their management.

At the time of the disaster, the mine was being managed by John Moody and various others including his son (Thomas Moody). Thomas Thomas, the fireman who ran the safety checks of the mine reported: “All is right, but there is a little gas in John Jones’ heading…….No.20 about 10 yards back from the face there had been a bit of a fall above the timbers and gas was lodged there.”

Thomas Thomas was actually at work when the explosion occurred. He had just examined the Nos. 16 to 19 cross headings, found everything all right and was on his way for his dinner. He reached the No. 14 heading when he was knocked down from behind and burnt by the blast. It was about 2 p.m.

Mr G.H. Laverick, viewer at the Plymouth Works heard the explosion at 2 p.m. He went to the pit where he met Mr Bedlington Kirkhouse, mineral agent of the Cyfarthfa Colliery, and went down the pit. He examined the doors at the No. 13 and 14 headings and a great many bodies had been brought there. He reported:

“I then proceeded to the No.18 when I got up about 50 yards on the road I picked up a burnt handkerchief. At the bottom of the No.19 heading there was a horse blown across the level. Attached to the chain was a train of coal the train was off the road, about eight or nine feet from the north side level. On the west side of the heading saw a portion of what seemed to have been a door did not observe anything of the other doors there had been a fall of earth between the level and the windroad could not proceed any further because of the chokedamp. I believe that the door at the bottom of No.19 must have been kept open at the time, otherwise it would have been shattered to pieces. The haulier was jammed between the rib and the trams. They had to left the tram to remove his body. The horse was blown across with it’s head inclined to the west, indicating that the blast had come down the heading from the north. Further up we came across four men who appeared to have had their dinners, for the stoppers being out of their bottles. They appeared to be suffocated.”

In all, 47 men and boys were killed in the explosion.

The enquiry into the explosion, which took nine days, found that the presence of poor ventilation, fire-damp (an accumulation of gases, mostly methane, that occurs in coal mines) and the irresponsible use of naked flames for lighting were the root causes of the explosion.

John Moody, after testifying, was acquitted of two charges, however he was found guilty of manslaughter by the jury. Later, a grand jury heard the evidence and produced the verdict of “No true bill”.

Just three years later, on 20 December 1865, another explosion occurred at the Gethin Colliery, this time at No 2 Pit, killing 36 men and boys. The cause of the explosion was found to be exactly the same as the first, yet once again John Moody was acquitted of manslaughter at the subsequent trial.

Coal production ceased at the Gethin Colliery in the 1920’s and it was used as a pumping station until its closure in 1947.