Tag: Georgetown School

The Dark Side of Convict Life – part 25

by Barrie Jones

Chapter XXII. Henry recounts his return to honest labour at Cwm Pit Colliery, and the problems encountered in concealing his past.  

The Dark Side of Convict Life (Being the Account of the Career of Harry Williams, a Merthyr Man). Merthyr Express, 25th June 1910, page 9.

Chapter XXII

Nine years of incessant labour on a convicts settlement plays havoc with  a man’s strength. After about three weeks’ rest I made up my mind to look for a job; so I wandered up to Heolgerrig, where I knew of an overman, and who was known as Shoney Bach for short. I met   him just outside his house and walked up to him. I said, “Is there any chance for a start, Mr W_______” “Indeed,” he replied, “I’m afraid that the pit is full up” “I am very sorry,” says I, “but I happen to be badly in want of a start just now.” “There may be a chance later on,” says he. “What is your name?” “Harry Williams,” says I. “What, are you the same Harry Williams that used to go to Georgetown School with me, and who was sentenced to penal servitude years ago?” “I am the same one,” I replied. “Good heavens, Harry,” says he, “You have altered.” After giving me a bit of good advice he said, “You can come to work to-night, Harry, I will put you on the screen until I see something better for you.”

I thanked him, and went home to make preparations, and on the following day I went to the offices on the head of the pit to sign on. Having done so, I went home and started work that night. I was getting on very well, for although the work in the screen was a bit dusty I preferred it to the dust of the Portland limestone. I was not long on the screen before I was sent under to work as labourer. There was no one there at the time who knew me, although I recognised several faces, one or two who had been schoolmates. I kept as much as possible to myself, for I did not want the whole pit to know that I was a released convict on ticket-of-leave. But no matter how hard a person tries to conceal his identity, spotted he will be in the end, as I was. Not that I cared in the least, for I had suffered for what I had done.

I was one night told off by the fireman to the heading to shift a few trams of debris, and I was accompanied by a young chap named Peter Lodge. An agreeable little fellow was Peter, and we got on well together; for we devised a way to do our work properly without killing ourselves. Peter and I didn’t work the same as other shifters, one shifting one tram and the other shifting the next one. Peter and I used to drive in at the same tram, and then sit down and take a rest until the next came. Yes, I often think of young Peter now, for a better little comrade not to be found in a day’s march.

But even in a coalmine there can be found some interfering person, and one night Peter and I were having our snap time – that is a rest from twelve to one – when two labourers whom I knew, although they did not know me at the time, came into our place, sat down on a lump of coal, and proceeded to “chew the fat” with Peter, my mate. “Hullo,” says one, “you’ve got a new mate with you to-night, Peter.” “Yes,” says he, and turning to me, they said, “You know, mate, you’ve got to pay your footing.” “So I suppose,” says I, “but which way will you have it, standing up here or  a boxing contest up at Taylor’s?” (This being a well-known boxing saloon). But I wasn’t having any of it, for I did not wish to be sent back to Portland to do my ticket. Anyway they cooled down in the end, and one of them, lifting his lamp, looked into my face, and turning to his mate, he said, “Do you know who this fellow looks like?” “No,” says the other. “Why, Harry Williams,” says his mate; him who was sentenced to penal servitude in 98.” “Oh I remember,” replied the other, “do you mean Harry Cobler?” “Of course, I do.” So, they then kept my name in their brain, and mixing my character up, one giving me a good name, and the other condemning me.

Of course, I had already told Peter who I was, and when their conversation was getting heated, Peter was laughing fit to burst, for little did they know that I was the man. The snap time over, they had to clear out of it, and  a few more trams of debris were brought with it. Knocking off time came, and Peter and I put our shovels away, and made our way back to the shaft, and off home. That’s all I know of the first night for many years of the Cwm Pit Colliery.

To be continued…..

Merthyr Tydfil Youth Brass Band

by Carl Llewellyn

While in conversation with a fellow Dowlais choir chorister Richard Cole, we began to reminisce about our time together in the Merthyr Tydfil Brass Band. Next choir rehearsal Richard brought along a photograph of the band in the 60’s, between both of us we managed to piece together all but one of the band’s assemblages.

About 1965 members of the Georgetown and Gellifaelog School Brass Bands combined to form the Merthyr Tydfil Brass Band under the directorship of Mr Elwyn Farrell. Mr Farrell was a teacher of mathematics at Georgetown School and an accomplished cornet player, whose family had strong ties with the local Salvation Army corps.

The band membership increased quickly with other players who had originally joined the brass bands before their transfer to Quakers Yard Technical School in Treharris.

Despite the band’s formation Georgetown and Gellifaelog school bands still retained their own identity in assisting their school assemblies’ accompaniment of school hymns, with Mr Farrell taking up the baton for Georgetown School Band while Mr Richard Pendry conducting the Gellifaelog School Band.

To help young instrumentalists the band membership were grateful to older players who gave their time to help nurture young brass band musicians.

Most of the rehearsals were held at the old YMCA sports room located on the upper level of the YMCA. In the short history of the brass band, they appeared at local charity events including the Christmas tree ceremony outside the town hall. The Brass Band entered a number of competitions such as the Park and Dare Hall in Treorchy, and the Brangwyn Hall in Swansea.

I believe the Merthyr Tydfil Brass Band finished about 1968, when the older band members of school leaving age left their schools, with fewer school pupils pursuing an interest in their school Brass Bands and the Youth band, the numbers dwindled leaving no option but for the band conductor Mr Farrell to disband the musical organisation. After Mr Farrell’s retirement from the teaching profession, he moved to Libanus, Brecon then moved to Sweden where he died.

Back row (l-r): Ivor Roberts, Ernie Lanchesbury, Gareth Oates, Derek Williams, Joyce Rubery, Michael Rees, Martin Carey, Alvin Head, Cyril Williams, Richard Owens

Middle row (l-r): Richard Cole, Alan Evans, Carl Llewellyn, Maldwyn Williams, John Lenard, Peter Lozano, Michael Baldwin, Ieuan Harris

Front row (l-r): Anthony Williams, Gail Bartlett, Dayton Griffiths, Elva Thomas, Gwyn James, Elwyn Farrell (conductor), Raymond Hancock, Jane Thomas, Philip Kinsey, Allan Davies, Philip Fly

The Dark Side of Convict Life – part 1

by Barrie Jones

This is a transcript of the serialisation of Henry William’s life of crime and his terms of imprisonment, titled The Dark Side of Convict Life, covering a total of twenty-three chapters in editions of the Merthyr Express from the 29th January 1910 to the 2nd July 1910. Henry’s prison records mark him as one of ‘imperfect’ education and the serialisation’s grammar suggests that the account of his criminal career was in part ‘ghosted,’ probably by a journalist at the Merthyr Express. Further research into Henry’s early life and details of his crimes and court judgements, show that Henry omitted or glossed over some aspects of his life of crime. Also, his life of crime extended well beyond the date his ‘memoir’ was written.

The Dark Side of Convict Life (Being the Account of the Career of Harry Williams, a Merthyr Man). Merthyr Express, 29th January 1910, page 12.

Introductory

My Dear Readers, – It is my sincere desire and wish that all those who have taken a wrong step in life will check, before it is too late, their evil courses, which is certain in the end to bring them to destruction. I do not for one moment, dear readers, accuse you of wrongdoing. God forbid! But to quote the words of the Bible: “Watch, lest ye also fall into condemnation.” It is a very easy thing to get into trouble. But, oh! how hard it is to wipe off the stains. We not only disgrace ourselves, but also our innocent loved ones. I do not think there is a single soul on God’s earth who has not experienced trouble of some description or other. Some people’s troubles are greater than others; some sins are more serious than others, but they are all considered equal in the sight of God, but, as it says in Holy Scripture, “Though thy sins be as scarlet they shall be white as wool.” Therefore, I wish to give you an insight into my own past life, of what nature sin is, and how far it will go to spoil our happiness. In my narrative I will relate the sufferings of poor unfortunate, shall I say pieces of humanity, and the things practised within the walls of our British Convict Prisons, hoping not to weary my readers too much.

Chapter I.

My sole object of choosing the “Dark Side of Convict Life” as the title of my narrative, is simply because I know of no bright side to the life of a poor convict. To begin with, I was once the son of a middle-class boot and shoe manufacturer, and my father was well known within the circle of influential tradesmen as a keen man of business. When I was a little lad rumours had been floating about that he was the heir to an extensive estate, which ultimately fell into the hands of the now Viscount Lord _______. Measures were adopted to restore the estate, but without success, as the will, somehow or other, had been buried or burned. Thus, fate was against father as it has since been against me. When I was not much more than three years of age I was sent to the Cyfarthfa Infants School, and after going through my course there as a child, I was transferred to the Georgetown Board School. I had a very good master, Mr. Jones by name, and a thorough gentleman; a man who knew how to work a school without a great deal of trouble with his pupils. He was also well respected, and well-liked by parents of lads placed under his care. Some of these old schoolboys are now men of position in the world, and some have drifted downwards like myself; but it was not for want of care and attention. Mr. Jones always did his best to bring us up as men, and apart from his teaching he trained us in physical drill. Some people are too apt to believe that the condition of a man is due to his brining up in the past, but nothing of the kind, for no matter how a lad has been brought up it does not follow that he will continue that course all through life.

Some people are born to be unfortunate, and I am one of those unfortunates. Still, it says in the Bible that “The rod and reproof giveth wisdom, but a child left to himself bringeth his mother to shame.” Now, that is quite the opposite in thousands of cases, Still further it says, “Correct thy son, and when he is old he will not depart from it.” That is quite correct, but have I not been corrected? When I was young was I not brought up in the midst of Christianity? Yes, I was but I departed from it. Yes, I am sorry to say I have, but it was not for the want of trying to do better, for I really have tried to live down the past, but I have been overtaken each time by misfortune. As General Booth says in his book on “Darkest England,” “That he believes there is a certain time for the turning point in each man and woman’s life, and I believe that time has come for me.”

I left school at the age of thirteen, and although not very classical, I managed to learn my three “R’s”. My mother then placed me with a well-known Merthyr chemist, but I did not use the pestle and mortar very long before I showed signs of a longing for more active work. In short, I wanted to work in the pits, but my mother had such a dread of the coal mine that she would not think of allowing her pet boy (for such I was considered that time) to go to work underground, for she had seen so many during her life carried home killed. My father said, “Let the lad go to work in the pit, it will make a man of him.” But, in the end, it nearly made a corpse of me. My mother had to give in, and before very long I was equipped ready to start as a collier boy. I was not long working underground before my dear old mother’s fears were realised. I was working with a miner by the name of William Haman in the six feet seam at the Cwm Pit Colliery, and one day I was engaged upon my knees filling the coal box when suddenly without the slightest warning, part of the roof gave way, and a large stone about two tons came crashing down within a foot of me. Fortunately for me it only struck the box, but the box tamped up, and dealt me a violent blow on the head, tearing back with its sharp edge nearly half my scalp. I at once fell unconscious to the ground, and when I awoke I found myself at home and in bed all bandaged up, the doctor having sewn my head right round from ear to ear. It was one of the narrowest escapes known to have occurred in a coal mine, for if I had been one foot further in towards the sea I should have been smashed beyond recognition. This was only the beginning of my troubles.

To be continued…..

New Ration Books

From the Merthyr Express 80 years ago today…..

Merthyr Express – 16 May 1942

Merthyr Memories: The Last Days of Georgetown School

I was one those people lucky enough to attend Cyfarthfa School on all three of its sites – Georgetown, Cyfarthfa Castle and Cae Mari Dwn. In fact, I was in the very last intake of pupils to go to Georgetown before it closed its doors forever.

Georgetown School was in fact a cluster of several buildings. The two main buildings – in my day ‘The Main Block’ and ‘The Art Block’, were the original school buildings – formerly Georgetown Girl’s School built in 1905 and Georgetown Boy’s School built in 1907. These subsequently became Georgetown Secondary Modern School, with the ‘Main Block’ being the the Boys and girls school, now joined by a corridor whilst the ‘Art Block’ was Georgetown Infants School.

An extract from a 1922 map of Merthyr showing the original layout of Georgetown Schools. From left to right – the Boys School, The Girls School and the Infants School.

There was also a wooden building, dating from the days when Georgetown was a Secondary Modern, known in my day as ‘The Annexe’, housing the metalwork workshop and the domestic science room on the ground floor, and the chemistry/biology lab and the physics lab on the first floor. There were also two ‘huts’ – one housing the language lab, and one the woodwork workshop.

Georgetown School. Left to right – the ‘Annexe’, the ‘Main Block, and the ‘Art Block’. Photo courtesy of http://www.alangeorge.co.uk/index.htm

With the coming of the comprehensive system, Georgetown merged with Cyfarthfa Castle Grammar School to become Cyfarthfa High School. Georgetown served as the lower school – housing forms 1 and 2.

It is fair to say that, by the time I went to Georgetown in 1980, the school had seen better days. One of my lasting memories is seeing various types of mushrooms growing out of the walls in several of the classrooms….a new experience for me!!!!! There were also one or two classrooms with broken windows (health and safety wasn’t such an issue in those days). Granted, the windows were quite high up…but there was no escaping the arctic blasts of wind that would regularly infiltrate the classrooms and reach the parts that other breezes could not reach!!! To be fair, the school was on the verge of closure, so I’m sure material repairs were low on the list of priorities.

Going to Georgetown was a major upheaval for all of us. Up until then, we had all had the same classmates for many years, in my case through infants and junior school in Twynyrodyn, but going to Georgetown we would be mixing with people from OTHER SCHOOLS – Caedraw, Cyfarthfa, Gellideg and Heolgerrig…what’s more, we’d all be mixed up in different classes. It was unbelievably traumatic to think that we would be wrenched from our friends and thrown in with strangers, and we just knew that we would NEVER mix with these others. Within a few weeks however, new friendships were forged.

The other big difference was that, in Twyn School, we had one classroom and one teacher (the incomparable Eddie Humphries in my case). In Georgetown we would have different teachers for different subjects, and we would move from one classroom to another. What’s more, we were doing subjects we’d never even dreamt of – French, Biology, Chemistry, Physics, Metalwork & Woodwork. It was all a great adventure.

Georgetown School in 1982, shortly before being demolished, showing the ‘Main Block’ and the two ‘huts’ that housed the woodwork workshop and the language lab. Photo courtesy of the Alan George Archive

For me though, the bane of my existence in Georgetown were the compulsory PE lessons, especially when we had to trudge up to the Wern Field in Ynysfach in all weathers. Even now, after all of these years, I come out in a cold sweat at the thought of it.

Wern Field in Ynysfach. Photo courtesy of http://www.alangeorge.co.uk/index.htm

Another, and indeed happier memory springs to mind – I remember the whole school assembling in the playground to watch, on a quite a small TV screen, the launch of the first ever Space Shuttle – the Columbia, on 12 April 1981. I remember that there was great excitement, but what we could actually see of the launch on such a small screen, and outdoors, I can’t remember, but the fact that I can remember the occasion must mean it had special significance.

At the end of my first year at Cyfarthfa High School, everything changed. The new Cyfarthfa School at Cae Mari Dwn was ready, and from the next school year, the lower school would be moving to Cyfarthfa Castle. For me, and I think for most people, this was really exciting…..going to school in the famous Cyfarthfa Castle – so we all blithely left Georgetown, not even giving it a second thought – far more exciting prospects lay ahead.

During that summer holiday, the wooden Annexe was destroyed by fire, and within a few years, the rest of the school was demolished. Nothing remains of Georgetown School – except the memories, and they are, on the whole very pleasant ones. I think I was lucky to go there – albeit briefly.

Georgetown School being demolished in 1982. Photo courtesy of the Alan George Archive

Contrasting Fortunes of War

Today marks the 80th anniversary of the Battle of the Denmark Strait, one of the most infamous naval battles of the Second World War.

On 18 May, the new German battleship Bismarck, at the time the most powerful battleship in the world, embarked on her maiden voyage, accompanied by the heavy-cruiser Prinz Eugen. Their mission was to attack the convoys bringing much-needed supplies to Britain from America.

Battleship Bismarck. Photo courtesy of Bundesarchiv, Bild 193-04-1-26 / CC-BY-SA 3.0

In response, the Admiralty deployed as much of the British Fleet as possible to intercept the Bismarck. On the evening of 23 May, the British heavy-cruisers HMS Norfolk and HMS Suffolk spotted the German ships passing through the Denmark Strait – the passage between Iceland and Greenland. The two cruisers, being totally out-gunned by the German ships did not engage then enemy, but reported their position to the Admiralty to enable them to send in bigger ships, able to engage the enemy with heavier fire-power. The cruisers continued to track the ships using radar throughout the night.

The nearest British ships capable of tackling the Germans were the brand-new battleship HMS Prince of Wales, and the Home Fleet flagship, and pride of the British Fleet – HMS Hood. Despite its immense size and reputation, and armed with eight 15-inch guns (the same as the Bismarck), the Hood was an old ship, having been launched in 1918. Furthermore, the Hood had been designed as a battlecruiser – a ship with the fire-power of a battleship, but with the speed of a cruiser. The extra speed was attained by sacrificing the strong armour of a traditional battleship, especially on the deck. This left the Hood very vulnerable to plunging fire.

HMS Hood

At approximately 05.35 on the morning of 24 May, a lookout aboard  the Prince of Wales spotted the German ships. The British ships turned towards the enemy to engage in battle, and at 05.50, Admiral Lancelot Holland, commander of the British taskforce, aboard HMS Hood, ordered the British ships to open fire when in range, and two minutes later, HMS Hood fired the first salvoes of the battle.

Within 8 minutes however, the unthinkable happened. A shell from the Bismarck struck the weak deck of the Hood and plunged through the ship, exploding in the armament magazine. The whole ship erupted in a fireball, broke in two, and sank immediately. From a crew of 1,418, there were three survivors.

The loss of the Hood, would send shockwaves around the world.

In the meantime, the Prince of Wales was being pounded by enemy fire, and unable to continue the battle alone, retreated. The admiralty, devastated by the loss of the Hood, made the immediate decision that the main priority was now to destroy the Bismarck at all costs.

After a thrilling chase across the Atlantic (the details of which are too complex to go into on this blog), on the morning of 27 May, the Bismarck, which had by this time been crippled by a torpedo from a Swordfish plane from the aircraft carrier HMS Ark Royal, was finally cornered by ships of the British fleet. The battleships HMS Rodney and HMS King George V devastated the Bismarck with gunfire, and the heavy-cruiser HMS Dorsetshire finished off the stricken ship with torpedoes. Of Bismarck’s 2,131 crew, there were 115 survivors.

Now we get to the Merthyr connection. Below are two cuttings taken from the Merthyr Express dated 21 June 1941 highlighting the two sides of the battle.

Merthyr Express – 21 June 1941
Merthyr Express – 21 June 1941

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To read more about the Battle of the Denmark Strait, please visit http://www.hmshood.com/history/denmarkstrait/index.htm