Tag: Merthyr Railway Station

Merthyr’s New Post Office

The grand new Central Post Office in John Street was opened 120 years ago today. Below is an article about the opening, and also a fantastic photograph of the opening ceremony.

Weekly Mail – 25 November 1905
Courtesy of the Alan George Archive

Merthyr’s Lost Landmarks: High Street Railway Station

by Carolyn Jacob

Photo courtesy of the Alan George Archive

At one time most immigrants to Merthyr Tydfil simply walked unless they got a lift on a farm cart, but the few roads were poor. The early Iron-master, Anthony Bacon, built the first direct road between Merthyr Tydfil and Cardiff. The transportation of bulky iron products to the sea ports led to the building of the Glamorganshire Canal. The locomotives and trains of no less than six railway companies ran into the Merthyr station which had the title of ‘High Street’ rather than the more common ‘Central’.

The Taff Vale Railway had been first to arrive in Merthyr with a line from Cardiff and Pontypridd to their Plymouth Street station in 1841, followed by the Vale of Neath in 1853, soon to be taken over by the Great Western. These were followed by the Brecon & Merthyr whose operations stretched down to Newport and the London & North Western with their line from Abergavenny. The final arrivals were the Rhymney Railway with access provided from Quakers Yard by their joint line with the GWR, while the Cambrian Railway had running powers through to Merthyr. In 1922 all were absorbed by the GWR.

Courtesy of the Alan George Archive

Isambard Kingdom Brunel was involved in railway projects here.  ‘The railway sets you down in Merthyr at precisely the quaintest centre of the old town. There is an ancient atmosphere pervading‘, wrote Wirt Sikes, an American, in 1880.  In 1856 Prince Louis Bonaparte arrived at the High Street station. On 1 April 1944, the King and Queen and Princess Elizabeth took the Royal train from the High Street station. Thousands of rails were manufactured here and the Dowlais Works sold rails to Russia, America and India. However, a hundred years ago the local Sunday trip or holiday was only to Pontsarn or the Brecon Beacons. During the Second World War many evacuees arrived by train. One evacuee wrote in a letter home; ‘we watch the trains arriving into Merthyr Tydfil railway station from the top of the slag heaps’.

In its heyday, the striking timbered roof, five operational platforms and more than 80 members of staff, ensured Merthyr High Street Station was in a class of its own. It had excellent facilities. There were refreshment rooms where first-class passengers could buy breakfast for 1s 6d. In 1945 the ticket boxes were open continuously except for 1.45pm to 2.45pm on Sundays and 12.30am to 4am on Mondays. There were toilets and brightly coloured advertisements for products such as Bovril and Venos’ Cough Cure. The waiting rooms were a pleasure to sit in, with large coal fires and plenty of seats. The station was kept litter-free and clean. High Street station cleaner Margaret Pritchard was so conscientious keeping the Merthyr Station spick and span that she accidentally polished over important finger prints after a robbery.

Photo courtesy of the Alan George Archive

In the 1960s young fighters trained by former boxer Eddie Thomas would weigh on the scales in the goods depot at the station, the most accurate scales in town. The station a centre for local sporting life, filled with the sound of cooing racing pigeons and the raucous barking of whippet dogs. In 1953, after 98 years, the roof designed by Brunel was removed and in 1987 the fire-ravaged goods shed at the station was demolished.

In the 1960s Merthyr lost nearly all its passenger services except the Taff Vale route to Cardiff. In 1971 and new station building was erected but it was a shadow of its former self. The official opening of the present new Merthyr Railway Station was February 1996 by Councillor Ray Thomas. The new station which cost £500,000 to build was funded by the sale of the old station just 120 metres away.

The Dark Side of Convict Life – part 24

by Barrie Jones

Chapter XXI. Henry recounts the remainder of his journey from Parkhurst Prison and his arrival at Merthyr Tydfil station, where is met by his mother and two younger sisters.  

The Dark Side of Convict Life (Being the Account of the Career of Harry Williams, a Merthyr Man). Merthyr Express, 18th June 1910, page 11.

Chapter XXI

As stated in my last chapter, I changed at Newport Mon., and had to wait some time before the motor train came in, and while patrolling the platform I was accosted by a young woman, who with tears in her eyes, one of which was black and blue, told me a pitiful tale of how she had run away from her husband, a Spaniard, who had brutally ill-treated her. In addition to the black eye the wretch had evidently used a knife upon her, as one of her hands was also bandaged up. Seeing me in a blue pilot suit she took me for a sailor. “I suppose,” says she, “you’ve just come from sea?” I said “yes, and I’ve had rather a long spell of it, too.” It was quite true, for I had crossed from Cowes to Southampton, although it was only twelve miles of water.

Thinking I must be the possessor of some money she asked me if I would lend her 1s. 6d. as she wished to go to her mother, living at a certain place, and that she would leave me her wedding ring as a security, which she did not wish to pawn, and I did not like to take. Finally, I asked her whether her tale was bona-fide, and assuring me that it was, I gave her the money, although I had only a few shillings until I reached my home. She immediately flung her arms around my neck, and the smack of her lips sounded all over the station. You can imagine my feelings, for I blushed from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet, but it was her sudden joy, mixed with passion, that prompted her to do so, and I must confess that if it had not been for the wedding ring she wore I should have fallen in love with her there and then, passing over her black eye and damaged hand.

The train came in at last, and I stepped in the carriage, and just as the train was leaving the woman held out her hand and, of course, I shook it. She also made a daring attempt to repeat what she had already done, but she was too late, for she kissed the window instead, and I saw her wave her poor, bloodstained bandaged hand long after the train had left Newport. If you like, you can draw a moral from all this, for a man who ill-treats a woman, no matter what she has done, is a cad, and I’m not going to apologise for saying so, and I can assure you, all the way to my destination I resolved to lead  a better life, and with God’s help, to live down the past.

After a decent journey, the train arrived at Troedyrhiw. I said to myself, “Only one more station, Abercanaid, and then I shall soon be in Merthyr.” Looking out of the carriage window my eyes fell on the Gethin Colliery, then further up was the Cwm Pit, where I had met with the accident years ago, and where I little thought I should work again so soon.

Merthyr at last. I got out of the train leisurely walking up the platform, having  a good look out to see if I knew anyone. I had not gone far before I saw the backs of one aged and two young women, each of the latter nursing a child. I edged up a little nearer to them, and heard one say, “I wonder if that’s him over there,” pointing to another man. “No, he’s too tall to be him.” “But he might have grown, mam,” she answered.

I’m sure I should never have known them, if I had not heard the topic of their conversation. Nine years absence makes a great alteration. I thought it was about time for me to turn around, but no sooner had I done so and our eyes met, than the youngest woman, who was my sister Louisa, gave a shriek that could be heard in the Isle of Wight, so to speak, for there, half-laughing and half-crying, stood my darling old mother and two sisters.

“Whatever have you got there in the shawl?” says I to the youngest. “It’s a baby, Harry,” says she. “What! A baby?” says I. “You don’t mean to say you’re married?” says I. “For if you have done it, the best thing you can do is to go to the parson and tell him you only did it for a lark.” “I think,” says the witty little creature, “the best thing you can do is to come with us to the barber’s shop and get that beard taken off for really you look a fright.” And sure enough to a barber’s shop I did go, and got it off.

After the operation they escorted me to the home of my childhood, where I had a kind welcome from most of the inhabitants, who had known me from a child. Although I had been  a wild one I was liked by all.

To be continued….

Merthyr Station and its Approaches

From the Merthyr Express 80 years ago today….

Merthyr Express – 29 July 1944