100 years ago today….
Tag: Nantygwenith Street
Parry Broadcast at Merthyr
From the Merthyr Express 80 years ago today….
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.
Taking the Nantygwenith Road first, with the exception of one occupied by David Evans, the master carpenter at Cyfarthfa (father of the Thomas Evans whose brewery has been mentioned), there was not another right away up to the gatehouse of the Turnpike on the right hand side, but there were dwellings on the other (the left) side all the way, and persons who resided there who should be mentioned.
Before doing so, however, it may be proper to state what kind of scientific society met at the Dynevor Arms, and what was then called philosophical instruments, made by W. and S. Jones, of High Holborn, kept there in the meeting room. Amongst other things attempted was the formation of a duck, which it was reputed they nearly accomplished, but extravagancies aside I can from recollection say there were very good instruments there, one being a telescope of about five inches in diameter.
Notwithstanding much that was desirable for sanitary conditions, there was a good deal of intellectual activity, and if any exceeding strong temperance advocates, deride the statement he can be told of a somewhat analogous one held near Birmingham that was frequented by persons whose names are world known, to wit, James Watt, Priestley and the time of meeting as near as may be to others whose forethought went so far as to have the time of meeting as near as may be to full moon, and were called in consequence the Lunar Society. There are few of any offices that that do not today benefit from one or two of their meetings.
On the left, the corner house of the Aberdare and Nantygwenith Roads, a grocer’s shop was opened by Mr Beddoe, next was a “gin shop”, so called, subsequently kept by Mr Lewis Lewis, superintendent of the Dowlais Stables previously, and afterwards of Pontyrhun; a few cottages followed and then a road. It was up this, and on the first opening to the left the Rev David John, the Unitarian Minister, taught his pupils. He was, I think, a good Welsh scholar, but I am certain of him being a good mathematician. He Had three sons and one daughter, the eldest Mathew, some years after carrying on the iron foundry business in Bryant’s old brewery premises.
The upper corner of this road was the grocery establishment of a Mr Edward Roach. He was a fine powerful man, and they used to say that seeing a woman, with a child in her arms, pursued by a bull, he rushed out and boldly attacked it.
Next above was the Patriot Inn, kept by Mr William Howells. He had two daughters, the youngest of whom was wooed by Mr William Spiller, then travelling around the hills selling flour on behalf of himself and a Mr Browne. The flour was called “Spiller and Browne”. The latter name seems to have passed, but the former has developed into a ‘household word’ in the quality of their product, and extension of business at Cardiff. The firm Spiller and Browne was then at Bridgwater.
To be continued at a later date……
Merthyr Memories: Iron Lane, Georgetown
by Tudor Jones
Although it is almost 60 years since I moved away from Iron Lane, memories remain fresh in my mind.
In many ways it was a typical Welsh working class community replicated in Merthyr and throughout the whole of Wales. I lived at Number 29 with my parents and grandmother. These are personal memories. I am certain that others who lived in Iron Lane would remember other facets of the community. I will divide my memories into three sections – the house, the street and the people.
The house was part of a terrace of cottages. It consisted of a two up, two down with a ‘lean-to’ at the back. None of the modern conveniences were in the house – no indoor toilet, bathroom, piped hot water etc, so when I was old enough to realise, I knew that the area was ‘slum clearance’.
To enter the house, there was a large step going into the front room – ‘the best room’ for special visitors, with heavy Victorian furniture. This led to the next room – for eating, television and radio. Stone stairs led upstairs where a walk through bedroom led to another bedroom.
At the back downstairs was the ‘lean-to’ – for cooking, washing, food storage, plus one sink the ‘bosh’ with an electric water heater. This led to the garden – a path dividing raised sections. I remember having my part to grow flowers. There were tulips, chrysanthemums, bluebells etc. At the top right was the ‘coal cwtch’ with an asbestos roof with ‘snow on the mountain’ covering it. On the left a non-flush toilet – cool in the summer, freezing in the winter. To modern readers it seems an age away.
However, Iron Lane was a close community supporting each other in time of need. The street was parallel to the present day Nantygwenith Street. It was bisected by Howell Street. Iron Lane was a long street with the Georgetown Schools at the top and George Street at the bottom. At the top was a small factory belonging to ‘Dai the Up’ – an upholstery business. Leading off Iron Lane were some courts. Next door but two to Number 29 was Chandler’s Court, with a few houses leading to a small shop – Dai Chandler’s, and Nantygwenith Street. None of the houses had modern day conveniences.
I remember a few events in the street. In 1955, a group of children marching and singing:
“Vote, vote, vote for S. O. Davies.
He is the bestest of them all.”
Later on I remember a fight int he street. A highlight (pardon the pun) was a fire in the top part of Dai the Up’s business.
Georgetown was convenient was convenient for town, but it also had its own schools, pubs, shops, chapels, a club, a ‘community centre’, fish shop and small factories. It was indeed a living community.
The people in Iron Lane I remember vividly. Next door were Uncle Willy and Auntie Maggie (not relations), an elderly childless couple. Auntie Maggie took me once to a service in Bethel Chapel on a Sunday morning. Next to them, Mr & Mrs Phillips and their daughter Beryl – so the names go on – Cloakley’s, Chamberlain’s, Twose, Coleman’s, Richards’. It was a working class community with the men (and some women) working in factories, in the pit or for the council. Of course there were no cars or phones. We children played in the street, or on the tip, or on a field by Chapel Row. We all went to local schools – Georgetown Infants, Abermorlais Junior and then in my case to Cyfarthfa.
I continued visiting Iron Lane as my grandmother was still living there until 1975 when she passed away. As time went on and people died or moved away, the houses were boarded up. My last visit was in the late 1970’s when there were just a few people left until the bulldozers came to destroy what was once a living, breathing society.