1930s
In the industrial South Wales Valleys, trees had been stripped from the mountains over centuries to burn in the iron furnaces or prop up miles of tunnels beneath the ground. Smoke from the iron forges and tin works, lay heavy in the air, suppressed by layers of smoke and fumes from the day before and the day before. Smells from industrial waste and sewage lingered in the nostrils of poorly clad people trying to avoid queuing for the feeding stations of the Depression.
The river flowed black with coal dust from the washeries, and sewage.
Industrial waste was dumped, if not in the river, then as close as possible to its place of origin, on any unused land. The outline of these huge mounds mirrored the glorious mountains they were fouling, and blocked out the view from small cottages and farms.
In winter, snow turned everything white for a mere minute or two before being covered in a layer of coal dust from the mines, and soot from the many house fires.
Women, after working hard with a rubbing board and soap on the week's laundry, often found it soiled on the washing line.
1700s
According to Edmund Jones, born 1702, the Minister of Tyllwyn Congregational from 1739 to 1779, quoted by Arthur Gray-Jones in his book Eve of the Industrial Revolution 1779
... was a pleasant, remote, well-wooded upland valley. There were good pastures on the hillsides and cornfields along the bottom of the valley, but the valley was not very fertile, especially at its northern end where the soil was thin and the land poor and barren. There was no village or hamlet, merely scattered whitewashed farms and cottages in a beautiful setting.
Every house had its clear wholesome springs of water and delightful prospects of hills and mountains, and an abundance of flat stones for tiling the roofs and flooring the kitchens and making pathways and plenty of coal for firing.
Who, he asked, would exchange a dwelling here for one in any other part of England or Wales?
Air was wholesome and inhabitants healthy and the climate a temperate one, though it was certainly colder on the hillsides and in the north of the district than in the sheltered valleys.
In the industrial South Wales Valleys, trees had been stripped from the mountains over centuries to burn in the iron furnaces or prop up miles of tunnels beneath the ground. Smoke from the iron forges and tin works, lay heavy in the air, suppressed by layers of smoke and fumes from the day before and the day before. Smells from industrial waste and sewage lingered in the nostrils of poorly clad people trying to avoid queuing for the feeding stations of the Depression. The river flowed black with coal dust from the washeries, and sewage.
Industrial waste was dumped, if not in the river, then as close as possible to its place of origin, on any unused land. The outline of these huge mounds mirrored the glorious mountains they were fouling, and blocked out the view from small cottages and farms.
In winter, snow turned everything white for a mere minute or two before being covered in a layer of coal dust from the mines, and soot from the many house fires.
Women, after working hard with a rubbing board and soap on the week's laundry, often found it soiled on the washing line.
BUT TOWNS HADN'T ALWAYS LOOKED LIKE THAT !
1700s
According to Edmund Jones, born 1702, the Minister of Tyllwyn Congregational from 1739 to 1779, quoted by Arthur Gray-Jones in his book Eve of the Industrial Revolution 1779
... was a pleasant, remote, well-wooded upland valley. There were good pastures on the hillsides and cornfields along the bottom of the valley, but the valley was not very fertile, especially at its northern end where the soil was thin and the land poor and barren. There was no village or hamlet, merely scattered whitewashed farms and cottages in a beautiful setting.
Every house had its clear wholesome springs of water and delightful prospects of hills and mountains, and an abundance of flat stones for tiling the roofs and flooring the kitchens and making pathways and plenty of coal for firing.
Who, he asked, would exchange a dwelling here for one in any other part of England or Wales?
Air was wholesome and inhabitants healthy and the climate a temperate one, though it was certainly colder on the hillsides and in the north of the district than in the sheltered valleys.
TODAY !
2013
Today the clamour of the great industries of iron, steel, coal, copper and tinplate have ceased, replaced by a new-found identity. Tips have been removed and hillsides landscaped. Trees are returning to the hillsides.
Historians and tourists still seek out evidence of our industrial heritage, but the natural greenery has returned with abundance, with the help of volunteers and local governments. Nature is healing many scars. Rows of cottages as quaint as any Cornish village can be seen on the hillsides, but without Cornwall's clamour of summer traffic jams clogging the narrow streets.
Local people banter with each other and are always willing to help a stranger with directions, or to pass the time of day.
Positioned on the path of the Gulf Stream, valley towns have a mild (if rather damp), climate, creating lush vegetation. Plant enthusiasts find wonderful wild flowers and garden species. In spring, magnolias thrive in a garden in nearly every street. Kerbside primroses and daffodils add to the spectacular scenery of mountains all around.
Many towns have a weekly market, as well as 'out of town' shopping, often wtih free parking and places to eat.
SO!
2014/5
If you haven't already done so, perhaps you will find the time and opportunity to pay us a visit. I'd love to hear from you.
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