Early roads and transportation on Gower

The Gower Peninsula's main roads were not tarred over until after World War I. Most of its roads were little more than dirt tracks, in fact. The few roads that were surfaced prior to this time, were covered with a loose layer of crushed limestone. These roads were often so treacherous to negotiate, that even in the early 1900s, Gower's inhabitants rarely ventured away from the peninsula. Diaries and other archival sources from the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, illustrated the trepidation with which Gowerians viewed 'foreign' travel. If a Gower farmer was due to travel to London, or some other distant corner of the country, the journey was deemed so treacherous, and his likelihood of safe return so negligible, he would make his will and hold a final farewell supper for family and friends. When the farmer returned, a similar celebratory feast was held, to hail his safe return.

Gower roads were so rough and perilous, wheeled carts were not in general use until after 1830. This fact is quite staggering, when you place it in perspective. It is believed the first crude, wheeled vehicle was invented around 8,000 B.C. in Asia. But the oldest surviving wheel was discovered in Mesopotamia, and is believed to hail from around 3,500 B.C. These crude wheels were improved upon by the Egyptians, around 2,000 BC, and later, the Greeks. The advent of more modern-looking two and four-wheeled vehicles is attributed to the Romans. Yet in 1830, Gower farmers still relied on their packhorses, and transported their wares on primitives sleds or slide-cars. Wheeled vehicles were considered too costly and troublesome, as the rough roads would soon break an axle or wheel, and isolated Gower had no wheelwrights who could repair such vehicles.

The nineteenth century Gower road map bore little resemblance to the Ordinance Survey map of today. Instead of main arteries such as the North and South roads, the Penclawdd to Llanrhidian road, and the Bishopston/Pennard route, there was an extensive network of lanes and tracks. This network linked every village and farm, and many of these roads, although overgrown, still remain, often serving as public rights of way. Some of these routes were circuitous. Interestingly, one such route commenced at a ford near Fairy Hill, which is now a bridge. This route travelled north of Reynoldston, over Cefn Bryn itself, before descending to Penmaen, and all the way down to the stepping stones over Pennard Pill, leading to Three Cliffs Bay.

The Penclawdd to Llanrhidian road was laid in the 1920s, as a replacement for the winding, narrow, flood-prone road through the marshes. Prior to the First World War, life moved at a slower pace, and locals saw no great hardship in waiting for high tide to subside, before continuing their journey through the marsh. Those who chose not to wait, would drive their horse-drawn carts on through chest-high water, their carts often half-afloat. To ensure these impatient and reckless locals did not meet their ends in the deep gullies and ditches either side of the submerged road, the local council of the time installed stout wooden posts, which were visible above water level. The remains of these posts can still be seen today.

As mentioned earlier, many of Gower's roads were covered with crushed limestone. This made travel a very messy affair, thanks to the clouds of white dust hurled up by the passage of hooves and wheels. The exception to this was the unsurfaced road traversing the red sandstone ridge of Cefn Bryn. A journey over the Bryn would throw up clouds of red dust, and the road was known locally as the Red Road. On the limestone roads, when two or more vehicles went by in quick succession, other road users could not make out the road ahead, due to the massive white dust cloud thrown up. The photograph below was taken in Llanrhidian around 1932, from a spot just above the Welcome to Town. Although it looks a little like a snowscape, it shows an old, limed road.


The late 19th century saw the arrival of public transport on Gower, in the form of a horse-drawn bus. Despite seeming somewhat crude by modern standards, the horse-bus revolutionised travel on the Gower Peninsula. Prior to its advent, a trip into town from Gower's remoter parts was often a two day affair. Visiting artist, William Simmonds (1876 -1968), was given the following account, by a blacksmith at Llanmadoc, sometime in 1926:

"The old lady who used to live in the first little house along there I've heard say that she used to go into Swansea one day and come back the next - she'd start in the morning and take all day getting there and start back late at night and get home the next day".

There were three return horse-bus journeys a week from Port Eynon to Swansea, with the outward journey taking around four hours. The bus left Port Eynon at 5am and reached Swansea some time between 9 and 10am. It often carried not just passengers, but livestock too, on its way to be sold at market. The return journey was a much slower affair. The bus left Swansea anytime between 4 and 5pm, depending on when everyone had completed their buying and selling for the day. It would set out, its interior piled high to the roof, with both passengers and their purchases. It would stop at every tavern along the way, and would eventually arrive back in Port Eynon between 10pm and midnight that night. Most of the passengers on the bus would only undergo this journey three or four times a year, which was why the bus was always piled so high on its return journey, and why each trip was such an adventure.

The Taylor family ran a horse bus service from Llangennith to Swansea between 1896 and 1910. The first bus was in fact a converted farm wagon, and it made one journey a week, on Saturdays. Many farmers could not spare time to travel to market. So it was a common occurrence for them to load their produce or livestock onto the bus, for the driver to sell at market, on their behalf. C.D. Morgan gave a hair-raising account of a journey on the horse bus, this version of it appearing in "Gower Fact and Fable" by Roger Jones.

"There is no man on earth can go down hill like a Gowerian. I have driven thousands of miles and seen many crack 'whips' but I'll back our Gower champion against the world, and I should like to sit beside him once more on the box seat of the bus for another ride in the old fashioned racing style.

Talk about the Jockey Club and their four-in-hand thoroughbreds, they would not have been in it. When my friend gave his horses 'sheet' they seemed to fly. 20 miles an hour did not represent the pace. The steeds went straight as arrows and the wheels of the heavily laden bus revolved so fast the spokes appeared as threads.

One ride I shall never forget. The bus was full and just as we turned the crest of the hill the driver gave the horses "sheet" and they went hell for leather. They gathered speed down the hill. No stopping them now, the weight was too great, and the thing was could they keep ahead of the vehicle.

Planting his feet firmly on the footboard and holding the reins tight the driver let the horses go. The inside passengers were screaming as the bus suaged round the corners. But we went full stretch and gained the foot of Llethrid Hill in the grandest style man or horse ever did or ever will.

An officer who had been in a cavalry regiment sat beside me and the driver on this ride and when we dismounted to walk up the hill he was pale as a sheet and frankly told me he had ridden many a cavalry charge but he never felt such a sensation as he did coming down that hill".


Motor buses eventually took over the old horse-bus routes, around 1906. Apparently, on the early motor bus journeys from Rhossili, it was commonplace for passengers to get out and help push the bus or assist with repairs.

But travellers' woes did not end with the advent of the motor bus. Gower's early motor buses were bulky, as they had purpose built bodies, which facilitated the transportation of livestock and produce, as well as passengers. The bus's arrival was heralded not by a distant glimpse or the sound of the engine approaching, but by the huge dust cloud. Most passengers sat on the open, upper deck, and as well as getting coated in white limestone dust, they frequently had to duck overhanging tree branches. Furthermore, the early motor buses had non-existent suspension, solid tyres and rock hard seats. So those brave enough to venture into town, arrived caked in dust, with leaves and twigs adhering to their hair and clothing, and multiple bruises into the bargain. Even nowadays, a bus trip to Gower can be an eventful and bumpy ride, due to its tortuous lanes, and ever-increasing traffic levels. But early public transport users must have needed cast-iron constitutions to even contemplate, yet alone undertake, the arduous journey into town and back.

Spring-heeled Jack on Gower

Introduction

Horatio Tucker was the first local historian to revive the memory of Spring-heeled Jack's activities on the Gower Peninsula, in fairly recent times. He recounted how an other-worldly apparition terrorised the inhabitants of Port Eynon and Overton, in his 1951 book, Gower Gleanings. The Gower Society investigated a little further, and Clifford Bevan gave the results of his findings in 'Spring-heeled Jack': A Nineteenth-century Gower Phenomenon. The article appeared in Volume 52 of the Gower Journal, published in 2001.

General Background

The Spring-heeled Jack phenomenon first manifested in London in the 1830s. Many theories were expounded as to Jack’s origins. Some believed he was an unearthly beast, others suggested he was from another planet, and others still thought he was the devil himself. More pragmatic Londoners suggested he was a man in a costume, carrying some kind of new-fangled, concealed apparatus which allowed him to leap great distances. He almost sounded like an evil, nineteenth century forerunner of James Bond.

Jack was described as tall, slender, and powerfully built, always clad in a black cloak. He was reputedly able to leap vertically in the air, as high as twenty or thirty feet, vaulting high walls, hedges and railings. Witnesses claimed the apparition possessed huge, pointy ears, and red, glowing eyes. He also reportedly spat blue-white flames at his victims.

His first attack was in Lavender Hill, south east London, in October 1837. He vaulted three metre high railings, and attacked a group of people, before conducting an act best described as an indecent assault. Jack tore the blouse off a woman in the group, and intimately fondled her. Another female victim claimed he kissed and fondled her, suggesting a rather more earthly motivation for his attacks, than a supernatural one. Spring-heeled Jack became notorious as his attacks increased, with rumours abounding that yet another woman had been blinded by the blue-white flames he spat at her. When he attacked a woman at Clapham, he left ground evidence which suggested he was using some kind of sprung apparatus to carry out his leaps.

At the start of 1838, Jack was declared a public menace by London’s Lord Mayor. A band of men formed to hunt him down, amongst their number an ageing Duke of Wellington. However, Jack eluded them and continued to terrorise women until 1843.

In 1845, he resurfaced across the Atlantic, in New York City. He leapt at a prostitute, as she solicited for business on a bridge, breathing blue-white flames at her. She was so terrified, she leapt off the bridge to her death.

After the New York incident, Spring-heeled Jack retired for several years, until his re-emergence in 1877. He terrorised London yet again, before moving on to Aldershot camp, where he attacked a young soldier with his fiery breath. He moved on to Lincolnshire, and then made an appearance in Birmingham in 1879. All sightings of Jack were documented in the national, as well as local press.

Spring-heeled Jack arrives on Gower

Spring-heeled Jack arrived on Gower, late one autumn in the 1880s. Clifford Bevan, in his nineties at the time the article was published, relates how Jack made his debut one night when the moon was bright. Two farm lads at Overton Farm were the first to spot the fearsome figure. At the end of a hard day’s toil, the lads were no doubt cold, tired and hungry. As they stood at the bottom of a steep field, they looked up onto the field’s uppermost level, and saw a ghastly, black-cloaked apparition looming.

The countryside can seem most eerie when bathed in blue-white moonlight. Shapes innocent by day, distort into fanciful and terrifying creatures. Shadows of tiny objects take on huge and fearful proportions. Trees and bushes hold unknown terrors, as their skyward branches become the rapacious claws of crazed witches. Overton would have had no road lighting in the 1880s, or bright, electric house lights either, adding to the macabre and sinister illusion.

Rather than confront the unearthly apparition silhouetted atop the hill, the farm hands sped home, convinced Spring-heeled Jack was springing at their own heels. When they reached the farmhouse, they sought sanctuary in the ingle nook of the hearth, quaking with terror and refusing to emerge until daylight.

Their initial sighting triggered a whole spate of similar apparitions. High vantage points around Port Eynon and Overton, became Jack's theatre stages, where he performed to an aghast audience . His terrified witnesses watched as he leapt wildly over gates, hedges and other such constructions. So fearful was his performance, that women would not venture out at night, and some of the local farmers began searching for him, armed with shotguns.

However, Clifford Bevan's own father put an end to Jack’s reign of terror. Spotting the fiend one night, the elder Mr. Bevan chased him into a field. During a brief altercation, he discovered Jack to be no monster, but a local wag having some fun. Jack's fearsome black form was an illusion created with the aid of a stout oilskin coat and sou'wester. Not wishing to be exposed, 'Jack' threatened to beat his adversary with a heavy iron plough trace. To avoid the risk of serious injury or death, Mr. Bevan agreed not to expose him, but insisted he gave up his campaign of terror. 'Jack' agreed, and no more was seen of the monster on the Gower Peninsula.

News spread quickly across the peninsula, that the fearless Mr. Bevan had vanquished the monster. His victory was so celebrated that he found himself mobbed in the centre of Swansea, by unwitting Gower folk, who were relieved at Jack's demise.

When I first read Clifford Bevan’s article, I was a little disappointed, having searched for it for a long time. It was short, and there was no real phenomenon after all, just a prankster in a long coat. But disappointment soon turned to delight.

This little anecdote sheds an interesting light on the character of yesteryear's Gower. Life was very tough by today's standards, with many people, men, women and children, turning in twelve hour days, often longer, six or seven days a week. No wonder these people also chose to play hard. It was also a time when money was scarce, so many bargains were struck, e.g. "let me plant my potatoes in your field and I'll give you a sack or two in return". The bargain struck between Mr. Bevan and 'Jack' worked to both their advantages. 'Jack' went unpunished for his mischief, his identity remaining secret, and Mr. Bevan was hailed a hero for routing him.

Common sense dictates that the legend of Spring-heeled Jack is just a myth. The initial sightings suggest he was an unscrupulous prankster with a tendency towards sexual deviance. Coincidentally, he made his appearance at a time when pulp fiction, in a form known as the penny dreadful, made popular reading. These publications featured such unearthly and fearsome characters as Varney the Vampire and the Blue Dwarf, as well as Spring-heeled Jack himself. The popular fiction of the day would have acted as great PR for the man or men behind the legend of Spring-heeled Jack. Who knows, he or they may even have been inspired by such fictional tales. Whatever the truth of the situation, the culprit or culprits must have enjoyed many a laugh at the expense of terrified citizens. However, all it took on Gower, was a fearless and pragmatic farmer, to confront and unmask the local culprit as an ordinary man, and a cowardly one at that.

Reference

Clifford Bevan 'Spring-heeled Jack': A Nineteenth-century Gower Phenomenon. Gower Journal, vol. 52, 2001.

Swansea Borough Police

The earliest historical record of a police officer in Swansea, is dated 1402. The position was held by an individual called Thomas Somer , who was also the local gaol keeper.  His salary was twopence a day. Records suggest that Mr. Somer was hard-working, and took his law enforcement duties seriously. In that respect, he was somewhat of an anomaly. The arduous, time-consuming role of Constable was not especially popular. It was not uncommon, if the appointed Constable was a man of means, for him to delegate his duties to someone else, in return for a small stipend. Many such unofficial "deputies" proved unfit for the job, as they were  often elderly men, who could not readily obtain any other employment.  Understandably, they were unable to break up disorderly situations or arrest dangerous criminals. As a result, they failed to gain the respect of the townspeople. To make matters worse, citizens declined to help the Constable when things got rough, despite being under a legal obligation to do so.  During the reign of the Saxon king, Alfred, the freemen of Swansea had pledged an oath to aid the detection and punishment of law-breakers.

As the population of Swansea increased, so did the level of disorderly conduct. By the sixteenth century, hardly anyone sought the position of Constable, as the job had become so difficult.

The growing lawlessness of the city was compounded by the fact that many of those prepared to work as Constables, often did so as a means of concealing their own criminal activities, or in order to extort bribes. However, despite Swansea becoming an increasingly lawless town, with no proper system of law enforcement in place, no-one considered the establishment of a professional police force.

The late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries saw the law and order situation become even more desperate in Swansea. The Industrial Revolution sparked a mass influx of outsiders to the area. There were often more job seekers than jobs, so poverty and social unrest led to increasing lawlessness. So it is surprising, in retrospect, that the first paid police officer, did not appear on the streets of Swansea until November 8th, 1821, in the form of Constable John Luce (below).

 

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© South Wales Police

However, records describe him as a "constable with authority to seize all beasts or swine wandering in the town and to impound them in the common pound."  His main duties appeared to be rounding up stray animals, and dealing with the town's growing population of beggars, rather  than pursuing criminals.

Despite the appointment of Luce in 1821, a professional police force, dedicated to maintaining law and order, was not established until some fifteen years later. The Municipal Corporations Act 1835 established three borough police forces, in Cardiff, Neath and Swansea. Swansea Borough Police Force was formed in 1836. By 1852, Henry Tate, the acting inspector, found himself in charge of two sergeants, two detective officers and sixteen constables. Swansea Borough Police Force, like its Neath and Cardiff counterparts, was administered separately from the Glamorgan Police Force. In 1969, it merged with the Glamorgan, Cardiff and Merthyr forces, to form the South Wales Constabulary, which in turn, became South Wales Police, in 1995.

However, the new police forces had their teething problems, including the inclusion of unscrupulous officers in its ranks. The following excerpts from the 1859 diary of Swansea police officer, PC 207 Lewis Jones, of Gorseinon, and the somewhat differing accounts of his superiors, illustrate this.

 

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© South Wales Police

PC Jones's diary paints a picture of a hard working, honourable officer. Take for instance his entry for November 9th, 1859:

"......returned to station at 6 and a half pm. All correct. Sergeant Mathias visited Station at 9pm. Also on duty at 10pm at Forestfach. Off duty at 2am."

However, on November 12th, 1859, his Superintendent sent the following communication to the Chief Constable:

"I beg leave to report PC 207 Lewis Jones with obtaining 10/- from Mr William Matthews of Mynydd Llew, near Loughor, as a reward for the recovery of a strayed horse, which Mr Matthews had lost from his field. Mr Matthews states that PC Jones demanded the first time 20/-, then afterwards 10/- which was given him about 6 months ago. The last time PC Jones called on him he stated that Sergeant Mathias had sent him for the money, and that he was bound to have it at once. When Sergeant Mathias found this he asked PC Jones, who denied all knowledge of this affair, but now he admits receiving 10/- of his own free will. Sergeant Mathias also reports PC Jones with neglect of duty being in bed at 9.30am on the 9th instant. I beg to recommend that PC Jones shall repay the 10/- and that he be severely fined or dismissed."

Shortly afterwards, PC Jones handed in his notice. But there was a further incident as he was working his notice.

On December 6th, 1859, PC Jones made the following entry in his diary:

"PC 207 on duty at 2 and a half pm at Gorseinon Fair. Off duty at 10pm. No reports."

On December 8th, 1859, his Superintendent once again contacted the Chief Constable, with a somewhat different account of PC Jones's activities on the night of December 6th:

"I beg leave to report that William Morgan, of Morriston, publican and harper (a blind man), has obtained an assault summons against PC 207 Lewis Jones for assaulting him at Gorseinon Fair on Tuesday night last between the hours of 11 and 12 pm. The case is to come on for hearing on Saturday next at Swansea police court. Morgan states the only provocation he gave to PC Jones was to advise a friend of his not to fight after PC Jones had made a ring for them to fight, and merely remarked that it was not the duty of a police officer to encourage parties to fight. PC then caught him by the neck, tried to throw him down and then struck him with his truncheon, which cut his ear through and cannot hear with it ever since.

PC Jones states that it is not true that he made the ring for the men to fight and that it was Morgan who made the ring and pushed PC back, several times, when he tried to stop the fighting, and then he struck him with his truncheon. PC Jones' month's notice will be up on the 14th instant. I have ordered him to bring in his clothing on Saturday next, after the hearing of the charge."

However, despite being dismissed by Swansea Borough Police, PC Jones was employed as a constable yet again, in 1866, by Neath Borough Police. It is thought that he was able to become a police officer again, due to a desperate recruitment shortage. So despite the establishment of professional police forces throughout South Wales in the 1830's, it seems that the old, corrupt practices of earlier times, had yet to be fully  stamped out.

 

With thanks to the South Wales Police Museum and Archives Network Wales.

"French" air-raid on Swansea

Most Swansea natives are surely aware of the terrible destruction and loss of life that occurred in the town, during the Second World War. But how many people are actually aware that a French aircraft carried out a vicious day-time attack on the docks area? I certainly knew nothing of this, until I came across Elaine Kidwell's account of such an incident.

Mrs. Kidwell, or Elaine Griffiths as she was in those days, worked as an Assistant Librarian in the Royal Institution, now Swansea Museum. She was also a Civil Defence volunteer in the ARP, a role she undertook at the tender age of seventeen. Here is her account of the "French" air raid.

One afternoon, in the Museum, I heard a lot of noise coming from the docks area, and saw a small French plane diving down very low over the docks. To my horror I saw him machine-gunning dockers, civilians, anything and anybody. We couldn’t believe that a French plane could do that to us. It was not long after Dunkirk and the Germans had captured the plane from the French and we had had no warning at all. I rushed across to the old men who always sat around the steps of the Museum to get them under cover, but they assured me, that it was “nothing to do with them, and they would sit and just watch”. I rushed back into the Museum and asked our local Archaeologist, Mrs. Audrey Williams, to take over my desk as I had to go. I ran over to our Post and our Head Warden was telephoning for help and swearing and yelling at me, that we had no red warning, not even an Amber warning!! Then we ran up Pier Street and across to Quay Parade to help the lone policeman there to sort out the casualties as they came streaming off the dock. Anything that was about, was commandeered to take the people to hospital. The hospital in those days was in St. Helen’s Road and most went there. Some the policeman directed to the Mortuary in the Strand. My mother came along with an armful of towels and we all did the best we could. The French air-craft had disappeared by this time. It got “clean away”.

With thanks to Elaine Kidwell, WW2 People's War.

WW2 People's War is an online archive of wartime memories contributed by members of the public and gathered by the BBC. The archive can be found at bbc.co.uk/ww2peopleswar.

Welcome to A History of Swansea

I decided to start a blog consisting of historical articles about Swansea and Gower, because I'm so disappointed at the dearth of dedicated, online local history resources. The ones I've seen are of variable quality, and are usually the labours of love of private individuals.

So with such frustrations in mind, I've decided compile a local history blog, which will be free to access, and entirely non-profit in its philosophy, i.e. no Google ads or similar. The most extensive local history site currently available, charges a membership fee to access its information. This, I feel, is wrong, as information about our heritage and our past should be freely available. To make my job as editor easier, I've chosen the blog format. Updates will be simple, there will be no website to maintain, and no hosting fees to worry about. I can then focus my time on producing hopefully high quality, and completely free, local history articles.

I won't be updating more than once a week, and the articles will not be in chronological order. You may get an article on prehistory one day, and one about wartime Swansea the next. But I'll be making use of Blogger's labels facility, to link all similar-themed articles together, and make information easier for you to find. Please be patient with me whilst I prepare articles, as they will be quite time-consuming to prepare. If anyone fancies collaborating with me occasionally, even if it is simply to suggest a theme for an article, please feel free to get in touch. Although this project will take time to build, I hope it will eventually be a valuable resource to the local community.