On
Sunday July 9th, 2000, Debbie, myself and Lesley Ann visited the Lewis Merthyr
Colliery at Trehafod, in the Rhondda. It is now a museum that will never
allow the memory of what the colliers and their families went through, fade
away. If ever you are in the area, then this
museum is worth a visit. The audio/visual sequences are professionally put
together, showing experiences that not only the miners, but whole communities
lived. At the start of our tour we were greeted by an ex-miner of the colliery
by the name of Graham. He, like the rest of the workforce has been successful
in changing his career, (for the better), from coal digger to tourist guide.
We started the tour with a 15 minute audio visual sequence in the Bertie
engine house, about the history of coal, what the conditions were like and
some of the problems that the community faced. There was a wonderful piece
about A.J.Cook, who found a life purpose in the miners union, the South
Wales Miners Federation. More than any other single person he symbolises
the immediate hopes and the spiritual defiance , even in defeat, of the
Rhondda. He became General Secretary of the Miners Federation of Great Britain
from 1924. During the general strike of 1926, Cook addressed vast crowds
of men and women up and down the length of Britain. From Durham to Nottingham,
from Fife to Lancashire, from Barnsley to Bettws. Crowds would wait for
hours in the cold and rain to be lifted by his words and by his very presence.
His friend and protégé, Arthur Horner, said of him that Arthur Cook held
those multitudes because he did not speak to the people but, spoke for them.
Whilst the video goes on to show other sequences of the time, there is also
the sound of the traditional male Welsh voice choir singing in the background.
The lights come back on and we are guided on to the next part of the tour,
the pithead and are shown the workings of how the miners were transported
to the coalface. The two pitheads at the Lewis Merthyr Colliery, called
Bertie and Trevor after the owners two sons. The 'cage' which transported
the miners and their equipment below ground was a bleak looking affair.
 The
miners would congregate inside, packed together like sardines. Men and boys,
some as young as twelve, or even perhaps younger. Fathers and sons, side
by side. The cage would make its descent at an appalling rate of thirty
feet per second. Gravity pulls you down at thirty two feet per second, so
you can imagine that these men were travelling into total darkness at almost
the point where you become weightless. We were huddled into a similar cage,
but remember, this is a museum. We descend into darkness at a leisurely
speed for what seems a couple of minutes. The doors are opened and, we appear
to be underground at the entrance of a tunnel. All electric lighting showing
the way. A far cry from the days when the only light was a miners lamp.
We were also guided through tunnels which you were able to stand up and
walk through, again the real thing would have been more like a three foot
high ceiling which you would lay down on your stomach and hack away at the
coal as best you could. Although the tunnels we were taken through were
propped up by steel, our guide Graham told us that originally wooden supports
were used. He said that most miners preferred the wood to the steel. "Why?"
we asked. His reply was, "Because the wood would talk to you!" He went on
to explain that because wood was plyable and had a certain amount of 'give'
in it, it acted as a warning if there was likely to be a roof collapse,
thus giving the miners time to escape. Steel on the other hand was more
likely to hold the weight until the strain was too great, and, without warning
would snap allowing the roof to cave in on top of everyone. We continued
on our long and winding route, through doors in the tunnels. There had to
be a sealed door every so many yards for the ventilation shafts to work
properly. In the early days of coal mining, young lads would wait behind
the doors in total darkness. When a miner would want to pass through, the
lads job was to shut the door after him. The only light he would see down
the pit was when a miner passed through. After so much time spent in total
darkness, the lads would go blind at an early age. It is so hard to imagine
how we could have let things like this happen, but it was a different world
then. We must never forget the efforts that our forefathers made so that
we could have a better life today. As we made our way on through the tunnels
and doors we eventually arrive at a platform which contains a row of mock
up drams. It's audio visual time again, and you are required to take a seat
in one of the modified drams. There is a film screen up front, and you take
a virtual reality ride as if you were a collier at the end of his shift
 making
his way back to the entrance. The effects are superb as the little cars
are fitted with hydraulics which are sequenced to bump up and down with
the film playing in front of you. After about 5 minutes you arrive back
safely at the pitheads. The Rhondda Heritage Centre certainly is a value
for money experience. Whilst not making light of the dark days some of our
ancestors went through to eek out a living at the coal face, it does give
you the opportunity of seeing what some of the conditions that they toiled
in were like. If you have never ventured below ground before, then this
just might be the place to try. |