Walking in my Great Grandfather’s Footsteps

I am a person who longs for a sense of meaning and connectedness — to feel I am part of an unbroken chain of ancestors whose character and DNA form part of my own. As I walked the streets of Ystradgynlais — the area I learned was my ancestral home —  I felt that connection.  I pictured children in the 1800s playing, mothers calling for them, and fathers clanking their lunch boxes as they strode home from the mines or the iron works. And I imagined young men like my great grandfather, Herbert James, dreaming of adventure and a new life in America.  Actually visiting Ystradgynlais was a spiritual experience I will never forget.

When the sign for Ystradgynlais came into view, I jumped out of the car to take a photo.  Luckily it was without incident, since I never really got into the habit of looking right, then left for traffic.  Noel also chuckled every time I tried to open the driver’s side door instead of the passenger door, which was almost every time I got into the car!

We immediately headed for the ruins of the Ynyscedwyn Iron Works, where George Crane and David Thomas successfully smelted iron ore with anthracite coal.  Evidence shows iron ore was smelted on this site since the 1600s.

What a thrill to see this plaque, which specifically mentions the Lehigh Valley, where Catasauqua is located, and where I grew up. It doesn’t seem to be very well preserved, but exciting just the same.

I settled in at my Air B&B, which happened to be next to St. Cynog's Church (CUH-nog) so I took a stroll over.  I never heard of St. Cynog, but it seems he was a Welsh saint and martyr, born in 434.  I guess he never made it to the big time.  It's a pretty little Anglican Church.  From the cemetery records, there are 93 Jameses in there!  I'm likely related to many of them, but figuring that out will be a project for the future.

St. Cynog's Church Hall

Then I walked over to the park next door.  I asked someone what the ring of stones were that look like a mini-Stonehenge, and she told me they were from the Eisteddfod held in Ystradgynlais in 1954.  That's a yearly national festival of Welsh poetry and music.  It moves from South Wales to North Wales each year. The stones play a part in traditional Druid ceremonies.

Other claims to fame for Ystradgynlais:  the former Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams, hails from here; and the opera singer Adelina Patti, who was extremely popular and notably made huge sums for singing during the period of the late 1800s, retired to Craig-y-Nos Castle in Ystradgynlais. 

I arrived on a Sunday and nearly everything was closed -- not at all like our frenetic 24/7 society.  Many little shops make up the "downtown."  We saw larger shopping areas outside of town, but I liked the simple character of the main streets.

One of the collieries was located near the Black Mountain in the distance.  We had James relatives working there or in other collieries in the area.

My research shows we had relatives as young as 14 who worked in the mines.  When I toured the "Big Pit," they said children as young as 5 worked up to 12 hours a day in the dark.

An homage to the Crane Ironworks

The center of town is at the top of the hill, but Caryl said in Herbert's time, it was down at the bottom at the Ynyscedwyn Arms pub.  Ynyscedwyn was the name of the estate owned by the wealthy Gough family.  We stopped for lunch, but they were closed for remodeling.

The river Tawe flows along Ystradgynlais.  The Swansea canal used to transport goods along the river, but it was paved over to become a motorway. 

Before my trip, I posted a question on one of the Ystradgynlais pages on Facebook.  I said I was looking for James relatives I might meet when I'm there.  To my delight, I discovered a third cousin once removed (meaning she is down a level on the tree from me) who lived nearby.  Janette's great, great grandfather was a brother to my great grandfather.  I could trace the lines on my family tree.  We met for dinner and had a lovely evening to get acquainted.  I pointed out how many Jennets, Jeannettes, and now Janettes populate the James family tree.  It's really astounding.  In fact, when I was doing my research I knew I had found the right family because of all the Jennets.  My mother often told me Herbert wanted to name her mother Jennet (or Janet), but the minister in Catasauqua said it was a nickname and she had to be Jeannette.  Obviously he wasn't familiar with Wales!

 That's Janette James Jones, my 3rd cousin (once removed).  I guess she got the "tall" genes I must have missed!

A day to remember

After a rejuvenating sleep, I prepared for the day I most looked forward to -- a visit to the graves of my great, great grandparents and a tour around the area to see where successive generations of the James family lived. It was truly a special day, due, in large part, to the help of Caryl Jones, whose acquaintance I made online through the Ystradgynlais Family Historical Society.  She and I emailed back and forth over the course of the past year.  I’d ask her about various places I saw on the census records, and she interpreted the handwriting and added context to the words on the page.  

Caryl Jones and Me

Caryl keeps the records of St. Cynog's cemetery and parish records for St. Cynog’s Church in Ystradgynlais, and, of course, is native to the area.  That’s how I learned Herbert James’ parents and grandparents, and likely previous generations were buried in the churchyard.  She even sent a CD with photos of all the headstones, their locations, and the text of the inscriptions, so I knew what they looked like before I traveled overseas.  She was wonderful!

We found the graves of my great, great grandparents -- Herbert James' parents-- in a plot near the church.  They were covered in grass and moss, so we spent some time cleaning them up and washing them with water to remove the mud.  As we let them dry, we went in town to purchase a brush at the hardware store.  I think the man who sold it to me called me "love" at least 5 times!  He was very friendly and a pleasure to talk to.  Down the street we bought some flowers for the graves.  Here, again, the woman running the shop was extremely personable and excited to hear why I had traveled to Ystradgynlais.  Everyone I met in the town made me feel very welcome.

Even after our cleaning, the stones were still difficult to read.  I fear the photo doesn't capture it properly.

Inscription (in Welsh):

Er Cof Am

Jennet

Gwraig John James

Metz

Bu Farw Gorph 23 1869 Yn 74 Oed

Hefyd John James Uchod

Fu Farw Ebrill 3 1876 Yn 82 Oed

Hefyd James Gibbs

Fu Farw Tach 23 1902 Yn 67 Oed

Hefyd Mary El Wraig

Fu Farw Rhag 10 1914 Yn 80 Oed

Hefyd Herbert Eu Mab

Fu Farw ...Yn 43 Oed

Translation:

In memory of Jennet

Wife of John James

Metz (meaning they lived at the Metz Cottages)

Who died July 23 1869 at 74 Years Old

Also John James, Above

Who died April 3 1876 at 82 Years Old

Also James Gibbs

Who died November 23 1902 at 67 Years Old

Also Mary his Wife

Who died December 10 1914 at 80 Years Old

Also Herbert their son

Who died ...at 43 Years Old

*Mary was one of John and Jennet's daughters.

I think it's easier to see on the video:

My great, great grandparents' stone is in the middle of three stones (I mispoke on the video and called them my great grandparents). The one on the left is John and Jennet's son William and his family.  I must research the one on the right. 

Two other stones are separated from the others, but also appear to be relatives. More research ahead!

After we cleaned the stones, I took a moment to appreciate the reverence of the experience.  I was imagining John and Jennet James saying goodbye to their son, Herbert, and never seeing him again.  I was thinking of Herbert, who came to America not knowing how to read or write; and his daughter Jeannette, who raised my mother and her 11 siblings. And I was thinking of my mother, Mildred.  I so wish she was still with us so I could tell her the story of her people in Wales.

A Prayer for our Ancestors

My sister Nancy is an Episcopal priest. She couldn't travel with me, but she wrote a beautiful prayer for our ancestors, which I said at the graves.

Finding the family homesteads

Then off we went to visit the James family homesteads.  I had sent Caryl a list of places where the James families had lived.  I found the sites on the census records and from a catalogue of local families Caryl sent me.  I don't know how she found these places, but Caryl mapped out the whole route and knew just where we were going.  Noel did the chauffeuring and Caryl navigated from the back seat. It was wonderful!

Ystradgynlais was actually considered a parish, made up of little hamlets and villages like Cwmtwrch (CUHM-toorch) and Cwmgiedd (CUHM-geeth).  Caryl gave pronunciation lessons from the back seat, but I still need lots of practice!

Tir Morgan Taylor farm

We started at Tir Morgan Taylor, where Herbert’s great, great grandfather and his family lived as tenent farmers in the 1700s, before the coal and iron industries took hold.  This was one of many farms on the Palleg Manor estate (pronunciation lesson to follow!) owned by the wealthy Ystradgynlais Auburn family and later the equally affluent Morgan family.  

My research took me back to 1728, when James ap John (James, son of John) was the first in the family to drop the "ap" used in patronymic naming and give his children the surname James. Usually this was done (perhaps resentfully) to conform to English requirements for records and documents.  

The choice of surnames is quite interesting.  For example, John ap Richard becomes John Pritchard; Owen ap Evan becomes Owen Bevan, and so on. People also took the given name of the father for the surname of the children, as they did in my family.  There are tons of Joneses (for John), Williamses, Thomases and others.  It’s crazy-making when doing genealogy research!

Noel was cool as a cucumber as he drove his rather large van down a winding, one-lane road to the farm.  We held our breath that no one drove toward us from the other direction!

I was surprised how far this farm was from Ystradgynlais proper.  Caryl said it was about 4 miles.  Families certainly had to be self-sufficient at that time because a trip to town must have been rare. Tenents like James and his family paid rent to the manor Lord and lived there at his pleasure.  

Palleg Mill

Now it's time for the pronunciation lesson!  The LL is one letter in the Welsh language, and is probably the hardest for us to say.  Here’s how you do it:  place your tongue as if you are going to say an L, but keep it there and blow air out of the sides of your mouth instead. It’s a tricky one! Try it with the word Palleg!

Wales did not have a census until 1841, and by then John James, great grandson of James ap John, and my great, great grandfather, lived with his family at Palleg Mill, also on the Palleg Manor estate.  I wasn't sure if it was a woolen mill or a grain mill, but it seems to have been the latter.  I discovered this information from historian James Burton:

"A condition of the lease from 1742 and probably a custom prior to this was that all tenants had to grind their corn or oats at Palleg mill and assist in the repair and upkeep of it when summoned for. In 1805 they were all employed to deepen the river Twrch near the mill. They were paid in ale. Repair of the mill is a regular occurrence in the expenditure records, not least the regular millstone replacements, which in the early days were dragged from Swansea on a sledge cart."  https://www.spookspring.com/Palleg/palleg.html

Today it's a private home, with a large addition added to the original mill.  The wheel is no longer there.

Z

Dyfnant (DUV-nahnt)

By the 1851 census, Herbert James was 18 and his family lived in Dyfnant, a row of houses that are quite a distance from Palleg Mill.  It's the last place Herbert lived in Wales before coming to America.  The coal and iron industry employed most men now.  Some men in the James family were colliers; others were carpenters, others worked in the Iron Works.  I'm pretty sure the satellite dish came later.

By now, another change took place in the religion of the Welsh people.  Many left the Anglican church and became "non-conformists." They worshipped in "chapels" instead of churches.  I strongly believe my James ancestors did the same.  The Yorath Chapel, near Dyfnant, was considered Calvinistic Methodist, or Presbyterian.  We stopped and looked around the graveyard, but the stones were very worn and almost impossible to read.  There are quite a few Jameses, however, and I can see there is still more research to do!

Side view of Yorath Chapel with cemetery.

Yniscraigymaen

Well, I never did catch on to the pronunciation of this word!  Caryl says it here on the video:

By the next census, 1861, John and Jennet, ages 65 and 63 and their grandson John James, age 9, lived in the Metz cottages in this area of Cwmgiedd (I think I have that right!  Caryl, correct me if I'm wrong).  The Ship Inn stood nearby on the Swansea canal, but the canal is now a motorway.  Two of their daughters lived in the neighboring houses:  Daughter Mary and husband James Gibbs and their children James, John and Thomas; and daughter Jenet and her husband Hopkin Alexander and sons John and Rees.  They eventually emigrated to Scranton, PA, where Hopkin worked in the mines, but Jenet died in childbirth soon after arriving.

Metz Cottages

Jennet died in 1869, and John lived another 5 years in the Metz cottages with his grandson, John, now 19, and another grandson, William, age 9.

What a day!  I truly walked in my great grandparents' footsteps and got an appreciation for the distances they traveled and the humble lives they led.  I accomplished everything I had hoped for when I planned this trip.

Caryl, Noel and I celebrated with a late lunch at the Tik-Tok.  Caryl says it used to be a clock factory, but that closed some time ago.  I enjoyed my fish and chips, but I stayed away from the "mushy peas" Noel said were delicious.  Yuck!

And then we wrapped up the day and said our good-byes.  It was a day I'll remember forever.