Read Online Jack the Ripper: The Hand of a Woman by John Morris - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: John Morris
Ads: Link
Morriston, Richard Hughes provided the land for the building at a knock-down price. But the agreement was conditional on his daughter having the honour of laying the foundation stone – which, in accordance with recognised tradition, was to be inscribed with her name.
Its benefactors intended the new Congregational chapel, Tabernacle, to be the most impressive building in Wales. John Humphreys, a chapel deacon known as ‘God’s Architect’, was appointed to create what would be the most outstanding classical design of the age. At the staggering cost of £18,000, it was a veritable cathedral amongst chapels, with a soaring octagonal clock tower and seating capacity for 1,450 people. “Tabernacle stands out as one great redeeming feature in the whole of that manufacturing district, an oasis in a desert, an object worthy of admiration in the midst of unsightly works and manufactories of every size and description … and all who have seen it speak of it in the highest terms” ( The Cambrian , January 1873).
However, in what was an unfortunate quirk of fate, Daniel Edwards, now a tinplate magnate, the ‘industrial spy’ whom Hughes had fired years before, was appointed to supervise the building project. At the grand unveiling ceremony, held on a grey winter’s day, 26 November 1870, over 500 religious and civic dignitaries, together with members of the public, tried to crowd inside the iron railings of the small yard fronting the great chapel. But there was insufficient room to accommodate them all, and they spilled out onto Woodfield Street, stopping all traffic, and the horse-drawn trams that ran between Morriston and the terminus on Castle Street in Swansea.
As the foundation stone was unveiled, the full force of Edwards’s malice was revealed. The inscription, carved in stone, read:
THE FOUNDATION STONE OF THIS
TABERNACLE
WAS LAID BY
Miss HUGHES, YNYSTAWE
26TH NOVEMBER 1870
It was a cold and calculated insult, the yesteryear equivalent of today’s two-fingered salute. Edwards had omitted Lizzie’s three Christian names. Not even her initials were inscribed on the stone – but Edwards had fulfilled the terms of his contract, and there was nothing that could be done about it.
However, Daniel Edwards had not yet fully settled his score with Richard Hughes.
CHAPTER 4
J ust twenty miles to the west of Swansea, not far from Carmarthen, stands the small whitewashed farmhouse of Blaenllynant, together with a cluster of stone outbuildings. They overlook a quiet mill pond at the end of a short grass track, just off the narrow Gwynfe Road. This idyllic setting, on the banks of the Afon Meilwch, a tributary of the river Tywi, was where John
Williams, the third of four brothers after David and Morgan, and his younger brother Nathaniel, grew up. When their father, David, farmer and part-time Methodist minister, died of typhoid fever in 1842, the task of raising the boys fell to David’s widow, Eleanor. John Williams’s mother was a force to be reckoned with. Within the family, her word was law; she expected obedience from her sons, and it is clear from such accounts as are available that she was not disappointed. John Williams’s biographer, Ruth Evans, said of her in John Williams 1840-1926 : “There can be no doubt that she was the force behind all the early decisions about her son John’s career, and that by drawing on her wisdom and strength, doors were opened to him, which might have remained for ever closed.”
The young John Williams clearly enjoyed a happy childhood. During an address to aspiring medical students delivered at the University College of South Wales on 10 October 1900 entitled ‘The Training of Body and Mind for the Profession of Medicine’, he recounted some pleasurable aspects of his early years. These reminiscences provide a vital insight into his character. The local school in the nearest village, Gwynfe, was three miles away, though the long walk through idyllic
Its benefactors intended the new Congregational chapel, Tabernacle, to be the most impressive building in Wales. John Humphreys, a chapel deacon known as ‘God’s Architect’, was appointed to create what would be the most outstanding classical design of the age. At the staggering cost of £18,000, it was a veritable cathedral amongst chapels, with a soaring octagonal clock tower and seating capacity for 1,450 people. “Tabernacle stands out as one great redeeming feature in the whole of that manufacturing district, an oasis in a desert, an object worthy of admiration in the midst of unsightly works and manufactories of every size and description … and all who have seen it speak of it in the highest terms” ( The Cambrian , January 1873).
However, in what was an unfortunate quirk of fate, Daniel Edwards, now a tinplate magnate, the ‘industrial spy’ whom Hughes had fired years before, was appointed to supervise the building project. At the grand unveiling ceremony, held on a grey winter’s day, 26 November 1870, over 500 religious and civic dignitaries, together with members of the public, tried to crowd inside the iron railings of the small yard fronting the great chapel. But there was insufficient room to accommodate them all, and they spilled out onto Woodfield Street, stopping all traffic, and the horse-drawn trams that ran between Morriston and the terminus on Castle Street in Swansea.
As the foundation stone was unveiled, the full force of Edwards’s malice was revealed. The inscription, carved in stone, read:
THE FOUNDATION STONE OF THIS
TABERNACLE
WAS LAID BY
Miss HUGHES, YNYSTAWE
26TH NOVEMBER 1870
It was a cold and calculated insult, the yesteryear equivalent of today’s two-fingered salute. Edwards had omitted Lizzie’s three Christian names. Not even her initials were inscribed on the stone – but Edwards had fulfilled the terms of his contract, and there was nothing that could be done about it.
However, Daniel Edwards had not yet fully settled his score with Richard Hughes.
CHAPTER 4
J ust twenty miles to the west of Swansea, not far from Carmarthen, stands the small whitewashed farmhouse of Blaenllynant, together with a cluster of stone outbuildings. They overlook a quiet mill pond at the end of a short grass track, just off the narrow Gwynfe Road. This idyllic setting, on the banks of the Afon Meilwch, a tributary of the river Tywi, was where John
Williams, the third of four brothers after David and Morgan, and his younger brother Nathaniel, grew up. When their father, David, farmer and part-time Methodist minister, died of typhoid fever in 1842, the task of raising the boys fell to David’s widow, Eleanor. John Williams’s mother was a force to be reckoned with. Within the family, her word was law; she expected obedience from her sons, and it is clear from such accounts as are available that she was not disappointed. John Williams’s biographer, Ruth Evans, said of her in John Williams 1840-1926 : “There can be no doubt that she was the force behind all the early decisions about her son John’s career, and that by drawing on her wisdom and strength, doors were opened to him, which might have remained for ever closed.”
The young John Williams clearly enjoyed a happy childhood. During an address to aspiring medical students delivered at the University College of South Wales on 10 October 1900 entitled ‘The Training of Body and Mind for the Profession of Medicine’, he recounted some pleasurable aspects of his early years. These reminiscences provide a vital insight into his character. The local school in the nearest village, Gwynfe, was three miles away, though the long walk through idyllic
Similar Books
