Chapter 6
The news that peace had broken out in America did not please Isaac Thomas particularly when an order for cannons was cancelled by the Board of Ordnance. The ending of hostilities meant the army no longer needed the cannons.
Mr. Thomas’ stroke left him paralysed and unable to communicate except by grunts and nods. Having been told she was not welcome at the foundry, Eira stayed at home and nursed her father but the humiliation she experienced in front of the workers made her angry. She resented her brother’s arrogance but, realising how important it was to make sure her father was looked after properly, accepted her new role. Delyth had enthusiastically volunteered to help to look after Mr. Thomas but seldom visited the old man’s room unless Isaac was at home. When he was, she made a point of bustling about and appearing indispensable.
It was a month before Nye was fit enough to look for work. He walked to the foundry at Dowlais and asked for a job. The manager went to speak to the owner and returned to say there were no positions. He was told the same thing at Pen-y-darren and Plymouth works. Isaac Thomas had spread the word. Vaughn was a troublemaker. Returning home, Nye saw Eira come out of the apothecary on Church Street. He ran towards her and called her name. She stopped and glared at him.
‘Stay away from me,’ she shouted and hurried off.
Blacklisted by the foundries, Nye took any work he could find. He pushed coal tubs to the washing tables at Abercynon mine, where women sorted stones from coal. He laboured as a blaster’s mate in Gurnos limestone quarry, using a sledge hammer to drive six foot metal drills into the rock face, ready for the explosive charges to be set. When there was no work, he scavenged for coal on the slag heap above the town. His life had become brutal and uncertain. He considered giving up and returning to his father’s farm. Meir didn’t complain when Nye had no money for rent. Instead, she encouraged him like his mother would have done.
One evening, Meir and Nye were alone in the bar when Will Jones burst through the door. He was angry.
‘What’s wrong with you?’ asked Meir.
‘That bastard, Thomas, he’s finished me,’ replied Will.
‘So now there are two of you without jobs,’ she said and handed a beer to Will.
‘Why don’t we start our own foundry?’ suggested Nye suddenly.
‘Don’t be stupid,’ replied Will.
‘Listen to me, Will. I don’t mean anything grand, like Thomas’, just a modest workshop where we make small, quality items. What would we need? A small furnace, sand pits, some patterns - you can make them - and raw materials,’ explained Nye.
‘We aren’t businessmen and you’re forgetting something else that's rather important; we haven’t got any money,’ said Will.
‘I have,’ said Meir, quietly, 'John Price left me £885 in a bank account.'
'That's a lot of money. You didn't say he was rich,' said Nye.
‘I didn’t know what to do with the money, so I left it where it was. It’s still there,’ added Meir. They discussed Nye's idea until the early hours of the morning and shook hands agreeing a partnership between Nye and Will. Meir would provide her inheritance as a loan. Will would manage production while Nye promoted the business and found customers. The three drank a toast to their success.
‘I still think it’s a mad idea,’ said Will.
‘What about premises?’ said Nye.
‘There is an old water mill by the river,’ suggested Will.
‘You mean Castle Mill. It’s been empty for years. Maybe we could rent it,’ said Nye.
The owner of Castle Mill, Mr. Griffiths, a genial self made man, owned a number of properties in Merthyr. He watched as the two young men explored the building.
‘We can build the furnace by the far wall. The water wheel still works. I can adapt it to drive the bellows,’ said Will, enthusiastically.
‘Do you boys seriously think the mill can work as a foundry?’ asked Mr. Griffiths.
‘We certainly do. If we can agree a fair rent this place will soon be producing ironware,’ replied Nye. Will nodded.
‘I wasn’t thinking of renting. I prefer to sell,’ answered Mr. Griffiths.
‘I understand that but we don’t have the money. What if we leased the mill for £300 per annum?’ suggested Nye.
‘That’s a good offer Mr. Vaughn. More than it’s worth,’ said Mr. Griffiths. Nye realised he had blundered.
Mr. Griffiths smiled. He was dealing with novices.
‘What are you going to manufacture?’ he asked. Nye explained they were going to make small iron products like flat irons, cooking pots and firebacks.
‘What about competitors like Thomas and Son, they won’t like what you are doing?’ said Mr. Griffiths. The partners didn’t answer. ‘I’ll tell you what I‘ll do. In return for the rent you offered, and a ten year lease, which my lawyer will prepare, I’ll give you a six month rent free period. That gives you time to repair and convert the mill,’ offered the owner.
‘We agree but can we keep our arrangement secret?’ said Nye.
‘I’ll have my solicitor draw up the papers and don’t worry; Isaac Thomas is no friend of mine. Gentlemen, you can rely on my discretion. Good luck with your new business. I offer my hand to settle our agreement,’ said Mr. Griffiths. They shock hands, the deal was done.
As they were leaving, Mr. Griffiths asked the name of their new company. It was something that Will or Nye hadn't thought about. Mr. Griffiths suggested ‘Castle Iron Works’ as suitable because the mill was already known as castle mill and a castle signifies strength, an ideal metaphor for iron goods.
The partners started converting the premises the day the lease was signed. The roof was repaired. Labourers constructed a furnace and ramp along the side of the mill to give wheelbarrow access to the throat of the furnace. Will modified the waterwheel to drive bellows, forcing air through the furnace and dug a new culvert from the River Taff to increase the flow of water. Workmen tore up wooden floors and covered the earth with sand to create a casting area. While Nye managed the conversion of the mill, Will carved wooden patterns for their new range of products. Stout wooden doors were fitted to make the foundry secure and a sign was positioned high above the entrance. Meir, Will and Nye watched as it was lifted into place;
‘Castle Iron Works – Proprietors Vaughn and Jones’
The activity at Castle Mill did not go unnoticed by Isaac Thomas. At first, he was idly curious to learn who was rebuilding the mill. None of his acquaintances seemed to know and that made him more inquisitive. He asked around but was no wiser until his coal supplier mentioned that the new owners had negotiated a price for regular deliveries and placed an order. He quizzed the merchant and discovered what Vaughn and Jones were doing. The idea of a farm boy and a pattern maker, with no money or experience in commerce, trying to start a business amused him but when he shared the news with Delyth she told him they were a threat. Isaac protested that one more foundry in the town was of no consequence but Delyth was adamant.
‘Someone with money must be backing them. They know who your customers are and can copy your products,’ she warned. Isaac told Delyth she was obsessed but when she suggested a plan to put Castle Iron Works out of business he agreed it was a good idea. If it worked there would be one foundry less in Merthyr Tydfil.
Production started at the new foundry on the 1st March 1784. Nye and Will carefully poured the molten metal into the moulds. When the metal had set, Will broke open a mould and shook out the sand, revealing their first product, a boot scraper. Nye used tongs to lift up the scraper and examined it. The hot iron shone like silver. They looked at the flower patterns on the sides
‘It’s flawless,’ said Nye triumphantly.
‘It’s only a boot scraper,’ said Will modestly.
‘No Will, this is our future,’ replied Nye.
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