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I was eleven years of age in the month of October 1934 and had nearly completed my course in the Pant-Teg primary School in the Swansea Valley and started my secondary education in the Ystalyfera Intermediate School, when my father broke the sensational news that we were to move as a family to Brecon in a month's time. I had been near that town before and I knew nothing about it nor of the county around. An opportunity to catch a glimpse of the environs came when a van was hired to take a load of books and garden and kitchen implements to the new home one evening in October and there was room for me. Two things remain in my memory of that journey - being struck by the warn and welcoming colour of the old red sandstone soil along the Usk Valley and the superb condition of the 'conkers' we found on the sides of Camden Road (or the Road of Thieves as it was known in the C17th) fallen from the horse-chestnut trees. Back in the Swansea Valley my 'conkers' surpassed all others that autumn! I understand that those orse-chestnut trees have disappeared - disastrous!
It was the quality of the red soil which caught the attention and delight of Alun Llywelyn-Williams in his excellent volume "Crwydro Brycheiniog" in the Crwydro Series, Llyfrau'r Dryw. It is worth quoting the words of a poet born and raised in the city of Cardiff - "of all the valleys that I have ever seen, I hold the Usk Valley most dear. I would not care to say that it is the most handsome of all of Wales' valleys. It is exquisitely pretty, every step of the way from the lonely, jagged headlands on the border of Carmarthenshire to Abergavenny's gateway on the doorstep of Monmouthshire's rich acres! But one could say as much of many another valley, although I know not of any valley in Wales which has such a consistently majestic back-drop as the towers and ridges of Fforest Fawr and the Beacons which stretch for thirty miles and more on the southern boundary. The Usk Valley is the heart of Breconshire, wherein is found some of the best agricultural land in our country and where many a fair mansion and old vllage bears witness to the fruitfulness of the neighbourhood. In this respect again, and in the wealth of its history, it is perhaps not outstanding, but this valley has one feature which sets it totally apart from every other valley. All along its course the Usk Valley flows through the soil of the old red sandstone and the redness of the soil gives the countryside a cheerfulness that not even the most miserable weather can ever cast aside, even when the clouds are full of rain and when mists swirl forlornly on the hill slopes. And on fine days the warmth of the red soil in itself is a spontaneous joy. I know of no valley of its size which is more pleasant and more cosy its colour than this one!"
It would be difficult to conceive of more complete change than the one that faced us in the move from Pant-Teg to Brecon. While the one was an industrial neighbourhood with its coal mines and its tin works and black earth, where welsh was fluent on the lips of children as well as adults, the other was an historic town, English in speech and outlook, nestling in a rich agricultural district with a fertile red soil.
For a period we shared a large house - "Bryn Siriol" - and soon after settling there my father called the three brothers (by now Owen, my eldest brother had started his career in a bank in Derbyshire) to his study and warned us - "Now, we have not moved from Pant-Teg to Brecon to convert you to Englishmen. Therefore if I hear you speak a word of English, any one of you, in this house, you shall pay dearly." And we knew very well what that payment would be, namely several boxed ears which would ring in our heads for minutes. And it was very difficult to keep to the rule with an ocean of English all around us. I don't know about Wyn and Alun, my brothers, but I was at the receiving end of many a clout which caused bells to tinkle in my head. But there was one exception - we spoke to my mother in English.
The school was different too. In Brecon, there were two separate schools - one for boys on Cradoc Road and the other for girls on Cerrig Cochion. One stream only of boys was received each year - so the boys' school was very small in comparison with Ystalyfera with its 3 form entry. In Brecon there were merely 150-160 boys. In Ystalyfera our winter game was rugby, but in Brecon, soccer.
And the chapels were different too with Pant-Teg chapel being one of the Independents' biggest buildings with a membership approaching one thousand. There was no organ in Pant-Teg but an orchestra of 40 or more in the seats behind the pulpit. The Plough was considerably smaller. Welsh was the medium of worship in every meeting in Pant-Teg while, apart from one Sunday morning per month, English was dominant in the 'Plough'.
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