Lime Works

Todays blog is a quirky insight into the industrial history of South Wales. Alas, time was short so it was only a quick mooch, but things like this are so often overlooked, particularly as it isn't what many urbexers would consider exciting. But there is history here. These silent ruins were once one of the biggest lime works of their time, and produced what was purported to be the best limestone in the world. 

The part of the lime works that actually resembles a building (above) is sandwiched between two huge blocks that contain the kilns. The kilns once burned limestone as part of the process of making cement. 

A casual internet search actually brings up very little on the lime works, but most sources will say that they were built in 1888 and owned by "David Owen," the owner of Cardiff's Western Mail newspaper. But then a quick look at the Western Mail newspapers history reveals something very interesting. "David" Owen never owned the Western Mail. 

Instead, two men named Lascelles Carr and DANIEL Owen became the newspapers owners in 1877.

Alas, Wikipedia then makes the error of linking this Daniel Owen to the famous Welsh novelist of the same name, a man from Flintshire who was the first significant novelist to publish books entirely in Welsh. While it's an easy mistake to make (easier to make than calling him David anyway), they aren't the same guy. 

Our Daniel Owen was from South Wales, but made himself a fortune as a timber merchant in Australia, before returning home when the mayor of Worcester informed him that the lime from his home was superior to any cement in the world due to its ability to set underwater. 

And so Daniel came back here to set up a new business empire, first becoming joint owner of the local newspaper, and then setting his sights on the limestone.  

Here we have a little pathway that leads between the building and some of the kilns. Originally there would have been rails leading through here, and likely some means of raising the carts up to the kilns.

This isn't the best shot of the kilns but I just love the way nature is slowly engulfing them. Maybe someday this will just be a big square block of vegetation. 

But what's really cool is that there's a photo of some of the old lime works employees standing in what looks like this area, with the building on one side and a big wall on the other, and rails running through the centre. 

 

(Photo not mine, obviously)

This photo is allegedly from 1907. From left to right, starting with the little boy but excluding the horse and the dog, are Clifford Prosser (the boy), Tom Evans, Dai Hopkins, Frank Brown, Jack Rees, Jack Morgan, Walter Prosser, Dai George and Ted Brown. 

These people, and their animals, are all long gone, but I think it's important to post photos like this. It's important to not lose the human element, even when exploring something that has been a ruin for a century. These people still mattered. 

I want to scrawl the usual spiel about how each one was someone's son, or someone's brother or father (even the horse and dog) but my partner said something interesting- Why is that the line people always use? Why is someone's value always measured in who they were "someone" to? These men were someone. That's all that matters. Each one had hopes and dreams, opinions and ideas. And this lime works, so often overlooked by people today, is how they put food on the table. 

Allegedly they all had swollen fingers from handling hot lime. 

I wonder if King Charles ever worked in a lime kiln. 

Check it out! We can actually see the remains of old rails protruding from this one kiln. 

The building itself is a shell, but we can still see where the upper floors used to be. 

So Henry Lascelles Carr, better known by his middle name Lascelles, came from Yorkshire where he allegedly trained to be a priest. He decided to give up that life and head to South Wales to become a journalist, and also spent some time as a councillor in Cardiff. He originally worked for the Western Mail newspaper until he purchased it with Daniel Owen in 1877. The two men also established "Daniel Owen & Co Ltd," which was a printing and bookbinding company operating out of the Western Mail offices. 

Lascelles was an efficient worker and businessman, and one hell of a problem solver. In 1893, the Western Mail offices burned down, but he was able to procure printing equipment and an office in Newport that same night, so that in the morning he could report on his own business burning down. 

Lime works had existed in the area for a while but this place was built with a bit more ambition. They wanted to bring lime works to the next level. 

By the 1750s it was becoming known that the area had a different kind of lime. It was mixed with a mineral called pozzolana, and could be used to create a mortar that could set underwater. This made it perfect for lighthouses, harbours and reservoirs. 

The engineer John Smeaton wanted to use this kind of limestone to create Eddystone lighthouse. After carrying out a few experiments he concluded that it was considerably harder than common limestone, but ultimately decided to shop elsewhere anyway. But it didn't matter, because even just the fact that he had been interested was enough to make this limestone explode in popularity, and at the time there wasn't a lime works big enough to meet demand. 

Daniel Owen had tried to make something out of this need for limestone, but his plans hit a snag. Any lime works he built in the area would be doomed if he couldn't convince the bigwigs at Taff Vale Railway to build a train line to the area. And they weren't about to do that. It wasn't financially viable. It was said that the traffic would not be enough to even pay for the greasing of the train wheels. 

Daniel would end up joining forces with a businessman named Stephen Collier who shared his dream of building a lime works greater in scale than any that already existed, and they had a meeting with Lascelles and the railway traffic manager, James Hurman. Daniel knew that his project would be doomed without a railway so he desperately wanted to get Hurman on board. 

Alas, Hurman wasn't on board. He didn't mind the gap between the train and the platform edge. 

But then to everyone's amazement and some degree of concern, Daniel Owen just went ahead and built the lime works anyway, despite having no indication that the railway would go along with it. 

Daniel, along with Lascelles, Stephen Collier and a ship owner named John Thomas, leased the land from Owen Henry Jones. This guy is quite a big name in South Wales history, his family owning Fonmon Castle as far back as 1658. He had apparently approached them, not only as a businessman who wanted to make something profitable out of his ginormous estate but also as a community man who wanted to provide work and resources to his community. 

And so against many people's better judgement, the lime works was built. 

And here's an illustration of what it looked like in its hey day!

(image not mine, obviously)

So here we can see the rails going between the central building and the smaller kilns, as well as the tramway to the top of the kilns. Wagons would have been lugged up to the top and their contents tipped in. Unfortunately any wooden structures have not survived to the present day. 

Some would say it's quite daring and possibly an act of madness to build this place, knowing that it was doomed without a rail service and knowing that the railway company wasn't compliant. But to the surprise of everyone in 1888 the railway company changed their minds completely. 

Why this happened has been the source of speculation for decades with numerous theories being put forward. Everyone said it was financially unviable. The Taff Vale Railway had absolutely nothing to gain. But in a meeting in May 1889, a chairman of the railway company had been badgered by this frequent questioning of his sanity, and eventually said that someone would have built that line eventually. It may as well have been them. 

This satisfied some critics but others saw it as more of an excuse. 

Whatever the reason, the fact that the railway coincided with the lime works opening and the fact that Daniel Owen and his chums were having it built despite seemingly having no indication of railway support, but being utterly dependent on it, seems to indicate that they were pulling some strings behind the scenes. Perhaps he and his rich cohorts just threw money at someone. 

(Image not mine, obviously)

Here's how it used to look. It's not the best shot but there are some humans in the bottom right corner to give it some vague sense of scale. 

In 1888 a gloriously long-winded newspaper article covered the lime works and their opening ceremony. It was attended by the mayor of Cardiff and the Mayor of nearby Cowbridge, the town which had been connected by this new railway. Both mayors gave speeches, wishing the lime works a bright and glorious future. The Mayor of Cowbridge went so far as to say that in the future, he wanted houses in Cardiff, Cowbridge, and everywhere else to be constructed using lime from this location. 

Daniel Owen, Lascelles Carr and Oliver Henry Jones all made speeches too. The future was bright. 

This path leads from the central building into the kiln building. 

And from there, there are couple of tunnels that lead around the kilns themselves. 

The walls of the kilns were said to be several feet thick but it was still possible to feel the heat by placing a hand against the walls. Needless to say, if you fell in, you'd be fucked. 

Each kiln could hold up to 300 tons, and could create 40 tons of burnt lime each day. 

I'm not an expert so I don't know how impressive that is. It was probably impressive in 1888 but I wouldn't be surprised if it's long been surpassed by modern technology. 

Here we can see the kiln openings. They were too small for me to squeeze my enormous flabby body through, being a glorified potato with limbs, but my phone still fits!

Allegedly children used to abseil down here for shilling bets. 

Regarding the validity that the lime produced here was the strongest in the world, I have found some publications where it came under scrutiny. A man named Mr Cox used it to build a reservoir but ten years later he found that it had decayed and was as loose as the day it had gone in. But it was concluded that he merely had a bad batch that had been improperly prepared. The lime was otherwise fine. 

But nonetheless, the railway was still financially unviable and by 1894 Daniel Owen was also struggling financially too. His lime business went into administration because "the company cannot, by reason of its liabilities, continue its business."

Times were hard and in 1895 Daniel Owen passed away, and his empire came crashing down.

But the Internet (the same sites that refer to Daniel as David, so don't get too excited) insist that the lime kilns closed in 1926. The only evidence I can find for this is the photo showing the people working here allegedly in 1907. It's certainly possible that another business used the lime works for a while, but it's also possible, especially given how often the name "David" has been regurgitated, that the internet has it all wrong. 

I don't know. 

But either way, for an entire century these lime works have stood here as the ruin of a once proud but doomed business venture. Old people recall playing in these ruins as children, and that just blows my mind. My last blog, the Boys Village, is within spitting distance of this place (when the wind is on your side) and that opened around the same time that these lime works are alleged to have been abandoned, so it's entirely possible that boys from there explored these ruins just as I am doing today. That's pretty cool. There's something awesome about something like this being enjoyed by multiple generations. 

I absolutely love South Wales. It's full of history, and it so rarely gets a mention here. I know it's not the most exciting urbex spot, at least not for those who just want youtube views and need some degree of sensationalism, but for those of us who like a good slice of history, this is pretty cool for a quick mooch. 

I will be back in South Wales in about forty-ish blogs. Hopefully I won't get kidnapped or something between now and then. My arse is pretty kidnappable. 

But anyway!

My next blog will be something unusual and bonkers, and I've never done anything like it before, so that should be fun. 

If you do enjoy my blogs and want to see more, then unfortunately I need to direct your attention to social media. Facebook is not showing my posts to half my audience, but that's because Facebook rewards rage bait, because rage builds engagement. But try following me there anyway, and see what happens! I'm also on Twitter but I don't know why. Primarily I'm trying to make the most of alternative forms of social media, so I'm on Cara, and Vero, both excellent Instagram alternatives that promote creativity instead of whoever has the plumpest wallet, and I'm on Bluesky. Follow me on these things.

Thanks for reading!