The History Behind Unseen Souls

Unseen Souls is a novel that combines recorded history with fiction. All of the places and events re authentic as are many of the people.

Characters at the centre of the story however are purely my invention. There may be some similarity with my chapters and those who lived, but I have not based them on anyone specific.

I have been fascinated by history all my life. From the earliest days at school I learned about Kings, great men (it seemed to be almost always men) and the battles they fought to maintain and grab power and influence.

But because of where I come from,. I’ve been more interested in the history of so-called ‘ordinary people’. Although many from humble beginnings are anything but ordinary. Eliza Turner, my central character is a remarkable young woman. And in my eyes, her development and achievements are far more impressive than those who started from a position of power, privilege and influence.

This novel is my first and I’ve drawn on many aspects of my own experiences of growing up in a small mining community in South Wales.

My research was extensive because I wanted to make sure I portrayed actual events as accurately as I could. That’s why I will share elements of my research in a series of blog posts.

The first in the series will be about the transition from an agricultural to industrial economy, a pivotal period in British and world history.

Life in Pre-Industrial Dowlais

Before industrialisation, Dowlais was a quiet, scattered upland community nestled in the Brecon Beacons — a way of life that had remained largely unchanged for centuries.

The land was harsh and unforgiving. Windswept moorland, rocky soils, and long, bitter winters made agriculture difficult. Yields were modest at best, and most families survived through a patchwork of labour: tenant farming, sheep grazing, peat cutting, seasonal work, and tending small garden plots. Anything surplus to their needs might be sold or traded at nearby markets, though journeys to Merthyr or beyond were slow and arduous.

Daily life was demanding, but it followed a steady rhythm shaped by tradition and community. Homes were small stone cottages, often just one or two rooms, and it was not uncommon for people to share their living space with animals. Women spun wool, churned butter, and kept the household running, while men tended to livestock, repaired stone walls, and exchanged help with neighbours as needed.

Welsh Nonconformist chapels were central to village life. Services were conducted in Welsh, and Sunday schools provided many children with their first lessons in reading and scripture. The seasons were marked not by the mechanical tick of industry but by the sounds of hymn-singing, the sharing of folk tales, and the gatherings that brought people together in shared belief and quiet resilience.

This was a pre-industrial world in the truest sense. There were no railways, no furnaces, no mines or machines. Work followed the rhythm of the land and time was measured by sun and shadow, or the toll of the chapel bell.

But by the mid-to-late 18th century, the quiet began to fracture. The discovery of valuable seams of iron ore, coal, and limestone changed everything. When Isaac Wilkinson and Thomas Lewis arrived, their ironworks signalled the first stirrings of industrial transformation — at first gradual, but soon accelerating.

To understand this early Dowlais is to glimpse the world that was lost. It sets the stage for all that would follow — and gives emotional depth to stories like Unseen Souls, which trace the lives of those who endured the rupture between past and progress.

Origins of the Dowlais Ironworks

The story of the Dowlais Ironworks begins with two very different men: Thomas Lewis and Isaac Wilkinson — whose unlikely partnership would transform a quiet upland into one of the world’s industrial giants.

Isaac Wilkinson, born in 1695 in Cumberland, was a man of both invention and contradiction. He rose through the ranks of the northern iron trade, known for his technical ingenuity, particularly in casting techniques and early experiments with coke smelting. But Wilkinson was also volatile — frequently embroiled in business disputes and court cases, and often in debt.

Thomas Lewis, by contrast, was a man of land, wealth, and influence. A Glamorgan landowner and a partner in the Plymouth Ironworks near Merthyr, he brought political clout as MP for Cardiff and held extensive local power. He had the means to fund new ventures and the legal knowledge to navigate land rights and leases.

In the late 1750s, the southward spread of industrial know-how brought Wilkinson — likely through his earlier work at Bersham near Wrexham — into contact with Lewis. Wilkinson needed capital; Lewis saw an opportunity to expand. It was a partnership of necessity: Wilkinson brought technical expertise; Lewis brought the land and the connections.

In 1759, they founded the Dowlais Iron Company and built its first charcoal-fired blast furnace on a remote, wind-swept hillside. Though the partnership didn’t last — Wilkinson departed within a few years, likely after disagreements — the foundation was laid. Lewis remained, and his family would oversee the site’s development into a major industrial force.

The first furnace was modest, but it lit the way. Over the coming decades, Dowlais would grow into the largest ironworks in the world. By the mid-19th century, under the leadership of Sir John Josiah Guest, it operated 18 blast furnaces and employed over 7,300 workers. It produced rails, cannon, structural iron, and later, steel for global export.

This industrial growth transformed Dowlais itself. What had been a scattered upland hamlet became a bustling industrial town. By 1872, its population had surged to over 15,000. Housing, schools, chapels, and amenities sprang up to support the vast workforce. The once-quiet hills of Dowlais had become a crucible of the Industrial Revolution — and the legacy of that transformation would echo far beyond South Wales.

From Landowners to Managers

After helping to establish the Dowlais Ironworks in 1759, Thomas Lewis and his family continued to manage and profit from the site for several decades. The Lewis family were absentee industrialists in many respects — landowners and investors rather than hands-on operators. They provided capital, land rights, and legal infrastructure, but the day-to-day running of the works increasingly required a new kind of leadership as the industry grew more complex and competitive.

By the early 19th century, the Dowlais Iron Company—once a symbol of industrial might—was beginning to lose its edge. Across South Wales, rival works were rising fast, driven by bold investments in new technology and superior transport links. Ironmasters at Cyfarthfa, Aberdare, and Ebbw Vale had seized the advantages of geography and innovation. Their works stood closer to the Glamorganshire and Monmouthshire Canals, or had swift access to newer railway lines like the Taff Vale Railway, opened in 1841. These routes slashed the time and cost of transporting iron to Cardiff and Newport, ensuring their product reached the docks ahead of Dowlais’s slower shipments.

Dowlais, perched high above the valley floor, remained shackled to the aging Merthyr Tramroad—an engineering marvel in its day, but increasingly unfit for the demands of a new industrial era. Its fragile plate rails and awkward descent to the canal added labour and delay, while rivals loaded directly from furnace to barge or rail. Even when the railway finally came to Dowlais, others had already claimed the lion’s share of market growth.

Just as crucial was the wave of technological change sweeping through the industry. In 1828, James Beaumont Neilson patented the hot blast process—a breakthrough that transformed iron production. By preheating the air pumped into furnaces, Neilson’s method reduced fuel consumption dramatically and made it possible to use raw coal instead of coke. Ironworks like Yniscedwyn and Abernant were quick to adopt it, doubling output and slashing costs. The new method even allowed for the smelting of lower-grade ores, widening the scope of viable raw materials.

At Dowlais, however, innovation came slower. Though still vast and productive, the works clung to familiar methods, wary of overextending. It was a cautiousness that cost them. As younger, more adaptable enterprises embraced the hot blast and modernised their systems, Dowlais—once the giant—found itself forced to catch up.

John Guest enters the picture

A man of ambition, intellect, and keen industrial instinct, Guest joined the Dowlais works in 1815 and swiftly rose through the ranks. By the time the 1820s brought whispers of decline, he had become managing partner—and brought with him a vision that would reshape not just Dowlais, but the industrial world beyond it. Where others saw a creaking enterprise with outdated infrastructure, Guest saw potential.

This shift—from aristocratic or landed oversight to industrial entrepreneurship—was emblematic of broader changes sweeping across Britain at the time. It marked the rise of a new kind of leadership: not born of privilege, but of knowledge, risk-taking, and innovation. By the 1830s, Guest was no longer merely an employee but the public face of Dowlais. His partnership was formally recognised with shares in the company, and he increasingly operated with autonomy. Following his marriage to Lady Charlotte in 1833 and his rising stature in both business and political circles—he became Member of Parliament for Merthyr Tydfil in 1832—Guest’s influence eclipsed that of the founding family.

Meanwhile, the Lewis family retained land and financial interests but played no further significant role in directing the company. Their legacy, though foundational, gave way to the era of industrial capitalism—where leadership came not from inheritance, but from expertise and enterprise.

Guest championed modernisation: expanding the works, investing in cutting-edge equipment, and embracing the innovations that had once left Dowlais lagging. Under his guidance, the company adopted the hot blast process, reorganised its supply chains, and fought for stronger transport links. He also understood that industry could not thrive on iron alone. He built schools for workers’ children, improved housing, and laid the groundwork for a more stable—if still harsh—community life.

Dowlais under Guest became not just a titan of production, but a symbol of industrial reform. Yet progress came with a price. The success of the company was built on smoke, sweat, and sacrifice—and the men and women who toiled in its shadow bore the true weight of its triumphs.

John Guest’s influence did not end with his lifetime. His leadership at Dowlais laid the groundwork for a legacy that would stretch far beyond the smoky hills of Merthyr Tydfil. After his death in 1852, his son, Sir Ivor Guest, took the reins and continued the transformation. The works expanded further, adapting to changing technologies and global markets.

By the late 19th century, the Dowlais Iron Company had merged with Arthur Keen’s patent bolt and nut works to form Guest, Keen & Co., which would later become GKN—Guest, Keen and Nettlefolds. What began as a cluster of furnaces in a Welsh valley evolved into a vast industrial conglomerate, supplying components for railways, armaments, and eventually aerospace engineering.

Full Circle

In a twist of history, the name Dowlais would not fade into the past. In March 2023, nearly two centuries after the first furnaces roared on that hillside, the name was reborn. Melrose Industries, having acquired and restructured GKN, announced the demerger of GKN Automotive and GKN Powder Metallurgy under a new banner: Dowlais Group.

The choice was no accident. It was a deliberate nod to the original Dowlais Ironworks—where, in 1865, the company had licensed the Bessemer process to produce steel, pushing the boundaries of what industrial Britain could achieve. That place of soot and fire, where men like Rhys Turner had once toiled, now echoed in the title of a modern, global enterprise.

From a village track in the hills to the machinery of the 21st century, the name Dowlais endures—a legacy forged in hardship, steel, and the resilience of those who built it.