01/06/2026
Some interesting background on the ironworks
🔥 THE PEMBROKESHIRE IRONWORKS THAT ALMOST CHANGED EVERYTHING
Hidden away in Pleasant Valley, between Stepaside, Kilgetty, Wiseman’s Bridge and Saundersfoot, stand the remains of one of Pembrokeshire’s most fascinating industrial sites: Stepaside Ironworks, also known as Kilgetty Ironworks.
Today, it feels peaceful. Greenery, stone ruins, footpaths, birdsong, the odd dog walker wondering why their spaniel has suddenly become an archaeologist.
But in the mid-1800s, this valley was anything but quiet.
It was smoke, iron, coal, wagons, horses, furnaces, sweat, ambition and serious Victorian industry. Think mini Black Country in the heart of Pembrokeshire.
And yes, Pembrokeshire had all of that too.
Most people think of Pembrokeshire history as castles, saints, smugglers, pirates and picturesque harbours. All fair. We do that stuff very well. But Stepaside tells another story: the story of Pembrokeshire as an industrial county.
Not just pretty. Productive. Not just coastal. Coalfield. Not just tourism. Furnace country.
Stepaside Ironworks was planned from around 1846 by the Pembrokeshire Coal and Iron Company. The idea was bold: use local coal, local ironstone, local transport links and nearby Saundersfoot Harbour to create pig iron for export.
In simple terms, they wanted to turn Pembrokeshire’s landscape into metal, money and momentum.
The works opened in 1849. It was a major operation for rural south Pembrokeshire. At its height, the site included blast furnaces, blowing engines, coke ovens, workshops and lime kilns. It was not just one building. It was an industrial complex.
The raw materials were close by. Ironstone could be found in veins between the coal seams, including along the cliffs between Wiseman’s Bridge and Amroth. Coal came from nearby pits and collieries, including Grove Colliery, which was sunk to supply the works and came into use in 1856.
And then there was the railway.
The Saundersfoot Railway was crucial. Before roads and lorries, mineral railways were the arteries of industry. The line carried coal, ore and limestone towards the ironworks, then helped move pig iron down to Saundersfoot for export by sea.
So, if you have walked the old route from Stepaside towards Wiseman’s Bridge, you were not just on a pretty local path. You were walking along what was once an industrial lifeline.
The valley was basically Pembrokeshire’s own mini supply chain before anyone started saying “logistics” in meetings and pretending it was exciting.
But here is where the story gets interesting.
Stepaside Ironworks had big plans, but it never quite became the industrial giant its backers hoped for.
The works began with two furnaces, although only one was initially brought fully into blast. There were plans for more. Depending on the source, four or possibly even six furnaces had been anticipated. That tells us the ambition was enormous.
But ambition is one thing. Victorian economics is another.
The iron trade was difficult. Money was tight. The company faced technical problems, including a halt in production after an explosion. There were changes in ownership, legal disputes, slumps in the iron market and repeated attempts to restart or rescue the works.
By 1861, the original company was already in difficulty.
In 1863, C. H. Vickerman took over and there was a short period of better fortune. But the furnaces were blown out again in 1867. Another attempt followed in the 1870s after new investment, and a furnace was brought back into blast in 1873.
Then came another blow.
Trade depression hit, the furnace was blown out again in 1874, and the new owners went into liquidation in 1876.
By 1877, the ironworks had closed.
That sounds like failure. But that is only half the story.
Because Stepaside’s importance is not just in what it produced. It is in what it reveals.
The site shows how Pembrokeshire tried to connect its coalfield, coast, harbour and workforce into the wider industrial economy of 19th-century Britain.
It also shows the risks. Industrial success was never guaranteed. A site could have coal, ironstone, transport and investors and still be vulnerable to market crashes, engineering problems and undercapitalisation.
In other words, Stepaside was not a sleepy backwater. It was part of a national story.
And it left a mark locally.
The works supported mining, quarrying, transport, workshops, foundry work, horse haulage, railway labour and coastal shipping. It helped shape the communities around Kilgetty, Stepaside, Wiseman’s Bridge and Saundersfoot.
Grove Colliery, nearby, was especially important. It was opened in 1856 to provide coal for the ironworks. Local heritage accounts say the shaft was around 640 feet deep and has been described as one of the deepest hand-dug pits in Wales. Imagine that for a moment. No modern machinery. No soft landing. Just men, tools, rock, risk and a very long way down.
The surviving buildings around Grove Colliery and Stepaside Ironworks are not random ruins. They are the skeleton of a working industrial landscape.
The workshops continued to serve local collieries long after iron production had ended, reportedly remaining in use into the 1930s. That means the site carried on supporting Pembrokeshire’s coal industry for decades after the furnaces went cold.
There were knock-on industries too.
The Woodside Foundry at Wiseman’s Bridge used Stepaside iron. It made castings for collieries, wheels for drams, cast iron sheeting for repairs, domestic ovens, grates, boilers, cast iron headstones, and even castings linked with the Pembroke and Tenby Railway and Tenby’s Victoria Pier.
So, Stepaside’s iron did not just vanish into the industrial ether. It turned up in homes, railways, pits, streets and seaside infrastructure.
That is the sort of local history that makes you look twice at an old railing.
There was also Hean Castle Brickworks nearby, which used black clay from beneath the coal seams. Its firebricks were supplied to the ironworks and other customers, and were reputed locally to be of very high quality.
So the whole area became a working web: coal, clay, ironstone, ironworks, foundry, railway, harbour.
Pembrokeshire had an industrial ecosystem before the word ecosystem got hijacked by PowerPoint people.
What makes Stepaside especially special today is that it did not get constantly rebuilt and modernised like more successful ironworks elsewhere. Because it struggled and closed relatively early, some of what survives reflects the site closer to its original 19th-century layout.
That makes it valuable.
It is not just “old stone”. It is evidence.
The remains include furnace-related structures, workshops, engine houses, tramway links and colliery remains. Several structures are protected because of their industrial importance. Cadw records describe parts of the site as a remarkable surviving industrial group, and the wider site is recognised as part of Pembrokeshire’s important coal and iron heritage.
There is also a bit of local name mystery.
A popular tradition says the name “Stepaside” comes from Oliver Cromwell marching through in 1648 on his way to Pembroke, supposedly telling people to “step aside”. It is a great story and sounds very pub-sign friendly, but historians treat it with caution. The name appears to have older landholding connections too.
So, is the Cromwell story true? Maybe. Maybe not.
Is it brilliant local folklore? Absolutely.
By the late 20th century, the site had gone through very different uses, including a period as a privately owned caravan park. Pembrokeshire County Council acquired the 28-acre site in 1996, and major restoration work followed. By 2006, a project had helped stabilise structures, improve access, repair paths and fencing, add interpretation panels, and open the site for public interest.
That restoration matters.
Without it, Stepaside could easily have become one of those places locals half-remembered, then forgot.
Instead, it remains walkable, visible and deeply atmospheric.
And perhaps that is the real magic of Stepaside Ironworks.
It is not polished history behind glass. It is history you can walk through.
You can stand there and imagine the noise of the furnace, the clatter of drams, the black-faced miners coming home, the railway wagons heading towards Saundersfoot, the smell of coal smoke in the valley, and the ambition of a company trying to make Pembrokeshire part of Britain’s iron age.
It did not become Merthyr.
It did not become Blaenavon.
It did not become one of the great iron empires of Wales.
But for a few decades, Stepaside burned with ambition.
And that matters.
Because Pembrokeshire’s story is not only found in castles and coast paths. It is also found in furnace banks, engine houses, tramway bridges, mine shafts, workshops and the quiet remains of places where ordinary people did hard, dangerous, skilled work.
Stepaside Ironworks is one of those places.
A reminder that beneath Pembrokeshire’s beauty is grit.
And sometimes, the best history is hiding just off the path.
📍 Stepaside Ironworks and Grove Colliery, Pleasant Valley
Near Kilgetty, Wiseman’s Bridge, Amroth and Saundersfoot
Have you walked through the old ironworks or along the old railway route to Wiseman’s Bridge?
