A very brief look at Black history in Wales and its global connections

Group of boys from South Church Street School, Butetown, rugby football club, 1924-25. Mr Bull was headmaster at this time (84.105I/6).

When people think of Wales, they often picture mountains, castles and coal. Yet the stories that connect Wales to the wider world are often less visible. Shaped by empire, migration and global trade, Wales has long been part of a wider network of people, goods and ideas. At Amgueddfa Cymru, we explore these histories through our collections – from photographs and artworks to everyday personal belongings.

The histories of Black and racially minoritised communities are not a recent addition to the Welsh story; they have always been part of it, woven into the fabric of Welsh life even when overlooked or excluded from mainstream narratives.

Tiger Bay

Audio CD book 'Born Down Tiger Bay: An extract of childhood memories from the book written and narrated by Cardiff Singer Patti Flynn' (F2018.7.7).

Black histories in Wales are not confined to Cardiff’s docklands, though they provide perhaps the clearest example of Wales’s global connections. During the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, Cardiff became one of the world’s busiest coal-exporting ports, linking Wales to Africa, the Caribbean, the Americas, Asia and beyond. Ships carried Welsh coal across the globe, which returned cultural exchange and new global connections.

Sailors and workers from places including Somalia, Yemen, Jamaica, Barbados, Nigeria and Cabo Verde settled in the communities around the docks, creating one of Britain’s oldest multicultural neighbourhoods.

The terms Tiger Bay, Butetown and Cardiff Docks are often used interchangeably, although they refer to slightly different things. Butetown is the official name of the area established in the nineteenth century, while Tiger Bay was the popular name associated with the dockside district and its diverse population.

Cardiff Docks Joint Registration Committee registration card issued to A. Tyler of 23 Swansea Street, Cardiff. Mr Tyler who worked in Cardiff docks between the 1920s and 1940s. Registration number '1466'. Folded card with green covers and black print (88.45I/1).

The Walker family and key workers from Jamaica

Arriving as part of a wider movement of Caribbean migration to Britain, the Walker family represents just one of many Jamaican families who made Wales their home during the 1960’s. Ivy Leslie and Gerald Fitz Walker, both from Jamaica, met in Port Talbot and went on to marry and have a family. They brought with them skills, experiences and cultures that enriched Welsh communities. Their story reflects the resilience, determination and contribution of a generation who helped build post-war Britain while forging lasting connections between Wales and the Caribbean.

Suitcase used by Ivy May Leslie when she emigrated from Jamaica to Port Talbot in 1961. Born in St Andrew, Jamaica, she later married Gerald Fitz Walker (also of Jamaica) in 1967. They lived in Enfield Street, Port Talbot, where they raised eight children.

Solidarity and resistance

Poster produced by Mudiad Gwrth-Apartheid Cymru / Wales Anti-Apartheid Movement advocating against cultural links with the Apartheid regime in South Africa. Designed by Anthony Evans. With slogan: DIM CYSYLLTIADAU DIWYLLIANNOL A DE AFFRICA / NO CULTURAL LINKS WITH SOUTH AFRICA (F2019.6.5). © Anthony Evans/Amgueddfa Cymru

Wales’s history is also a story of resilience, protest and solidarity. From struggles for workers’ rights in coalfields and industrial communities, to campaigns for social justice, language, equality and political representation – people in Wales have long challenged inequality and fought for change. These traditions of collective action connect Wales to wider global movements, including anti-colonial campaigns, civil rights struggles and movements against racism. Black communities in Wales were not only shaped by global connections through trade and migration; they also contributed to local and international struggles for justice.

The future

Exploring Black histories in Wales is not simply about recovering stories from the past; it is about supporting Black communities in the present and ensuring their histories, experiences and perspectives continue to shape how Wales understands itself.

Placard used by an attendee at the Black Lives Matter Cardiff demonstration held outside the Senedd on 27 June 2020 (F2020.20.13).

It also requires an honest reflection on the gaps that remain. Whose stories have yet to be told? What histories have been overlooked, forgotten or excluded from the historical record? By listening to community feedback, strengthening connections and developing our learning resources, we can continue to broaden our understanding of Wales’s past and present.

As the days grow shorter and the winter chill sets in, we reach for our woolly jumpers, scarves and blankets to keep warm. But did you know that there was once a time when a simple piece of red flannel was believed to do much more than keep out the cold? It was thought to help cure it too!

Long before the days of modern cold remedies, families turned to a humble piece of red fabric, believing it possessed remarkable healing properties. The practise was wonderfully simple. When someone developed a cold or sore throat, a piece of red flannel would be wrapped around their neck, sometimes warmed beforehand and often left in pace overnight. 

For chest complaints the fabric might be worn beneath clothing, close to the skin, while some people wore red flannel throughout the winter months in the hope of preventing illness altogether. 

Red flannel was also associated with remedies for rheumatism, muscular aches and other ailments. 

But why red? You’d think that any warm piece of wool would work.

The answer lies in a fascinating mixture of practical medicine, folklore and superstition. 

Throughout history, the colour red has been associated with warmth, blood, strength, vitality and protection. In traditional folk medicine, colours were sometimes believed to possess special powers, capable of influencing illness or driving away harmful forces. Red was considered particularly powerful. 

In medieval medicine, red cloth and furnishings were sometimes used in the treatment of diseases such as smallpox. It was believed that surrounding a patient with red could influence the course of the illness. 

Over time, such ideas became woven into everyday household remedies, with red threads, ribbons and pieces of cloth used to protect against various ailments. The red flannel remedy was therefore about more than keeping warm. For some, it was a way of wrapping themselves in protection against illness. 

Of course, there was also a more practical reason why flannel became such a popular choice. Wool is a remarkable natural fibre. It can help to regulate body temperature by insulating from the cold and it wicks away moisture to prevent chills from fever sweats. Woven into flannel, it provided a comfortable and practical material for clothing, bedding and wraps.

In Wales, flannel has a particularly rich history. For centuries, Welsh woollen mills produced flannel for clothing and everyday use, supplying both local communities and markets further afield. Red flannel was among the fabrics produced and sold. 

Today, we know that the colour red has no special ability to cure colds or prevent infections. Colds are caused by viruses, and wrapping ourselves in wool cannot make them disappear. Nevertheless, a warm woollen scarf can certainly provide comfort on a chilly winter’s day. 

The story of the red flannel remedy offers a wonderful glimpse into the lives of generations past. It reminds us of a time when home remedies were passed down through families, and when the warmth of a simple piece of wool could offer both physical comfort and reassurance. For the people who believed in its healing properties, red flannel represented something more than a piece of fabric. It was a symbol of care, protection and hope. 

And while we may no longer believe that red wool can cure the common cold, the comforting warmth of wool remains as welcome today as it was centuries ago. 

From the frozen landscapes of Antarctica to the collections of Amgueddfa Cymru, one remarkable penguin has a story to tell. A story of exploration, scientific discovery and an unexpected connection between one of the world’s most famous polar explorers and Wales. 

More than a century ago, Sir Ernest Shackleton, the celebrated Antarctic explorer, made a gift to the National Museum of Wales (as it was known then) of a King Penguin collected during his pioneering expedition to the Antarctic. 

But how did this extraordinary bird find its way to Wales?

An expedition into the unknown

In 1907, Ernest Shackleton set sail aboard the Nimrod, embarking on an ambitious expedition to explore the largely uncharted Antarctic continent. 

The British Antarctic Expedition of 1907-1909, better known as the Nimrod Expedition, would become one of the most celebrated voyages of the heroic age of Antarctic exploration. 

During the expedition Shackleton and his companions endured extreme temperatures, treacherous ice and unimaginable hardships. In January 1909, they reached within approximately 97 geographical miles of the South Pole, travelling further south than anyone before them. 

Although they did not reach the Pole itself, their achievements captured the imagination of the world. 

The expedition was about more than geographical records. Scientific research and the collection of natural history specimens were also important parts of the voyage, helping to expand knowledge of the Antarctic and its remarkable wildlife. 

Among the specimens associated with the expedition was a magnificent King Penguin, believed to have been collected on Macquarie Island, a remote sub-Antarctic island between New Zealand and Antarctica. 

A rather unusual request

On 16 March 1910, William Evans Hoyle, Director of the National Museum of Wales, wrote to Shakleton with a request. 

The museum was developing its natural history collections, and Hoyle hoped that the famous explorer might be willing to donate a specimen from his recent expedition. Remarkably, the explorer replied the very next day, on 17 March 1910, agreeing to present the museum with a King Penguin. 

Arrangements were made through Rowland Ward, the renowned London taxidermy firm, for the preserved bird to come to the national collection. It was a generous gesture from one of the most celebrated explorers of his generation, and one that would establish a lasting connection between Shackleton’s Antarctic adventures and Wales’s national collections. 

Even more remarkably, the original correspondence between Hoyle and Shackleton survives in the museum’s Natural History Archive, providing a fascinating glimpse into the story behind the donation. 

A Penguin takes centre stage

Standing approximately 90 centimetres tall, the preserved King Penguin became a remarkable addition to the museum’s growing natural history collections. 

In 1914, the bird was displayed at Cardiff City Hall as part of an Antarctic Exhibition alongside an Emperor Penguin. 

For visitors in Wales, the opportunity to see these extraordinary birds offered a glimpse into a distant world that few people could ever hope to experience for themselves. 

More than a century later, the bird remains an important part of the story of the museum’s collections, preserving a connection to one of the most remarkable periods in the history of exploration. 

A lasting legacy

Today, Shackleton’s King Penguin tells a story of courage, curiosity and the human desire to explore the unknown. It reminds us that museums play an important role as storehouses for biodiversity, keeping a record of a species over time, allowing generations of visitors and researchers to learn more about the natural world.

From the icy waters of the Southern Ocean to the museum collections of Amgueddfa Cymru, the journey of Shackleton’s penguin is a reminder that even the most unexpected objects can have extraordinary stories to tell. 

Now, more than 115 years after the generous donation, the penguin continues to connect Wales with one of the greatest adventures in the history of polar exploration as it makes its next journey from Cardiff to Swansea’s National Waterfront Museum.

Imagine standing on the deck of a ship in Swansea Harbour 150 years ago. Around you, vessels are arriving from across the world, carrying cargo, passengers and stories from distant shores. But how did sailors communicate with one another before radios and modern technology?

The answer was often found in the colourful flags flying high above their ships.

For centuries, maritime flags have helped sailors communicate across oceans, overcoming language barriers and sharing important information through colours and patterns.

Five colours, countless messages

The International Code of Signals uses just five colours: red, blue, yellow, black and white.

Chosen for their visibility and contrasting combinations, these colours form distinctive patterns that allow ships to communicate messages without exchanging a single word.

Each flag represents a letter of the alphabet, but many also carry a specific meaning when flown individually.

Here are three examples:

🔴 Red – Bravo

A solid red flag warns that a vessel is carrying, loading or unloading dangerous goods.

🔵⚪ Blue and white – Alpha

This distinctive flag signals that a diver is working beneath the water and warns other vessels to keep clear and proceed slowly.

🔴🟡 Red and yellow – Oscar

Divided diagonally into red and yellow, this flag communicates one of the most urgent messages at sea: Man overboard!

Connecting Wales to the world

These colourful flags have a particular connection to Wales’s rich maritime history.

During the nineteenth century, Welsh ports such as Swansea, Cardiff, Porthmadog and Newport became bustling centres of international trade. Ships carried Welsh coal, copper and other goods to destinations across the globe, returning with cargoes, people and ideas that helped shape Welsh communities.

In these busy harbours, maritime flags were an important part of everyday life.

Ships displayed national ensigns and shipping company flags to identify themselves, while signal flags provided a shared means of communication between vessels whose crews might speak different languages.

From the copper ships of Swansea to the coal-carrying vessels of Cardiff, the maritime world relied on systems of communication that helped connect Wales with distant shores.

A tradition that continues today

Although modern ships now rely on radio, satellite navigation and digital technology, maritime signal flags remain in use.

Their bold colours and distinctive designs are a lasting reminder of the ingenuity of generations of seafarers.

And behind each flag is a story of communication, cooperation and the extraordinary connections made possible by the sea.

Next time you spot colourful flags flying from a ship, remember that you’re looking at a language that once helped connect Welsh ports with the rest of the world.