: First World War

Guest Blog: 'The Welsh at Mametz Wood'

Guest Blog by Holly Morgan Davies, National Museum Cardiff Youth Forum, 8 March 2016

While I enjoy going to the Youth Forum very much, I have to say a once-in-a-lifetime experience was not what I was expecting when I turned up last week. But there we were, in the art conservation room, a few feet away from an original Van Gogh, out of its frame on the next table, having just come back from being loaned to an American museum. I could have actually touched it (and I was quite tempted, though of course I didn’t).

Now, I’m not exactly an art aficionado, as you can properly tell by the way I haven’t included the name of the painting because I don’t know it, but I have to say it was pretty amazing. 

However, the focus of the meeting was actually the imposing The Welsh at Mametz Wood by war artist Christopher Williams, which is going to be part of a new exhibition focusing on the First World War battle at Mametz in a few months time.

This is a battle where hundreds of men from the Welsh Division were killed in July 1916, and thousands more were injured, something that the painting certainly doesn’t shy away from. It’s big, bloody, and quite brutal. While war sketches of poppies blooming among the trenches and beleaguered soldiers limping through mud evoke the tragedy of the slaughter that took place, they arguably don’t capture the fighting itself, but the aftermath, the few moments of calm in a four-year storm.

Christopher Williams (1873-1934), The Welsh Division at Mametz Wood, 1916 © National Museum of Wales

Williams’ painting does the opposite. The desperate struggle of the hand-to-hand slaughter was immediately obvious. It felt almost claustrophobic, the way the soldiers were almost piling on top of each other, climbing over their fallen comrades to try and take out the machine gunner. It was certainly a world away, as we discussed, from the posters bearing Lord Kitchener encouraging young men to enlist. We also talked about the way the painting is quite beautifully composed, almost in a Renaissance style.

It was hard to look at, but at the same time it was something you wanted to look at. 

After this, we went to the archives to look at some sketches made by Williams and other artists while at the trenches. I was about to get goosebumps for the second time that evening - one of them still had mud from the trenches staining the edges!

In any other context, 100-year-old mud probably wouldn’t have been very exciting, but this mud is so strongly linked in people’s minds with images of the First World War.

Think of the trenches, and you think of mud. People slept, ate and died surrounded by this mud; it seems to be inextricably bound up with the nightmare of having to live and fight in that environment, and made looking at the sketches even more powerful.

Another document we looked at was a sort of manual given to recruits of the Royal Welsh Division, containing poems, stories and pictures that the soldiers would have submitted themselves. It was touching to see one of the ways they would have injected moments of humour into their lives as soldiers, and also their own perspectives on their experiences. All in all, I’m really looking forward to seeing how this exhibition comes together, and learning more about Mametz, a part of the war I hadn’t even heard of until a couple of weeks ago. 

 

Holly Morgan Davies, 

National Museum Cardiff Youth Forum

 

 

Stitching soldiers - the Whitchurch Hospital tablecloth

Elen Phillips, 7 March 2016

Next month Whitchurch Hospital in Cardiff will close after almost 108 years of providing mental health services in the capital.

To mark this end of an era, members of the Whitchurch Hospital Historical Society have turned a disused ward into a pop-up museum. For one week only, members of the public, former patients and staff are invited beyond the Hospital’s imposing – some would say forbidding – red brick façade to explore its history from 1908 to the present-day.

An autograph book in cloth

Here at St Fagans, we have a tablecloth in the collection which was made at the Hospital in 1917. It was donated to the Museum in 2014 by the costume designer, Ray Holman, who had bought it at a Cardiff antiques shop in the early 1980s. At first glance, this white cotton tablecloth with a crocheted border looks, quite frankly, a little dull. But this rather unassuming textile hides a multitude of secrets. Look closely and you’ll see faint signatures embroidered in white thread across the entire surface of the cloth – the names of British and American soldiers who were receiving treatment at Whitchurch in 1917.

Military hospital

During the First World War, the Cardiff City Mental Hospital (as Whitchurch was then called) was ceded to the military and became known as the Welsh Metropolitan War Hospital (1915 - 1919). Civilian psychiatric patients were moved to other institutions, while injured soldiers requiring orthopaedic treatment occupied their beds. In 1917, 450 beds were allocated for soldiers with mental health conditions.   

The signatures embroidered on the tablecloth include two important figures in the history of psychiatric care in Wales – Lieutenant-Colonel Edwin Goodall and Matron Florence Raynes. Goodall, an eminent psychiatrist who trained at Guy’s Hospital in London, was appointed the first Medical Superintendent of Whitchurch in 1906, two years before the Hospital opened. He was awarded a CBE in 1919 for his pioneering treatment of shell shock. Florence Raynes was also a trailblazer in her own right. She was the first sister to have overall responsibility for the entire, male and female, nursing staff.

If you get a chance to visit Whitchurch Hospital this week, please do go. It’s a fascinating exhibition in the most powerful of settings.

With thanks to Gwawr Faulconbridge, Whitchurch Hospital Historical Society, Dr Ian Beech, and to Ray Holman for his generous donation.

End of an Era, Whitchurch Hosptial, 7 - 11 March 2016

The tablecloth will be on display at the Hospital on 11 March, 10am - 1pm

Dyddiadur Kate: Dodrefn Utility

Sioned Williams, 29 February 2016

28 Chwefror 1946 – Dwa yma y bore i nol benthyg bwyell a phlaen i drwsio braich y gadair freichiau. Tywydd gaeafol a hynod o oer. San yn dod adref efo Septic Ulcer ar ei choes.

Ar ddiwrnod olaf y mis bach, cofnododd Kate Rowlands bod ei mab, Dwa (Edward), wedi dod i fenthyg offer gwaith coed i drwsio braich y gadair freichiau.

Byddai troi llaw at drwsio, pwytho neu ailgylchu pethau wedi bod yn ailnatur i’r rheini a fu’n byw yn ystod y rhyfeloedd. Gan fod adnoddau mor brin doedd prynu o’r newydd ddim yn opsiwn i’r rhan fwyaf. Ychydig o ddodrefn newydd a gynhyrchwyd yn ystod yr Ail Ryfel Byd a dim ond rhai pobl fyddai’n gymwys i’w prynu gyda thalebau pwrpasol.

Ym 1941, dechreuodd Bwrdd Masnach y Llywodraeth fynd ati i ddylunio casgliad o ddodrefn utility fel rhan o’r cynllun dogni dodrefn. Y bwriad oedd creu darnau o safon, o ddyluniad syml a oedd yn rhad i’w cynhyrchu.

Cyhoeddwyd y catalog cyntaf o ddodrefn utility ym 1943 gyda chasgliad o tua thrideg darn. Dyluniwyd y dodrefn gan aelodau o'r pwyllgor ymgynghorol o dan arweiniad y dylunydd dodrefn, Gordon Russell. Roedd y dodrefn yn syml ac yn fodern, gydag ôl dylanwad y mudiad celfyddyd a chrefft (arts and crafts). Ni chynhyrchwyd dodrefn nad oedd yn cydymffurfio â safonau utility a rhoddwyd y bathodyn utility, ‘CC41’, ar bob darn fel arwydd o safon.

Gellid archebu’r dodrefn o’r catalog neu eu prynu o siopau lleol a thalwyd amdanynt gyda thalebau. Ond nid pawb oedd yn gymwys - rhaid oedd llenwi ffurflen i sicrhau trwydded cyn derbyn y talebau gwerth trideg uned. Rhoddwyd blaenoriaeth i’r rheini a oedd wedi colli eu cartrefi adeg y rhyfel o ganlyniad i'r bomiau ac i gyplau priod ifanc yn symud i gartrefi newydd, fel y prefabs.

Yn ychwanegol at ddodrefn utility byddai cyplau ifanc wedi etifeddu hen ddodrefn gan eu teuluoedd. Pwy a ŵyr, efallai mai hen gadair freichiau gan ei fam yr oedd Dwa’n mynd ati i’w thrwsio ym 1946.

Dyddiadur Kate: 1946 – Pwy ’di pwy?

Elen Phillips, 25 February 2016

Dyma fi o’r diwedd yn cael cyfle i ’sgwennu pwt o gyflwyniad i brosiect @DyddiadurKate 1946. I ble aeth Ionawr a Chwefror?! Ta waeth, roedd wythnosau cyntaf 1946 yn gyfnod prysur i Kate Rowlands hefyd. Rhwng mynychu’r capel ac ymweld â chymdogion, "ymosod a chlirio y pantri o ddifrif" a mynd ar wibdaith i weld bedd Lloyd George – roedd ei bywyd cymdeithasol mor orlawn ag erioed.

Erbyn 1946, roedd hi'n wraig briod 54 mlwydd oed, yn fam i bedwar, yn fam-yng-nghyfraith i dri, ac yn nain i Dilys Wyn. Dw i’n hynod ddiolchgar i Eilir Rowlands – wyr Kate – am gysylltu gyda rhagor o wybodaeth am hanes y teulu rhwng 1915 – 1946. Mae atgofion Eilir am ein nain yn haeddu blog ehangach, ond yn y cyfamser, dyma grynodeb o bwy di pwy yn nyddiadur 1946.

B.P – Robert Price Rowlands

Gŵr Kate – fe briododd y ddau yn Chwefror 1916.

R.E a Dwys – Robert Ellis Rowlands a Dwysan Rowlands

Ei mab hynaf a’i wraig. Roedd Dwysan yn ferch i Bob Lloyd (Llwyd o’r Bryn).

E.O (Dwa) – Edward Owen Rowlands

Y mab canol a oedd yn briod â Greta. Rhieni Dilys Wyn.

Em – Emyr Price Rowlands

Ei mab ieuengaf a oedd ar y pryd yn ddi-briod ac yn byw adref.

Es – Elsie

Ei hunig ferch a briododd yn 1944.

Mam a Dad – Alice Jane Ellis ac Ellis Ellis

Ei mam a'i llystad. Yn 1915, roedden nhw’n byw yn Ty Hen, ond erbyn 1946 roedd y ddau wedi symud i’r Hendre, sef hen gartref teulu Alice Jane.

Gyda llaw, bron i mi roi’r pennawd Helo Kitty i’r blog yma, oherwydd i bobl y Sarnau a’i theulu, roedd Kate yn cael ei hadnabod fel "Kitty Ty Hen". Mwy am hyn tro nesaf.

Rediscovering First World War collections

Jonathan Wheeler, 19 February 2016

Since late 2012, with the centenary of the First World War in mind, curators at St Fagans have been involved in a project to digitise objects with relevance to the conflict. The results are on the First World War database which you can see on this website. But in 2016, the project is still very much ongoing. One aspect which has surprised everyone involved is that objects with stories to tell about the war are still being rediscovered.

Before we began looking specifically for these objects, their potential to reveal stories about the conflict had not always been realised, and connections between objects not always made. Huge numbers of objects were often collected in the past - some in the years immediately following the war - meaning that the information recorded at the time was often limited.

Sometimes a bit of luck has been involved. As part of the Making History project, thousands of items from the collection have moved between storerooms and conservation labs. While auditing an area containing military and civilian uniform, I recently found a collection of badges and buttons of relevance to the period, taking the extent of our First World War collections beyond what we had previously realised.

As artefacts of war, these objects often have poignant associations. One lapel badge was recently found complete with a tiny photograph of a soldier who was killed in 1915. A shoulder badge and button of the Grenadier Guards were found belonging to a soldier who was involved in the retreat from Mons in 1914, and of whom there is also a photograph in our collections. We have also discovered objects from areas of the conflict previously thought to be unrepresented in the collections, such as this South Wales Borderers cap badge commemorating the Egyptian campaign.

The exciting aspect of working on this project has been the discovery of collections not previously categorized by their First World War associations. We have uncovered objects in a variety of areas: among pictures and photographs, letters and certificates, medical equipment, textiles, badges and medals. Not only can these items be seen on our First World War database, but some of the stories we have discovered will be told within the displays planned for the new galleries here at St Fagans –  just one example of enabling the full richness of our collections to be permanently shared.

#WalesRemembers #CymrunCofio

This project is supported by the Armed Forces Community Covenant Grant Scheme.