: Collections & Research

Mrs Beeton, spreading Victorian housekeeping wisdom through the medium of her 1861 classic “Book of Household Management” (still in print in 2016!), said in her introduction: “What moved me, in the first instance, to attempt a work like this, was the discomfort and suffering which I had seen brought upon men and women by household mismanagement.”

Every conservator can identify with that; how many times have we seen objects damaged by inadequate environmental controls, neglected pest management, or insufficient pollution control? Panel paintings will split when the humidity in a gallery fluctuates widely; taxidermy displays are devoured by dermestid beetles; and lead objects, even minerals, corrode to dust in the presence of airborne organic acids, a typical indoor pollutant.

For conservators, the modern version of Mrs Beeton’s book is the National Trust’s “Manual of Housekeeping”. This is a book that has grown over the years into something now requiring a good sized tree to print it on – and, according to the National Trust’s paper conservation advisor, Andrew Bush, should be the only book in your collection that is badly damaged (from frequent use for reference purposes, of course). Conservation has changed from the use of traditional remedies into a science in its own right, with many dedicated scientific journals where the latest research is published. The National Trust, as one of the largest employers of conservators in the UK, runs an in-house training programme to ensure dissemination of cutting edge research to the coal face, as it were. Last week I had the pleasure of going through this week-long training – and a pleasure it was indeed.

The course (held this year at Attingham Park, an almost 250 year old mansion in rural Shropshire) is both an introduction for new staff and a refresher for long established conservators, which is reflected in the intense programme: each day was packed with demonstrations, workshops and lectures. Shorter sessions introduce the agents of deterioration and advice on the care of carpets, rugs and paintings and their frames. Practical workshops deal with diverse topics such as the conservation of paper, ceramics, metals and natural stone – each with their own material properties, risks and preservation techniques.

Even Mrs Beeton was able to tell us that “Essence of Lemon will remove grease, but will make a spot itself in a few days”, but did you know that it takes up to seven people to remove a large painting safely from a wall? Or that the corrosion on the copper kettle leaves permanent damage in the form of pits which are visible even after careful conservation treatment? That much damage is caused to floors by the sheer number (and type) of shoes walking across our heritage sites? That light causes irreversible damage to pigments and materials which even the best conservator cannot repair?

This is where preventive conservation, the pre-emptive care of collections, comes in. We know the mechanisms causing damage to objects. The challenge for heritage organisations is therefore more than simply fixing objects when things go wrong – instead, the focus now is on ensuring that as little damage as possible happens in the first place.

This means undertaking dust surveys to set up cleaning management plans; risk assessing collections for the presence of mould and managing the store/display environment accordingly; spot checking collections for pest damage and monitoring the occurrence and movements of pests around the museum; monitoring and adjusting light levels to avoid sensitive objects being over exposed.

For many years the advice was to wear cotton gloves when handling paper. But libraries and archives found that much damage was done to sensitive documents through the use of cotton gloves, which reduce manual dexterity, allow sweat and oils through from the skin and can snag on paper. So the advice now is to use either vinyl gloves or none at all – providing your hands are clean and free from grease.

Looking after the nation’s heritage takes more than locking objects in a store and hoping for the best. The proper care of collections requires much knowledge and experience; constant training to keep up to date with the latest research forms part of that.

Find out more about care of collections at Amgueddfa Cymru - National Museum Wales here.

A belated happy New Year to you all! In the weeks since I posted my last co-curation update, we’ve been on the road again co-producing audio-visual content for the Making History project. Working with various community groups and individuals, we've been creating short films based on the collections selected for display. These films will form part of the interpretation in the new galleries. Here's a quick overview of what we've been up to.

First World War

In December, I was invited behind the wired walls of Maindy Barracks to interview two serving members of 3^rd Battalion The Royal Welsh. One of the new galleries will include a display about the First World War, focusing on voluntary action, healing and remembrance. My brief was to capture a glimpse into Army life today and to record contemporary responses to century-old collections. Inevitably, the interviews touched on difficult subjects – separation, injury and death. Hearing first-hand testimony from the soldiers was a fascinating experience. It's going to be a challenge to combine and edit the interviews into a three minute film.

Miners’ Strike

Earlier this month, we shifted our attention to the 1984-5 Miners’ Strike. Working with colleagues from Big Pit National Coal Museum, we asked a group of Youth Ambassadors from Blaenavon to interview individuals who were involved in the Strike.

After a morning learning about the ethics and techniques of oral history, the young people formulated their own questions and spent the afternoon recording the interviews. We were conscious of the need to represent a diverse range of experiences; to give the young people the opportunity to challenge their preconceptions. With this in mind, we invited an ex-police officer to join the workshop, as well as former miners and others affected by the dispute.

You’ll have to wait until the new galleries open to see the results! Needless to say, the Young Ambassadors were natural interviewers – curious, probing and balanced. When asked to reflect on the process, Owen from Blaenavon said he'd been on “an extreme historical adventure”. I'll second that.

#MakingHistory #CreuHanes

The work with 3rd Battalion The Royal Welsh is supported by the Armed Forces Community Covenant Grant Scheme.

Cyn i ni ddechrau o ddifri ar y bennod nesaf ym mhrosiect @DyddiadurKate (oes, mae dilyniant!), yn y blog hwn mi fyddai’n ffarwelio â dyddiadur 1915 drwy gyflwyno stori Tomi’r Hendre.

Mae enw Tomi’r Hendre yn gyfarwydd iawn i’r rhai ohonoch sydd wedi dilyn @DyddiadurKate o’r cychwyn cyntaf. Ynghyd â’i chwaer Win, roedd Tomi yn ymwelydd cyson â Ty Hen – cartref Kate a’i rhieni – drwy gydol 1915. Fe’u magwyd yng Nghwm Main, ble roedd eu rhieni – John ac Ann Jones – yn rhedeg Siop yr Hendre. Mae llyfrau cyfrifon a thalebau’r busnes bellach yng nghasgliad yr Amgueddfa, ac os gofiwch chi, mewn blog blaenorol, fe fues i’n trafod ymgyrch John Jones i gael blwch post cyfleus i drigolion yr ardal.

Ond i droi nôl at Tomi’r mab, yn 1915 roedd yn fyfyriwr yn y Coleg Normal ym Mangor, ac eisoes wedi hyfforddi fel athro. Yn Rhagfyr y flwyddyn honno – tri mis cyn ei benblwydd yn 21 – ymunodd â’r fyddin. Nid oes cofnod o hyn yn nyddiadur Kate Rowlands.

Erbyn Ionawr 1916, roedd Tomi wedi ei leoli gydag 21ain Bataliwn y Ffiwsilwyr Brenhinol Cymreig yng ngwersyll hyfforddi Parc Cinmel. Wrth chwilota drwy archifau Siop yr Hendre, fe ddes i ar draws cerdyn post a anfonodd Tomi at ei rieni yn ystod y cyfnod hwn.

Derbyniais y parcel ond oherwyd[d] prysurdeb yr wyf wedi bod yn anabl i atteb [sic] o’r blaen. Yr wyf wedi symud i Hut 30 fel y gwelwch ac wedi cael fy ngwneyd [sic] yn ben arno ac felly yr wyf yn hollol gartrefol. Yr wyf yn hynod o hapus a digon o fwyd ac mewn iechyd rhagorol ac yn mynd yn dew ac yn gryf. Nid wyf yn med[d]wl y byd[d] yn rhaid imi byth fynd i’r front gan y byd[d]wn yn cael ein gwneyd [sic] yn officers… Gyrwch fy nghyllell boced a fy spectol mor fuan ag a alloch.

Er nad oedd yn rhagweld cyfnod yn y ffosydd, ym Mehefin 1916 roedd Tomi ar ei ffordd i Ffrainc. Llai na mis yn ddiweddarach, ar 20 Gorffennaf, fe’i hanafwyd yn ddifrifol yn ei frest ym mrwydr Coedwig Delville. Cludwyd Tomi i ysbyty yn Boulogne, ac yna i Ysbyty Ryfel Leith, ger Caeredin. Mae’r adroddiadau gan feddygon Leith yn anodd iawn i’w darllen. Dyma grynodeb o’i gyflwr pan gyrhaeddodd yr ysbyty ar 31 Gorffennaf.

Admitted from No 18. Gen. Hospt. Boulogne. There is a small wound size of 5/ on right side about the level of the 8^th rib. Dulness all over this side absolute at base, breath sounds faint over upper lobes. Pat. states that he spat blood but only very little at first. X-ray shows piece of metal at level of 8^th rib.

Bu farw Tomi’r Hendre o’i anafiadau ar 27 Awst 1916.

I hereby certify that No. 29606 Pte Thomas Jones… who died to-day of Empyeme and septicaemia… stated to me that he was wounded inaction [sic] at Delville Wood on July 20^th 1916. There was a wound in right side of the chest, haemothorax and X. Ray showed a piece of metal in chest. Patient was operated upon and portion of rib resected to allow of free drainage on the 13^th, but septic condition was very bad. L. Stewart Sandman M.D.

Mae’n dorcalonnus meddwl am fawredd y golled i’w deulu a’i gymdogion yng Nghwm Main. Cynhaliwyd ei angladd yng Nghefnddwysarn ar 31 Awst, ac mae’n debyg fod tad Kate yn un o’r rhai fu’n talu teyrnged iddo mewn seiat gyda’r hwyr. Cyhoeddwyd adroddiad manwl, di-flewyn-ar-dafod, am yr angladd yn Y Cymro (Lerpwl a’r Wyddgrug).

Angladd Tom yr Hendre yw y condemiad mwyaf ynddo’i hun fu ar y rhyfel yng Nghefnddwysarn… Y mae ei ysbryd caredig yng nghartref Caredigrwydd ei hun. Nid oes yno orfodaeth, nid oes yno glwyfo, nid oes yno ladd a llofruddio, nid oes yno neb yn cael ei gablu a’i regi gan ei salach. Yno y mae cydwybod yn rhydd, yno ni chlwyfir cariad mam, yno rhoddir ei le i gariad tad, yno ni chwelir cartrefi, ac yno ni thorrir calonnau.

Fel y byddai’n gwneud i goffau Hedd Wyn maes o law, cyfansoddodd R. Williams Parry – cyn ysgolfeistr y Sarnau –  englynion er cof amdano.

Ger ei fron yr afon rêd – dan siarad

Yn siriol wrth fyned;

Ni wrendy ddim, ddim a ddwed

Dan y clai nid yw'n clywed.

Ond pridd Cefnddwysarn arno – a daenwyd

Yn dyner iawn drosto;

A daw'r adar i droedio

Oddeutu'i fedd ato fo.

This month the museum purchased four handbills for the Isle of Man Steam Packet Company. They date from the 1960s and 1970s. This company is still going and is the oldest continuously operating passenger shipping company in the world. It was founded in 1830 and is celebrating its 185^th anniversary this year. Three are illustrated here.

The next three images are from a book of cartoons published by the Western Mail and Evening Express. The cartoons by J.M. Staniforth tell the story of the strike of 1898 and are “a Pictorial History of the longest and most disastrous dispute which ever afflicted the extensive coalfield of South Wales and Monmouthshire”. Joseph Morewood Staniforth was born in Gloucester in 1863. His family moved to Cardiff in 1870, and he started working for the Western Mail aged 15. His first cartoons were published by the Western Mail in 1889 and he went on to produce cartoons covering political and social unrest in Wales up until the First World War.

Amgueddfa Cymru holds a large and comprehensive collection of Welsh share certificates. This month we added one further share certificate to the collections. This was for Nobel Industries Ltd. This company, which operated from 1920 to 1926, owned two important explosives works in Wales. The Glynneath Gunpowder Works in the Vale of Neath (now open to the public by the Brecon Beacons National Park), and Pembrey Explosives Works, Carmarthenshire (also open to the public as a local authority owned country park). This certificate is unused and dates from the 1920s.

Finally this month we acquired three photographs showing the hot dip galvanizing of finished steel pressings at Cwmfelin works, Swansea in the early 1960s. The two images here show the galvanising of buckets and rubbish bins.

Mark Etheridge
Curator: Industry & Transport
Follow us on Twitter - @IndustryACNMW

Following on from Sioned’s blog about our work with Mat Fraser in 2014 and the anonymous ‘invalid chair’ she found in the collection, in this blog I’ll be discussing another object which featured in Mat’s performance – an 18^th century woollen suit from the Llantrisant area.  

Unlike most of the disability-related collections in the Museum, the suit in question comes with a personal story and a file bulging with snippets from local history books. Worn by Hopkin Hopkins – better known as ‘Hopcyn Bach’ [Little Hopcyn] – the frock coat and matching breeches are among the oldest items of clothing in the collection. They were acquired by the Museum in 1920, before it was common practice for curators to document their reasons for accepting artefacts into the collection.

Hopkin Hopkins (1737 - 54) was born with a growth restricting condition. His physical appearance became a source of income for his family. It may seem repugnant to us today, but at the age of 14 he was taken to London by his parents and shown publically for money. Billed as “the wonderful and surprising Little Welchman”, his perceived ‘freakishness’ was a source of entertainment in polite society. In 1751, Hopkin was presented to the Royal Family who gave him a gold watch, an annual pension and ten guineas for each appearance he made at Court.

In the same year, he was also ‘on display’ in Bristol. This vivid account of the visit is taken from a letter sent by John Browning in September 1751:

I am just returned from Bristol where I have seen an extraordinary young man, whose case is very surprising; he is shewn publicly for money, and therefore I send you the printed bill, which is given about to bring company… I went myself to view and examine this extraordinary, and surprising but melancholy subject; a lad entering the 15^th year of his age, whose stature is no more than 2 feet and 7 inches, and weight 13 pound, labouring under all the miserable and calamities of old age, being weak and emaciated, his eyes dim, his hearing very bad, his countenance fallen, his voice very low and hollow; his head hanging down before, so that his chin touches his breast, consequently his shoulders are raised and his back rounded not unlike a hump-back, he is weak that he cannot stand without support. [Letter from John Browning to Henry Baker, 12 September 1751. Quoted in Sem Phillips, The History of the Borough of Llantrisant, 1866.]

How did Hopkin feel about being an object of curiosity? We simply don’t know. Although we have numerous descriptions of his body, his voice is missing from the narrative.