Dr. Elin Jones, historian and educationist, lives at Ystrad Mynach, where she was born and bred in the days when mining thrived, at the heart of the mountainous Rhymney Valley, but quite a ‘balmy’ place compared with the Trefil Cave of Chartist fame, further north in the Blaenau, climbing well above the 1000 ft contour is where she ‘chose’ to visit in March this year before ‘lock down’.

 

Elin writes here for CHARTISM eMAG ‘dai iath’ – bilingually – Welsh first, then English. Her TV performance on this occasion is in English and can be seen via I-Player.

 

“Hidden Wales” ac Ogof y Siartwyr

Mae’n amlwg bod nifer o bobl annisgwyl yn gwylio’r gyfres Hidden Wales ar BBC Wales. Rwy wedi synnu faint sydd wedi fy nghyfarch gyda’r geiriau “Gwelais i ti ar y teledu pwy noson. Jiw roeddet ti’n edrych yn wlyb at y croen!”

Ac rwy wedi fy siomi’n arw. Nid yn unig bod pobl yn f’adnabod tu ôl i’r llen gwlyb o wallt yn hongian dros fy wyneb gwlypach, a minnau’n eistedd mewn twll tywyll ar ben mynydd yn yr eira – ond bod neb wedi dweud gair am y Siartwyr, pwnc y buon ni’n ei drafod, na’r holl bethau treiddgar a difyr a ddwedais wrth siarad amdanynt mewn storom o eirlaw, pan oedd y gwynt yn llythrennol yn chwipio’r geiriau o ‘ngheg.

Mae hynny’n drueni mawr, ac nid oherwydd bod yr hyn oedd gen i i’w ddweud o bwys o gwbl, ond oherwydd bod hanes y Siartwyr, eu ymdrech a’u haberth, yn haeddu bod yn destun trafod i bob un ohonom. Os oeddwn i yn wlyb at fy nghroen (ac yn oer at fêr fy esgyrn hefyd: roedd y gwynt o’r dwyrain â blas Siberia ar ei fin), roedd gen i gar i’m cludo adre, cawod poeth wedi cyrraedd y tŷ, cartref clyd i ymlacio ynddo ar ddiwedd diwrnod heriol, a thâl haeddiannol yn disgwyl amdanaf yn y banc.

Doedd dim o’r cysuron hynny gan y Siartwyr fu’n mynychu’r ogof ar ben y mynydd uwchlaw Trefil ym 1839. Cwrs a bratiog oedd ei dillad a’r glaw yn treiddio trwyddynt, a byddai’n rhaid iddynt gerdded pob cam at yr ogof ac oddi yno, yn y gwynt a’r glaw a’r eira. Prin oedd y cyfle iddynt gael bath twym, heb sôn am orweddian mewn cadair esmwyth, a phitw oedd eu tâl ar ddiwedd wythnos o lafur caled a pheryglus.

 Beth oedd yn eu gyrru ymlaen i wneud yr ymdrech i gyrraedd yr ogof, ac i ddringo mynyddoedd eraill ein bro i wrando ar areithiau tanbaid eu harweinwyr fel Zephaniah Williams yn amlinellu’r cynlluniau er sicrhau ddyfodol gwell, dyfodol tecach? Roedd y gweledigaeth hwnnw a’u ffydd mewn cyfiawnder a democratiaeth yn eu cynnal a’u hysbrydoli. Ac roedd dicter hefyd yn eu gyrru i ymgynnyll yn eu miloedd ar y bryniau - dicter yn erbyn anghyfiawnder cyfundrefn oedd yn gwrthod rhoi llais iddynt, yn eu gorfodi i lafur caled a pheryglus yng ngweithfeydd haearn a glo’r Blaenau er mwyn i eraill elwa’n fras ar eu gwaith ac aberth eu hieuenctid a’u nerth.

Recordiwyd y rhaglen yn yr ogof ar ddechrau mis Mawrth eleni. Ychydig o fisoedd yn ddiweddarach, a dyma fi’n siarad am y Siartwyr i gamera unwaith eto, ond ar ddiwrnod braf o Fai y tro hwn, ac wrth eistedd mewn cadair esmwyth mewn ystafell hardd yn Nhŷ Tredegar, Casnewydd (ar gyfer Trysorau Cymru, S4C). Y tro hwn y pwnc dan sylw oedd ymateb Syr Charles Morgan, perchenog y plas ar y pryd, i derfysg y Siartwyr ym 1839.

Y tro hwn, ychydig iawn oedd gen i i’w gyfrannu. Fel y byddech yn disgwyl, nid oedd Sir Charles o blaid y Siartwyr. Cadwodd mewn cysylltiad agos gyda’r cyfoethogion eraill yn y cylch oedd yn ofni chwyldro, ac yn defnyddio sbïwyr i geisio darganfod cynlluniau’r Siartwyr. A dyna ni i bob pwrpas. Ond meddyliais i, wrth fwynhau cysuron y plas, p’un fyddai wedi bod yn well gyda fi yn y pendraw? Bod yng nghwmni Syr Charles a’i debyg yn mwynhau cysuron cyfoeth, neu yn anialwch ben mynydd yng nghwmni criw o bobl anwar, brwnt a threisgar? Rwy’n mawr obeithio y byddwn yn dewis bod gyda’r Siartwyr yn y drycin: gweithwyr haearn a glowyr oedd fy nghyndeidiau, wedi’r cyfan. A byddwn i wedi bod ar ochr cyfiawnder a hawliau dynol hefyd - ac ar ochr iawn hanes!

 

 

“Hidden Wales” and the Chartist Cave

It seems to me that a lot of unlikely people have been watching the Hidden Wales series on BBC Wales. I’ve been really surprised how many have approached me to say “I saw you on the telly the other night. You looked wet through!”

And I have been bitterly disappointed. Not just that people were able to recognise me behind the wet hair hanging over my wetter face, sitting in a dark hole on top of a mountain in the snow – but that no-one has said a single word about the Chartists, the subject of the discussion, or about the insightful and fascinating things I had to say about them in a snowstorm, with the bitter wind whipping the words from my mouth.

This is very disappointing, and not because what I had to say was of any significance at all, but because the story of the Chartists, their struggle and their sacrifice, should interest every one of us. If I was wet through (and cold to the very marrow of my bones too: the east wind had a Siberian edge to it) I still had a car to take me home, a hot shower when I got to the house, a cosy home to relax in at the end of a challenging day, and a well-deserved payment waiting for me in my bank account.

The Chartists who frequented that cave on the mountain above Trefil had none of those comforts in 1839. Their clothes would have been coarse and ragged (and certainly not waterproof), and they would have had to walk every step of the way to the cave and back, in the wind, the rain and the snow. A hot bath would have been a rare luxury, let alone the opportunity to relax in a comfortable chair. Their pay at the end of a week of hard and dangerous work would have been pitifully small.

What drove them on to make the effort to reach the cave, and to climb other mountains in our area to listen in their thousands to leaders like Zephaniah Williams outline their plans for a better, fairer future? They were sustained and inspired by this vision of a better world and by their belief in justice and democracy. And they were fired by anger too to meet in their thousands on our hills, anger against a system which gave them no voice in their own lives and let others make obscene profits out of their labour and the sacrifice of their youth and strength.

 

The programme on the cave was recorded at the beginning of March this year. A few months later, I found myself again talking to a camera about the Chartists, but on a fine day in May, and sitting in a comfortable chair in a beautiful room in Tredegar House, Newport (for Trysorau Cymru, S4C). The topic this time was the reaction of Sir Charles Morgan, the owner of the mansion at the time, to the Chartist Rising of 1839.

 

This time I didn’t really have a lot to say. As you would expect, Sir Charles did not support the Chartists, and kept in close contact with the other wealthy people in the area who feared a revolution, and used spies to try to discover the Chartists’ plans. And that is basically it. But I thought, as I enjoyed the comforts of the mansion, which would I have preferred in the end? Being in the company of Sir Charles and his friends, enjoying the comforts wealth brings, or out on the bare mountainside with a crowd of savage, dirty and violent people? I do hope I would have chosen to be with the Chartists in the storm: my ancestors were ironworker and miners, after all. I do hope I would have chosen the side of justice and human rights – and the right side of history!

 

Elin’s visit to Trefil Cave with Will Millard

can be found on I-Player – it’s Part 2/3, Series 2, Episode 1

 

https://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/m000m93p/hidden-wales-with-will-millard-series-2-episode-1