Category: News

A Statue For Abolitionist Iolo Morganwg?

DOES THE VALE’S IOLO MORGANWG DESERVE A STATUE?

The current debate over statues and memorials brings to mind one of the Vale’s most notable historical figures, Edward Williams, better known by his bardic name, Iolo Morganwg. Iolo, born near Cowbridge in 1747, is the inventor of the Gorsedd of the Bards, the ceremonial gathering of druids at the National Eisteddfod. However he was also one of Wales’s best-known campaigners for the abolition of slavery. Below is an extract from one of his poems in which Iolo (who styled himself ‘The Bard of Liberty’) addresses the goddess Liberty.

 

 

Join here thy [i.e. Liberty’s] Bards, with mournful note,

They weep for Afric’s injur’d race;

Long has thy Muse in worlds remote

Sang loud of Britain’s foul disgrace.

In the mid 1790s, Iolo opened in Cowbridge, what was possibly the first Fair Trade shop in Wales. He once displayed the book ‘The Rights of Man’ in his shop window. Two government spies bought the book, thinking it to be banned work by the radical Tom Paine, only to find a copy of the Bible inside its covers. What better book to expound the rights of man, retorted Iolo to the enraged spies!

In line with his anti-slavery, Iolo refused to sell books to Bristol slave merchants and to sell West Indian sugar produced by slaves. Instead, he stocked East Indian sugar produced by free labour, with a sign in his shop window reading: ‘East India Sweets, uncontaminated with human gore.’

Ironically, his two brothers were prosperous sugar planters in Jamaica, owning 240 slaves. It seems Iolo could have gained substantially from the slave trade but refused any financial help from them, including a sizeable inheritance. ‘May the vast Atlantic Ocean swallow up Jamaica and all the other slave trading and slave holding countries before a boy or girl of mine eats a single morsel that would prevent him or her of perishing from hunger, if it is the produce of slavery.’

Iolo is a controversial character, deserving of praise but also not immune from criticism. In spite of his stance on slavery, by 1815 and in great debt, Iolo accepted £100 from the will of one of his brothers to pay off his debts and set his son up as a schoolmaster in Merthyr. This he knew was money made from the slave trade. As a Unitarian he was a religious man. He was a collector of medieval Welsh literature and did much to promote Welsh history and culture. On the other hand, on occasion he forged ancient documents. He was a great thinker, but also used the opiate laudanum; on the grounds it helped his asthma.

Iolo has several memorial plaques, including one at Primrose Hill in London and a blue plaque at his

Vale birthplace. He has a Welsh-language school, Ysgol Iolo Morganwg, named after him, and Super Furry Animals vocalist Gruff Rhys dedicated a song to him on his 2014 album, American Interior.

The writer and former archdruid T James Jones described him as a great visionary who realised Wales needed its own institutions such as the Senedd. James went so far as to argue that Iolo Morganwg deserves a statue in his honour in Cardiff Bay. It is topical to consider whether such a statue should be erected or if there was one there already, would there be justifiable calls for it to be removed

 

 

How to make a journey stick

How to make a journey stick

Have you ever made a journey stick when you are out for a walk? It is a fun way of remembering what you have seen and where you have been. Aboriginal people in Australia used journey sticks to more easily recount their journeys to other people upon their return. They found a large walking stick, collected materials found along the way, and tied them to the stick in chronological order. Native Americans also decorated sticks to recount their journeys and tell about their travels.

You will need a stick that is about 30cm long and quite thick, some coloured wool and a pair of scissors.

As you go out for your walk collect things that you see, such as a feather or a leaf. Each time you find a new treasure use the wool to tie it to your stick. When you get home see if you can use your journey stick to tell someone about your walk

 

 

July’s Letter From Jon

July’s Letter From Jon

Dear Friends

I am writing this letter on Friday 18th June and like many I have been listening to the announcement of the Welsh Government and the relaxation of the lockdown. Like many I was listening in order to ascertain when I would be able to next see my parents in Neath and also when it may be possible to visit our daughter in London.

As well as the personal family matters that have affected us all, I was also delighted to learn that the Welsh Government has said that places of worship can open for private prayer. It is important to stress here that wording of “can open” and “private prayer”. In conjunction with this the Church in Wales has issued a practical guide on re-opening the churches during the Red Phase which is the new phase we are in.

As this has only been announced today and as I have only seen the guidelines today I am unable to give exact dates and times as to when St Mary’s Church Wenvoe will be open. Over the next few days we will be working through the guidelines and getting systems in place in order to be able to safely open the building. More details will follow in due course on our facebook page – https://www.facebook.com/sullywenvoeandstlythans.

However, it is important to note the following at this stage

  • The church building is open for private prayer only. There will be no formal worship or singing.
  • As there is no formal worship we are still unable to undertake funerals, weddings and baptisms in the church
  • The Church in Wales Guidelines state that we are not able to offer people votive candles to light
  • The Church in Wales Guidelines stress that those who are shielding should not enter the church building
  • The Church Hall will remain closed at present

 

2m social distancing – at the time of writing – continues to be applied at all times in the approach to the church and inside the building

This list has a bit of an austere Old Testament look to it – and I apologise if people find it off putting, but I am sure that, as you can imagine, we have to stay within the Guidelines as set by the Bench of Bishops of the Church in Wales.

You will notice that we are not as yet permitted to open the Church Hall in Wenvoe. It has also been decided that during the Red Phase we will not be re-opening the church in St Lythans.

But please don’t be downhearted by the rules and regulations, rather see them as the first small step towards opening our doors freely to all who wish to enter our beautiful ancient parish churches.

Should you require any more information then please do not hesitate to contact me on revjonormrod@yahoo.co.uk

Yours

Jon

 

 

St Mary’s Church Appeal

ST MARY’S CHURCH WENVOE APPEAL

Helping to maintain our historic church

About St Mary’s – The earliest mention of a church in Wenvoe was 1064. The present building is 12th century, added to in the 17th century and greatly enhanced in the 19th century. In 1991 the north transept was built.

St Mary’s is a Grade 2* listed building and as such it takes an enormous amount of money just to keep the building in good condition. As with all ancient buildings the church needs a great deal of care and constant attention to meet the exacting standards set by Cadw and the Church in Wales. Costs are high and even small repairs can run to thousands of pounds.

Every generation has diligently cared for St Mary’s. Now it’s our turn. You can donate direct to our Bank account 08-90-03 Account No 50192159 or by cheque to Rev. Jon Ormrod, The Rectory, Port Rd., Wenvoe Cardiff CF56DF

Thank you

 

 

Vale Reviews Its Statues

Vale Reviews Its Statues Following Recent Events

In the light of recent events, Neil Moore, Leader of the Vale of Glamorgan Council has asked officers to begin work to review statues and commemorations, including street names, public buildings and plaques. ‘It is vital those on public land are representative of local people’s values and those of a modern, inclusive Council. We will work with our communities and appropriate organisations to investigate links to slavery and any other behaviour or practice not befitting our ethos’ he said.

 

The legacy of the slave trade runs through the history of many British ports, but it was largely the profits of coal and iron ore that led to the growth of ports in Wales. Cardiff has become one of the most multi-cultural cities in the UK, but nevertheless its history shows it was not immune from the issue. In November 1843, the Times published a short story (below) about an incident at Cardiff docks. The Times is scathing in its condemnation of the people of Cardiff, although it doesn’t make clear what could have been done to help the poor man. Hopefully he lived to see the abolition of slavery in the United States in 1865.

‘A runaway slave, belonging to an American vessel that lay out in the Penarth roads last week, was found secreted on board a Waterford brig in the Bute docks, which he had entered some weeks previous as an able seaman. A strong party of the American ship’s crew, having ascertained his place of retreat, entered the brig and forcibly bore off the unfortunate slave. Neither remonstrance nor resistance was offered on the occasion, and the Yankee trader having conveyed the poor fellow on board, immediately set sail for his destination. The captured slave was an excellent seaman, and borne upon his person many and severe marks of his helpless condition, and the brutality of his task-masters. It is a disgrace to the people of Cardiff to have allowed this poor fellow to be recaptured and dragged back by his tormentors from the sanctuary of the British soil.’

Swansea had a more direct link to the slavery issue through its world famous copper works. The 19th century Welsh demand for copper meant turning to the notoriously cruel El Cobre mines of Cuba, worked by slaves. James Whitburn, a Cornish man who worked in the mines described what went on. ‘The flogging of the Negroes in this country is most cruel. I have seen them laid on the ground, sometimes tied to a ladder, and at other times held by one man at the foot and another at the head, while another Negro with a whip 10 or 12 ft long from the end of the stick to the point of the lash, gives the Negro confined 25 blows or I may say, cuts …every blow rattles almost as loud as a gun.’

The Lord Mayor of Cardiff has called for a bust of one slave owner, Thomas Picton, to be removed from City Hall. Picton, the most senior general to die at the Battle of Waterloo, was accused of the torture of a teenage girl, when governor in Trinidad. The historian Prof Chris Evans has suggested cases be looked at on their own merits and the views of local communities taken into account. For some monuments it may mean demolition and for others removal to a museum where they can be properly contextualised and explained. It will be interesting to see what happens in the Vale.

Elsewhere, we investigate the case of Iolo Morganwg, the anti-slave trade protestor from Cowbridge

 

 

Thank You Wenvoe

Thank You Wenvoe

I would like to say ‘Thank You’ to the residents of Wenvoe for all your donations for Llandough Hospital following my GoFundMe request. Thanks to your financial contributions we were able to source a specialist Visor, masks, cases of coke, cereal bars and biscuits for the staff on the wards.

I would also like to thank the residents who spent their time making Scrub bags, mask mates and residents, including Compass Catering in Cathays, who donated food, fruit, cases of water, teabag

coffee, snacks, material and toiletries. Also Vale Visors who donated visors for Llandough Hospital. It has truly been appreciated.

National volunteer week is 1st – 7th June and it seems the appropriate time to thank our Neighbourhood Watch Group, Glenys Tucker for running a superb Wenvoe Facebook Page, Anwar and Reema and all our volunteers who have been helping the residents of Wenvoe. On behalf of everyone in Wenvoe we would like to say a massive Thank you!

Claire Harlow

 

 

Thanks For Everything

Thanks For Everything

Thank you to the What’s On team for continuing to produce editions of your excellent magazine during these strange times we are in. It is great to have something normal to remind us of more pleasant happenings. We would also like to thank Mike and Glenys Tucker for their help during this lockdown and for cheering us all up with their marvellous effort on the 75th Anniversary of VE Day. We are so lucky to have our village shop which Anwar keeps well stocked. Thank you too to Jon our vicar for keeping our church alive with online services.

We feel we are very fortunate to live in such a friendly village.

Best Wishes,

Sandra and Brian Jones

 

 

Phil Morant – Wonderful Servant Of Our Community

 

This last month an event occurred which many would have attended in order to pay their respects, but in the present lockdown circumstances, it was denied to them

I refer to the laying to rest of the ashes of Phil Morant. I have known Phil and his family since 1969 when we all came to live in Wenvoe. I knew Phil as a neighbour, a colleague in employment, a colleague on the Community Council and a trusted friend. In all circumstances Phil was kind hearted, generous and outstandingly diplomatic.

In the first 10 years of the Vale of Glamorgan CASH scheme (Community Aid Self Help) little Wenvoe received more money for local capital projects than any other town and Community Council in the Vale of Glamorgan. This was particularly due to the skilful way Phil presented applications and handled the scrutiny of the project.

Following the previous failure to formally record some of the burials in the Community cemetery, it took Phil eight years of detective work to sort everything out. All this he did without anyone being upset, in a most delicate situation.

Last month Parry Edwards justly paid tribute to Phil and now that he has been laid to rest in our lovely cemetery, I feel it is appropriate to give a wider acknowledgement to a wonderful servant of our community. He will always be remembered by so many.

Michael R Harvey

Wenvoe Community Councillor

 

 

Covid 19 Repatriaton Saga

THE FIRST….HOPEFULLY THE LAST

I’ve never been repatriated before but then I’ve never been in the middle of a pandemic before. COVID 19 was already in Britain before I left. Going abroad didn’t seem like a good idea but as the holiday company hadn’t cancelled, I went. Even getting there was a trial, with an hour and a half spent standing in a hot and frustrated queue of people waiting to get a health and temperature check before being allowed onto Cape Verde. Just 7 out of the 15 of us had decided to brave it.

The first couple of days meant more travel. An internal flight to a smaller island, walks, dinner, a ferry the next day to an even smaller island and all the while the group discussing how long it would be before trouble struck. On the third day of our trip we experienced a glorious full day walk in the Cape Verdean sunshine. Think the Great Wall of China meets the terraces of Machu Picchu. Our homestay was in a remote village; beers bought from the one shop that services the small cluster of houses and food wonderfully fresh and local. We finally found ourselves in a proper holiday mood. Another day’s walking in the striking scenery meant we settled in for dinner with some optimism that we might actually get a holiday. Cape Verde is a delight for walking and our island felt removed from any of the worries and stresses of our everyday lives. The mood was chilled as we shared dinner and chatted about the days behind us and the experiences shared. When we fell quiet for our briefing on the next day, the news came as if never expected. Cape Verde had closed its borders and we were being repatriated.

The first question was how to get home from this beautiful but remote destination. There is a vague plan to fly us through several European countries. We are all instantly subdued.

Both the ferry port and the airport are busy with overseas visitors heading home. We desperately try and spend some of our local currency and get a good meal whilst we can. We land on a God awful flat salt plain of an island, popular with tourists for its sandy beaches and clear seas and at least our resort has lovely bars on the waterfront for a few beers in the sun. The hotel we stay in hosts us and one other couple. The local guide tells us that we should expect to fly to Luxembourg the next day and then Heathrow via Paris the day after. It sounds like a plan but worryingly, we have no paperwork to support these travel arrangements. It’s a really uncomfortable feeling and the stress levels are clear in all of us but we put on a good show of dealing with it. I think we are all comforted by knowing that we are in this together and we trust that we will look after one other. The experience is bonding.

Several phone calls the next morning get us through to a lady from our travel company called Emily and she quickly responds to our request and sends us the flight details, airline locator number and flight numbers and using the hotel Wi-Fi we manage to check in on-line for the first flight and book ourselves a hotel for the night in Luxembourg.

There is a strong hope that we don’t get stuck there; the budget would be severely stretched by the cost of a lockdown there. The airport in Sal is chaotic. The staff are in masks and gloves, the travellers are edgy and arguments at the check-in desks add to the heated atmosphere. The departure lounge is full. No-one is able to settle for long ,wanting to be first in the queue for their flight in case the plane is overbooked. Bizarrely, when we queue for the plane we are asked to keep 2 metres apart, everyone fully aware that once on the plane we will be rammed in like sardines. In spite of all the stresses, we are delighted to be on the plane and on our way to Europe. The flight goes without incident and also without food; the planes are only carrying water and some biscuits.

In Luxembourg, the total insanity of the whole thing continues as our taxi to the hotel gets lost. In the other taxi, they break down twice and have to get out and push! Once at the hotel the nice young man at reception tries to deal with the difficulty of 7 rooms all booked in the same name having been rejected by the computer, processing our passports and getting us our room keys whilst the hotel manager berates us for all standing in the reception area. ‘Only 3 people at a time’ he says ‘or the police will arrest us’. He cannot believe that those rules were not in place where we came from or in Britain. We are too tired to argue or to move; the priority being getting to bed for another early start.

Next day we arrive at an eerily deserted airport. Outside, it starts to snow. The whole thing is beyond surreal. Unexpectedly our flight boards on time and is full, of people but no food. We sit on the runway as they de-ice the plane for take off, watching the snow through the window and feeling very thankful that this country is not brought to a halt by a sprinkling of the white stuff. Next stop Paris and an equally deserted Charles De Gaulle airport. We have 8 hours to kill here and even though there are still no guarantees of the next flight, we all have some hope of actually getting back home. The departure board reads a long list of flights cancelled but ours slowly creeps round. With a tangible surge of relief we board and the last leg of our epic journey gets underway. I’d love that to be the end of the tribulations but of course there is always more.

We make it home but our bags don’t so we queue in Heathrow to fill out lost luggage forms and say our farewell to each other. Hugs all round are well deserved but we make do with elbow bumps and I waste no time getting a taxi back to the hotel where my car has been sitting for 7 days. The gravity of the situation at home hits me as I find the hotel where my car is parked in complete lockdown; 6 burly security guards on the front entrance. Stopping on the way home for a coffee and a break would be sensible but I drive straight back and fall into the house for the glass of wine that has had my name on it for the last 3 days. Two days later we are in lockdown.

By Sue Hoddell

Twenty Years

PLAY HARD, WORK HARD

Twenty Years

2020 has been bizarre. From wildfires destroying much of Australia’s landscape, to floods which devastated much of South Wales to these unprecedented times – all within a handful of months.

It’s impossible to forget the pain and suffering so many have unfortunately had to face this year alone, with barely five months under our belts.

I can’t help, however, but contemplate the last twenty years of my life and hope for better days ahead. As dramatic as it seems, I think we’d all like for this year to be done with.

Twenty years ago, the world was celebrating a new Millennium. The world entered the twenty-first century, and within ten years, leapt to heights not many could predict.

I was born in May of 2000. Which means I’ll be twenty this month. But what a weird twenty years of life to have lived. Countless events shocking the world, to now, living through a global pandemic.

People my age have seen so much, and yet our lives are barely even beginning yet. We’ve seen war and terror attacks on our screens; we’ve seen political upheaval (and countless arguments over such upheaval); we’ve seen technological advancements so vast it’s often seen as surprising that I lived through a period of life where I didn’t have an iPhone.

Twenty years is a long time – but it’s also not. Not really. My life is only now really beginning, but I still don’t have many life experiences. Twenty seems so old, but also so young all in one go.

A few weeks ago. I was announced as the new Editor in Chief of my university’s newspaper. And yet in that same week I was hoping my Mam could ring the doctor for me. It seems so mind-boggling to me that I am gaining these opportunities to advance my career, but I still feel like a child.

There’s an expectation that by twenty years old you should have your life in order. That being in University or having a job or a family should mean that you’re an adult. But it doesn’t feel that way, really.

It feels a little as though I’m playing House. I know what I’m doing when it comes to Uni and the newspaper, but then, somehow, I still feel as though everything else is a big guessing game.

I’ve seen so much change in twenty years. Enough change that my ancestors would likely feel my twenty years was more than three lifetimes. Twenty years which feel like centuries, but also like no time at all.

I mean this generally of course – my lifetime is only so different to that of any other twenty-year-old. But these past twenty years have been rough, no?

It’s not all bad, of course. Although we’ve had some terrible times, we’ve had some advancements, too.

Opinions are evolving, and acceptance is more readily available. It would be naïve of me to say there is no evil in the world, or that prejudice is non-existent; but it is possible to say that the world has changed for the better and more people are having open discussions and checking their own prejudices.

Hard topics are being discussed, and topics such as women’s rights and reproductive health; mental health; racial stereotyping; gender norms; LGBTQIA+ rights, and the mental wellbeing of men are reaching new audiences.

Twenty years ago, it seems unlikely a popular television programme on a big American network, such as ‘Brooklyn Nine-Nine’, would have such open discussion about sexuality, racial prejudice, sexual harassment and even male mental health. The show takes place in a New York police department – an unlikely background for such open discussions to be had twenty years ago.

Twenty years ago, the world was a different place. It’s not the first time this has been the case, and it won’t be the last. But it has been remarkable to see. The world still isn’t a great place, but by some means it’s a better place than it was twenty years ago.

I don’t know what the next twenty years may bring. I don’t know whether the world will have bettered itself or deteriorated. Honestly, I don’t know if the world will still be here, given the threat of World War III at the beginning of this year.

Twenty years is a long time in the grand scheme of things.

I wonder what the children born in 2020 will have experienced by the time they reach twenty years old

 

 

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