Mallt Williams – The Lady Who Saved Plaid Cymru

Mallt Williams – The Lady Who Saved Plaid Cymru

Translation of an address given by Arwel Vittle at the National Eisteddfod on 6 August 2026

Introduction  

When Gwen Angharad Gruffudd and I set out to write a book on the establishment of Plaid Genedlaethol Cymru a year or two ago, we were both aware that there were previously untold stories about the contributions of some key individuals in the history of Plaid Cymru that had not received due attention. And – as is painfully common – many of these individuals were women.

As we delved into the history it became clear that various women had not been given due credit for their part in the founding of the Party. One of the most important – if not the most important – certainly in terms of Plaid Cymru’s survival as a viable party was Mallt Williams, the self-styled Lady of Llandudoch.

I am a big believer in acknowledging sources of research so before starting this talk today, I need to acknowledge and thank a number of people who helped me indirectly and directly in preparing the material.

Firstly, Marion Löffler, who led the way with her article ‘Mallt Williams – A Romantic Nationalist[1] and in her subsequent studies of early twentieth century Welsh cultural and political movements. I am also grateful to the local historian of this area, Hedd Ladd Lewis, for sharing his knowledge and research on Mallt and also his family connections with her through his grandmother. A word of thanks also to E. Wyn James, who prompted me to think more deeply about the contributions of women in the early history of Plaid Cymru and other stories that I will refer to in the course of this lecture. Finally – thanks to my co-author of Dros Gymru’n Gwlad, Gwen Angharad Gruffudd, who spent hours researching the archives and found treasures among Mallt Williams’ correspondence and her flamboyant writing!

Background

Alice Matilda Langland Williams, to give her baptismal name, was born in 1867, the daughter of a Breconshire doctor.

Looking at the archive it becomes clear that she had several names – and pseudonyms – there was Alice Matilda Williams, Alice Langland Williams, and Mallt Williams, and Lady Williams not to mention Mallt Merch Brychan. But she was most commonly known as Mallt, and we will refer to her as Mallt today.

Mallt grew up in a non-Welsh speaking household at Aberclydach House near Talybont-on-Usk. The family had a good reputation in the area and were reportedly of high-born descent, which according to Marion Löffler “certainly influenced Mallt’s perception of her role in Welsh society”. Her eldest brother, Howell Price Williams, rose to fame in 1910 as one of the first white men to travel across the African continent, and her second brother, William Retlaw Jefferson, was an editor of antiquarian magazines. It was however with her younger brother and sister, Frederick George and Cate ‘Gwenffreda’, that Mallt developed the closest relationship. As a young girl, through local family connections, she came under the influence of the cultural and social circle of Lady Llanofer, known as Gwenynen Gwent.

She was quite a character, photographed dressed as a thirteenth-century Welsh princess and was the author of historical novels set in romantic Celtic Wales. Mallt and her sister Gwenffreda were probably ‘Y Dau Wynne’, authors of two novels One of the Royal Celts, published in 1889, A Maid of Cymru: A Patriotic Romance, published in 1901.

Marion Löffler suggests that Mallt was the actual author of the second of these, A Maid of Cymru. The content of this novel is worth noting because it gives us a picture of the ideology and idealism of the young Mallt Williams.

The novel tells the story of Tangwystl Hywel, the heroine  of A Maid of Cymru, who is a descendant of Brychan Brycheiniog and the daughter of the last “old house” in south-east Breconshire. She revives an eisteddfod in the area (presided over by the archdruid Hwfa Môn) and sponsors local poets. She refuses to marry the man she loves because he is part of the English industrial establishment that is destroying her area. Instead, she agrees to marry Hoel Cadwgan, who comes from an old Welsh lineage, on condition that he adopts the cause of Wales and the Welsh language. Under her guidance, Hoel relearns Welsh and comes to understand his part in the valley as a nobleman who treats his land according to the traditions of his country. Hoel Cadwgan’s wedding gift to Tangwystl is a building and a financial gift for a school harpists, but she dies before she can realise her dream. Her final message is to Hoel: “Gwasanaetha Gymru!” (“Serve Wales!”)

Myriad movements

The failure of Cymru Fydd, the movement within the British Liberal Party to win home rule for Wales, in 1896 was a heavy blow to the supporters of Wales and the Welsh language, and Welsh self-government receded as a political issue in the early twentieth century.

If Welsh identity was in retreat, one might think that the reverse was true when looking at the myriad movements established in the first decades of the twentieth century. Those years saw the creation of numerous Welsh cultural societies, guilds and groups.

Urdd y Delyn (Order of the Harp) was founded by O.M. Edwards in 1896. This was an early attempt to create a youth movement, which was eventually achieved by his son, Ifan ab Owen Edwards, when he founded Urdd Gobaith Cymru in 1922. Members of Urdd y Delyn would speak Welsh, learn about Welsh history, play the harp and sing Welsh folk songs and adhere to Welsh Christian ideals.

Among these movements was also Urdd y Ddraig Goch (Order of the Red Dragon)  formed in 1902, with the aim of promoting the Welsh language, and trying to get parents among all strata of society to speak and nurture the language in their households; another group was Cymdeithas y Ddraig Goch (1902), which wanted to ‘support the wearing of clothes of Welsh material, and purchase of items made in Wales.

One common name among the founders of all these movements was lady Mallt Williams. Mallt was involved in most of these movements and societies in some way or another. O.M. Edwards, for example, said that Mallt was mainly responsible for the establishment of Urdd y Delyn.

Mallt’s main concern was the survival of the Welsh language, and she wanted to realise her dream of seeing a Welsh speaking Wales, and placed a great responsibility for that on the mothers of Wales. But the nobility had also turned their backs on the language and a new generation of nobles was needed to make up for those failures.

She expressed this in an article entitled ‘Welsh Women’s Mission in the Twentieth Century’.

The mothers of the Boneddigion, with their great social advantages,
should lead the way with nurseries where the nurses would be Welshspeaking, where Welsh toys and picture books would find an honoured place, and national emblems, mottoes arid flags adorn the walls and school-rooms…

Long before Urdd y Delyn ended, Mallt and Gwyneth Vaughan, the Anglo-Welsh novelist, had founded another society, Undeb y Ddraig Goch (Union of the Red Dragon). The aim of this association was to help in the work of making Wales ‘more Celtic and consequently more beautiful’.  This Union had a constitution ‘designed with a view to enable Boneddigion and Gwerin alike to join in.’ Between 1901 and 1914, Undeb y Ddraig Goch held public meetings and established branches in Cardiff, Swansea, Aberystwyth and Bangor. Mallt became secretary to the Union in 1903, and was relentless in her efforts to attract patrons and supporters, among them Principal John Rhŷs of Jesus College, Oxford, Owen Rhoscomyl and the Howells of Nanteos.

Another young people’s organisation created by Mallt was the Byddin Cymru (Army of Wales), and on the pages of Cymru’r Plant from 1911 onwards she ran a group called the Ysbiwyr y Frenhines (The Queen’s Spies) in the Army, a group of young people who pledged to serve Wales with their hearts, minds, tongues and hands. Despite the sinister name, the Queen in question in the melodramatic title was the Welsh language. Her ‘spies’ organised ceremonies and romantic rallies, where new members would receive red dragon flags, with a recommendation that they wear a green shirt and a red scarf at the events.

Supporting the Union of Welsh Societies

Ultimately, Mallt Williams’s greatest contribution to Welsh cultural and political nationalism may have been financial. From the turn of the century onward, he gave generously to societies and organizations throughout the country. One of these was Undeb y Cymdeithasau Cymraeg (Union of Welsh Societies), the most important of the cultural nationalism movements in this period. It came into existence in 1913 when it was seen that the numerous cultural groups needed a united voice.

There was a general feeling that Welsh language and culture was losing ground. Welsh chapels were turning to using English, and complaints were  heard that Welsh children no longer understood the language of their parents, t sales of Welsh books and periodicals had fallen sharply since the 1890s and many felt that Welsh was no longer the language of public life. To a large extent, therefore, the formation of the various societies was a response to the growth in Englishness.

The result of all this was the formal establishment of Undeb y Cymdeithasau Cymraeg in November 1913. OM Edwards was elected president and Arthen Evans general secretary. OM was later succeeded as president by ET John, the politician and industrialist who was very supportive of efforts to spread Welsh and Celtic identity and movements to resurrect the idea of self-government for Wales.

According to the constitution of the Union of Welsh Societies, its objectives were:

  1. To be a medium for consultation and co-operation between Welsh Societies.
  2. To sponsor the Welsh language and its culture, and to ensure that they have their due place in all circles of Welsh life.
  3. To cultivate the national spirit, and to resist all movements that oppose that.

Mallt supported the Union of Welsh Societies both practically and materially and was a vice president of the Union. But Mallt for all her support probably agreed with various other younger nationalists such as HR Jones, Lewis Valentine and DJ Williams that the Union was lacking in political engagement.

DJ Williams expressed his frustration with the Union’s lack of political nous in a letter to Ambrose Bebb in 1924 referring to it as the ‘Royal Standbacks of the Union of Welsh Societies’.

Celtic Links

Mallt and her brother and sister were also very interested in relations with other Celtic countries.

From the 1890s onwards up to the Great War, Mallt and her brother and sister attended the Pan-Celtic Congress, and then after the war when the Celtic Congress was re-established in 1917 they were among its preeminent enthusiasts and supporters. All three travelled to Scotland, Brittany and Ireland attending the Mod in the Scottish Highlands and the Gaelic League’s Oireachtas.

She also got to know the Breton patriot and poet Taldir.

François Jaffrennou’s bardic name was Taldir ab Hernin. He was an editor and Breton nationalist and active in the Pan-Celtic movement. He wrote mainly in Breton and published several volumes of poetry. Taldir founded the Gorsedd of Brittany and translated ‘Hen Wlad fy Nhadau’ into Breton – ‘Bro Gozh ma Zadoú’, which became the national anthem of Brittany.

Mallt and her sister Gwenffreda are referred to in the poem ‘An Diou Vag’ composed by Taldir after his visit to the Cardiff National Eisteddfod in 1899, and published in Gwerziou gant Abherve ha Taldir in the same year.

Over the next few years the Celtic Congress would meet annually in Edinburgh, Bangor, the Isle of Man, Brittany and Dublin. A prominent figure in the Congress was Agnes O’Farrelly of the Gaelic League. She was president of the first meeting of the Irish Volunteers’ women’s section, Cumann na mBan, and was a close friend of Roger Casement who was executed by Britain on a charge of treason for his part in the Easter Rising in 1916. Moreover, a number of prominent Irish language supporters and activists supported the Congress, including Douglas Hyde, the first President of the Irish Free State and one of the pioneers of the Irish renaissance at the turn of the century. And in the midst of all this, with her financial support for the Congress and her great enthusiasm, Mallt Williams was full of encouragement to any movement that wanted to promote the cause of Wales and the Welsh language.

So she was very interested in making connections with all the Celtic countries. But Ireland was the biggest influence by far.

Significance of Ireland

In 1904 she wrote to Padraig Pearse, the nationalist and campaigner for the Irish language, congratulating him on the establishment of the Irish School on Isle of Tawin in County Galway, adding that she hoped that more Irish sons would not need to emigrate to earn a living, ‘Ireland never needed her Gaelic speaking children more than she does today’.

The history of Tawin School is interesting in terms of the link between the Irish language movement and the wider political republican movement.

Roger Casement was an Irish human rights activist and nationalist and a great supporter of the Celtic Congress, and as mentioned previously, he was hanged by the British Government in 1916 for his part in the Easter Rising.  Casement visited Tawin in 1904 to support parents on the island who had withdrawn their children from the island’s national school in protest that they were not being taught Irish.  The islanders raised enough money for to build their own Irish-medium school. Padraig Pearse, another of Ireland’s most prominent nationalists, was also extremely supportive of their cause through the Gaelic League, and the school building was also used during the summer holidays as a Gaelic college. This was not the only link between the Tawin school and the national movement in Ireland, as Eamon de Valera spent three summers on Tawin as Director of the Gaelic League Summer School from 1911-13. He later took part in the Easter Rising, and was a political leader in the War of Independence and subsequently became Taoiseach of the Irish Republic.

Mallt was a regular visitor to Ireland and many of her letters are written on the paper of the grandest hotels in Dublin. She travelled over the Irish Sea even during turbulent times such as the months after the Easter rising in 1916. When negotiations were held on an agreement to end the Irish War of Independence in 1921 Mallt expressed her utter disdain for David Lloyd George, the erstwhile hero of Cymru Fydd, but who was now British prime minister and leading negotiations with Sinn Féin and the leaders of the IRA.

Mallt stated that she was familiar with some of the leaders of the republican movement in Ireland and that they were also of the same opinion:

I know some of the Leaders. All the Patriots (I think) can’t trust L.G. He’s never been a friend of Ireland.

The history of the Tawin school struggle shows the clear link between the language movement in Ireland and the political movement for independence. And, like many other Welsh nationalists at the time, this had a strong influence on Mallt Williams’ political thinking. She now thought that the way to preserve the Welsh language was by gaining political power and freedom for Wales. And her views would find expression in writing – and more importantly – materially through her financial contributions to political nationalism that would continue for the rest of her life.

Death of Gwenffreda and move to Pantsaeson

In 1914, Mallt’s sister, Gwenffreda, died. OM Edwards’s comments in Cymru’r Plant show how much of a personal blow it was for Mallt to lose someone who was on the same wavelength as her in so many ways.

Some years prior Mallt had moved from Brecon to the Llanarthne area of Carmarthenshire, but shortly after her sister’s death her brother Frederick bought Plas Pantsaeson between Moylgrove and St Dogmaels in Pembrokeshire, and Mallt was invited to live there with him and his wife.

From then on, Mallt along with Frederick and his wife and children lived their dream as a distinctive Welsh gentry in their mansion in north Pembrokeshire.

Mallt lived a very frugal life and was an extremely disciplined vegetarian and follower of the Christian Scientists, who believe that healing comes through prayer and spiritual understanding rather than medicine.

Supporting the new Welsh Nationalist Party

In 1925 the aspirations of a new generation of nationalists led by individuals such as Saunders Lewis, Lewis Valentine and HR Jones came to fruition and the emergence of national movements north and south were united to form a Welsh Nationalist Party – Plaid Genedlaethol Cymru.

From the outset, Mallt was unwavering in her support for the new Party.

 

HR Jones, the new party’s organiser, had also been an organiser of Undeb y Cymdeithasau Cymraeg, and probably knew Mallt through this connection. It was no surprise then that one of his first steps, was to contact Mallt and invite her to become one of the vice-presidents along with Saunders Lewis and Meuryn, editor of Yr Herald Gymraeg

 

It is interesting to see her name on the list of officials as the Vice President of Plaid Genedlaethol Cymru. As we have seen, Mallt had been involved in  countless Welsh societies since the beginning of the century, and would have been enthused by any organisation that campaigned for a measure of political autonomy for Wales. It was therefore natural for her to be extremely supportive of any attempt to establish an independent national party, and as one of the few people who had the financial means to support these efforts, her support would be key to securing the future of the new party.

 

She was pleased to accept HR’s invitation and considered it a great honour. Her response reveals the emphasis she placed on Wales turning its back on England and strengthening links with the other Celtic nations, and also her emphasis on giving the Welsh language a central place:

 Wales is indeed standing at the crossroads.

  • We must turn our eyes away from London.

2) We must make Welsh compulsory  in all schools, from Holyhead to Cardiff (as the English language is now)

3) We must follow the national movements in the other countries, and exchange ideas with the Irish and the Bretons and the Scots.

She was pleased to hear of the new party’s intention to distribute thousands of pamphlets and send speakers across Wales to spread the message. To that end, she offered to pay for the printing of leaflets similar to those published by the Scottish National League, urging HR not to publish long and lengthy leaflets – ‘they should be short and to the point’, she asserted. (Indispensable comms advice for political parties in every age!).

In another letter to the organiser, Mallt appealed to HR’s desire to see the names of towns and villages changed to Welsh versions, this was sure to receive a warm welcome from the party organiser, particularly given HR’s role in changing the name of his home village from Ebenezer to Deiniolen. Mallt urged the Blaid Genedlaethol to encourage Holyhead Council to follow the example of Kingstown Council in Ireland that had recently changed the name of the port town to Dun Laoghaire.

Through the Celtic Congress, Mallt facilitated links with the national movement in Ireland. In addition, she urged HR, who had drawn great inspiration from the struggle of the Irish, to visit the Emerald Isle, offering to pay part of his travel expenses there. Nevertheless, she considered the Anglo-Irish Treaty, which meant dividing the island into North and South and keeping an oath of allegiance to the king, as a betrayal of the republican cause:

You should go to Ireland, in 1926, to study the Republican idea there. I shall be content to give a present of five pounds, towards your expenses there, and to give you a letter of introduction. I cannot write about the latest betrayal. It’s too terrible. Poor Ireland!

Indispensable Support

A quick glance at the names of the party’s financial contributors in its first year shows that. Mallt Williams is the most generous contributor of all, giving £50, which today amounts to £4,000. In comparison, Lewis Valentine contributed £1 – although that was a generous contribution for someone on a Baptist minister’s salary in the 1920s!

Second on the list in terms of generosity is Lord Ashbourne, a supporter of the Irish language society, Conradh na Gailege, and patron of one of Ireland’s premier jewels in camogie, a version of the Irish sport of hurling for girls. By virtue of the various connections, therefore, a trip was arranged for HR Jones and a number of other Welsh nationalists to visit the country and to meet various leading figures of the republican movement there.

There is no doubt, however, that Y Ddraig Goch, the party’r journal, would not have seen the light of day, and that the Party would not have survived the early years without financial support. The key sponsor in this again was Mallt Williams. She contributed £40 to the newspaper’s production costs, a significant amount in the period equivalent to £3,000 today.

She boosted Plaid Cymru’s finances by donating hundreds of pounds over a number of years, and promoted the circulation of Y Ddraig Goch by buying between 20 and 400 copies a month for her own distribution. It would not be an exaggeration to say that if it were not for her financial support, Plaid Genedlaethol Cymru would not have continued. Indeed, Saunders Lewis believed that her donations saved the movement.

Campaigning advice

She declined, however, an invitation to chair a session at Plaid’s first summer school at Machynlleth in 1926, because she felt her spoken Welsh was not good enough.

And despite being subsequently invited on several occasions to speak at  the party’s Summer Schools she declined. Notwithstanding her unflinching support for the national party, living in isolation coincided with Mallt’s growing desire to withdraw from the public stage. Evidence of this is that she published her articles and letters in Y Ddraig Goch and the Welsh Nationalist, often under pseudonyms such as Tangwystl, Merch Brychan or Gwyliwr.

But regardless of her public shyness she offered a flurry of advice to the movement in regular correspondence.

The working class had to be won, in her opinion – ‘No hope for the future, if you (Plaid Genedlaethol Cymru) can’t change the minds of the People.’ She wanted Plaid Cymru to prioritise gaining ground in Glamorganshire:

We must win this county (the largest, and the most populous in Wales)… To strive there, the Plaid must practise the language of the alien (woe to me! and with a lot of Welsh, too) as the Gaelic League, does in the English parts of Ireland. Win them over to nationalism first, and it will be easier to win them over to the Welsh language.

Mallt was also keen for Plaid Genedlaethol Cymru to broaden its appeal by setting up an English-language magazine to ‘awaken the Anglo-Welsh’.

The content of her letters – brief and in dramatic handwriting – reveal a colourful character, espousing anti-imperialist nationalism. She was sympathetic to the national movement that was beginning to gain strength in India under the leadership of Mohandas Gandhi, and was a regular visitor to Ireland, and had forged close ties there with the language movement and prominent republicans. As a result, she pressed the leadership of Plaid Genedlaethol Cymru to liaise with organisations in both Ireland and Scotland. They needed to be enlightened, says Mallt, about the struggle in Wales: ‘People in the other countries don’t know anything about Plaid.’

She also lamented the role of women in the national struggle. She wrote to HR in November 1925 regretting the apolitical nature of Welsh women:

I saw that there was a Women’s Meeting of the Labour Movement (in Caernarfon) the day before. How can PGC win Welsh women to the language? At present they are on their knees before the English, much worse than Welsh men. In Ireland the women are more political than the men.

Support for local causes and WC Elvet Thomas’ visit to Plas Pantsaeson

Despite her generous donations and frequent correspondence, Mallt was unknown to many of the party’s grassroots leaders and members. JE Jones says

… although I corresponded with her hundreds of times, I only saw her once – at Cardiff station an elderly but lively lady in old-fashioned clothes.

More memorable is another description of her that appeared in Baner ac Amserau Cymru, where WC Elvet Thomas is quoted as accompanying a group of Urdd boys on a pilgrimage to St Davids but who decided to drop by Pantsaeson to meet the famous Lady.

Before mentioning the visit, it’s worth saying a quick word in passing about WC Elvet Thomas.

He was born in Fishguard but the family moved to Cardiff when he was a child. He later became an inspirational Welsh teacher at Cathays High School for Boys for forty years and instilled a love of the Welsh language and its culture among various pupils at Cathays School, including Bobi Jones, Edward Millward and Geraint Jarman.[2]

There is a reference to a pivotal event in Elvet Thomas’ life in one of Geraint Jarman’s songs, ‘Strydoedd Cul Pontcanna’ (‘Narrow Streets of Pontcanna’), where he speaks of ‘the slap of growing up a Welshman’.

The background to this is an incident that happened to the young Elvet Thomas when he was an eight-year-old boy playing in the street in Canton with his younger brother. A woman came up to the boys and asked: ‘Were you two talking Welsh?’ ‘Yes’, he answered. ‘Well, take that!’ she said; and gave him a hard slap across his cheek, and walked away. But the slap had a contrary effect to that intended, because as Thomas says in his autobiography, “indeed she had taught me a lesson. From that day forth, I knew that the Welsh language had enemies.” Elvet Thomas grew up to be a committed Welsh patriot and champion of the Welsh language in Cardiff.

 

But to return to Mallt Williams, here is the story of the visit to Plas Pantsaeson by the young nationalists, in the words of Elvet Thomas himself:

When I and some of the Urdd boys were on a pilgrimage to St Davids in 1940 we stayed one night in the village of St Dogmaels. The next day, on the road from St Dogmaels to Fishguard, it was decided to call at Plas Pant y Saeson to pay tribute to Lady Mallt. Having arrived at the mansion and conveyed our message to the maid, the Lady’s sister-in-law came to the door. We were told that there was a possibility that we could see the Lady.

We were invited in.

We were very surprised to see how strange and cold the place was. On a table near the front door was an old harp similar to the Scottish ‘clarsagh’, and a card tied to the harp saying that the harp was the property of some Irish king. We were put to sit in  a spacious room to await the arrival of the Lady.

We felt that we were waiting for the arrival of a queen.

At last she entered – a comparatively small and thin woman, very frail in appearance.   

It seemed to me that she was very aware of her appearance.

She was extremely shy. She rushed towards us to greet us with the words ‘Henffych well, croesaw i’r unig blas Cymraeg yn sir Penfro.’ (‘Welcome to the only Welsh mansion in Pembrokeshire’)       

Her dress was very odd. She wore a long white dress down to her feet, the robe fringed with green and red (Welsh colours). On her head she wore a red felt hat tied with a green ribbon under her chin and a green feather in the hat… She was of ‘noble blood’. Wales and the Celtic nations were her main interest. She felt it was her “privilege and duty as one of high status to elevate Wales.”

Her Welsh was very fragmented but would on no account turn to English. It was sometimes difficult to understand her Welsh, but she stuck resolutely to Welsh, and she cared that everyone around her spoke the language. She loved Wales and the Welsh language passionately. And was very generous in spirit, but expected respect in return, as was proper for a lady. Her last words to us when we were leaving were ‘Yn iach y boch’.

The maid in this story was probably Louvain Ladd – grandmother of

Hedd Ladd Lewis, local historian of this area. Louvain was employed by Mallt

in Pantsaeson and thought highly of the lady.[3]

Mallt was a source of constant advice to her maid. One notable piece of advice can be found in a note Louvain received from Mallt on the occasion of her marriage to Charles Ladd, in which Mallt wishes the married couple ‘health and long life and goodness’ in their new life, and for them to “fear God and to love Wales and the Welsh language”. She concludes with a piece of health and nutritional advice saying that Charles should remember that there is not a single young woman in St Dogmaels who can bake vegetables as well as Louvain, “in their own juices, with their vitamins preserved and not thrown away”. 

It is also said that at the time of the Second World War Mallt, as she was a vegetarian, had no use for the meat coupons she received, and so distributed her coupons among some of the most needy families in the area, especially those with relatives fighting in the war.

She generously supported local events, sponsored local eisteddfodau and was a generous and considerate employer.

Her support to the Party and its members also extended to the personal. She gave HR Jones health advice in the face of his physical weakness, recommending that he should drink lemon juice in hot or cold water every night. There was a remarkable power in a lemon that makes a weak body healthy, she claimed. But when this did nothing to improve HR’s health, she paid for a voyage for him to the Mediterranean area in 1927 in another generous effort to improve the Party organiser’s health.

The Eagle Tower, the Bombing School and Protecting the Preseli

Throughout the years, until her death in 1950, Mallt continued to support the Party financially and in private and public correspondence.

A more unusual contribution to the party was her donation in the spring of 1932.

The cause of the donation was the Blaid Genedlaethol’s first act of direct action, which in several respects preceded the more serious action at Penyberth four years later. The background is that the  British Government’s Ministry of Works refused permission to fly the Red Dragon flag alongside the Union Jack on St David’s Day. It was decided to organise a symbolic act of protest by Party members to draw attention to the injustice. It was arranged for four Plaid members – JE Jones, WRP George, EV Stanley Jones and Wil Roberts – to climb the steps of the Eagle Tower at Caernarfon Castle and take down the Union Jack flag and raise the Red Dragon in its place, stapling the ropes at the pole.

 

The giant Red Dragon which replaced the Union Jack at Caernarfon Castle was a gift from Mallt Williams, who supported the action wholeheartedly.

Indeed, she was responsible for coining the term ‘Bombing School’ to describe the proposed Air Force camp at Penyberth – the cause of the Blaid Genedlaethol’s most notable direct action campaign in 1936, when the huts on the site were burned down and Lewis Valentine, Saunders Lewis and DJ Williams were imprisoned for nine months as a result.

JE Jones, Plaid Cymru’s Secretary at the time, said:

one day I received a postcard from Lady Mallt Williams expressing her support ‘for your campaign against the establishment of a Bombing School in Llŷn’.

And that, says JE, was how the term was adopted to describe the War Office’s plan at Penyberth.

That is not Mallt’s only contribution to opposing the establishment of army camps on Welsh soil and in Welsh speaking communities.

Many of you will be familiar with the history of the Battle of the Preseli after World War II.

At that time in 1947, 200 families in the Welsh communities of north Pembrokeshire were at risk of being evicted from their homes in the Preseli mountains to make way for a military training ground after the Second World War under Clement Atlee’s Labour government. The campaigners of north Pembrokeshire, led by radical and resolute non-conformist ministers such as Joseph James and Parri Roberts were able to win that battle and protect the Welsh language community there.

But a fact that is perhaps not so well known is that the War Office had been eyeing the Preseli as a tank training ground for nearly a decade. Because Mallt Williams published an open appeal in Y Ddraig Goch in 1938 asking for support to stop the intention to turn the mountains into a tank depot. Her appeal is worth quoting in full:

Preselau Urgency

        Preselau stands to the imagination of man over all that is most desirable in West Wales – a lonely, sacred and religious land from the Stone Age to the Age of Christ. The bluestones of the inner circle of Stonehenge were carved from the rocks of Preselau.

The moorland of Preselau is dotted with the ruins of former civilisations. Here is the burial place of Carn Ingli, where St Brynach had a cell, and here is the cemetery of Nanhwyfar, where she was buried. It was while riding over these mountains that Pantycelyn composed the famous hymn “Dros y bryniau tywyll niwlog.”  

But for us today, the main value of this area is that it is the wellspring of the Welsh language in Pembrokeshire.

Lord Merthyr and Pembrokeshire County Council are defending South Pembrokeshire against the War Office’s intention to occupy 6,000 acres to establish a Tank Depot and destroy all the relics of the past there.

BUT WHO WILL DEFEND THE PRESELAU, THE WELLSPRING OF THE WELSH LANGUAGE, AND THE HOME OF ALL WILD ELEGANCE?       

Death in October 1950

Her beloved brother Fredrick died in 1945, and just 5 years later Mallt herself died in October 1950, at the age of 83. Her body was cremated in Pontypridd, and her ashes scattered in Llansantffraid cemetery, Breconshire.

In his tribute after her death, Plaid Cymru’s president at the time, Gwynfor Evans, was extremely appreciative of her contribution:

One cannot think of her without remembering, and remembering with deep gratitude, her generous and consistent support of the movement throughout the years.

Saunders Lewis also believed that the movement would not have survived the early years without her donations. It would not be an exaggeration to say, to concur with his view, that she saved the party.

Back in 1936, JE Jones wrote to her expressing gratitude for the generosity of her contribution to the party’s St David’s Day Fund, and his words sum up the extent of Plaid Cymru’s debt to Mallt Williams:

…we as a Party owe you more than words can express; as does Wales. I cannot but hope that our work here in the Blaid is worthy of as generous a support as yours, and that Wales will soon be a free nation, a nation with self-respect, a happy and successful nation. When that day comes, your support in the early days of the Nationalist Party will have made that possible.

Mallt was, in the words of Marion Löffler, a romantic nationalist, but she was also through her political advice and crucial financial donations a practical nationalist who turned her words into action. And as Plaid Cymru takes up the reins of government for the first time in Wales it is very appropriate for us to remember, at the National Eisteddfod in her adopted county, the indispensable contribution of Mallt Williams, Lady of Llandudoch to the cause of Wales and the Welsh language.


[1] See Marion Löffler’s indispensable article, ‘A Romantic Nationalist: The Life of Mallt Williams’, Planet, 121 (February/March 1997), 58–66

[2] W. C. Elvet Thomas, Tyfu’n Gymro (Gwasg Gomer, 1972). The story of ‘The Slap’ along with the contribution of WC Elvet Thomas to Welsh life in Cardiff can also be found in E Wyn James’ inormative article in Y Dinesydd, June 2020, available at https://orca.cardiff.ac.uk/id/eprint/132371/1/%27Canlyniad%20y%20Slap%27%2C%20Colofn%20%27Llys%20a%20Llan%27%2C%20Y%20Dinesydd%2C%20Mehefin%202020.pdf

[3] I am very indebted to Hedd Ladd Lewis for sharing details of his family connections with Plas Pantsaeson, along with his extensive knowledge of Mallt’s life and ideas locally and beyond, as well as the photograph of Plas Pantsaeson included in this presentation.

Tribute to Phyllis Ellis 1939 – 2026

Tribute to Phyllis Ellis

by Siân Gwenllian M.S.

During the Senedd election count, as it became increasingly clear that Plaid Cymru was on course to become the largest party in the Senedd for the first time in our history, I and candidates across Wales felt a profound sense of responsibility.

But alongside the intensity of that moment, there was also reflection. Many of us found ourselves thinking about those who had built the movement over decades, long before government felt within reach.

Some of those people were not there to see the result. One of them was Phyllis Ellis of Penisarwaun.

It is deeply poignant that Phyllis died on 18 April 2026, just over a fortnight before she might have seen Plaid Cymru form a government.

That timing was felt strongly by those of us who knew her and knew of her contribution.

Phyllis was, quite simply, a stalwart of her community. She was actively involved in the life of Penisarwaun and beyond right up until the end – serving as Chair of the community hall committee, Chair of the village Eisteddfod committee, a member of the local school governing body, and a community councillor on Cyngor Cymuned Llanddeiniolen.

She was also a committed member of Ymddiriedolaeth Nant Gwrtheyrn, supporting the work of the Welsh language and heritage centre on the Llŷn Peninsula – a cause she cared deeply about.

Her life in education reflected the same sense of service. As former headmistress of Ysgol Babanod Maesincla in Caernarfon, she dedicated her career to children and learning.

After qualifying as a teacher, she worked in Dartford before returning home to Wales – part of a generation who had to leave to find work but never lost their connection to home.

Phyllis’s commitment to Plaid Cymru spanned decades. In 1967 she became committee secretary of the Arfon constituency, and was an active member when Dafydd Wigley was first elected MP in 1974.

Her connection to the party began even earlier, attending meetings with her mother as a child – the beginning of a lifelong commitment. She also held senior roles including deputy national treasurer and chair of the conference steering committee.

In 1972 she was elected National President of Merched Plaid, and in 1974 she became one of the first women elected to Llanddeiniolen Community Council. She would, I think, have taken quiet pride in seeing a Plaid Cymru Senedd group in which women now make up more than 60% of Members. That change is part of a long continuum – shaped by women like Phyllis, who helped create space for others through persistence and commitment over many years.

In March 2024 she was honoured with a lifetime achievement award at our annual conference. It was a fitting recognition of a lifetime of steady, often quiet, but unwavering contribution.

Phyllis did not live to see Plaid Cymru enter government. But I believe she understood, perhaps better than most, that political change is rarely defined by a single moment, but rather it is built slowly, through years of effort.

As newly elected Members of the Senedd, we remember, with humility, the foundations laid by people like Phyllis Ellis, whose contribution made this moment possible.

This week, a diligent and deeply respected woman was laid to rest. She was valued by her community, and her contribution to public life was real and lasting.

It was a privilege to know her.

My thoughts are with Gwyn and her family at this time.

Diolch, Phyllis.

Sian Gwenllian MS

Tribute to Delme Bowen 1944- 2026

Funeral Service Tribute by his son, Dewi Bowen – 21/04/26

Professor Ifor Delme Bowen B.Sc. Ph.D. D.Sc. C.Biol. F.I.Biol. 20/03/1944- 25/03/2026

“In the midst of life we are in death.”

Brother to Wyn, former husband to Maureen, father to me (Dewi), Gareth, Rhian and Rhodri, and grandfather to seven grandchildren, and a partner to his beloved Pam, who he lost to such a cruel illness.

But he was much more than that  a mad professor, scientist, naturalist, storyteller, singer, poet, astronomer, historian, politician, a great Welsh patriot, and most of all a professional worrier.

Despite his many achievements, he never took himself too seriously. The son of a coal miner from Llanedi, he remained true to his roots throughout his life.

Academically, he was exceptional. A brilliant scientist in the true meaning of the word. Gaining a Ph.D. and then a Doctor of Science (D.Sc.) due to all his published scientific works. His field was programmed cell death, and he built a worldwide reputation through his research and writing. He also managed to apply the science in practice producing natural environmentally friendly slug killers. He will be remembered as the fantastic zoologist peering down an electron microscope, as well as collecting slugs in the garden or searching for planarian worms with their remarkable regenerative abilities in the ancient Ffynnon Llandennis, Cardiff,  forever creating uniquely imaginative and original experiments with his students.

Beyond science, he was also a poet in both languages, a man who could move easily between science and creativity. His mind worked in a unique way, often solving problems in remarkable ways, for example dismantling an early 80s Sinclair ZX81 computer that was overheating and attaching a Fisher Price blood pressure pump toy, foil and Meccano to try and cool it.

He was also a true naturalist, growing orchards wherever he lived — apples, pears and plums — with a deep knowledge of the natural world. He also had a deep understanding of Celtic Wales and the Dark Ages, and the universe and its mysteries fascinated him.

But of course, it is the small things that remain… creating the fictional character “Colin”, the fifth child responsible for everything when none of the real children would admit it! The stories of Byni Wyni and Reji (and Professor Screwtop), a world full of imagination. And who can forget the video of Tara the dog’s mess because of maggots… or the perfect built kennel never used. In Rhyd y Nant, Pontyclun, even local children would gather to listen to him swearing while doing DIY, a performance in itself, “Shit house poets will never die”.

With the sole exception of Ireland, the country that inspired his popular catchphrase “Shore it’s a lovely day today!”. He always hated travelling abroad, and truth be told, he would worry himself into a right state. But he still reluctantly travelled the world: Nigeria, Chicago USA, Saudi, Egypt, Europe and the Philippines, always noticing and respecting different cultures.

Music followed him everywhere, with his charming and powerful tenor voice. From taking advantage of the acoustics of old Cardiff College by whistling, to self-created songs such as “Dream Queen Pasqueline” and “Your slacks are low and your hips are showing… brang y rang rang”, to true classics like “Her eyes they shone like the diamonds”. And the most tender of all “rwn y rwn y plentyn bach…” used to soothe a child to sleep, possibly inspired by a tune from Doctor Who. And of course, who can forget that he taught his faithful old dog and companion Jasper to sing along with him, and his theory that Jasper could communicate by winking,  once for no and twice for yes!

His humour extended to everything  from the idea that he was turning into a pangolin to his admiration of his “male dominant paunch”.

Politically, he was a fiercely committed and natural politician. The first Plaid Cymru member to become Lord Mayor of Cardiff, he served for many years as a community and county councillor and fought tirelessly for Welsh and community causes. Equally at home canvassing council flats in Beddau calling himself Del the collier’s son  as he was in the posh houses of Groesfaen as Professor Bowen. Political campaigning was not just for elections, but a constant. Ultra-local Clunsheets, Creigiau Chronicles and the Ferry’nough were produced using an old Gestetner printer in the garage, informing communities from a Welsh nationalist perspective. He was more than anyone responsible for improving and restructuring Cardiff’s transport systems and contributed significantly to the strong foundations of Plaid Cymru today.

But in the end… despite his international reputation as a scientist, his public work and his many achievements, what remains is the man himself. The stories. The singing. The laughter. The unique character.

Ivor to the scientists, Delme to his community, Del to his friends.

A huge loss to his family and to Wales. A brilliant man in so many ways… but to us, simply Dad and Tadcu.

Nosda Dad.

Tribute to Huw John 1939 – 2025

DAFYDD HUW JOHN

The Plaid Cymru History Society is grateful to Councillor Peter Hughes Griffiths  for his tribute  to the late Huw John, which appears in full on the Welsh language page of the website.

Remembered as a Welsh patriot, a friend to all, and for many years the organiser and leader of Twmpath Dances the length and breadth of Wales, Huw John died at his home at Maesglas, Peniel, Carmarthen on the 13th of August 2025 at the age of 86.  He was fond of organising and taking part in traditional Plygain services across Wales, as well as non-stop activity on behalf of Plaid Cymru.

The Plygain at Capel Penygraig, where Huw served as a deacon and led the singing for over 30 years, has become an important fixture on the Plygain circuit since 2012.

Huw came from Crymych in north Pembrokeshire, and was the brother of Glanville and the late Peter John.  He and his late wife Elonwy lived in the Neath area before moving to Parc-y-drysi, Cwmffrwd near Carmarthen with their daughters Eurgain and the late Siwan.

Huw worked as a lecturer in Technical Colleges before taking early retirement and turning to the manufacture and restoration of harps.

He worked tirelessly for Plaid Cymru throughout his life.  He became a Plaid Cymru councillor in the Neath area, and then a Plaid County Councillor for the Llandyfaelog/St Ishmael Ward on Carmarthenshire County Council from 1995 until 2004.  He served as a Cabinet member, with responsibility for Finance and Resources at a time when Plaid Cymru was supporting Independent councillors to run the council.

But he will be especially remembered in the Carmarthen constituency as the highly effficient organiser of Plaid Cymru placards for many elections for the Westminster Parliament and Senedd Cymru.  On every occasion his tireless practical contribution proved crucial..

A Commemoration Service for Huw John took place on Thursday 4th November in Capel Penygraig, Croesyceiliog, Carmarthen, and a tribute appeared in the September 2025 edition of the Welsh language community newspaper Cwlwm, with a commemorative cywydd by Geraint Roberts, Cwmffrwd, the following month.  The full text can be read on the Welsh language page of this website.

                                                                           With thanks to Peter Hughes Griffiths

Discussing the new book about Dafydd Elis-Thomas

At the Parish Hall, Llandaf, Friday 21 November 2025, an evening was organised by Plaid Cymru History Society to hear Aled Eirug  discussing his new book about Dafydd Elis-Thomas with Vaughan Roderick.

Vaughan Roderick and Aled Eirug
 

 

 

Here is a recording of the simultaneous translation of the evening by Steffan William.  

 

Dafydd Williams, Chairman Plaid Cymru History Society, introducing the evening.

 

Tribute to Judge Philip Richards (1946-2025)

TRANSLATED TRIBUTE TO JUDGE PHILIP RICHARDS (1946-2025)

At his Funeral at Thornhill Crematorium, Cardiff, October 8, 2025

This is a task that I – and others taking part in today’s proceedings – did not seek and do not relish. It has been thrust upon us by recent events. The same can be said of everyone present this afternoon: we would prefer not to be attending the funeral of our friend, Philip Richards, and that he was still brilliant, bright and breezy among us – albeit of mature years. Yet we are where we are, and gather today to remember him; to share our knowledge of him – and, above all, to celebrate his life among us.

Others – in particular members of his immediate family – will speak of the Phil they knew and loved. I speak as one of Phil’s many friends and, if I may be so bold, on behalf of others also. In doing so, there may be points of overlap between us; but my aim is to avoid too many of these by speaking of the Phil I knew : an exceptionally good and loyal friend across almost 60 years between March 1966 (when I first met him at a political rally at Aberdare) and July this year when I and four friends last visited him at The Waverley Care Home,  Penarth shortly before his 79th birthday. I should add also that he was Best Man at my marriage in 1980!

I begin these remarks in English by way of introduction. With your indulgence, I shall continue and finish in Welsh : a language Phil loved, learned and ‘made legal’. Indeed, if his accomplishment in the Welsh language was good enough for the Lord Chancellor of England & Wales to appoint him chair of the Standing Committee on the Use of Welsh in the Courts of Wales, and for Phil to hear Crown Court cases in Welsh, it would be most odd not to acknowledge in our own language such an important aspect of his life & work.

*  *  *  *  *

The greatest strict-metre poet of the late 20C in Welsh, Gerallt Lloyd Owen, wrote an ode (awdl) entitled ‘Afon’ (‘River’). It won him the Chair at the National Eisteddfod in 1975. In it, Owen describes his childhood recollection of playing on the banks of a river and depicts that river as a symbol of life itself. He says:

                Fy nyddiau, afon oeddynt,   
                mân donnau fu oriau’r hynt.       
                Aethant fel breuddwyd neithiwr                      
                or a leaf sweep on the surface of water.

               My days were as a river,
               my hours like small, swift waves.
               They went by like last night’s dream,
               with the haste of leaves on water.

All of our lives might be depicted so. Phil’s life, too, was as a river : fed by the streams of his various hinterlands : his upbringing;  education; intellect; formative friendships; family life; career experience and health.

 In the Welsh remarks that follow, I shall touch on each of these – hopefully in a way that won’t impinge on the comments of others. I shall conclude with a praise-poem for Phil written in the traditional cywydd metre, dressed in cynghanedd : a system of rhyme, rhythm and assonance that binds the sense of a poem with what an American observer once called “probably the most complex system of prosody in the world”. (Just don’t try to translate the strict-metres of Welsh poetic tradition using GoogleTranslate : they’re too complex for  even A.I. to master as things stand!).

The cywydd metre was – and still is – at the heart of a long Welsh tradition that has praised great and worthy people since at least the beginning of the 13C. Our late friend, Philip Richards, is more than worthy of my humble effort to place him within that tradition.

 

*  *  *  *  *

 

[The original text is in Welsh from this point on]:

Phil was born at Nottingham in 1946, in the wake of the Second World War, as his parents lived away from home due to the effects of the conflict that had just ended. Phil was never entirely comfortable with this fact (though he wore it lightly enough, of course). In that respect, he was in good company in the Welsh political world of which he would eventually be a part, since exactly the same could be said of David Loyd George (born in Manchester); Saunders Lewis (Liverpool); Emrys Roberts (Leamington Spa ) and Dafydd Wigley (Derby)!

Within a short time, the family returned to Wales on the appointment of Phil’s father as a History and English teacher in Cardiff. His mother was also a teacher, specialising in teaching English in the secondary sector. Phil went to Cardiff High School, and from there to Bristol University to study Law. He graduated in 1968.

From Bristol he went to London for a time and sat Bar exams at the Inner Temple in 1969. He then did a pupilage with Judge Dewi Watkin Powell – a patriotic lawyer who had a lasting influence on him. While in London – at an event organised by Plaid Cymru – Phil met Dorothy George of Llanbradach. Soon, the two returned to Cardiff and married in 1971. Rhuanedd was born in 1974 and Lowri in 1978. Eventually, Phil became a member of the largest barristers’ chambers in Wales at Park Place, Cardiff. He had a successful career as a barrister until appointed a Crown Court judge in 2001: a position he held until his retirement in 2016.

Phil was always a man of broad interests. There isn’t time now to detail them all; but we can mention literature; all kinds of music – from classical to blues and rock-and-roll); people; travel; languages; history and family history; sport and – on a more serious level – the state of the society of which he was a part and, of course, politics. However, most of these must now be put aside to focus on the field in which I knew him best, politics.

I first met Phil in 1966 when he came to Aberdare as a twenty-year-old student to speak for the Plaid Cymru candidate in that year’s general election. I was an eighteen-year-old Form Six student standing for Plaid Cymru in the mock-election held at Aberdare Boys’ Grammar School the same year. That was the start of a friendship between us that continued unabated until his decease.

Phil’s own political career began when he stood as a Plaid Cymru candidate in local elections in Cardiff in 1971. He then stood as the Plaid candidate for Westminster in Cardiff North in both general elections of 1974 (February and October).

Following Gwynfor Evans’ historic victory in the Carmarthen by-election in 1966, there was much stirring in some of the constituencies of the south Wales valleys in favour of Plaid Cymru. The constituencies of Caerphilly, Rhondda West and Merthyr are normally mentioned; but the same was true of the Cynon Valley. There, in 1970, the Plaid candidate received 11,431 votes and 30% of the total vote. In the 1974 general election, its candidate scored nearly 12,000 votes (11,973 : 30% of the total) in February, and 8,133 votes (21% of the total) in October. Therefore, the Aberdare constituency (‘Cynon Valley’ as it was to become) was fertile ground for Plaid Cymru, especially given that the local council had a large group of councillors as the centre of a strong campaign.

Thus, in 1975, Phil was invited to be the Plaid candidate there: an invitation that was accepted and which saw his young family move to Mountain Ash and then Cwmaman. Soon afterwards, Phil asked me to be his agent; but I was by then working for the Party centrally myself, and felt I would not have the time needed to devote to the post. In due course, the late councillor Aubrey Thomas, Penrhiwceiber, became his agent in the 1979 general election.

To date, I have not said a great deal in public about the turmoil of the years between 1975 and the 1979 election, and don’t intend to go into too much detail today. Suffice to say that Phil was not given fair play by everyone in the constituency as the previous parliamentary candidate felt he should remain in that role. Less than half of the local party agreed; but a bitter and personal campaign was launched to undermine Phil. Years of arguing and squabbling in public ensued between the two factions: one for Phil, the other not. The result, of course, was a huge drop in the Plaid vote at the 1979 election (though we kept our deposit with 10% of the total vote). No candidate – even St. David – would have been able to prevent such a collapse in such circumstances; and I and others felt angry and ashamed that Phil had had to face such a betrayal.

One of the few who came out of the episode with honour was Phil. In a response typical of him, he did not respond to those who had undermined him in the same way they had acted towards him. He didn’t get angry; he didn’t flinch; he didn’t insult anyone. On the contrary, he threw himself into constituency work before and after the election and put down roots in the area which would eventually bring him a far better political result.

During this time, he joined Mountain Ash RFC and became the club’s popular President for many years, He was Chair of Cynon-Taf Housing Association and chairman of Governors at Ysgol Gyfun Rhydyfelen at a turbulent time in its history. He helped and advised ‘RHAG’ (Parents for Welsh-medium Education) locally and at county-level. He campaigned for a new hospital and campaigned passionately for the miners and their families who went on strike for many months in 1984-85. The Shepherd’s Arms, Cwmaman became a refuge for him; and often, in sharing a drink there, I marvelled at his ability to get along naturally with the most ordinary of people, despite being a senior barrister and prospective judge. Not everyone (by far) would want – or be able – to do that. The basis of this talent, of course, was his natural good nature, and the fact that there wasn’t a pretentious bone in his body.

His dedication and ability as a public speaker during this period was a means of restoring Plaid’s credibility in the constituency. Indeed, his commitment and affability did much to win the respect of those who were his political opponents from a partisan point of view. He cultivated personal friendships with various councillors and members of the Labour Party; and I can honestly say that I never heard of any of them attack him personally. Quite the opposite!

Often, a politician has to pay a price for leading such a demanding life, and in the late 1980s Phil and Dorothy’s marriage came to an end – though they still respected each other and loved their two daughters unconditionally. Yet the period between 1988 and 1991 was difficult for Phil, it’s fair to say – until he embarked on a new phase in his life in 1991 when he met Julia. This led to their marriage in 1994 and the birth of Megan in 1995. He also had through this marriage a stepson, David, of whom he was very fond, thereby completing his closest family until the arrival of seven grandchildren!

But, there was still too much of that old political ‘itch’ lurking within Phil; and with the prospect of a National Assembly for Wales on the horizon in 1997, he wanted to make one more bid to be elected to that new body.

Following the May 1997 general election, a referendum was held in September of the same year on the establishment of a National Assembly for Wales. It was won by a few thousand; but, as they say, “‘one’ is enough in a democracy” and an Assembly – or ‘Senedd Cymru’ as it is today – was created.

This partly realised a dream that Phil had had since his youth. So, his wish to stand for the new body was hardly surprising. He did so in the Cynon Valley in March, 1999, winning 9,206 votes (42.5% of the total vote): just 677 votes behind the Labour candidate (who received 45.6% of the overall vote). This was Phil’s best election result; and although Julia has described it (understandably in terms of her family) as being “too close for comfort“, I’m sure she’ll forgive me for saying that this narrow loss was a huge loss for Cwm Cynon.

That was the end of Phil’s political campaigning. From then on, he put his shoulder to the wheel of his legal career and became head of chambers and, in 2001, a Crown Court judge with particular responsibility for advising on the use of the Welsh language within the legal system in Wales. He served as a judge for fifteen years until retirement in 2016 at the age of 70. That same year, he was honoured at Abergavenny by being made a member of the Gorsedd for his service to the Welsh language in the worlds of law and education.

The sunset of his health came far too quickly thereafter. In February 2017, he was initially diagnosed with the illness that eventually overcame him. By 2019, things had become so much worse that his family and friends had repeated cause for concern about his personal safety. The end result was that, in 2021, he had to live in care in Cardiff and then Penarth.

His family faithfully visited him there. Also, a group of some of his old political friends (David Evans, Dafydd Williams, Marc Phillips, Helen Mary Jones and myself) – visited him regularly, thereby continuing our habit of meeting from time to time for lunch and conversation – with Phil at the heart of it all. Such visits were not easy and sometimes challenging; but we are extremely glad we kept going. Phil, our friend, deserved no less than that.

The last time we visited him was on the 16th of July, about two weeks before his 79th birthday. Usually, it was an effort during the first half of the hour we had with him to elicit a response; but there would sometimes be a glimmer of recognition during the second half-hour : especially as we sang to the accompaniment of Dafydd Williams’ banjo! Phil opened his eyes that particular day and started smiling at us. At the end of the hour, we went, one by one, to say goodbye to him for the time being. When my turn came towards the end, he grabbed my hand until I couldn’t easily pull it away – and I didn’t have the heart to do so purposefully. So it was until I explained to the others – and before HMJ gave him another big kiss on his forehead. That alone made him release his grip.

That’s how our sixty-year friendship ended. I will not forget it; but the thing that kept us going that day was that Phil understood – if not exactly who we were – that we were friends of his, and that thought the world of him.

Thank you for listening. I conclude with the poem of praise “In memory of Judge Philip Richards” : a great man in the Wales of his time if ever there was one.

David Leslie Davies


Tribute in the Senedd to Phil Richards by Rhys ab Owain. 24 September 2025

Thank you very much, Dirprwy Lywydd. Another 932 votes and Phil Richards would have become a Member in this Chamber in 1999 as the first Member for the Cynon Valley. This loss to Welsh politics was a boon for the justice system of our country. Like many prominent nationalists of the time, Phil was not born in Wales, but place of birth does not determine nationality, and Phil was consumed with passion for Wales and the Welsh language.

My father and Phil were unique in Plaid Cymru in Cardiff at the start of the 1960s. They weren’t Welsh-speaking chapelgoers, and some were quite suspicious of these two rebels, but they both threw themselves into the task of campaigning in Cardiff, often in difficult circumstances, and then Phil moved to the Cynon valley years before the 1979 general election to stand in that very difficult election. Phil Richards wasn’t a parachute candidate.

He used his legal skills to assist the party in the 1970s and the 1990s. These were key periods in the history of devolution. Phil threw himself into normalising the Welsh language in our courts. He would encourage witnesses to give their evidence in their first language, and I took many cases through the medium of Welsh before Phil. The Welsh learner became a Welsh language liaison judge, promoting the language on every occasion.

Phil also became a member of the Gorsedd as Phil Pennar. Dad and Phil were in the same care home for a while, and although these two old friends didn’t recognise each other because of their cruel illness, it brought us some comfort that those two old friends were together, and every time we saw Phil, he was still smiling. Wales has lost a giant of a man, a giant short in stature, perhaps, but a giant nonetheless. Thank you.

Tributes to Owen John Thomas 1939 – 2024

Tribute by Hywel 

My father is surrounded by his people today.

He would have enjoyed your company, so many familiar faces to catch up on old times.

I admired my dad, though I never told him that.

My father was a multitasker, teacher by day, campaigner by night and bouncer at Clwb Ifor Bach on the weekend.

The easy path in life is one of conformity – going with the flow, accepting your lot and not asking for more.

Speaking out against injustice, standing up for cause, daring to imagine a different future, requires a degree of self-sacrifice and comes at a price. It ruffles feathers – an irritant to the established order of things.

My father wasn’t a go with the flow sort of guy. In fact, he spent most of his life swimming against the tide in pursuit of more, much more for Wales and its people. He mustered a rag tag army of volunteers to go swimming with him – Dai Payne, Dez Harries, Terry O’Neill, Rhys Lewis, to name but a few – sadly no longer with us but all instrumental in making those hard yards on the long journey to a better future. And not forgetting his dear friend Alan Jobbins who is with us today.

I remember crisscrossing the streets of Cardiff with my dad as a kid, stopping to drop off leaflets, posters and placards. We knew from a young age that my dad liked to talk, and a simple drop-off could quickly turn into a fully-fledged meeting. And it was sitting outside in my father’s second-hand Renault 4, not complete with heating, that my siblings and I learned the art of patience and boy did we learn patience.

In May 1979, my dad decided to stand as the Plaid Cymru Westminster candidate for Cardiff North. His campaign office was located at the top of City Road in Roath – a mile-long road comprising of shops, takeaways, pubs and motorbikes from Japan.

During the course of his election campaign, I would make frequent visits to the campaign office with dad. The place was a hive of activity – boxes pilled high, leaflets being handed out to volunteers and wooden steaks being attached to pictures of my dad for people’s front gardens. If the results of the election were determined by commitment, passion and energy, my dad would have left the rest of the field standing. Sadly, he came in a respectful last with 1,081 votes, just 16,100 votes shy of victory.

On Monday morning, my dad went back to his day job teaching at Gladstone Primary School and I headed off to catch the number 25 bus to take me to my school in Llandaf. As the bus made its way along City Road, past the now closed campaign office, I saw a huge Welsh flag in the window with following words written beneath it. Words that have never left me:

I am wounded but not yet slain

I will rise up and fight again.

I was just 12 years-old at the time but realised in that moment, that my father was in fact a warrior.

And he was true to his word, he did rise up and fight again, and was elected to serve as an Assembly Member in the newly formed National Assembly for Wales in 1999. And that spirit sums up my dad.

He wasn’t perfect by any means. Time dedicated to the cause inevitably resulted in less time to do the normal dad things. But that was okay. He was a good man and solid father who loved his children and family dearly. His Plaid Cymru meetings at the New Ely pub in the 70s were mutually beneficial for both my dad and us siblings.  Those meetings yielded several hundred beer mats and a collection that covered our bedroom walls for many years.

My dad was a character, tipyn o cymeriad. He was always smartly dressed, just like his father, and just like his father had no real interest in material things. When the Renault 4 finally packed in, he found a suitable second-hand replacement. His yellow Ford Cortina was instantly recognisable in the neighbourhood. When the rusting fenders above the front wheels needed replacing, dad found a pair of aqua marine fenders that would do the job. There was just something about that car that attracted attention. So much so that it was stolen five times from outside the house. The popularity of Starsky & Hutch, at the time, may have played a part in the thefts. We’ll never know.

It’s hard to summarise a life on a few pieces of paper.

Like a lot of people who are committed to affecting social change, once my dad, had set out on this path, there would be no turning back. It was all consuming, it would become his life’s work.

We need people like dad, like John Benson, like Alan Bates who make a stand for what is right and stick at it, whatever the cost. That’s the only way that meaningful change happens.

When I look back at my dad’s life, I think I can safely say, that he made the most of every minute and made every minute count for Wales.

I’ll miss you dad. Nos da


Tribute by Rhys 

Dad was a man of his own patch. He took pride in being “Cairdiff born and Cairdiff bred,” and his accent and enthusiasm for the capital city was obvious to everyone. He had loads of stories about the people and places of his youth. Some of us here will never forget the long discussion Dad and Auntie Elizabeth had one Christmas Day about what colour a front door was on Albany Road in the 1940s. He was extremely proud of his parents and adored his sisters, as they adored their younger brother. With Auntie Elizabeth and Auntie Martha, he was always guaranteed a laugh, no matter how bad his joke was!

Dad was always a bit of a rebel. At the time, it was very unusual, if not unheard of, for a non-Welsh speaker with a broad Cardiff accent to join Plaid Cymru. He had incredible energy and passion. His drive must have come as a bit of a shock to some Plaid members in Cardiff at the time, but he had a clear vision that a better Wales was possible. Yet he knew that would require a lot of hard work. Dad never expected anyone to do any work that he wasn’t doing himself.

When Dad joined Plaid Cymru in the late 1950s, it was numerically the biggest party in Cardiff. However, due to my Dad’s efforts, the membership soon plummeted.

Yes, you heard me correctly. After finally receiving a list of the membership from the legendary Nans Jones, my father realised that it must be wrong, as activists and elected members from other parties were included. Once a Plaid member, always a Plaid member. At one address he visited, it turned out that a lodger had been the Plaid member, but he had moved away in the mid-1930s, over a quarter of a century earlier!

With the membership list now more realistic, the hard work of campaigning began. In those days, there was real hostility towards the Welsh language and Plaid Cymru in Cardiff.

There are many stories of Dad canvassing. Some, like his run-in with an angry monocle-wearing English gentleman, cannot be repeated from a chapel pulpit. Others, like when he accidentally smashed milk bottles and quickly covered his rosette to tell the angry resident he was calling on behalf of the Labour Party, are tamer.

Despite the lack of electoral success for decades, Dad was always positive. He would look for something encouraging even in the dullest elections. I remember during the 1997 election, Dad was thrilled that Ieuan Wyn Jones had increased his majority despite the wave of support for the Labour Party, and that Plaid Cymru had kept its hold in over half the constituencies. His inspiration to establish Clwb Ifor Bach came from wanting to offer hope to young people after the disappointment of the 1979 referendum and the election of Margaret Thatcher.

Welsh had long died out in the family by the time he set out to learn the language. To him, Welsh was a gift, and he taught it to adults for decades. When numbers were too low to sustain the Welsh class at Gladstone School, Dad and Penri Jones would cross the road to Cathays Cemetery to add names to the register!

He passionately believed that Welsh language was an integral part of life in Cardiff. The fact that so many place names in the capital are in Welsh inspired him to research and uncover the rich history of the language in Cardiff. He loved discovering old Welsh names, and many like Nant Lleucu and Heol Plwca are now used officially.

It’s hard to believe today that the policy of Glamorgan Council until the late 1960s was that at least one parent had to speak the language before a child could receive Welsh-medium education. Though he hadn’t yet mastered the language, Dad fought to ensure my brother John could receive Welsh-medium education. This policy change led to a tremendous growth in Welsh-medium education in the southeast. Today, over 70% of Cardiff’s Welsh-medium pupils come from non-Welsh-speaking homes.

He fought for decades against his employer, the county council, to expand Welsh-medium provision. It didn’t matter to him that this harmed his career. To Dad, Wales was far more important than any personal benefit. He was instrumental in establishing several schools, and his expertise in Cardiff’s history enabled him to suggest appropriate names.

Dad loved meeting former pupils from Court y Ala and Gladstone. Many would tell him how he changed their lives and awakened their sense of Welsh identity. When Dad died, so many of his former pupils got in touch and spoke about him on social media. Many described him as their favourite teacher. Many said that because of him, they now spoke Welsh, their children attended Welsh-medium schools, and that it was Dad who taught them to sing the National Anthem. We can never quantify the contribution of a good and inspiring teacher.

Despite retiring from the National Assembly back in 2007, it was incredible in the days following his death to be contacted by former constituents he had helped. People like Michael O’Brien, a victim of a grave miscarriage of justice, and John Benson and Phil Jones, tireless campaigners for Allied Steel & Wire workers and their families.

The day he died, Geraint Davies, the first Assembly Member for the Rhondda, phoned me. He told me of all the support Dad gave to his successful campaign in the Rhondda in 1999, despite this greatly diminishing Dad’s own chances of being elected. That was typical of Dad. Plaid Cymru and Wales always came before any personal gain.

The final years were difficult for him, but I never heard Dad complain about himself. Right to the end, his smile when we saw him remained the same, and the caring staff at Shire Hall saw beyond his illness and showed incredible kindness towards Dad and to us as a family.

Dad leaves behind 12 grandchildren. Despite his many contributions, this is his greatest contribution to his beloved nation.

Thanks to people like Dad, through their words and actions, we can sing today with renewed confidence:

“O bydded i’r hen iaith barhau.”
(“Oh may the old language endure.”)


Tribute by Dafydd Iwan (translated)

Thank you for the opportunity to say a few words about a very special man. I first met Owen John at a Plaid youth summer school in Llangollen sometime back in the mid-60s, when we were all young. And I was surprised and amazed by this young man from Cardiff who was so passionate, so fiercely passionate about Plaid and about Wales—and he didn’t speak Welsh! I had never met such a creature, I lived in Llanuwchlyn! And I was surprised and amazed by this young man for several days during that week.

I think I saw Owen John beginning to grasp the Welsh language, because I had a friend with me from Llanuwchlyn, with red hair, and someone had clearly told Owen John that the word we used for someone with red hair was “cochyn.” So, every time my friend entered the room, Owen John would shout “cochyn!” across the place. It was clear he enjoyed the sound of the word, and that he could say a Welsh word and people would respond. My friend was not pleased at all! Unfortunately, someone else taught Owen John during the week that there was another Welsh word that rhymed with “cochyn,” and Owen John was even more delighted that he now had two Welsh words, both rhyming, both with a wonderful sound. So every time my friend came in, he would say “cochyn mochyn!” (redhead pig!), and my friend was not pleased at all!

And I think that was the beginning of Owen John’s journey into the Welsh language. Because I met him over the years, over half a century, at conferences, committees, rallies and protests, canvassing, and of course, by then, Owen John had mastered the language, without losing any of his fire, without losing any of his enthusiasm. And every time you met Owen John, you were in the middle of some campaign, always. You couldn’t help but be amazed at such energy, such spirit, and such enduring enthusiasm.

As it happens, on the way here, I was buying guitar strings, having decided to keep going for another little year. And who was there, someone I had never met before, was the woman we just heard singing. And Stacey told me how Owen John had changed the course of her life and her family’s life, had supported her through her period of learning Welsh, had supported them as they moved to a Welsh-medium nursery and then to a Welsh-medium primary school, and Owen John was there throughout, supporting every campaign.

And then, of course, Clwb Ifor Bach. People were surprised that Owen John was one of the main founders of Clwb Ifor Bach. When something like that happens, something that leaves its mark on your culture, it lasts for years. Those of us who were in Cardiff during the 60s, it was almost a pain to meet Owen John because he was always bubbling over something. Bubbling over the idea of establishing this Welsh club. And you knew it was going to happen. Years of bubbling, campaigning, pushing, and fundraising, and in the end, the doors of Clwb Ifor Bach opened. I don’t know what Owen John thought of the place in the end, but it has been an incredibly important contribution, and it brought people in. And that, of course, is our shared dream, and of course, Owen John’s dream. To make Welsh a living language, and to bring Welsh to the heart of Cardiff.

He loved Cardiff. He was in love with Cardiff. Many of us had the experience of walking around some of Cardiff’s streets with Owen John, and he would say “here was… here was published…” He knew the history of Cardiff, and he tied the history of Cardiff with the history of the Welsh language and the history of Wales. To be honest, one of Owen John’s big arguments was that we are proud of Cardiff as a capital city because it was, essentially, originally, a Welsh-speaking city. And we all have these memories of a man who bubbled over with love for Wales, for the Welsh language, for its history, and someone who changed the life of Cardiff and Wales to a greater extent than most of us ever will.

It was a privilege to know Owen John, and sweet is the memory of him. Thank you for him.


Tribute by Lona Roberts

Now then. You who go door to door canvassing, face to face with someone standing before you, remember: you are offering them a treasure. A better future for Wales, and they are part of it!” That was Owen John. In Plasnewydd, down here. Full of spirit, passion and mischief. As a young man, he was electrified. That spark had taken hold of him. And he had accepted it as an inseparable part of his life.

Let me try to describe what it was like in Plaid Cymru at the beginning of the 1950s. I am the youngest daughter of the Gwyn Daniel family. Another one, like Owen John, who was captured by the ideal of Wales as it could be. My father was a schoolteacher during the day, but in the evenings he would network to get the bricks in the wall. To get him back home at a reasonable hour, my mother insisted on taking me with him. As a child, I was left with him in the Plaid Cymru office on Queen Street. A time when cars and buses flowed busily up and down that street. The entrance was beside a shop, and then you had to climb narrow, steep stairs to reach the first floor. Another steep staircase to reach the second floor, and more stairs to reach the third floor at the top of the building. And there, there was a large room with two offices. At the desks were older women in coats and little hats, and men in ties and suits, and I was allowed to sit with them… stuffing envelopes, waiting for my father. Kind and dear people, salt of the earth. Among them were the brother and sister of Mrs Gruffydd John Williams, wife of the famous teacher, and her brother, Megan’s father, and Emrys Roberts.

Now I don’t know how many of you here this afternoon had the experience of hearing Owen John describe his first visit to that office. Arriving full of excitement, with two or three friends, offering himself to win over the new Welsh. Climbing one set of stairs, climbing the second set of stairs, then the third, and opening the door. I was in stitches listening to him describe the experience of opening that door. But Owen John wasn’t discouraged, he kept going. He later connected with Tŷ’r Cymru on Gordon Road, and again received the experience of being part of a group of people much older than him, but all focused on improving Wales’s future.

I lived and breathed that place as a child, among the old furniture of generous homes. I remember well the welcome given to a sofa that arrived from his home through the kindness of Mrs Dewi Watkin Powell. The Bible speaks of the prophet Elisha grasping the mantle of Elijah the prophet, as he was taken to heaven. Owen John grasped the mantle of Iorwerth Morgan, who had been a great benefactor to the team, and Owen John worked diligently there to secure a future for the house. Thank you, Owen John, and thank you too, to his family.

Rhys has asked me to read one of the parables of the Lord Jesus. Here is the Parable of the Mustard Seed. This parable appears in the gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke. Here it is as it appears in the Gospel according to Matthew:
“The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed, which someone took and sowed in a field. It is the smallest of all seeds, but when it has grown, it is the greatest of all shrubs and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and nest in its branches.”

And that’s it, without any explanation. A glorious example of how Jesus taught, a wonderful example of his confidence in the success of his mission. Owen John is now free from that cruel illness that bound him for so long, and he is now among our cloud of glorious witnesses. He is in the lineage of those who planted seeds and nurtured the garden in all weathers. Confident that there would be a harvest, and that harvest under the blessing of the Almighty. He had the privilege of seeing his work bear fruit, and rejoicing in that.

“Since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses,” says the letter to the Hebrews, “let us run the race set before us without faltering, keeping our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith.”

And now here are parts of the holy word to comfort and encourage us:

The psalmist says, “My soul, bless the Lord, and all that is within me, bless his holy name. He is the one who forgives all my sins, heals all my diseases, crowns me with love and mercy. God is our refuge and strength, a ready help in trouble. The Lord is my light and my salvation, whom shall I fear? The Lord is the strength of my life, whom shall I dread?”

And the Lord Jesus says, “Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. I am gentle and humble in heart. I leave you peace. My own peace. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Do not let your heart be troubled, and do not be afraid. In the world you will have tribulation, but take heart. I have overcome the world.”

And from the work of the apostle Paul: “Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? I am fully convinced that neither death nor life, nor present nor future, nor powers, nor anything else created shall separate us from in Christ Jesus our Lord. Death has been swallowed up in victory. O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting? But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. Therefore, my dear friends, be steadfast and immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that your labour in the Lord is not in vain.

Let praise be to his name,
Amen.

 

From Cymru Fydd to Plaid Cymru – The Journey

PLAID CYMRU HISTORY SOCIETY

WREXHAM NATIONAL EISTEDDFOD – SOCIETIES TENT

12.30pm, THURSDAY 7 AUGUST 2025

Translation of Lecture by Ieuan Wyn Jones

‘From Cymru Fydd to Plaid Cymru – The Journey’

‘Tom Ellis was the greatest, truest patriot amongst the Members of Parliament during the “Cymru Fydd” period, at the end of the [nineteenth] century. Unfortunately, he accepted a position in his English party, and died shortly afterwards, a year before the turn of that century. He remained a hero in the county though, in our area at least, and his old house was not far from Felin-y-Wig. A large picture of him stood above our fireside mantelpiece at home in the Foty Fawr, and beneath it his words: “Self-government is the inspiration and aim of a nation”. His stance on behalf of Wales remained in our area’s memory and was passed on to us children.’

Excerpt from ‘Tros Gymru’ (1970), p. 21, by J.E. Jones (Plaid Cymru’s General Secretary, 1930-1962).

I begin this lecture with a quote from J.E. Jones’s book because it summarises the thoughts and feelings of some of the early leaders of Plaid Cymru, in the way that it considers the establishment of the Cymru Fydd movement in 1886 as the precursor to the party’s creation, and in their learning the obvious lessons from the failure of that movement. By far the most important lesson was that the principal failing of the nationalists of the Cymru Fydd movement – its attachment to the English and British Liberal Party – was to try to act from within that Liberal party. By 1925 the establishment of a Welsh National Party, that was completely independent of any other party, was a must. Griffith John Williams said in 1935: ‘It was essential to establish a Welsh Political Party’. Indeed, all its members had to sign a pledge to sever any links with other political parties in England and Wales.

But I’m running a little ahead of myself now. The story does not begin in 1886. We must go back to 1847. In many ways it is a critical year in our history as a nation, as that year a Report on the State of Education in Wales was published which soon became known as ‘The Betrayal of the Blue Books’. The intention of the British establishment in setting up the Commission which led to the Report was to try to make the Welsh more loyal to the state. The fact that the majority of Welsh people spoke Welsh and went to chapel led them to be a rebellious nation, with their protesting during the Chartist period and the Rebecca riots clear evidence of that. It was necessary to teach English to their children, to attract them back to the Established (Anglican) Church and thereby ensure a certain submission to their masters.

Reading parts of the Commissioners’ Report today clearly shows not only their lack of understanding of the Welsh nation, but also their arrogant, patronising attitudes towards Welsh speakers and their attachment to Nonconformity. The state of education in Wales was extremely poor, and the lack of teachers’ qualifications was to account for that. The standard of education for the common people in England was not much better, but of course the narrative that the Commissioners insisted upon meant that things were so bad in Wales due to a lack of English language skills. One example among many that populate the Report is the description of the teacher at Llandderfel British School. He understood English fairly well they said, but he spoke ‘with a Welsh idiom and not always grammatically!’.

The desire to teach English to the Welsh, and that at the expense of Welsh, ran side by side with the desire to bring them all back to the Anglican Church’s fold. But the way the Commissioners went about disparaging Nonconformity represented a stain on Welsh morals. Their position can be summed up by saying that for them the chapels were a den of immorality, and their ‘seiat’ meetings a place for women and men to court one another! The response of religious leaders, the only leaders the Welsh had at that time, was unanimous and vehement against the attack on their chapels. However, the response of many of them to the attack on the Welsh language was mixed and sometimes lukewarm.

We must remember the strength of the nonconformist chapels’ influence on the Welsh population. In the first half of the 19th century the leaders of the religious denominations were the natural leaders of the nation. Very few of the noble families, the big landowners and the like had any attachment to Welshness, the Welsh language or to Welsh identity. And up to 1840 relatively few of the religious leaders either were willing to dabble in politics – they were Tories and royalists. And then came the Betrayal of the Blue Books; and Lewis Edwards, Principal of the Calvinistic Methodist College in Bala, saying in 1848 that it was necessary to send ‘Principled Nonconformists to Parliament in every county and every borough throughout Wales.’

Many of the nonconformist political radicals came from among the Independent (i.e. Congregationalist) denomination, rather than from the Methodists. Gwilym Hiraethog for example left the Methodists and joined the Independents and his political radicalism can be seen at its most raw in Yr Amserau, the Welsh newspaper founded in Liverpool in 1846. The foundations of Yr Amserau were quite shaky at the outset, like many Welsh papers of the time. But when Hiraethog began to publish articles in a colloquial style under the title ‘Letters from the Old Farmer’ an audience of new readers was attracted. In these articles and in editorials he railed against the oppression meted out by landlords and began to support patriotic movements abroad. The two main figures who attracted his attention and support were Lajos Kossouth from Hungary and Giuseppe Mazzini from Italy.

Following the Hungarian Revolution in 1848 Kossouth was the country’s President for a short period, but the revolution was ultimately a failure and from then on he was a refugee who spent some time in Britain. Hiraethog praised him for his courage and his understanding of ‘the principles of true national freedom…’. Hungarians visited Hiraethog to thank him for his support. Kossouth came to Liverpool in 1851 and addressed a public meeting. Although there is no direct evidence that Hiraethog and Kossouth ever met, it is highly likely that it did happen during that visit.

And then we come to Hiraethog’s support for Mazzini, the nationalist who fought for the unification of Italy as a state. Mazzini also came to England as an exile and refugee on occasion, seeking the support of political radicals for his cause. One issue that attracted Hiraethog to Mazzini was his attack on Catholicism, something that pleased the radical Nonconformist no end! In correspondence between Hiraethog and Mazzini in 1861, Mazzini thanked the Welsh for their support and encouraged them to petition Parliament in order to put pressure on France to recall its troops from Italy. Hiraethog supported the fight of the Italians for their rights and independence, and there is concrete evidence that Hiraethog and Mazzini met a number of times in Liverpool.

Considering Hiraethog’s strong support for Kossouth and Mazzini in their efforts to secure independence for their countries, you would expect him to be equally as enthusiastic about similar rights for Wales. We can say with certainty that his support for the Welsh language was extremely strong, and he argued in favour of appointing judges who could speak Welsh to the courts in Wales. But there is no record whatsoever that he supported political freedom. And indeed he had little sympathy with the struggle of the Irish for self-government. Their attachment to Catholicism was an obstacle for him: in this respect he showed significant inconsistency though, as Kossouth was a Catholic!

Moving on from Hiraethog, it can be argued that the first person to support political rights for Wales in this period was Thomas Davis the Irishman of Welsh descent, in his book ‘Literary and Historical Essays’ published in 1846. He argued in favour of ‘a local senate’ in a federal form, as found in the American states. We have to wait for Michael D. Jones, Emrys ap Iwan, and later Tom Ellis, to raise the flag and emphasise political freedom alongside the fight for the Welsh language.

There was quite a debate between Michael D. Jones and Emrys ap Iwan about which of them was the first to advocate political rights. In a letter published in Y Genhinen in April 1892, at the time of that year’s general election, Emrys is adamant that it was he who first coined the term ‘ymreolaeth’ – autonomy – and furthermore he ‘was the first in Wales to argue for what the word means’. He can claim ownership of the word ‘ymreolaeth’, but what about his claim that he was the first to argue the case?

In his article on Religion, Nationalism and the State in Wales between 1840 and 1890, R. Tudur Jones says that Michael D. Jones was the father of modern political nationalism in Wales. Michael D. saw that there was a connection between national identity and political power. Although most of the nation’s religious leaders were quite happy that Wales was part of Britain, Michael D. argued that Wales was a minority cultural group in Britain, and English as the language of the majority a dominant language. In order for it to survive, the Welsh language would have to secure official status in the spheres of politics, education and the law. Once that happened, the result would be self-government rather than independence. Indeed there is very little, if any, reference to independence as the main goal of Welsh nationalists in the 19th century. The culmination of Michael D.’s argument was that Wales, like Ireland and India, should be considered colonies. He was the first in his time to see the need for Wales to manage its natural resources, water and minerals and use them for the nation’s benefit. That would create work and slow down the increasing migration of people from Wales to England and abroad. 19th century transport patterns tied Wales increasingly to England and through that was seen, in the words of Prys Morgan, ‘a system of economic inequality, emphasising to the Welsh that their economy was an inferior one, and mainly serving the needs of English Capitalism.’

By the 1870s a growth in Imperialist sentiment was seen in Wales, which coincided with rapid expansion in the number of British colonies and the state’s supposed prestige on the international stage. In this regard, Michael D. was rowing against the tide. He did not see any connection between imperialism and recognition of the rights of nations. He had a deep distrust of the British political establishment, stating that its intention was to eliminate the Welsh nation completely. Nevertheless he was aware of the meekness of many Welsh people as the relationship between Wales and England was so unequal, which in turn led to examples of quasi-paying homage.

The only other prominent figure who agreed with Michael D.’s minority position was Emrys ap Iwan. Emrys was a member of the Calvinistic Methodists, rather than an Independent like Hiraethog and Michael D. And when Emrys claimed that he was the first to campaign for self-government, Michael D. sent him a letter suggesting very subtly that he had influenced – possibly without his knowledge – his nationalistic beliefs!

Defence of the Welsh language was at the heart of Michael D. and Emrys’s nationalism. The easiest way for the state to assimilate the Welsh into one British nation was to eliminate the Welsh language. That, after all, was at the heart of the Betrayal of the Blue Books and the basis of the education laws that required English to be the only medium of education in schools. Aberystwyth University was founded in 1872, yet the Welsh language was not on the curriculum in its early years, and the Principal T. Charles Edwards was a member of Aberystwyth’s English chapel. This underlined the attitude of many of the leading members of religious denominations at the time, some of whom believed the Welsh language was likely to die out eventually. In this period therefore Emrys and Michael D. were very rare examples of people arguing in favour of fighting to keep the Welsh language, teaching it in schools, and making it the official language in courts. When Emrys appeared as a witness in a court case in 1889, he refused to give his evidence in English and insisted on speaking Welsh. There was turmoil in the court, and although the magistrates demanded that he give his evidence in English, he refused to do so. The case was adjourned and when the court reconvened there was a translator there. But since the defendant had admitted his guilt, Emrys’s testimony was not needed after all. Despite this, his stance received considerable attention in the Welsh press and Y Faner in particular was supportive of him.

Until 1886 then, these two voices were pretty much alone in their stance. And no elected politician was arguing in favour of national rights, either. Despite all that Henry Richard, the Apostle of Peace, did for Wales after being elected to represent Merthyr in 1868, he did not espouse self-government. And while a new set of Welsh Members of Parliament was elected in 1886, only one of them set out self-government as one of the main objectives in his leaflets. That was Tom Ellis, who was elected at the age of 27 to represent Meirionnydd. In his electoral address, he identified 5 areas that he would campaign for:

  • Autonomy for Ireland
  • Disestablishment of the Anglican Church
  • A better education system
  • Amending land laws
  • Autonomy for Wales

Throughout his time as a Member of Parliament he saw three subjects – disestablishment, improving the education system, and land reform – not as individual measures, but as part of the fight for Welsh identity. Where did all this come from? He was at Aberystwyth University between 1875 and 1879. Not from there for sure, as the Principal persuaded him to join the English chapel in the town, and the main matters covered at the University’s debating society were British ones. He went to Oxford in 1879, and in his early days there he had little sympathy with the nationalist cause in Ireland. But little by little, over a period of four years, his attitudes became more radical and nationalistic.

There are many reasons for this, but let us concentrate on the fact that the ideas of Thomas Davis the Irishman and Mazzini came to his attention. As we saw earlier, Thomas Davis argued in favour of autonomy for Wales in 1846, despite being a voice in the wilderness at that time. Tom Ellis said in 1890, ‘Thomas Davis and Mazzini were my two political and nationalist teachers’.

So who was Thomas Davis? He was not one of the leading figures among the Irish national movement. Davis was rather a writer and poet, and one of the first editors of ‘The Nation’, paper of the ‘Young Ireland’ movement. ‘Young Italy’ was founded by Mazzini and his friends for Italian nationalists, and similar movements were established all over Europe. The English name for Cymru Fydd was in fact ‘Young Wales’. Davis wrote nationalist poetry, such as ‘A Nation Once Again’. He was a Protestant arguing that Protestants and Catholics should be taught together, and was in favour of Irish as the national language. His father was a Welsh doctor. He was known as a cultural nationalist, campaigning for self-government and arguing for a devolved Parliament in Dublin. It is easy to see how Davis would appeal to the young Tom Ellis, as there are romantic and cultural as well as intellectual elements to his nationalism.

Another person the young Tom Ellis encountered was the Irishman Michael Davitt. Davitt was a radical campaigner particularly on the subject of land, and was one of the founders of the Irish Land League. He was imprisoned in 1870 after being found guilty of illegal gun running. After his release he became a popular public speaker, arguing in favour of nationalising land in Ireland. Although he was a controversial figure at the time, a series of public meetings were organised for him in north Wales during the first half of 1886. Their organiser was Michael D. Jones, and a meeting was held in Blaenau Ffestiniog on 12 February. Tom Ellis welcomed the meeting in Blaenau Ffestiniog in an article in the South Wales Daily News. 3,000 listened to Davitt speak in Blaenau, where he declared that the Welsh should elect MPs who intended working together with the Irish nationalists led by Parnell, in order to reform land laws in Wales.

Davitt and Tom Ellis corresponded, both supporting greater co-operation between nationalists in Ireland and Wales. This is when Tom Ellis published a further article in the South Wales Daily News arguing in favour of self-government. ‘If Ireland secures self-government, isn’t it about time that Wales got the power to manage its own affairs?’ He supported the methods of the nationalists led by Parnell to secure their rights.

And as we have seen, Tom Ellis was the first candidate in a parliamentary election to include self-government as part of his electoral address, in 1886. But he was a very lonely voice when he was elected to Westminster that year. It was necessary to try to spread support more widely and as a result the Cymru Fydd movement was also established in 1886, and that in London. Its founders were Tom Ellis, the historian John Edward Lloyd, O.M. Edwards, Llewelyn Williams and others.

Its main aim was making the case for self-government. But there were also cultural aspects to the movement, and that was O.M. Edwards’s main interest in reality. It was a movement based outside Wales during those early years: its first branch was in London, and the second one was established in Liverpool. It was only in 1891, in Barry, that the first branch in Wales was set up, and more were then established in other parts of Wales, especially in areas where the Liberals’ party machinery was strong and where the secessionists amongst them were supportive. The first edition of the organisation’s magazine, also called Cymru Fydd, was published in 1888. Its editor was Thomas John Hughes or ‘Adfyfyr’, and he wrote the first editorial in January 1888, describing the magazine as ‘nationalist’. Initially it contained articles on the Welsh Liberals’ programme, land issues, disestablishment of the church, and improving the education system in Wales. The movement tended to stick closely to cultural and educational objectives until Tom Ellis and Lloyd George, who was elected following a Parliamentary by-election in 1890, gave it a political spin.

Between 1886 and September 1890, Tom Ellis was the main leader, arguing in favour of self-government, writing articles, delivering speeches and trying to pressurise his fellow Liberal members to follow his lead. But he faced very stony ground and was a lone voice amongst Welsh MPs. The older radical Welsh Members of Parliament, people like Henry Richard and G. Osborne Morgan, were quite content to argue the case for Disestablishment and land law reform, but were not happy to plead the case for self-government.

Tom Ellis decided he had to raise the tempo and try to prick the consciences of his fellow MPs. He went on a trip to Egypt in early 1890 where he succumbed to a period of serious illness. He was there for several months in an attempt to restore his health. In Luxor on St. David’s Day he set out in his diary the clearest sign yet of his political manifesto. Yes, it would be necessary to fight for disestablishment, a better education system and land reform. But in order to secure the nation’s unity, Wales would need its own Parliament, University and Temple.

At the end of the diary entry, at the age of 31 and aware that his health was precarious, he stated:

This is my vow today – to work until death to win Unity for Wales in the fullest sense of the word. May God give me strength to be faithful to this vow.

His quote from two stanzas of a poem by the romantic poet Shelley is an interesting one. ‘The Masque of Anarchy’ is considered to be the best political poem in the English language and was written in response to the Peterloo massacre in 1819. Two themes in Tom Ellis’ vision were ‘freedom’ and ‘unity’, and these can be seen weaving throughout Shelley’s work. When he refers to ‘Let the laws of your own land’ he recognises the right of every nation to have its own legal system, based on national sovereignty.

After Tom Ellis arrived home, and his friends in Meirionnydd realised how fragile his health was and that he was probably short of money, a testimonial was launched for him. A substantial sum of money, £1,075 (worth around £150,000 today) was raised and presented to him at a special meeting in Bala in September 1890.

In response to the presentation he delivered what his son T.I. Ellis called a ‘confession of faith’ (Cofiant II, p. 108). This was the most important and significant speech of his career as a politician. He realised that establishing a group of the Welsh Parliamentary Party in 1888 among some Members from Wales, under Henry Richard’s chairmanship, was unlikely to achieve much as there was no unity of opinion amongst them on the national question. The main themes of his speech were:

  • Referring to the History of Wales, and the nation’s decision to stand up for its freedom and independence;
  • Talking about the national awakening in the previous quarter of a century that had been strengthened since 1886;
  • That the life of a nation depends on political action;
  • That our main duty was to Wales;
  • The need for national institutions such as a University of Wales, a National Museum, a National Library;
  • Working for legislation supported by the men and women of Wales;
  • Legislation would be a symbol of our union as a nation, it would be a voice for our nationality and fill our hopes as people.

No-one else among the Members of Parliament from Wales during the 19th century had defined so clearly what were the nationalist aspirations of this new set of leaders. Indeed, neither Michael D. nor Emrys ap Iwan had described nationalist aims so succinctly.

Tom Ellis therefore set out his stall, challenging others to follow him. ‘This is where I stand, who will come with me?’.

He wasn’t expecting cheers of approval for his call, though. He said at the end of his speech: ‘This is not the ambition of all of us’.

However, a few were willing to respond to the call. One of them was Alfred Thomas, Member of Parliament for East Glamorganshire. In this period he was close to Tom Ellis and had responded enthusiastically to the speech in Bala. He proceeded, with the support of Tom Ellis, to introduce a bill in the House of Commons on 15 June 1891, the National Institutions (Wales) Bill, with the intention of establishing a Wales Office, a University of Wales, a National Museum and a National Council (Parliament). It was tabled for a first reading but got no further. It was presented a second time in February 1892 and suffered the same fate.

There were more attempts between 1892 and 1896 to rekindle the enthusiasm of Cymru Fydd, this time under the leadership of Lloyd George: the years 1894 to 1896 are the most important in this. By that time, several branches of Cymru Fydd had been established in Wales. In that period numerous efforts were made to unite the Cymru Fydd alliance with the North Wales Liberal Federation in order to obtain commonality in the debate in favour of self-government. Lloyd George and Thomas Gee drove that bid for unity, as Tom Ellis had taken a job in Gladstone’s government. The next step was to try to unite the Federation in the south and the north of Wales. There were several attempts, and a decision was made to merge them in January 1895. But not everyone was happy about the merger, and its main opponent was David Alfred Thomas, MP for Merthyr. He oscillated between supporting the aims of Cymru Fydd and opposing them, but in the end he cast his lot with the hostile faction. Although some individuals were therefore willing to join in the call for a Parliament for Wales such as Alfred Thomas, David Randell MP for Gower, Herbert Lewis MP for Flint Boroughs, and David Lloyd George, they were actually quite isolated voices.

An attempt was made to re-organise the campaign in mid-1895 by appointing Alfred Thomas MP as Chairman of the Welsh (National) Liberal Federation and Beriah Gwynfe Evans as its Secretary. However, the attachment of many south Wales representatives to the idea of a united Federation was fragile and it all ended at a meeting held in Newport in January 1896, where the representatives rejected all attempts by Lloyd George to ensure the unity of the National Federation. Robert Bird, president of the Cardiff Liberals – and the owner of a coal tar distilling company – said that south Wales Liberals would not give in to Welsh ideas!

Some historians, perhaps a little superficially, come to the simple conclusion that a rift between Welsh-speaking rural Liberals and English-speaking urban and civic Liberals was the main reason for Cymru Fydd’s failure. But as John Davies argues in A History of Wales, there is more to it than that. Yes, there was a conflict between the rural and urban, but also between the radicalism, bordering on socialism, of Tom Ellis and the young Lloyd George and the conservatism of the Liberal leaders in the cities of south Wales. Assimilation between the northern radicals and budding socialists in south Wales would have been a much easier dovetailing exercise. In the end, the attachment of Lloyd George and others to the Liberal Party was strong, and the roots of Cymru Fydd’s ideas were neither deep enough nor broad enough to attract the Liberal Party to that fold en masse. Although Cymru Fydd dragged on for a year or two following the Newport fiasco, to all intents and purposes it was all over.

Although the efforts of Cymru Fydd’s leaders failed, it must be acknowledged that until 1886 nobody at a parliamentary level had been brave enough to raise the cause of Wales in this way. Tom Ellis was seen as the intellectual leader of the movement, and Lloyd George later as its campaign leader. It must also be remembered that the Liberal Party was in opposition when Tom Ellis was first elected, and indeed it was so for the greater part of his parliamentary career. Some historians argue that that party reached its peak early in 1886, and after it lost the election that year things were never quite the same. The party got a form of second wind at the beginning of the twentieth century, but after Lloyd George stepped down from being Prime Minister in 1922 it was thereafter in the political wilderness.

To what extent, however, was the Cymru Fydd movement a bridge that led to the establishment of Plaid Cymru in 1925 – and which led to securing an Assembly in 1997 and a Senedd in 2011? And why was there such a gap between 1896 and 1925?

Looking hastily at the 30 years, more or less, between the last fiery meeting of Cymru Fydd and the founding of Plaid Cymru, a few points deserve attention. One thing that is worth noting is the Act to disestablish the Anglican Church and create the Church in Wales in 1920. It took over 70 years for that campaign to reach its climax, which shows how difficult it was to secure any substantive change through Parliament in Westminster. Of all the campaigns of Cymru Fydd’s generation, disestablishing the church and creating the University of Wales are the only two that succeeded, though certain improvements in the education system were achieved, as well as the establishment of a Welsh Department within the Board of Education in 1907 and the Welsh Health Board in 1919. O.M. Edwards was appointed Chief Inspector of Schools in Wales where he fought to ensure the teaching of Welsh language in schools. However, English was the medium of education in those schools, especially secondary schools. In this period, some national institutions were also established, such as the National Library and the National Museum.

Two names worth noting in that 30-year period are E.T. John, MP for East Denbighshire between 1910 and 1918, and J. Arthur Price. John was a keen nationalist who introduced a self-government bill in Parliament in March 1914, a bill which did not go very far. John refused to join Plaid Cymru in 1925, remaining loyal to the Labour Party after having left the Liberal Party in 1918. Despite this, J. E. Jones claims that he turned to Plaid ‘in his later years’.

  1. Arthur Price was a barrister and became a keen nationalist, writing a number of articles on Wales for the journals Y Genedl Gymreig, Welsh Outlook and Y Ddraig Goch. He wrote a very critical article on Tom Ellis, accusing him of selling his principles once he took up a Whip’s position in Gladstone’s 1892 Government. Although a High Churchman, he was very supportive of Welsh causes and corresponded with Saunders Lewis.

It should be noted that three conferences on autonomy were held in 1918, 1919 and 1922 but little came of them. A Speaker’s Conference was held on devolution in 1919 but there was little agreement on the way forward, with the Speaker supporting the establishment of Higher Councils only for Wales, Scotland and England. In 1922, a bill was introduced to establish a Legislative Parliament for Wales by Robert Thomas, MP for Wrexham, but his efforts were unsuccessful. By the way, Robert Thomas was later the MP for Anglesey.

And that brings us to the founding of the National Party of Wales in August 1925, one hundred years ago to this very month. Since the successes of Cymru Fydd were relatively small, though not completely insignificant, and the attempts to argue in favour of Welsh causes in the Westminster Parliament were generally a failure, the new party rejected engaging with British politics. Although some, including J.E Jones, saw Cymru Fydd as a preparatory movement, others saw the need to distance themselves from the failures of that movement.

Saunders Lewis intended to show such distance by arguing that all links with British political parties should be severed. In Saunders’s opinion, nothing would come to Wales through the English Parliament. Lewis Valentine said ‘Some insist that the new party is synonymous with the old Liberal Party in a new form. But it cannot be denied more strongly than to say that there is absolutely no connection between it and the old parties’. D. J. Williams believed the new party should not express views on discussions in Westminster, saying ‘I am of the opinion that the Party should not interfere at all in the affairs of the English Parliament’. And as I have already mentioned, Griffith John Williams said ‘It was essential to establish a Welsh Political Party’. The early ‘Sinn Fein-ist’ position of the new Party therefore was that a seat in Westminster should not be taken, should they win an election.

However, as elements of realpolitik penetrated the Party’s consciousness after the 1929 election – when Lewis Valentine’s candidacy attracted 609 votes – the policy of isolation began to loosen its grip and party members insisted that it would be necessary to go to Westminster and accept that Parliament as a platform to debate the Welsh cause. And more mixed feelings towards Cymru Fydd’s efforts started to appear. Lewis Valentine originally dismissed the efforts of people like Tom Ellis in the early days of Plaid Cymru, and that quite deliberately. A real distance had to be created in order to justify the argument in favour of establishing a new political party, and that’s what we would have done too I feel sure. But as things settled, the views of some of the early members changed. Lewis Valentine reviewed a booklet published by Plaid Cymru in 1956, namely Triwyr Penllyn. The booklet contained three chapters on the contributions of Michael D. Jones, O. M. Edwards and Tom Ellis to Welsh life. The authors were Gwenallt, Saunders Lewis and Gwenan Jones. Gwenan Jones by the way was the first woman to stand in a general election on behalf of Plaid Cymru. Lewis Valentine says about the book that it is one ‘to put a bit of iron in the blood and a bit of steel in our spine’ in the fight against the drowning of Capel Celyn.

When Gwynfor Evans was chosen as Plaid Cymru’s candidate in Meirionnydd at the 1945 election, he saw himself in the lineage of Michael D Jones, R.J. Derfel and Tom Ellis. Y Dydd, a weekly paper in the Dolgellau area, made a comparison between Tom Ellis and Gwynfor, describing them as ‘Two young men with a gentle and loving spirit but nevertheless strong.’ Llwyd o’r Bryn compared Gwynfor’s stance on Capel Celyn as being like Tom Ellis’s for the ‘martyrs’ of the Tithe War. But to give a measured view of Gwynfor’s own opinion about Tom Ellis, he says in ‘Aros Mae’:

This (his decision to take up a post in Gladstone’s government) was the single act that did most to stop the development of an independent Welsh party, and therefore hinder the movement for self-government.

He then said:

It is easy to blame Tom Ellis now, but we must remember that Welsh nationalism was only young at the time, and that it was reasonable for him to believe that great gains could be made for Wales through working within the system.

So what do we now claim was the connection between the Cymru Fydd movement and the founding of Plaid Cymru at that meeting in Pwllheli on 5 August 1925, a hundred years ago this week? Considering the words of those who were at Pwllheli in 1925, very little. Their intention, at that time, was to create as much of a gap as possible between themselves and the leaders of Cymru Fydd. Otherwise, how could they justify establishing an independent Welsh party and the original policy of refusing to do anything with the Westminster Parliament? As far as I can see, Saunders Lewis did not change his opinion about Cymru Fydd at all in his lifetime.

But as things developed, and Plaid Cymru became a constitutional political party, the position began to change. If we take the words of J. E Jones, Lewis Valentine in 1956 and Gwynfor himself, they accepted that the establishment of Cymru Fydd in 1886, the first movement in centuries to argue for self-government for Wales, for creating Welsh institutions and increasing national awareness among the Welsh, had created the circumstances in which a Welsh party could then be established in the twentieth century. Given that Cymru Fydd’s hold on the nation was a fragile one, and that a relatively small number of Liberal Members of Parliament actually supported it – no more than about 5 at most – it was no wonder it failed.

But at least the discussion had started, and learning the lessons of Cymru Fydd’s failure was one of Plaid Cymru’s main objectives. It was a party with its loyalty to Wales and no connection to British parties. Although its growth was gradual, what is remarkable about it is that it has maintained its existence for a century and is now, according to some opinion polls, within reach of heading the Welsh Government for the first time.

Would Plaid Cymru have been established in 1925 if Cymru Fydd had not started the discussion? An impossible question to answer of course. All I wish to say is that the ideology and influence of Cymru Fydd helped crystallise the early philosophy of Plaid Cymru, and created the space for a new party to develop. And the failure of Cymru Fydd gave it the proof that the only way forward was establishing a fully independent party.

Hanes Plaid Cymru