Sexism Mold style.

At a lecture given to Flintshire Historical Society last Saturday Bill Pritchard made us aware of an interesting piece of sexism in Mold. However, it is not a modern piece of discrimination, rather an example of the secondary position held by women in the early part of the 20th century. It can be witnessed at Mold Town Hall - perhaps now unknown to many - which is a reasonably impressive building opposite the Post Office.

It was built in 1911 with funds donated by  local worthy and landowner named Peter Roberts of Bronfield Hall. To the left of the door is a memorial stone marking his generosity.

To the right of the door is another memorial stone. But this one merely commemorates 'the wife of the donor'. She doesn't even get her name mentioned.

Hardly exciting: Prisoner of War

During the first part of the Second World War some 90,000 British soldiers and civilians were taken prisoner by the German and Italian armies. In an attempt to calm the natural anxiety of  family members the government produced a pamphlet explaining what being a POW actually meant in practice. I have been given an original copy of the pamphlet and it makes interesting reading. It was published in January 1942 sometime before the horrors of detention camps became known. The style of the pamphlet is purposely reassuring. The first page has a map showing the location of prisoner of war camps across occupied Europe (not that relatives could just pop over the channel and visit their loved ones). Top of the list is Colditz. The pamphlet includes a number of black and white photographs showing healthy looking men at work, in one they overlooked by a Nazi guard as they peel potatoes. In another men are working in the fields of 'sunny Italy'. From the photographs the camps look more akin the Butlins holiday resorts these soldiers might have visited in the 1930s. Even cricket matches were played, although for some reason - not immediately obvious - the Germans banned the traditional leather cricket ball. Camp theatrical groups and concert parties are pictured; the pamphlets requests donations of games and books to help the men pass the long hours. The publication does suggest that prisoners will have an opportunity to educate themselves through wider reading than might normally be the case.

It is understandable that the government should wish to calm the fears that relatives were having about their loved ones held in prisoner of war camps. To us it seems like a blatant piece of propaganda, but those were desperate times. In 1942 the tide of war had not yet turned and for those prisoners held against their will there seemed to prospect of returning to their homes. Read carefully, the pamphlet does contain clues as to the real state of some held in these camps. It mentions the depression suffered by detainees, in addition it asks that members of the public contribute in any way they can to provide parcels to the prisoners of war. They were not allowed to address parcels individually, but the Red Cross listed items that would be of use in the camps, including books, games, sports gear, and food of all kinds. Tobacco and cigarettes were highly prized items for the red cross parcels. They were transported via Spain, across France. and hence to Germany and Italy. As the tide of war turned against Germany it became more difficult for the parcels to reach the prisoners and their lives became more difficult. The pamphlet does not concern itself with Japanese prisoners of war as the conflict in that part of the world was still in its infancy.

Mini North-West Passage Audax Ride

It is still only February and I have cycled more miles this year than I can recall having done before. In January I completed an imperial century by riding 100 miles to the south of Manchester; today I completed a metric century with a 100km ride to the north of the same city. The ride today was based in Rochdale and headed north through a series of once great mill towns, such as Todmorden and Nelson. For me though it was more a case of dark satanic hills as we pushed on through torrential rain  for the first two hours. At times it became unpleasant as the roads resembled rivers. However after 50km or so the rain stopped and the sun even came out for a while; the scenery looking towards the Trough of Bowland is certainly memorable. It was not a day to stop so our first break did not come until three and a half hours of riding in a small but delightful Lancashire village called Waddington. Part of the ride took us into the West Riding of Yorkshire. The return to Rochdale was uneventful, although the temperature had dipped significantly by the time we reached the end. The West Pennine Cycling Club did a great organising the event; at the end we all received an enormous plate of pie and peas.

The total distance covered was 120km in a little over seven hours. The average speed of less than 20km per hour may not seem impressive, but we had countless delays as we cycled through the many towns and villages. All in all, a great experience in a fascinating part of the world.

Fort for the Day (or Cardiff)

Fort for the day (or Caerdydd) is a very bad joke, which many will not get, and they should not worry one bit. Anyway, today I enjoyed a day in our capital city. It is a place worthy of our great little nation. There is loads to see in Cardiff. Not the least being the very excellent National Museum, inspired by Caerwys' own Herbert Lewis. In the natural history section they have an enormous basking shark hanging from the ceiling.

Don't look behind you right now!

Outside the city hall I spotted a war memorial plaque to an unusual troop of Welsh (spelt Welch in this case) soldiers. Here it is:

The cycling regiment saw action in the Great War - it was formed in Cardiff itself. However men on bikes were no match for German machine guns, and as far as I am aware no regiments ever went to war on bicycles again.

Earlier this week I spotted the memorial in Rowen to Huw T Edwards the leading socialist in North Wales in the mid-20th century. In Cardiff they have a full figure statue to the greatest 'red' of them all, Aneurin Bevan - as the inscription reads - founder of the National Health Service.

 And finally as our time in Cardiff drew to a close, I caught this image of passengers seemingly colliding on the station platform:

Huw T Edwards: 'prime minister of Wales'

Huw T Edwards once described as the unofficial prime minister of Wales.

Today I went in search of this impressive memorial to Huw T Edwards. 'Huw Tom' was a man of the 20th century. He was born into a quarrying family near Penmaenmawr, and also worked in the coal mines of South Wales. In the Great War he was severely injured. However 'Huw Tom' is chiefly remembered as a trade unionist and politician. I came across him earlier this year when my son was studying his papers in the National Library of Wales for an undergraduate dissertation. Although Huw T Edwards hails from the dramatic hills above Penmaenmawr he spent much of his life in Flintshire, serving for many years as a senior figure in the Transport and General Workers Union. He was also a key figure in the Labour Party; his role in the selection of Eirene White as the Labour candidate for the Flintshire constituency in 1945 is worth examining. His private letters seems indicate that he was unsure that Flintshire was ready for a female MP. 'Huw Tom' was a Welsh nationalist, and at times struggled with his 'Labour' politics - he did in fact leave the party to join Plaid Cymru, but after a few years returned to the fold. He was also president of the Welsh Language Society for a time. He was not, it has to be admitted, a typical Flintshire politician. Nevertheless he has strong ties with North East Wales and he deserves further study. His memorial in the centre of Rowen is as impressive and tough as the man himself.

Weight Watchers and chips

As you can see, I have received my very own personalised invitation to return to Weight Watchers. I used to go to Weight Watcher meetings a few years ago and went through the weekly humiliation of being publicly weighed. My confidence in the Weight Watchers meetings somewhat collapsed when following the pre-Christmas weigh-in the organiser sent out for chips. Actually the system used by Weight Watchers was more-or-less the one I have used to shed the 6 stones in six month, involving counting calories (or points) and having a strict daily limit. So it probably can work; but keeping it off is the challenge.

Without Weight Watchers I managed to lose 36.2 bags of sugar.

Politics and prayer

The High Court ruled today that a Devonshire town council acted unlawfully by holding prayers before meetings. This was condemned on Twitter by the Tory bruiser Eric Pickles: 'I believe the right to worship is a fundamental and hard fought British liberty'. When exactly did the Church of England have to fight to secure religious freedom? Tough one. In the USA there would be no such debate at the First Amendment prevents any religious activity in the name of the state, even so Presidents often invoke god to join them on their side.

The High Court surely got this one right. Nobody is prevented from worshipping - within reason - any god they like, or none for that matter. Freedom of conscience is pretty secure in this country. Why, therefore, would a democratically elected body start proceedings with prayers from one creed rather than another. In a democracy all the people are of equal worth, and believers and non-believers have the right to stand for election and feel comfortable in their particular forum. This does not mean that individual members of the council should not be influenced by their religious or secular beliefs, it just should not be a feature of the institution itself. It is equally disreputable that our national parliament starts each day with Christian prayers; ironically (and rather pleasingly), they are read each day by the Speaker, Mr John Bercow, a member of the Jewish religion.

Let us move on. Freedom of conscience, freedom of religion, of course, but church and state should be separate.