Chapter I: HAVE told you much about princes and soldiers, but very little about (2)

The Literary Meeting is a kind of secular Sunday School. The rules of alliterative poetry and the study of Welsh literature and history, and sometimes of more general knowledge, take the place of the study of Jewish history, and psalm, and gospel. The Literary Meetings feed the Eisteddvod.

The Eisteddvod passed through the same phases as the nation. It was an aspect of the court of the prince during the Middle Ages. In Tudor times it was used partly to please the people, but chiefly to regulate the bards by forcing them to qualify for a degree—a sure method of moderating their patriotism and of diminishing their number. In modern times the Eisteddvod is a great democratic meeting, and it is the most characteristic of all Welsh institutions. Its chairing of the bards is an ancient ceremony; its _gorsedd_ of bards is probably modern. But the people themselves still remain the judges of poetry; they care very little whether a poet has won a chair or not, while a _gorsedd_ degree probably does him more harm than good.

Elementary education, in its modern sense, began with the circulating schools of Griffith Jones of Llanddowror in 1730. They were exceedingly successful because the instruction was given in Welsh, and they stopped after teaching 150,000 to read not because there was no demand for them, but on account of a dispute about their endowments in 1779, eighteen years after Griffith Jones’ death. They were followed by voluntary schools, very often kept by illiterate teachers.

Between 1846 and 1848 two organisations—the Welsh Education Committee and the Cambrian Society—were formed; and they developed, respectively, the national schools and the British schools. After the Education Act of 1870, the schools became voluntary or Board; education gradually became compulsory and free; and in 1902 an attempt was made to give the whole system a unity and to connect it with the ordinary system of local government.

The training of teachers became a matter of the highest importance. In 1846 a college for this purpose was established at Brecon, and then removed to Swansea. From 1848 to 1862, colleges were established at Carmarthen, Carnarvon, and Bangor.

The history of secondary education is longer. It was served, after the dissolution of the monasteries, by endowed schools—like that of the Friars at Bangor—and by proprietary schools. By the Education Act of 1889, a complete system of secondary schools, under popular control, was established. Two of the endowed schools still remain—Brecon, founded by the religionists of the Reformation, and Llandovery, the Welsh school founded by a patriot of modern times.

It was principally for the ministry of religion that secondary schools and colleges were first established. Schools were founded in many districts, and important colleges at Lampeter (degree-granting), Carmarthen, Brecon, Bala, Trevecca, Pontypool, Llangollen, Haverfordwest. Many of these have a long history.

Higher education had been the dream of many centuries. Owen Glendower had thought of establishing two new universities at the beginning of the period of the Revival of Letters; among his supporters were many of the Welsh students who led in the great faction fights of mediæval Oxford. Oliver Cromwell and Richard Baxter had thought of Welsh higher education. But nothing was done. In the eighteenth century, and in the nineteenth until 1870, the Test Act shut the doors of the old Universities to most Welshmen; the new University of London did not teach, it only examined; the Scotch Universities, to which Welsh students crowded, were very far. In 1872, chiefly through the exertions of Sir Hugh Owen, the University College of Wales was opened at Aberystwyth, and maintained for ten years by support from the people. The Government helped, and two new colleges were added—the University College of South Wales at Cardiff in 1883, and the University College of North Wales at Bangor in 1884. In 1893 Queen Victoria gave a charter which formed the three colleges into the University of Wales. Lord Aberdare, its first Chancellor, lived to see it in thorough working order. On Lord Aberdare’s death, the Prince of Wales was elected Chancellor in 1896; and when he ascended the throne in 1901, the present Prince of Wales became Chancellor.

The tendency of the whole system of Welsh education is towards greater unity. There is a dual government of the secondary schools and of the colleges, the one by the Central Board and the other by the University Court—a historical accident which is now a blemish on the system. The Training Colleges are still outside the University, but they are gravitating rapidly towards it. The theological colleges are necessarily independent, but the University offers their students a course in arts, so that they can specialise on theology and its kindred subjects. The ideal system is: an efficient and patriotic University regulating the whole work of the secondary and elementary schools, guided by the willingness of the County Councils, or of an education authority appointed by them, to provide means.

The rise of the educational system is the most striking and the most interesting chapter in Welsh history. But the facts are so numerous and the development is so sudden that, in spite of one, it becomes a mere list of acts and dates.

XXIV LOCAL GOVERNMENT

THE French Revolution was condemned by Britain, and the voices raised in its favour in Wales were few. The excesses of the Revolution, and the widespread fear of a Napoleonic invasion, caused a strong reaction against progress. The years immediately after were years of great suffering, but the very suffering prepared the way for the progress of the future, because it made men willing to leave their own districts and to move into the coal and slate districts, where wages were high enough to enable them to live.

The first demand was for political enfranchisement. In 1832, in 1867, and in 1884 the franchise was extended, and every interest found a voice in Parliament. But, with the exception of the sharp struggle between the tenant and landlord after the Reform Act of 1867, the effects of enfranchisement on Wales have been very few. Two Acts alone have been passed as purely Welsh Acts—the Sunday Closing Act, and the Intermediate Education Act. In Parliament, the voice of Wales is weak even though unanimous; it can be outvoted by the capital or by four English provincial towns. Until quite recently its semi-independence—due to geography and past history—was looked upon as a source of weakness to the Empire rather than of strength. Its love for the past appeals to the one political party, its desire for progress to the other, but its distinctive ideals and its separate language are looked upon, at the very least, as political misfortunes. Education and justice have suffered from official want of toleration; the appointment of a County Court judge who could not speak Welsh, within living memory, has been justified by Government on the ground that Englishmen resident in Wales object to being tried by a Welsh judge.

Far more important to Wales than the Reform Acts are the Local Government Acts which followed them. When the Reform Act of 1884 added the agricultural labourer to the electors of representatives in Parliament, every interest had a voice. A further extension of the franchise would not affect the balance of parties, it was thought; and a British Parliament has no time or desire to think of sentiment or theoretical perfection. The Parliament found it had too much to do, the multiplicity of interests made it impossible to pay effective attention to them. The result has been that half a century of extension of the franchise has been followed by half a century of extension of local government. The County Council Act came in 1888, and the Local Government Act in 1894.

Of all parts of Britain, Wales had least local government, and needed most. Its justices of the peace were alien in religion, race, and sympathy; they were either country squires who had lost touch with the people, or English and Scotch capitalists who, with rare exceptions, took no trouble to understand the people they governed, or to learn their language. The vestry meeting had been active enough during the early part of the eighteenth century; but religious difficulties made it impossible for a semi-ecclesiastical institution to represent a parish. The Tudor policy had separated the people from the greater land-owners; the iron masters and coal-owners had not yet become part of the people; there was not a single institution except the Eisteddvod where all classes met.

In no part of the country was local government so warmly welcomed, and no part of the country was more ready for it. One thing the peasants had been allowed to do—they could build schools and colleges, churches and chapels. They had filled the country with these—their architecture, finance, government, are those of the peasant. The religious revivals had left organisers and institutions. Four or five religious bodies had a system of institutions—parish, district, county, central. All these were thoroughly democratic in character. When the Local Government Acts were passed, there was hardly a Welshman of full age and average ability who had not been a delegate or in authority; and those of striking ability, if they could afford the time, continually sat in some little council or other and watched over the interests of some institution.

It was from among these trained men that the councillors for the new county, district, and parish senates were elected. The work of the councils, especially that of the County Council, has been very difficult; and when the time comes to write their history, the historian will have to set himself to explain why the first councils were served by men who had extraordinary tact for government and great skill in financial matters. In the lower councils the village Hampden’s eloquence is modified by the chilling responsibility for the rates, but the Parish Councils have already, in many places, made up for the negligence of generations of sleepy magistrates and officials.

With a great difference, it is true, Wales under local government is Wales back again in the times of the princes. The parish is roughly the maenol, the district is the commote or the cantrev, the shire is the little kingdom—like Ceredigion or Morgannwg—which fought so sturdily against any attempt to subject it.

The local councils were fortunate in the time of their appearance. They came at a period characterised by an intense desire for a better system of education, and at a time of rapidly growing prosperity. A heavy rate was possible, and the people were willing to bear it. The County Councils were able to build over seventy intermediate schools within a few years; and that at a time when both elementary and higher education made heavy demands on what was still a comparatively poor county. The District Councils were able to lower the amount of outdoor relief considerably, and without causing any real hardship, for they had knowledge of their districts as well as the philanthropy that comes naturally to man when he grants other people’s money. The Parish Councils have become the guardians of public paths; they have begun to provide parish libraries, and the little parish senate educates its constituency and brings its wisdom to bear upon a number of practical questions, such as cottage gardens and fairs.

XXV THE WALES OF TO-DAY

THE most striking characteristic of the Wales of to-day is its unity—self-conscious and self-reliant. The presence of this unity is felt by all, though it may be explained in different ways. It cannot be explained by race; for the population of the west midlands and the north of England, possibly of the whole of it, have been made up of the same elements. It cannot be explained by language—nearly one half of the Welsh people speak no Welsh. Some attribute it to the inexorable laws of geography and climate, others to the fatalism of history. Others frivolously put it down to modern football. But no one who knows Wales is ignorant of it.

The modern unity of the Welsh people—seen occasionally in a function of the University, or at a national Eisteddvod, or in a conference of the County Councils—has become a fact in spite of many difficulties.

One difficulty has been the absence of a capital. The office of the University and the National Museum are at Cardiff, in the extreme south; the National Library is at Aberystwyth, on the western sea. The thriving industries, the densely populated districts, and the frequent and active railways, are in the extreme south or in the extreme north; and they are separated by five or six shires of pastures and sheep-runs, without large towns, and with comparatively few railways. In the three southern counties—Glamorgan, Monmouth, and Carmarthen—the population is between two and six people to 10 acres, and the industrial population is from twelve to three times the number of the agricultural. In the central counties—Brecon, Radnor, Cardigan, Merioneth, Montgomery—the population is below one for 10 acres; the industrial and agricultural population are about equal, except in Radnor, where the agricultural is more than two to one. Though Merioneth has more sheep even than Brecon—and each of them has nearly 400,000—its industrial population, owing to the slate districts, is double the agricultural. The population begins to thicken again as we get nearer the slate, limestone, and coal districts. In Denbigh it is two to the 10 acres, in Carnarvon it is three, and in Flint it rises to four or five. In these northern counties the industrial population is double or treble the agricultural. The fertile western counties of Pembroke and Anglesey come between the industrial and grazing counties in density of population. {4}

Unity has arisen in spite of differences caused by the intensity of a religious revival, an intensity that periodically renews its strength. The Welsh are divided into sects, and the bitterness of sectarian differences occasionally invades politics and education. But there are two ever-present antidotes. One is the Welsh sense of humour, the nearest relative or the best friend of toleration. The other is the hymn—creed has been turned into song, and that is at least half way to turning it into life; the heresy hunter is disarmed by the poetry of the hymn, and its music has charms to soothe the sectarian breast. The co-operation of all in the work of local government has also enlarged sympathy.

Unity has arisen in spite of the bilingual difficulty. Rather more than one half of the people now habitually speak English. For three centuries an Act—a dead letter from the beginning—ordered all Government officials to speak English; for many generations, until recently, Welsh children were not taught Welsh in schools, and they could not be taught English. The bilingual difficulty is now at an end. The two languages are taught in the schools, and as living languages. It is clear, on the one hand, that every one should learn English, the language of the Empire and of commerce. It is also clear that, on account of its own beauty as well as that of the great literature it enshrines, Welsh should be taught in every school throughout Wales.

Next to its unity, a characteristic of modern Wales is its democratic feeling. It is a country with a thoughtful and intelligent peasantry, and it is a country without a middle class. There is a very small upper class—the old Welsh land-owning families who once, before they turned their backs on Welsh literature, led the country. They have never been hated or despised, they are simply ignored. Their tendency now is to come into touch with the people, and they are always welcomed. But a middle class, in the English sense, does not exist. The wealthier industrial class is bound by the closest ties of sympathy to the farmer and labourer. The farmer’s holding is generally small—from 50 to 250 acres—and he always treats his servants and labourers as equals.

The three great levelling causes—religion, industry, {5} and education—have been at work in Wales in recent years. Education helps and is helped by equality. In town and country alike all Welsh children attend the same schools—elementary and secondary; and they proceed, those that do proceed, to the same University, and a university is essentially a levelling institution. The dialects, as well as the literary language, are recognised; and no dialect has a stigma. In this respect Wales is more like Scotland than England.

There is one other characteristic of modern Wales—a certain pride, not so much in what has been done, but in what is going to be done. Wales is small, though not much smaller than Palestine, or Holland, or Switzerland, and every part of it knows the other. There is a healthy rivalry between its towns and between its colleges; each town can show that it has done something for Wales in the past—by means of its industries, or school, or press. In the strong feeling of unity there is ambition to surpass, and each part lives in the light of the action of the other parts.

The day is a day of incessant activity—industrial, educational, literary, and political. What is true in the life of the individual is true in the life of a nation—a day of hard work is a happy day and a day of hope.

AN OUTLINE OF WELSH POLITICAL HISTORY

INFLUENCES UNDER WHICH THE HISTORY OF WALES WAS FORMED

1. The nature of its rocks—Igneous, Cambrian, Silurian, Old Red Sandstone, Limestone, Coal—all belonging to the Primary Period. Its rocks

(_a_) explain its scenery;

(_b_) explain its wealth, the richest part of Britain in minerals.

2. The configuration of its surface.

(_a_) It is isolated, its mountains being surrounded by the sea, or
rising sharply from the plains. It is part of the range of mountains
which runs along the whole of the west coast of Britain; but the range
is broken at the mouth of the Severn and at the mouth of the Dee.

(_b_) It is divided, its valleys and roads radiating in all
directions. So we have in its history

A. Wars of Independence.

B. Civil War.

THE PEOPLE WHO CAME INTO WALES

1. The Iberians—a general name for the short dark people who still form the greater part of the nations. They had stone weapons, and lived in tribes; they became subject to later invaders, but gradually became free. Their language is lost.

2. The Celts—a tall fair-haired race, speaking an Aryan tongue. It was their migration that was stopped by the rise of Rome. Four groups of mountains, four nations (Celtic and Iberian), four mediæval kingdoms, and four modern dioceses can be remembered thus:

i. Snowdonia Decangi Gwynedd Bangor
ii. Berwyn Ordovices Powys St Asaph
iii. Plinlimmon Demetae Dyved St David’s
iv. Black Mountains Silures Morgannwg Llandaff

3. The Romans. They made roads, built cities, worked mines.

50–78. The Conquest. The Silures were defeated in 50, the
Decangi in 58, the Ordovices in 78.
80–200. The Settlement. Wales part of a Roman province
including Chester and York.
200–450. The struggle against the new wandering nations. The
introduction of Christianity.
450– The House of Cunedda represents Roman rule.

4. The English.

577. Battle of Deorham. Wales separated from Cornwall. 613. Battle of Chester. Wales separated from Cumbria.