Rhymney is the birth place of great grandmother Mary Jane Wilmott (nee Jones). It is also the place where her parents lived in their early married life before emigrating to Australia and where her father and younger siblings returned after their mother died.
The village of Rhymney, located about 80 kms north of Cardiff in eastern Wales, was founded in 1801 with the establishment of an iron works on what had been, up until then, a purely pastoral area. The iron works was established here due to the availability of coal, limestone and iron ore, all in the local area. Although the iron works closed in 1891, coal mining continued and was the almost exclusive source of employment for the township well into the 2oth century.
The celebrated Welsh poet Idris Davies was born in Rhymney (is it possible he was related to our 2nd great grandmother Mary Ann Davies?). His experiences of working in the mines at Rhymney, being injured there, and then experiencing the devastating impact of strikes in the early 20th century, have been a major source of his poetic inspiration.
The poem below was one of a series of short poems written about south-eastern Wales, reflecting the desolation of that part of the country following the decline of the mining industry in the 20th century. It was later re-written as a folk song called “The Bells of Rhymney” by Pete Seeger. Perhaps you can go to YouTube and listen to Pete sing his song while you read the poem. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vK_eVaLeiQ0
Gwalia Deserta XV (Wasteland of Wales)
by Idris Davies
O what can you give me?
Say the sad bells of Rhymney.
Is there hope for the future?
Cry the brown bells of Merthyr.
Who made the mine owner?
Say the black bells of Rhondda.
And who robbed the miner?
Cry the grim bells of Blaina.
They will plunder willy-nilly,
Say the bells of Caerphilly.
They have fangs, they have teeth
Shout the loud bells of Neath.
To the south, things are sullen,
Say the pink bells of Brecon.
Even God is uneasy,
Say the moist bells of Swansea.
Put the vandals in court
Cry the bells of Newport.
All would be well if — if — if —
Say the green bells of Cardiff.
Why so worried, sisters, why?
Sing the silver bells of Wye.