Amgueddfa Cymru — National Museum Wales


Here at St Fagans the winter has passed and spring is on its way – here at the Derwen Bakehouse we can hear the lambs bleating in the fields as we work. We’ve had our annual facelift, and with painting and repairs all done it’s time to coax the oven back into life. (The oven is affectionately known to us as Idris the fire breathing Dragon - he can be a temperamental beast sometimes!)

Traditional Welsh baking is a vital part of what we do here at the bakehouse, which started life as a family run business in Abersytwyth. It was originally built in 1900 by Evan Jenkins, a local farmer, as a business for his two daughters, Catherine Jane and Mary Elizabeth.  My mother Christine had the honour of re-firing the oven and baking the first batch of bread when the building was re-opened here at the Museum in 1987. Although she sadly passed away last summer we still use the recipes that she and museum researcher Minwel Tibbott worked so hard to collect.

Over the winter, myself and the team have been developing ideas to add some new products to our range. We are surrounded by fruit herbs and veg in the museums gardens so there’s plenty to inspire us. Some of my favourites so far have been rhubarb bread, pear and chocolate cake and Pembroke Buns. 

But it’s nearly Easter and here at the bakehouse some things never change – we’ll be spending Good Friday crossing and glossing the buns (with a bit of sampling for quality control of course!!!). We’re looking forward to meeting all our customers again over the coming months. The smell of fresh bread brings back fond memories for many people - so if you’re in the Museum, follow your nose to the bakehouse and come and say hello.


Blog by Katrina Lloyd.

This week marks the centenary of the St Fagans Red Cross VAD Hospital which opened in the grounds of St Fagans Castle on 22 March 1916. This blog looks at three examples of needlework made by serving soldiers from the collection, including a delicate piece of beadwork hand-crafted by a patient at the St Fagans auxiliary hospital.

Patchwork chest of drawers cover (1883)

Richard Evans from Llanbrynmair served with the Army in India. While stationed there in 1883, he supposedly made this striking patchwork chest of drawers cover as a present for his mother. The back is marked with a handwritten dedication in black ink: Rhodd i fy mam Sarah Evans 1883 (A gift for my mother Sarah Evans 1883).

The bold geometric design is stylistically very similar to other patchworks made by soldiers of this period. The Victoria & Albert Museum has a large bedcover in its collection attributed to Private Francis Brayley, whose regiment was based in India between 1864 and 1877. Both Richard Evans and Francis Brayley made their patchworks from thick woollen cloths, likely to be off-cuts or remnants of military uniforms.

Needlework was considered a very useful skill for soldiers to learn, not only to maintain and repair their kit, but also as a method of relaxation – a distraction from the temptations of alcohol and gambling. Textile crafts were also used as occupational therapy for injured soldiers, as depicted by the artist Thomas William Wood in his painting of Private Thomas Walker. Held by the Hunterian Museum, the painting shows the convalescing soldier stitching a patchwork quilt from his sick-bed.

Sweetheart pincushion (1914 - 1918)

Private Brinley Rhys Edmunds from Barry died of dysentery while imprisoned at Konigsbruck in September 1918. During the War, he made this heart-shaped pincushion for his mother – possibly at a military training camp or barracks. The centre of the pincushion features the insignia of the Welsh Regiment and the motto Gwell Angau na Chywilydd (Better Death than Dishonour). Known as ‘sweetheart’ pincushions, many thousands have survived in museums and family collections, although very little is known about their production and distribution. The uniformity of these pincushions suggests they were produced as craft kits for soldiers and civilians to assemble.

Beadwork butterfly (1918)

Corporal Walter Stinson, a painter from Battersea, was a patient at the St Fagans Red Cross Hospital in early 1918. While recuperating from injuries sustained in France, he made this intricate butterfly belt buckle from tiny glass beads. It seems that he and his fellow patients made and sold similar pieces in aid of the Evening Express Prisoners of War Fund. The following note was published in the Western Mail on 19 April 1918.

Yesterday’s total of £38 15s 6d sent to the Evening Express Prisoners of War Fund included… £10 from the patients at St Fagans Red Cross VAD Hospital (proceeds of bead work).

According to Walter Stinson’s descendants, the Prince of Wales bought one of his pieces at an exhibition in Cardiff. He was discharged from the Army on 3 December 1918 for being no longer physically fit for service.

To discover more about the use of textiles and needlework to commemorate, celebrate, mourn and heal during the First World War, take a look at Amgueddfa Cymru's online collections database. And as we continue to mark the centenary of the St Fagans Red Cross Hospital, follow the hashtags #Hospital100 #Ysbyty100 on Twitter.



We are 6 months old now and still going strong.  We have achived loads in that time, such as treating 130 objects and sorting out the support collection so we can use the objects on site.  We have also produced handcrafted soft furnishings to help improve interpretation in the houses, plus introduced traditional skills back into the historic buildings by using herbs to protect our textiles from pests and creating rag rugs to keep the dust down. Not to mention learning to spin the wool from our sheep.  Phew what a lot!

We are now well settled into our cottage at Llwyn yr eos farm at St. Fagans and even reinstated the open fireplace, which has been a welcome boost to the heating on colder days this winter.  Also it's good for toasting teacakes!

Yesterday we put our work on show during a one day seminar in Cardiff ' Small Changes Add Up' organised by the the Wales Council for Voluntary Action and the Museum. Here are some photos


Teclynnau Pren

Mae’n siwr y gallwch restri llawer o’r delweddau sydd o’n cwmpas mewn siopau ac yn y cyfryngau yn ystod adeg y Pasg:  wyau siocled lliwgar, cywion a chwningod bach fflwfflyd, y lili wen a theisennau simnel i enwi rhai ohonynt.

Ond tybed a ydych chi’n gwybod beth yw’r ddau declyn yn y lluniau ar y dde?


Arferion y Pasg

Yr wythnos hon bûm yn gwrando ar recordiadau yn yr Archif Sain yn ymwneud ag arferion y Pasg.  Ceir sôn am ystod eang o draddodiadau:  eisteddfota; “creu gwely Crist”; canu carol Basg; torri gwallt a thacluso’r barf ar ddydd Iau Cablyd er mwyn edrych yn daclus dros y Pasg; bwyta pysgod, hongian bwnen a cherdded i’r eglwys yn droednoeth ar ddydd Gwener y Groglith; yfed diod o ddŵr ffynnon a siwgr brown ar y Sadwrn cyn y Pasg; dringo i ben mynydd i weld yr haul yn “dawnsio” gyda’r wawr a gwisgo dillad newydd ar Sul y Pasg; chwarae gêm o gnapan ar Sul y Pasg Bach (sef y dydd Sul wedi’r Pasg).


Clapio Wyau

Ond y traddodiad a dynnodd fy sylw fwyaf oedd yr arfer ar Ynys Môn o fynd i glapio wyau.  Byddai mynd i glapio (neu glepio) cyn y Pasg yn arfer poblogaidd gan blant yr ynys flynyddoedd yn ôl, a dyna yw’r ddau declyn y gellir eu gweld ar y dde:  clapwyr pren.

Yn ôl Elen Parry a anwyd yn y Gaerwen yn 1895 ac a recordiwyd gan yr Amgueddfa yn 1965:

Fydda ni fel rheol yn câl awr neu ddwy dudwch o’r ysgol, ella rhyw ddwrnod neu ddau cyn cau’r ysgol er mwyn cael mynd i glapio cyn y Pasg.  Fydda chi bron a neud o ar hyd yr wsnos, ond odd na un dwrnod arbennig yn yr ysgol bydda chi’n câl rhyw awr neu ddwy i fynd i glapio.  Bydda bron pawb yn mynd i glapio.  A wedyn bydda’ch tad wedi gwneud beth fydda ni’n galw yn glapar.  A beth odd hwnnw?  Pishyn o bren a rhyw ddau bishyn bach bob ochor o bren wedyn, a hwnnw’n clapio, a dyna beth odd clapar.

Byddai’r plant yn mynd o amgylch y ffermydd lleol (neu unrhyw dyddyn lle cedwid ieir) yn curo ar ddrysau, yn ysgwyd y clapwyr ac yn adrodd rhigwm bach tebyg i hwn:

Clap, clap, os gwelwch chi’n dda ga’i wŷ

Geneth fychan (neu fachgen bychan) ar y plwy’

A dyma fersiwn arall o’r pennill gan Huw D. Jones o’r Gaerwen:

Clep, Clep dau wŷ

Bachgen bach ar y plwy’

Byddai’r drws yn cael ei agor a’r hwn y tu mewn i’r tŷ yn gofyn “A phlant bach pwy ’dach chi?”  Ar ôl cael ateb, byddai perchennog y tŷ yn rhoi wŷ yr un i’r plant.  Yn ôl Elen Parry:

Fe fydda gyda chi innau pisar bach, fel can bach, ne fasgiad a gwellt ne laswellt at waelod y fasgiad.  Ac wedyn dyna wŷ bob un i bawb.  Wel erbyn diwadd yr amsar fydda gyda chi ella fasgedad o wyau.

Fel arfer, byddai trigolion y tŷ yn adnabod y plant ac os byddai chwaer neu frawd ar goll, byddid yn rhoi wŷ i’r rhai absennol yn un o’r basgeidiau.  Dyma ddywedodd Mary Davies, o Fodorgan a anwyd yn 1894 ac a recordiwyd gan yr Amgueddfa yn 1974:

A wedyn, os bydda teulu’r tŷ yn gwbod am y plant bach ’ma, faint fydda ’na, a rheini ddim yno i gyd, fydda nhw'n rhoed wyau ar gyfer rheini hefyd iddyn nhw.


Wyau ar y Dresel

Ar ôl cyrraedd adref byddai’r plant yn rhoi’r wyau i’w mam a hithau yn eu rhoi ar y dresel gydag wyau’r plentyn hynaf ar y silff uchaf, wyau’r ail blentyn ar yr ail silff ac yn y blaen.

Gellid casglu cryn dipyn o wyau gyda digon o egni ac ymroddiad.  Yn ôl Joseph Hughes a anwyd ym Miwmaris yn 1880 ac a recordiwyd gan yr Amgueddfa yn 1959:

Bydda amball un wedi bod dipyn yn haerllug a wedi bod wrthi’n o galad ar hyd yr wythnos.  Fydda ganddo fo chwech ugian.  Dwi’n cofio gofyn i frawd fy ngwraig, “Fuost ti’n clapio Wil?”, “Wel do”, medda fo.  “Faint o hwyl ges ti?”, “O ches i mond cant a hannar”.


Math o Gardota?

Er bod pawb fel arfer yn rhoi wyau i’r plant, mae’n debyg y byddai rhai yn gwrthod ac yn ateb y drws gan ddweud “Mae’r ieir yn gori” neu “Dydy’r gath ddim wedi dodwy eto”.  Byddai rhai rhieni hefyd yn gyndyn i’w plant fynd i glapio gan eu bod yn gweld yr arfer fel math o gardota.  Dyma ddywedodd un siaradwr:

Fydda nhad fyth yn fodlon i ni fynd achos oedd pawb yn gwybod pwy oedd nhad.  Wel fydda nhad byth yn licio y byddan ni wedi bod yn y drws yn begio, ond mynd fydda ni.



Mae’n fendigedig gweld fod yr arfer o glapio wedi ei adfywio bellach ar Ynys Môn ac felly, mae’n debyg am un wythnos o'r flwyddyn, unwaith eto yng Nghymru, mae’n ddiogel ac yn dderbyniol i roi eich holl wyau yn yr un fasged!

Dwi’n siŵr eich bod, fel finna yn dotio gweld yr ŵyn bach adeg hyn o'r flwyddyn, ac wedi bod yn cadw llygaid ar y diweddaraf o'r Sgrinwyna sy'n cofnodi'r genedigaethau ar fferm Llwyn-yr-eos, yma yn Sain Ffagan.

Erbyn heddiw ystyrir cig oen fel ein danteithfwyd cenedlaethol, a dwi’n siŵr y bydd amryw ohonoch yn mwynhau gwledda ar gig oen wedi ei rostio dros Sul y Pasg. Be sy’n syndod yw mai tan yn gymharol ddiweddar, ni fwytawyd llawer o gig oen yma yng Nghymru. Cedwid defaid ar gyfer eu gwlân a’u llefrith, nid ar gyfer eu cig. Dim ond ar achlysuron arbennig y bwytawyd cig oen, gan ei fod yn fwy proffidiol i gneifio a gwerthu gwlân y ddafad.

Wrth chwilota trwy’r archif, prin iawn yw’r ryseitiau sy’n cynnwys cig oen. Ond yr hyn sydd yn rhan o’n traddodiad, ac sy’n profi dadeni ar hyn o bryd yw cig dafad – sef cig o anifail a gedwid rhwng tair a phum mlynedd. Tan y 1940au, roedd cig dafad yn ffefryn ar draws Prydain a’r consensws oedd bod ei flas a’i ansawdd yn rhagori ar gig oen. Wrth deithio o amgylch Cymru ym 1862, fe brofodd George Borrow gig dafad am y tro cyntaf, a bu’n canu ei glodydd:

The leg of mutton of Wales beats the leg of mutton of any other country, and I had never tasted a Welsh leg of mutton before. Certainly I shall never forget that first Welsh leg of mutton which I tasted, rich but delicate, replete with juices derived from the aromatic herbs of the noble Berwyn, cooked to a turn, and weighing just four pounds ... Let anyone who wishes to eat leg of mutton in perfection go to Wales.

           George Burrow Wild Wales: Its People, Language and Scenery, 1862

Felly pam fod cig dafad wedi mwy neu lai diflannu o’n basgedi siopa a’n bwydlenni? Gyda gostyngiad ym mhris gwlân yn ystod degawdau cyntaf y 1900au, roedd yn talu i ffermwyr werthu ŵyn gwrywaidd ar gyfer cig, yn hytrach na’u cadw i roi gwlân. Rhaid cofio hefyd fod cig dafad yn cymryd tipyn yn hirach i'w goginio, felly nid yw'n syndod iddo gael ei ddisodli gan gig oen sy'n yn cymryd chwarter yr amser.

Dros y degawd diwethaf, fodd bynnag, mae cig dafad wedi cynyddu yn ei boblogrwydd unwaith eto, gyda mwy o fwytai, ffermydd, siopau cig a chogyddion enwog yn gwerthu a hyrwyddo'r cig arbennig yma. Er ei fod ar gael drwy’r flwyddyn, mae ar ei orau rhwng mis Hydref a Mawrth. Felly tymor cig oen yw hi ar hyn o bryd, ond erbyn yr Hydref, cofiwch edrych allan am gig dafad yn ei siop cig lleol.

Dyma rysáit o’r archif, mae’r dull o goginio’r pryd hwn yn amrywio, ond dyma fersiwn teulu o Garnfadrun, Llŷn:

         Tatws Popty

          darn o gig dafad




Llenwi gwaelod y tun cig â thatws a nionod, a’u gorchuddio â dŵr.  Rhoi darn mawr o gig eidion neu gig dafad ar wyneb y tatws a rhostio’r cwbl yn y popty.