Keeping the Red Flag Flying
This weekend a festival in Wales remembers the 1831 Merthyr Rising, where workers demanding better wages seized control of their town and flew the red flag for the first time.
The Merthyr Rising of 1831, which gave birth to the socialist red flag, was a landmark event in Welsh and British working-class history, arriving as years of industrial unrest and revolt helped to form the class into a force aware of its own existence. The rising took place against a backdrop of a collapse in living conditions, with life expectancy within a working-class household falling to just 21 years of age. The horrors implied by the emergence of ‘frontier capitalism’ provoked a dramatic rise in the frequency of popular protest movements. The preceding years in Wales had already seen the Barley-Meal Riots of 1801 and the South Wales strike of 1816, which paralysed the coalfields.
These ‘taxations populaires‘ were undertaken for a variety of reasons from the removal of traditional wages to the imposition of ‘fair’ prices on food and the opposition to the exportation of grain. They reflected the agrarian practices relied upon by the south Walian working-classes in the decades before 1831. The Merthyr Rising itself represented a more modern form of protest. The Reform Crisis controversies of preceding years had inspired thousands of iron workers and coal miners to undertake industrial actions in the form of mass walk outs. These had been marked with speeches by radical figures such as Thomas Llewellyn, who argued that “everyone who was an enemy to Reform should be hung from the gallows.” Those words were not easily forgotten by the working-class communities of Merthyr Tydfil.
The Merthyr Rising also began as a mass walkout of iron workers from the Cyfartha iron works. They were demanding wage reform and a stop to the casualisation of labour. The strikers proceeded to march towards the town of Merthyr Tydfil, growing in support with their rallying cries of Caws a bara (Cheese and Bread) and I lawr â’r Brenin (Down with the King). The movement peaked on the 2nd of June when protestors led by Lewsyn yr Heliwr, or Lewis Lewis, marched on a meeting of local employers and magistrates. The protesters were later engaged by the 93rd Highland regiment. In the standoff, a number of protestors seized weapons from the soldiers, which prompted orders for them to fire on the crowd. Hundreds were injured and some twenty-four died during the confrontation, but the soldiers withdrew to the aristocratic houses on the outskirts and ceded the town itself to the workers.
The workers, in effective control of Merthyr Tydfil for a number of days, adopted the red flag as a representation of the blood shed during their confrontation with the soldiers. They flew it on banner poles topped with loaves of bread. It was from here that the red flag spread across the world as a symbol of the socialist and communist movement, inspiring Jim Connell’s lyrics in The Red Flag itself:
The people’s flag is deepest red,
It shrouded oft our martyred dead,
And ere their limbs grew stiff and cold,
Their hearts’ blood dyed its ev’ry fold.
The workers established militias, seized weapons and, led by those with combat experience, began to train. They successfully carried off a number of actions, turning back supply trains for the stranded soldiers, defeating dispatches from the Glamorgan and Swansea Yeomanry, and repelling cavalry sent from Penydarren House. Inspired by these actions, strikes spread to Northern Monmouthshire, Neath and Swansea Valleys. But the fighting in Merthyr Tydfil had frightened a number of the town’s residents and, by negotiating with a disillusioned faction, the soldiers managed to force a split. When a council meeting was called for June 6th, the had advanced knowledge. They marched on the proceedings, dispersed the crowds and restored their authority over the town.
In the aftermath, twenty-six people were arrested and put on trial. A number were imprisoned and sent to penal servitude in Australia but two leaders were sentenced to death: Lewsyn yr Heliwr (Lewis Lewis) for robbery and Dic Penderyn (Richard Lewis) for stabbing a soldier. Lewsyn yr Heliwr later had his sentence reduced to penal servitude after testimony from a soldier that he had protected him during a riot. Dic Penderyn was not so fortunate. Despite a mass petition by the people of Merthyr Tydfil claiming his innocence, he was hung at Cardiff Market in August of that year. In the years following, another man confessed to the murder and a leading witness against Penderyn claimed he had been encouraged to bear false witness.
The Merthyr Rising of 1831 still resonates in both Welsh and British working-class history. As Marxist historian Gwyn Alf Williams argued, this was in no small part to Dick Penderyn himself, the Welsh working-class’s first popular martyr. The story of thousands of workers coming together to fight their bosses and rulers continued to inspire future generations of Welsh miners, including Tribune’s own Nye Bevan. Fittingly, a group of socialists and trade unionists local to Merthyr came together six years ago, inspired by festivals such as Tolpuddle and the Durham Miners’ Gala, to create the Merthyr Rising Festival in honour of all those who fought in 1831.
This year the festival will ask why so many working-class towns in Wales, with deep socialist history, are turning to the right. The Merthyr Rising Festival is committed to retaining trade union politics in these communities and is backed by Unite trade union. Unite’s Regional Women’s and Equality Officer Jo Galazka explained the union’s support by saying, “Unite remembers the Merthyr rising of 1831, where thousands of workers stood up against the cruel and unequal practices of the iron masters and coal owners. These workers rose as an act of resistance against those employers who wish to exploit workers and communities, a practice which is increasingly prevalent in our society once again.” Even so many years on from that rising, and its red flag, workers continue to find relevance in its message.