Bells

Growing up I was actually a relatively bright student, always near the top of my class (but look what they've done to my song, Ma).  I was also an avid reader of... well, almost anything I could get my hands on.  I listened to a wide selection of music from my mother's huge and variegated yard-sale album collection. One might guess I'd be somewhat worldly or knowledgeable, but, in the pre-internet times information wasn't nearly as accessible. I could spend all Saturday afternoon in the library and not find what I can now find in 15 minutes sitting in my dinette chair.  This isn't to say it was worse -- I learned or experienced a lot from those hours in the library that the internet can't even begin to replicate. But still, I do have a point in bringing all this up.

I was exposed to a lot of music, fell in love with folk music, but I never really understood a lot of it other than superficially.  I couldn't look up "Pete Seeger" on wiki but might, instead, just see his face on an album cover with some blurb.  There was a lot going on about which I never had a clue.  As an adult, my love for folk music isn't as naïve and maybe not as exuberant, but it's deeper because I've studied the times, the people, the rhymes and the reasons.... not to a scholarly degree, but to a certain level where I can visualize the whole from all these scattered pieces in my life.

When I first heard the song "The Bells of Rhymney," I was in my mid-teens. We were poor, there's no doubt about that. My mother, who worked as a waitress, raised me alone.  But even poverty is relative. At the same age as when I first encountered this song, Idris Davies had already quit school to work underground in the coal mines of South Wales.  My poverty and his aren't even comparable.

Idris Davies worked in various collieries or coal pits from the end of WWI when he was 14 until the UK's great General Strike of 1926 when he was 21. He had lost all or part of a finger in a mine accident just before the strike (a marvelous display of solidarity in which workers all over the UK went on strike for 9 days in protest against the coal miners' mistreatment --  cutting their pay, increasing their hours underground).  After WWI ended, coal demand decreased dramatically and when Germany re-entered the coal market in 1925, the mine owners threatened even further pay cuts to maintain their profits at the workers' expense during the economic downturn.  The miners had seen their wage cut nearly in half between 1917 and 1925 and their lives were already barely sustainable. The miners disputed the owners' demands and millions were locked out of their jobs.  The Trade Union Congress called for a general strike. The strike, however glorious, was a dismal failure mostly due to the Trade Union's inept direction and the government's preparedness. The strikers gained absolutely nothing and were quickly forced to submit to the owners' pay cuts and longer hours. This almost destroyed the Union, at least as far as the miners go.  The depression hit and miners ended up being laid off or let go; mines closed, some temporarily, some permanently, and the coal industry in South Wales never recovered.  The worst part, perhaps, was the sense of betrayal by both the government, which seeing the strike as a revolutionary action, did its best to keep the strikers from getting any relief during the strike, furthering their misery and the Union who called the strike and then did little.

Davies left the mines and self-educated himself well enough to get into a teacher college. Writing poetry and teaching became his short life's work.

In 1938 his poem, "Gwalia Deserta" -- in 36 sections --  was published. Each section had it's own meter and rhyme. But what were are interested in here is only Section XV and it deals with the betrayal of the miners:

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 mineowner?
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.

This is what Pete Seeger stumbled upon in a collection of poems by Dylan Thomas who had read the poem in a radio broadcast. Seeger, doing what he did best, it to music... in this case, rather haunting music.

                                                      South Wales coal miners in 1931

"Say the Bells" is a motif earlier employed in an English nursery rhyme, Oranges and Lemons."
One version goes:

"Oranges and lemons," say the bells of St. Clements
“You owe me five farthings,” say the bells of St Martins.
“When will you pay me?” say the bells of Old Bailey.
"When I grow rich," say the bells of Shoreditch
"When will that be," Say the bells of Stepney
"I do not know," says the great bell of Bow

[post-edit] The bells are all from different mining towns spread throughout South Wales and each of these towns was affected in its own way by the betrayal of the companies, the union and the government.  But to me, the bells in the song rang in unison and solidarity.  Ask not for whom the bells toll, they toll for thee.

My first experience with this song came from the album "Judy Collins 3."  Later I heard the Byrd's version.  I came to Pete Seeger much later and only recently heard the covers by John Denver, Tommy Makem, Cher and the Ian Campbell folk Group.

Pete Seeger - The original but not in my opinion the best in this group.

John Denver - Denver's rendition, straight from his Chad Mitchell days, is haunting and quite remarkable. Before hearing this, I anticipated beautiful, but what I heard exceeded every expectation

The Byrds -- Along with Cher's version, rather trite and cut-rate.

Cher -- Much better than I thought it would be; much less than it could be.

Judy Collins -- Otherworldly. But since it was the only version I knew for a long time, it's one of my favorites.

Tommy Makem -- To me, by far, the best version. When Makem sings it, I feel it.

Ian Campbell Folk Group -- Short and harmonic but also short on feeling.

As always, it's nice to read a topic on the forums with some substance.

The music doesn't resonate with me, but it was interesting reading the history and lyrics.

My brother, perhaps a typical teenager, liked upbeat dance music, until one day as a young adult he went though a rough breakup. His girlfriend, with whom he'd had two kids, was suffering from mental issues made worse by her struggles with addiction. She disappeared leaving him with the young kids.

Suddenly he was listening to a lot of sad country music.

The point of the story is poetry and music communicate something about the human experience. And when we listen, we can explore that space, perhaps with a fellow traveler.

So even if this music doesn't resonate with me, it's interesting to learn a little more about the human experience, if only by proxy.

wow

Music is indeed personal.  When I was younger, it was the music itself... now, for me, it's all about the things that went into the music.  

By the way @batgirl I'm about 10 years younger than you, so I was growing up during the birth of the internet. I've never experienced what it's like to spend a day at the library. You talk about information being more convenient these days, but also something is lost. I can at least relate with chess books. I've done all my studying from books, but these days people are using all sorts of online materials. I tried a few times, but like you said, something is missing.

Maybe it was one of your articles, but I read somewhere about 19th century authors writing letters to each other about how the invention of the typewriter had changed their writing. Since it was now possible to write much more quickly than before, there was something missing, a slow, methodical, almost meditative way of writing. Sentences became simpler. I wonder if that has something to do with why google feels different than a library. Perhaps you could spend the weekend reading without finding what you were looking for, but you learned many things all the same, all while taking more time to contemplate.

My dear batgirl. Thank you for a beautiful diversion from the depressing events occurring in the outside world these days.

I would love to go back to my old hometown library . It was at the edge of a park and it was a small brick building. There was a old fashioned band stand in the park and a war time memorial to the men who fought in the World war.  My grandfather’s name was etched on the stone memorial and when I was young I used to make sure I visited it to read his name. I never knew him, he died many years before I was born.

but I digress. I think Bob Seegers version is heartfelt. I believe he had deeply felt empathy towards all workers as you well know.  And you can’t beat a good whistling..

Powerful stuff. Thanks!

I loved the John Denver version. It was a beautiful performance to receive.

Every thread has its qualities. Fabric, guitars, time... batgirl whips up a mean thread.

I'm less seasoned than both of you. As a hobby I love to study methodology, or rather the science of things, and I really liked that part about diluted experiences due to technology and the rushed way of life it brings with it. I also didn't grow up too lavishly, but my mother (a single parent) did the best she could (and more) on her menial job. She lived for us, really, so I'd hate to say I had it hard as a kid, something about that wouldn't be right.

Growing up, I spent much time alone, and I spent just as much time (if not more) with adults than I did with other kids. I guess one could say because of that I experienced a lot of contrast in my life, and I think that's what spurred my passion for the art beneath the art.

So I always enjoy batgirl's history posts, especially those with the sounds of music. I can't really say I like reading about chess much, but that's probably because I never knew much about chess until just a few years ago, it's culture hasn't quite set into skin.

Thanks for the music.

I grew up in a union family, through strikes and otherwise, and worked union myself when I was younger.  I went the way of small business and entrepreneurialism after education partly because of the destruction of industry and unions in the following decades via bad trade deals, outsourcing, shutdowns, etc.  Regardless, when you grow up and work in it, it remains a part of you no matter what happens the rest of your life.   I would agree Makem's version is quite nice.  I was moved by Denver's as well.  I was always a fan of his, and a thread of that sentiment always ran through his music.  He is sorely missed for sure.  If you get a chance sometime, you might enjoy, "There is Power in a Union: The Epic Story of Labor in America," by Philip Dray.  

"Never let a stranger in your cab, in your house, or in your heart, unless he is a friend of labor." - Hoffa

One of those songs, that mean little til you know the story behind it.

Bob Seger was too busy working on his Knight Moves.  I never heard his version.

That was partly my point...  many songs have stories.  You can ride with the tide, or you can dig for the gold.

I think I read that John Denver gave live performances of this song a couple times in South Wales.  I find his version exquisitely beautiful (like that of Judy Collins) but to me, that's not how it was meant to be presented. I find that of Tommy Makem (who often performed with the Clancy Brothers) truer.... a mix of anger, grit, hardness and determination better than wistfulness.  "to everything there is a season..."

I live in a state that's traditionally anti-union.  Unions do have their faults, but it think their value far outweigh whatever faults are inherent in such organizations.  Maybe they've outlived their usefulness.. I really don't know, but I do know up through the first half of last century, nobody stood up for the workers, so solidarity was their only recourse to unchecked exploitation.   the folk music movement and the labor movement were inextricably intertwined. ... then again, so was communism.  We have a very complex past.

@batgirl, honestly I missed the Tommy Makem version last night. Perhaps I was a little tired, or maybe just an excited bee.

I get what you feel about old Tommy's version. The song has a miner's spirit to it. It sort of overshadows the other versions once you've heard it. But I think Denver's is still my pick. I think it has something to do with that guitar.

😅 I only listened to Denver's rendition last night, truthfully. I've given them all some time this morning, and I have to say that Pete Seeger's version is the most emotional for me (so far) - not in any comparison to Tommy's version, and perhaps it's not specific to the song either. I also noticed he lived a very long life.

Denver's is of a master bard.

I enjoyed the rest as well, and I'd have to put Judy Collin's at the top of that group. 

and going on a knight’s tour.

I had forgotten to add that the bells are all from different mining towns spread throughout South Wales and each on these towns were affected in its own way by the betrayal of the companies, the union and the government.  But to me, the bells in the song rang in unison and solidarity.  Ask not for whom the bells toll, they toll for thee.

Ah that does make it more interesting, because when I first read it I thought the names were arbitrary.

I have Welsh heritage, mother’s side, and am a guitar player and songwriter, though not very accomplished. What a blessing to find this post today! Thank you, batgirl. I think you have a gift (who’s the giver?) and that all that time and effort spent reading and searching in the library served you well. Easy doesn’t often produce excellent, which this post is. Thanks again.