The Semi-Mythical Maelgwn Gwynedd Pt 4

On The Ruin of Britain is the foremost historical document detailing Maelgwn Gwynedd's life, therefore it's worth dissecting precisely what the saint said.

It's obviously written in a great deal of anger, outrage and self-righteous pomp, but nevertheless it's a contemporary primary source. The saint wrote it knowing that not only Maelgwn, but every other literate Briton would probably read it too.

Naming and shaming as an open letter was pretty much the impetus here. It had to contain some recognizable facts, or else it would have been exposed as lies from the start, thus failing in its purpose.

Even though Maelgwn had killed his uncle, in Gildas's mindset all was well once the young man took a vow to become a monk. Repentance in a monastery wiped clean the sins of the past.

So we'll begin there. The blemish-free character of Maelgwn Hir the Monk was such that he resisted all temptation to break his oath to God. Or, as Gildas waffled it:

... having burst through those toils in which such great beasts as thyself were used to become entangled, whether it were love of rule, of gold, or silver, or, what is stronger still, the fancies of thy own heart. And didst thou not, as a dove which cleaves the yielding air with its pinions, and by its rapid turns escapes the furious hawk, safely return to the cells where the saints repose, as a most certain place of refuge?

In other words, Maelgwn was steadfast against wealth, power and romance/carnal desires. Some hawkish influence (friends? family?) was trying to entice him out of the monastery, but nothing that they offered could sway him.

In fact, the devoutly Catholic Maelgwn actively avoided their clutches. He was where he wanted and needed to be. So what changed?

Oh what great rewards in the kingdom of Christ would have been laid up for thy soul against the day of judgment, if that crafty wolf had not caught thee, who of a wolf wast now become a lamb (not much against thine own will) out of the fold of our Lord, and made thee of a lamb, a wolf like unto himself, again? Oh how great a joy would the preservation of thy salvation have been to God the Father of all saints had not the devil, the father of all castaways, as an eagle of monstrous wings and claws, carried thee captive away against all right and reason, to the unhappy band of his children?

Apparently a wolf and an eagle 'abducted' Maelgwn and led him into bad ways. Or sprung him from the monastery anyway, considering that St Gildas is not at all convinced that Maelgwn wasn't an accomplice in his own removal. (Words emboldened by me, not Gildas.)

So who were the 'crafty wolf' and monstrously winged eagle?

St Gildas mentioned wolves before. When he hurtled through the history of Britain, he referred to the Saxons as being invited 'like wolves into the sheepfold', then later described more 'wolf-cubs' coming to join them.

Maelgwn could technically have been persuaded by Saxons to leave his monastery, but it seems highly unlikely. Particularly when Gildas's earlier references weren't about the standards of any Saxon leader. It was more allegoric. The Pagans were loose amongst the lambs of God.

Gildas also discussed the legend of Britain's foremost Christian martyr St Alban. After the saint performed a miracle en route to his death, his executioner was struck with awe and converted to Christianity. Or, as Gildas put it, 'from a wolf became a lamb'.

It seems to me that, in Gildas's parlance, 'wolf' means Paganism and 'lamb' signifies Christianity.

With this symbolism in mind, it's quite easy to read what the saint is saying about Maelgwn here:

'...who of a wolf wast now become a lamb... out of the fold of our Lord, and made thee of a lamb, a wolf like unto himself, again?'

Maelgwn had been decidedly Pagan. He converted to Christianity, became a monk, then was converted back into Paganism. So there was the wolf, what about the eagle?

Gildas only referred to eagles on one other occasion. Also in his historical section, he had been describing attacks upon the British by Picts and Scotti. Suddenly he switched to a discussion of invaders from beyond the sea - which could possibly still be the Scotti, as they originated in Ireland. They would later over-run Alba renaming it Scotland. These were dismissed merely as 'wolves', who took plunder home, while leaving ruined lives, settlements and crops behind.

Envoys from Britain met with representatives from the recently departed Roman Empire. A legion was sent to help the British, supported by mariners and cavalry. It only happened once, but the Romans won the day. Their cavalry was 'like a flight of eagles'.

That's it. That's the mention. But the context is all wrong. Those eagles had 'compassion' and 'human nature'. Maelgwn's eagle is a monster and a castaway. No more clues in Gildas then.

Fortunately Welsh legend provides us with both an eagle and a wolf as castaways, and they were deposited just up the road.

Her faithful Coll did not let her go alone. He'd held onto her bristles from the outset, and he was still with her as she reached the shores of Aberdarogi, in Gwent-Is-Coed. In her panic, she charged across Wales, dragging the hapless swineherd with her.

Yet part of the reason for her great size was that she was pregnant. In Gwent, she gave birth to three grain and three bees. The former was the best wheat ever known to Britain, and the latter produced its greatest honey.  In Dyfed, she bore barley and a little pig, which went on to sire more. Best barley and pigs ever.  On the Llyn Peninsula, Henwen birthed grains of rye, henceforth the Llyn grows the most wonderful rye.

Then, beneath the slopes opposite (Rhiwgyverthwch), the sow went into labor again. This time delivering a wolf-cub and an eagle. They went to Brynach Wyddel (Irishman of the Hill) of Dinas Affaraon (now Dinas Emrys) and Benwaedd (Great Shout, Loud Cry), Ruler of Arllechwedd (region of Gwynedd from Conwy to Caernafon).

Finally Henwen reached Arfon (of Caernafon fame), where she gave birth to a cat. Coll ap Collfrewi, who had held on all this time, threw the moggy into the Menai Straits, where it swam to Ynys Mon. There the Palug (ap Lugh? Sons of Lugh) brothers found and raised it.

The story doesn't tell what happened to Coll and his sow Henwen from this point on.

But the Cath Palug (Palug's cat) grew to a monstrous size, terrorized the island and consumed nine chieftains. Arthur's right hand man Cai killed it with nine spears piercing its side at Llewon.

I do hope that you realized, somewhere along the way, that Henwen wasn't a real sow. Some analysts have concluded that she was a ship, with Coll her captain, bringing exotic goods from afar. Others are modern day Druids, and they have not.

What appears to be happening here - after much nifty cross-referencing with symbolism and references from other Welsh legends - is the progress of a Pagan revival during the time of Arthur.

Coll existed way before this period. He's elsewhere named alongside Celtic Gods like Math ap Mathonwy and Gwydion ap Don. As one of the divine founders of Druidry, he must have made that journey once before, possibly minus Arthur's involvement. Swineherd is a euphemism for Druid.

The sow is the Goddess Cerridwen, well known for her transformations, and who is elsewhere named as the mother of Cath Palug. She can equally be the Muse of Poetry, the Goddess of the Underworld, and a fertility avatar complete with cornucopia. She ticked just about all of those boxes here.

Brynach Wyddel is usually placed in the vicinity of Beddgelert (Grave of Gelert), which is famous for its wolf legend. In the area around are plenty more references too. Towering over all is Dinas Emrys, which is where the story places him. This is the hill now associated with Merlin. It's also where the Red Dragon and the White Dragon battle it out for the Sovereignty of Britain.

Elsewhere Brynach Wyddel is called Eiddilig Gorr (Tiny the Dwarf), a dead giveaway for the God Beli Mawr, aka Irish Balor. In whatever guise, Beli generally turns up when there's a Sovereignty tale to tell. As does the loud shriek apparently emitting from Gwynedd.

Meanwhile said Gwynedd is crying out for a chieftain. Literally - Benwaedd, Lord of Arllechwedd - Piercing Cry of Maelgwn's own heartland, coupled with Beli Mawr accepting the wolf in his care.

Is this a good time to point out that Maelgwn translates as Warrior Hound, or Princely Dog (feel free to mix and match the adjectives)? Amongst the canine breeds, the wolf really does reign supreme.

And the eagle is a Druidic totem indicating wisdom, intelligence, the wide overview, keen sight and spiritual truths. It's often used as a stand in for the Druidic faith itself.

There is only one moment, during the proposed Arthurian period, when the throne of Gwynedd is empty. That is between the death of Cadwallon Hir and the ascension of his son Maelgwn Gwynedd. It has long been seen as the impetus for Maelgwn leaving the monastery, but this legend, and Gildas's referencing of the wolf and the eagle in his condemnation, fill in the blanks.

Maelgwn did go home, and he accepted the metaphorical gift of an eagle.  He embraced Druidry. He took as his emblem the Red Dragon, linked so keenly with Dinas Emrys, where the father God Beli held the wolf.

As for the Cath Palug, could that be the rise of Druidism as a minor force to be reckoned with upon Ynys Môn again?  Or a euphemism for Maelgwn and his Bards, who Gildas most definitely thought were caterwauling?

Finally St Gildas gets to the main charge against Maelgwn Gwynedd. This is what he prioritizes above everything else. Adultery with Sannon; the murder of Nesta and Sannon's husband; marrying again, or at all, when he's taken vows as a monk; none of that takes precedence over this:

'... for now thou dost not listen to the praises of God sweetly sounded forth by the pleasant voices of Christ's soldiers, nor the instruments of ecclesiastical melody, but thy own praises (which are nothing) rung out after the fashion of the giddy rout of Bacchus by the mouths of thy villainous followers, accompanied with lies and malice, to the utter destruction of the neighbor, so that the vessel prepared for the service of God, is now turned to a vessel of dirt, and what was once reputed worthy of heavenly honor, is now cast as it deserves into the bottomless pit of hell.'

In short, Maelgwn's got Bards in his court. The saint doesn't like them, because they flatter Maelgwn, thus encouraging him in this behavior.

And in case you found that a little ambiguous, St Gildas hammers home the point later on:

'The harp, and the lyre, and the tabor, and the pipe, and wine are in your banquets, and the work of our Lord ye respect not, neither yet consider ye the works of his hands.'

And again:

'"They shall lament all of them who now in heart rejoice, the delight of the timbrels hath ceased, the sound of the gladsome shall be silent, the sweetness of the harp shall be hushed, they shall not with singing drink their wine, bitter shall be the potion to the drinkers thereof.'

And again:

'Their cow hath not been abortive, their great with young hath brought forth her young ones and not missed, but remaineth as an eternal breed; and their children rejoice, and taking the psaltery and harp, have finished their days in felicity and fallen peaceably asleep down into hell."'

And again:

'Let not, therefore, our wicked transgressors (while they do not openly sacrifice to the gods of the Gentiles) flatter themselves that they are not idolaters, whilst they tread like swine the most precious pearls of Christ under their feet.'

And again:

'Receive ye the true and public avoucher, witnessing, without any falsehood or flattery, the reward of your good and evil, not like the soothing humble lips of your parasites, which whisper poisons into your ears.'

I'm not going to go on, though Gildas did. The above are merely a selection from many pages worth of attacking Maelgwn on the issue, whilst also broadening the scope to condemn Britain's priests for letting it happen.

The matter of harps in Maelgwn's court was clearly of some concern. But why?

Not mentioned, but implicit, is that Bards came from the Druid religion. They constituted its whole second branch. They sing about the old ways, British legends and history. They're passing on the British oral tradition, instead of devoting their lives to singing praise to God. We know this because the Bards are precisely the people who retained that information, so that we can access it today.

Maelgwn did listen. He instructed his Bards that they had to perform a Christian song before they launched into their main repertoire. We know this because Taliesin whinged about how universally bad at it they were.

Presumably by then even God wanted to kick Gildas hard for causing Him to have to sit through it!

So was Maelgwn as Pagan as Gildas seems to imply?

In the fifth and final part of this Maelgwn Gwynedd series, we'll explore the evidence from his clashes with the Welsh bards. Starting here by my drawing your attention to there being bards present to actually provide it. Their tradition being one of the three branches of Druidism and all.

Check back soon to read it.