St Tydecho and St Tegfedd: Druidic Deities as Welsh Saints

His sister St Tegfedd (pron. Teg-veth) is sometimes said to have followed him there, or else she arrived with him. Despite her brother's wild lodgings, she is never stated to have been a hermit too. Some chroniclers fudge over the contradiction by imagining a home for her down in the valley. But that's never mentioned in their histories.

She too has lent her name to churches in the region. And further afield too! One in Gwent records that Tegfedd suffered martyrdom at the hands of marauding Saxons.

In St Tydecho's Church in Mallwyd, a stained glass window shows him kneeling before a king. A third figure is stoning the saint to death. But no other information has survived to describe further what is going on. We still don't know who was wearing that crown.

Various legends, or genealogies, included a third sibling in their party. He apparently didn't stay, as none of the legends beyond their arrival talk about the third. Nor can any quite agree upon his name. St Cadfan, St Samson, St Dogfael and St Mael have all been identified as the brother who came to Mawddwy.

At least one of them (St Mael - not to be confused with the later Irish one) is strongly suspected have had a divine origin.

It is well established that Celtic saints include amid their number plenty of Gods and Goddesses from the old Pagan faith. They were simply called saints, with their preternatural powers explained as evidence of miraculous prayer. Each saw their stories stretched upon a Christian framework, some more successfully than others.

This practice certainly happened in North Wales, whenever Christian missionaries encountered a deity whom their potential flock wouldn't surrender, as I highlighted in the article below.

But did those saints include St Tydecho and St Tegfedd? The siblings held their mission during the 6th century, seemingly a little late for the need to transmute deities of the Druids into Christian form. The whole of North and mid Wales should have been decidedly Catholic by then.

Nevertheless, the evidence is there; and if I'm correct, then it tells us that the spread of Christianity was a much more prolonged process than generally imagined.

Three centuries after the faith arrived in Britain - two since it seriously took hold - these pair may constitute proof that there was still a need to turn Pagan deities into Welsh saints, if there was to be any hope of full Christian conversion.

The aforementioned slope is called Rhiw y March (Hill of the Horses). Near to their summit, there's a large stone basin carved into the mountain. It's called Ffynnon Dydecho (Fountain of Tydecho), as water collects there. The legend states that if you empty it, Tydecho's miracle will fill it again.

Viewed from this spot, above the highest waterfall of Llaethnant, the very rock-face is said to be his face in profile.

Llaethnant (milk stream) gained its name through one of his miracles. He startled a girl carrying milk over the ford, so that she dropped her bucket. To make up for it, Tydecho prayed until the water of the stream turned into milk. It still runs white now, though carries only water.

Buches Tydecho (St Tydecho's Fold) is said to mark the spot where she dropped the milk. It's an ancient cell, with great stones positioned to create a space inside, referenced here as a place to corral the milking cows. It's positioned upon Ffridd-y-Glascoed. Ffridd meaning the scrubland between high and low habitats. Glascoed translating as 'green wood'.

Rocks, water and green woods crop up a lot in Tydecho's story. Could the fact that he was stoned hint towards an older legend, whereby he was part of the stones?

Maybe it's worth noting that all of Tydecho's churches were built alongside west flowing rivers.

The Pagans can raise their eyebrows in the knowledge that Annwn - the Welsh Afterworld - was accessed by sailing west. Christians can ponder the fact that all rivers tend to run in that direction on this side of the Aran Mountains.

Yet the churches dedicated to Tydecho all share another feature too.  They were placed upon grounds already deemed sacred in the religions they supplanted. Gigantic yew trees grace the precincts of each building, while standing stones or other neolithic monuments are in their vicinities. Both suggest divine connections reaching back into antiquity, far older than the Druids.

Perhaps the Christians weren't the first to co-opt him into a new faith.

Everything about Him screams Celtic God of the Underworld to me, perhaps an aspect of Gwyn ap Nudd or Cernunnos; a divine guardian of the land.

Originally St Tydecho's feast day was at Easter. In the old calendar, that meant that it always fell between April 4th and May 8th, or Beltane as we Pagans call it. (More recently, it's switched to December 17th, for no reason that I could uncover.)

In Druidism, the God of the Underworld doubles as the instigator of the Wild Hunt at Beltane. In this aspect, He is all about fertility, battling all challengers for the right to impregnate the divine May Queen. It's during this festival that Celtic rulers ritually wed the Goddess of Sovereignty.

Moreover, there are blatant hints that St Tydecho acted this capacity, fulfilling Gwyn ap Nudd's traditional role as the Goddess's Champion and ruler of beasts. Not least because he earned the right to freedom for all humans and creatures within his parishes. (Slaves who reached his church doors could not be claimed by their owners, as long as the escapees stayed within Tydecho's ecclesiastical boundaries.)

The saint's most famous clash was with Maelgwn Gwynedd, ruler of Ynys Môn and Gwynedd, and eventually Pendragon of the Britons (High King). This tale can all too easily be read as a Sovereignty legend.

Particularly when we note that Tydecho's first church was built at Mallwyd, AND Maelgwn became chieftain of the Gwynedd Votadini, in the same year - 520 CE.

In the solitude of Mawddwy, St Tydecho slept on a blue rock. He spent his days in prayer, clad in nothing but a coat made of hair. He was so holy that the mountainside itself formed into the profile of his face.

Maelgwn Gwynedd sought to plague him, sending a stud of white horses to be pastured alongside the rock where Tydecho prayed. It was a cold, frosty season and the horses should have died. But Tydecho's prayers kept them fat and healthy. Moreover, they turned them yellow, so Maelgwn couldn't claim that they belonged to him.

Infuriated, Maelgwyn stole the saint's bulls. But St Tydecho was not thwarted in the ploughing of his field at Dol-y-Ceirw. He simply captured a cohort of wild stags and set them in harness. Then called upon God to bring a grey wolf to chase them. In their fright, the bucks pulled the plough through Tydecho's land.

Now livid, Maelgwn Gwynedd unleashed his pack of pure white hounds upon the deer and the wolf. He sat down on Tydecho's rock to watch the carnage, laughing in glee at the sport. But then disaster befell the ruler. When he tried to stand again, he found himself stuck fast to the blue stone.

Maelgwn was forced to beg the saint for help, pleading for forgiveness and promising to donate land upon which Tydecho might found a church. Only then was he released from the rock.

St Tydecho's Church in Mallwyd was built in 520 CE. It nestles inside a grove of massive ancient yew trees, which were sacred to the Druids. More churches followed throughout the area, in Llan-y-Mawddwy, Cemmaes and Garthbeibio.

This one couldn't be more Druidic if it tried!  If St Tydecho actually existed as a human man, then I'm willing to bet that he was a priest of the old ways rather than the Catholic Church.

Maelgwn Gwynedd sought to ritually wed the Goddess of Sovereignty (white horses), thus had to engage in the Wild Hunt (cattle raids and white dogs) in order to prove his worth. He was challenged by the Goddess's divine champion (Tydecho) in Dol-y-Ceirw (Meadow of the Stags, with the White Hart being the traditional Celtic signal for the Sovereignty Games to begin).

Tydecho was victorious, able to harness his power as Sovereignty's Champion (stags) long enough to furrow Her land (ploughing the field), thus it was His seed which fertilized Mother Earth. Tydecho's triumph was complete when He was able to command the bedrock itself, to entrap His challenger, forcing Maelgwn to concede ('donation' of land - that wasn't his to give).

In short, Maelgwn Gwynedd tried to invade Mawddwy in 520, and failed to take it.

But aren't we missing someone important?

All of which is quite strange, because Tegfedd was already married to Cedig, son of Ceredig - the son of Cunedda who conquered the region still called Ceredigion. Only now her father (and presumably Tydecho's too) is Tegid Foel, the giant husband of the Goddess Cerridwen, who gave his name to Llyn Tegid, aka Bala, a few miles up the mountain-side.

Tegfedd gave birth to two sons - Afon (river) and Sant (Saint). The latter became King of Ceredigion and raped St Non (absolutely not the Mother Goddess also known as Mon or Don), who gave birth to St David and promptly became a virgin again.

Her name features in the village and huge reservoir of Llandegfad in Gwent.  Her church is surrounded by extremely ancient yew trees, which were sacred to the Druids (and believed to have been so in antiquity before that). It was once called Merthyr Tegfedd, because she was murdered there by Saxon invaders.

Do stop me when you spot Tegfedd Goddess of Sovereignty, won't you?

Three things struck me as odd. If we're going to treat this as a straight Sovereignty story, then these things don't seem to fit well at all.

• Tegfedd's name means Fair/Beautiful Grave.  Sovereignty Goddesses tend to be called after a flower, or something white/innocent/pure, or a name recalling the Mother/Queen. Moreover, there aren't links with Cerridwyn, who was at least a muse, but more commonly considered as the Dark Mother.
• The extreme emphasis on the fact that the stone is blue.
• The land's bounty comes from Tydecho, as evidenced by the fact that he causes Lliathnant Waterfall to flow with milk.

Call it instinct rather than academia, but I think we're looking at Maelgwn Gwynedd's Bardic initiation hidden in symbolism here.

Perhaps a greater significance may be attached to the three enormous barrows lying close to Llanymawddwy. They are called Carneddau'r Gwragedd, or Cairns of the Women.

The story goes that three mothers set out on a long walk across the mountain, determined to reach the church at Mawddwy in time for the service. A blizzard had set in, but this wasn't about to stop them. Except it did. All three died of exposure up there, and the barrows were built over them to mark the spot.

Christians. Building enormous Bronze Age style barrows. On top of a mountain, not down in the churchyard. Anything sound odd here to you too?

Another version that I've found, dating from 1875, states that it was the Chapel of Ease at Garthbeibio that was the women's destination. But that was dedicated to St Tydecho too. The cairns were erected by local women from all neighboring districts, who gathered up the stones in their aprons.

Also discovered close by were the remains of a 'stone chest'. This was a construction of six stones, so placed to form a space inside large enough for a man to lie down. Therein were ashes, along with bits of bone and human hair.

The good reverend recording all of this, in the 19th century, said that it was used for Druid sacrifice. There was a cell nearby - of what construction, he didn't write - which was found to hold an ancient skeleton, sitting on a slab, where he'd apparently starved to death. It was thought he'd been destined as a sacrifice, but he'd been forgotten about, for whatever reason.

Please do note that these are Victorian vicars and their congregations trying to explain things that occurred over a millennia before. Though the Welsh do have long memories, they're not all trained bards.

While no-one doubts that there was human sacrifice in the depths of British antiquity, the best that we can say here is that it's interesting to find such things recalled for this particular spot.

Incidentally, Laurence Main is the author of another book, which hours ago was the first that I added to this article. That too was about Camlan, but without the references to Tegfedd. That is a history and a walking guide. This is a psychic journey through a sacred landscape.

The beautiful correlation is not lost on me, even if the evidence isn't quite what's expected of a historian trying to join up the dots. It works on a Pagan level, and maybe that's all that matters.

Main's psychic quest was initiated by an English colleague channeling messages from Maelgwn Gwynedd. In this vision, Maelgwn was a warrior of the Goddess, and the champion of a strong, independent Celtic nation, free from the destructive influence of Rome. He directed the author to spend the night camped at Gwely Tydecho during Beltane, which he did.

Next morning, that caused him to be sitting in St Tydecho's Church in Mallwyd for an hour, waiting for a life. That's where he read the story that I've already recounted to you.

It all works perfectly to illustrate the point that I had been about to make.

The link between Tegfedd and the neolithic graves suggests a deeper wedding than that of ruler and land. The thing about graves is it puts somebody inside the Earth itself, within the context of a religion that believed in reincarnation. An initiate isn't wedded to Sovereignty here. They're nestled inside Her, like a child in the womb, ready to be reborn.

It pointed more towards Inner Sovereignty than Outer Rites.

Laurence Main is an initiated Druid. During his psychic venturing, Tegfedd was revealed as a Pagan priestess. She tended the wounded at Camlan. When a messenger found her, she returned to her brother's church in Mallwyd, in order to see if she may heal her legendary cousin's wounds.

It was Tegfedd who was there for Arthur, as he died in St Tydecho's Church. It was she who claimed custody of his body and whose spiritual legacy she held. She took him on a barge across Llyn Mawddwy.

In short, Main's quest led him to the conclusion that hidden behind the fading face of an obscure sixth century saint was the prototype for Morgan Le Fey.  Just as I'd been about to say. Only he framed her as a real human being, while I still see the Dark Muse of Bardic Awen, or an aspect of the Goddess of Inner Sovereignty.

One final point from Main on Tegfedd. In his research, he came across two legends regarding her demise. The first is the one that I discovered - the saintly woman who was killed in Gwent, when the Saxons broke over its borders. The second is that she (not Tydecho) was the one stoned to death.

Only Main searched for more information on the inner highways of Celtic questing. He learned through a medium not open to academic inquiry that it was Welsh villagers in Llandegfedd who stoned her to death. They'd discovered that she was a Pagan, and pregnant outside wedlock too.

Your choices regarding Tegfedd are clear:

• Reject all that's been suggested and reinstate her as society would have it. Safely positioned as a Catholic Celtic saint, practically forgotten.
• Accept my educated guesses, rooted as far as possible in academia, that She was a Druidic Muse of Inner Sovereignty.  A Dark Goddess of the Cauldron, inspiring psychic journeys of a Shamanic nature.
• Accept a Druid's visions concerning her, revealed during a psychic journey of a Shamanic nature.

Of course, I'm not a Druid, I'm a Wiccan. They can all be true at the same time without any apparent contradiction!

Those who sit upon the blue stone Chair can never really get back up again. Upon some level they will, like Maelgwn, be stuck fast to it forever, because what has been seen cannot be unseen. Their inner eyes are opened to the essential life-force laid bare in the Dark Lady's cauldron, and the Mysteries now encircling.

Tegfedd's Gwion has become Tydecho's Taliesin; a bard whose inspiration is what the Gaelic Scots call Òran Mór - the Great Song, the melody of the world.

They have accessed a tremendous oneness, that lies at the core of all living things. They are both the Hunter and the Hunted; the peace that is found, heart to heart, when only truths may be spoken now. A bard awakened in this way may never compose songs of falsehood again, even if their lives depended upon it. They have accessed the point of Y Gwir yn erbyn y Byd (the truth against the world), and there's no going back from that.

This then was the moment of Bardic initiation. Accepting the awen, earned upon surrendering all that bound them to self and society, and allowing oneself to enter a dream state unfettered by normal convention.

In Celtic spirituality, the King Stag frequently represents majesty in nature. (It's no accident that it was the subject of the painting The Monarch of the Glen.) 

It turns up in this capacity in a parable about the Goddess's Sovereignty Games. The King Stag fights the Young Stag, which takes its place as leader. In its turn, the Young Stag will grow into its prime, then past it, giving way to the next Young Stag able to defeat it. The King is dead, Goddess save the King!

But more to the point, the Horned God is popularly - though not exclusively - depicted with antlers upon His own head. The Wild Hunter IS the King Stag, and Tydecho is here fulfilling that role. Providing in His primal example - hair coat, existing outdoors - a stripping away of civilization and nurtured propriety, which allowed its Champion to work with natural forces.

The Hunter and the Hunted, both at the same time. The ruler and the ruled simultaneously.

And just to hammer home the imagery, Tydecho and his harnessed stags are chased by a grey wolf, the companion of Cernunnos.  All of which is answered by Maelgwn Gwynedd releasing his white dogs to hunt the wolf, Tydecho and the stags, adding to the cycle of Hunter and Hunted.

Why? In truth, I'm unsure, though I do have some guesses.

White is the color of Sovereignty, but also the color of the Cwm Annwn - the dogs of the Underworld - which over Maelgwn could be demonstrating his mastery.  There might also be significance in his own name:  Mael (warrior) gwn (hounds) Gwynedd (white). He understands the scene enough to insert himself into it?

The most important aspect being that this is the moment when Maelgwn sits upon the blue stone.

We hear no more about the wild nature scenes playing out upon the Rhiw y March (hill of the horses); that entire Sovereignty scene has vanished. Maelgwn is no longer contemplating his rule. Tydecho's Wild Hunt demonstration is over. All that matters is the blue stone and Maelgwn unable to put it aside.

Maelgwn duly does make an oath now, though it's framed in the Christian telling as promises of atonement for being naughty.

He commits to giving land and funding for Tydecho's Church, though that's suspect, given that Mawddwy wasn't in Gwynedd in the 6th century and therefore not Maelgwn's territory to donate. It may be an element added later to provide more weight to his contrition, or to add a date of 520 CE to the telling.

The Gwynedd ruler furthermore swears to uphold 'the privilege of sanctuary for a hundred ages so that neither man nor beast could be taken from his land; no battles, or burning, or killing to be admitted there.' 

In other words, a sacred place where everything runs wild and free. No social constraints. Peace.

Could this be why the legends also tell us that Maelgwn didn't fight at Camlan? He arrived with an army, which Arthur expected to help him win the day. But instead Maelgwn remained stationed in Brithdir, just across the valley, possibly condemning Arthur by inaction.

Finally Tydecho allows Maelgwn to rise from the blue stone Gorsedd. Every bard, however enlightened, has to enter the world again. Unmentioned, but a logical progression, is Tydecho's final role in the shamanic journey.

The gatekeeper - the House of Twilight - has two dwellings. Himself, and the place at the foot of the mountain. This is the final location for an initiate, a resting place for quiet contemplation, or a halfway house between the Otherworldly realm and reality.

That this is marked by a standing stone, within a grove of ancient yew trees, enclosed by the churchyard walls of St Tydecho's Church, shows just how long this has been a sacred site. Three religious eras encased around each other, like layers in the same, old story.

Representing the focal point for a Christian tale, embedded with Druidic symbolism, incorporating ancient monuments which were built to serve an older religion yet.

As for Tydecho and Tegfedd, they might be Christian saints terribly slandered by fertile imagination. But if not, then might they be more than a God and Goddess of the Druids, reconstructed through history and inspired visions? 

Could they even represent some distant memory of ancestral deities? Filtered through two religions from another, that we couldn't even begin to reconstruct. Perhaps one where the Wild Hunt held real and present danger, and the fair graves were filled, but the promised reward was worth lugging a heavy blue stone, all the way from Caer Angli, to a spot halfway up a mountain in Mawddwy.