Y Ddraig Goch: The Story of the Welsh Red Dragon Pt 2

In the aftermath, each Celtic tribe returned to their territories, every one with its own monarchy, laws, norms and culture. While the ancient Britons might have shared a language and many other aspects, they were not one people.

Yet the notion of the red dragon lingered. The moment when they had brilliantly and temporarily been one. An idea buried deep beneath the ground of Dinas Emrys; or, to put it another way, recalled only by the druidic bards and the history keepers.

It was a political hot potato, this thought of being one nation under a single High King or Queen. No leader wanted it, unless they were to be the one wearing the crown. It was no more welcome to the people than one modern day world leader attempting to conquer and unite all of Europe. The national self-identity of, say, the Czech, the Polish and the Dutch is no less keen than it was for the Cornovii, the Iceni, the Silures and the Brigantes.

Separate Celtic countries within the confines of the British Isles, living their lives as the centuries went on. Paying no more heed to the red dragon than as a strange story from the dim, distant past.

And like any nation, there would occasionally arise warlords and leaders who'd rather like to expand their borders. Clashes sometimes turned into full-scale wars, and then no-one could have even believed that they once marched together under Y Ddraig Goch, let alone that it could ever stir again.

But in the pit beneath Dinas Emrys the beasts were stirring. This time the ferocity of their battles would shake the British Isles to the core. The roar of the dragons is still sounding today. The red dragon is shackled, but not yet dead. It will rise again.

In addition, there was renewed interest - and threats - from the Irish Gaels, Scots and Germanic raiders, all of whom saw rich, undefended booty there for the taking.

Later legend says that Vortigern acted alone, but the near contemporary histories talk about a 'council' supporting him all the way.  It would seem that a consortium of high-ranking Romano-Celts panicked and made a decision with major consequences; not least the fact that you're reading this in English.

Vortigern and his council invited two Saxon mercenaries to bring three shiploads of warriors into Britain. They would fight on behalf of the Romano-Celts against the British and all comers. They would be given land to facilitate their needs.

Hengist and Horsa established their bases, and quickly realized the truth of the situation. The Romano-Celts were weak.  The British Celts were divided. In short, a united front of Germanic tribes from Jutland, Saxony and Angeln (Schleswig-Holstein today) could probably take it all.

Messages flew back across the North Sea and more ships sailed over the horizon in response. The fighting was fierce (Horsa was killed helping the Jutes take modern day Kent from the Cantii), but with startling speed much of the south of Britain became Angle-land - England.

Thousands of Celtic refugees fled over the Channel into Lesser Britain (Britanny); others stayed and integrated with their Anglo-Saxon overlords.

As for the Romano-Celts, their leaders were all invited to a massive conference in London. It was supposed to be free of all weapons, but the Saxons each had a knife concealed about their person. At a signal, halfway through the welcoming feast, all of the Germanic warriors killed the Romano-Celt beside them. Only Vortigern survived, kept alive for his ransom and his standing as a mouthpiece in future campaigns to take the rest of the Isles.

The white dragon was invited into Britain; and the Celts didn't realize the danger until it was way too late. Nor did the Romans return to save the Romano-Celts.

But half lost in the mists of Celtic lore was an answer to it all.  The ravages of the white dragon could be held back, if the red dragon rose to meet it.

Vortigern was trying to build a great tower on a mountain - often located outright as Dinas Emrys - but the tower kept falling down. He consulted his priests, who blessed the ground to no avail, so he turned to his seers instead. Vortigern was advised that only the sacrifice of a child without a human father could save his tower. Its blood in the foundations would solve everything.

Across the British Isles, the search was on for such a person.  In Caerfyrddin (Carmarthen), Vortigern's agents found Merlin.

The boy was the son of a defiled nun, who'd been visited by a demon in the night. The devil wanted Merlin for his anti-Christ on Earth, but his mother Non prayed night and day for it not to be so. It was enough for Vortigern, who ordered the boy brought to the site of his tower.

Merlin knelt to his sacrifice, but, as the knife plunged down, he rolled away and avoided it. "Stop!" He yelled, "Can't you hear that?"  Nobody could. It was his half-demonic blood which gave Merlin such preternatural senses. "A great clashing beneath our feet!"

All listened, but could not hear. Merlin persuaded Vortigern to let him investigate, which the Romano-Celtic leader duly did.  The boy crawled down into the pit (or fell into a trance), and the cause of the tower's continued destruction was revealed.

Deep underground, a red dragon was ferociously battling a foreign white dragon. The winner would determine the Matter of Britain. There was also the little matter of a prophecy made, which would redefine Y Ddraig Goch forever.

It shouldn't take much to read between the lines, particularly with the knowledge that both Caer Myrddin (Merlin) and Vortigern's Tower have been used poetically as synonyms for Britain.

Y Ddraig Goch - the red dragon - as we recall from the legend of Lludd and Llefelys, represented the British working together.  As successive generations of Britons have heard the legend, applying it to their own place in history, it's become so much more than that.

It's about all that it means to be ethnically British.  Celtic culture, language, norms, mores and philosophy. A cultural genocide of the Celts (which has been attempted so many times during the intervening 1700 years) cannot succeed while the red dragon still twitches under Dinas Emrys.

I am writing this article in English.  The white dragon is dominant. But seventeen centuries on, I still know how to pronounce Myrddin, Y Ddraig Goch and Dinas Emrys.  The red dragon survives.  Ond dwi'r siarad Cymraeg.  (And I speak Welsh.)  Follow the red dragon. The red dragon will rise again.

This is the Matter of Britain in a nutshell, teeming with Celtic spirituality and wrapped up in a bestial icon. That one day the Celts will reign triumphant over the English, with their culture intact.

Merlin promised us.

Y Ddraig Goch represents all that it is to be Welsh.  Seen from another Angle (pun intended), it holds fast all that is culturally intact from the ancient British. 

Despite centuries of trying, the British Isles still aren't entirely English. We speak the language and we have assimilated a lot of the customs, but the Celtic bedrock remains underneath. Some of the traditions, which are seen as so quintessentially English, are actually British. It's a patchwork merging of cultures, which often resembles nothing more than a compromise.

But that's still not entirely English.  The cultural genocide of the Celts never quite succeeded, even in England, where the red dragon is seen far less.

That is the legacy of Y Ddraig Goch today. The hidden currents beneath its Welsh ubiquity. Less ancient battles fought over and over again, than a line which was drawn in the proverbial sand.

Does anyone fully believe that the English language, culture and people (only 10% of those in England are genetically descended from the Anglo-Saxon invaders) will be pushed back to Germany?  Probably not, despite the prophecy.

But as long as the red dragon is living, the harp of my country survives. Which, from a certain viewpoint, means that Britain was never conquered at all.