Gwyn ap Nudd
Ancient British God & Hero
Throughout the world of man, dreams and stories have awakened our personal values and opened the energies of the Universe to enter into our lives and imaginations. We are all a product of a thought that is conveyed in timeless imagery. We can all dream and imagine a whole empire ourselves. As a result, man’s world is not just a product of stories that have patterned our culture but the played-out drama of visions simulated many times in some very basic themes. To read into them is to see within them the structure of our own psyche. The knowledge of that and what we do with it is what can make us effective and therefore self powerful.
Gwyn, son of Nudd (also known as Noden or Nuada) is a descendent of the Tuatha de Danaans, ’From whom all Irishmen of learning are sprung’. They were a folk of the god whose mother is Dana and it was the Danaans who came from the sky, or heaven, as some have interpreted their origins. Whichever, they had ruled four great cities, Falias, Gorias, Finias and Murias, and from each city they had brought a single magical treasure.
From Falias they had brought the Stone of Destiny (Lia Fail or the Great Fal) and it was upon this that the Kings of Ireland came to be crowned and later still the Kings of England, some believing that it was the Stone of Destiny that became the Stone of Scone! And possibly this is so because according to both of these stone’s legends, only the rightful claimant can sit upon it, issuing from the stone itself a great roar of acknowledgement!
And then from Gorias came the invincible Sword of Nuada. But this was no ordinary sword because when it was drawn from its scabbard there was no one who could flee and escape its fine edge!
There was no one who could be victorious against the Spear of Lugh from Finias either, but finally it was from Murias that the Cauldron of Dagda was brought from. This was indeed a cauldron of plenty as it had a cornucopia capacity of feeding a whole host of others whilst still remaining full to its rim.
All other arrivals to Ireland had come by ship but the Tuatha de Danaans came through the air in dark clouds and alighted on a mountain called Conmaicne Rein. It was said that for three days ‘they cast a darkness over the face of the sun.’
The Danaans were said to be the most handsome and delightful in company. They were called the Children of Light or Lords of Light because of their fair form and apparel and they were skilled in equipment and music. They were also gifted in mind and temperament and proficient in every art, but most famously they were considered the bravest of warriors. In fact such was their strong similarity to the Watchers, an ingenious race of people who had studied the stars and in them the destiny of all men, that they were considered their offspring and true magicians in their own right. They certainly became associated with supernatural abilities and in turn became worshiped as gods!
On their arrival in Ireland the Danaans were challenged by the Firbolgs in Connaught and it was Nuada of the Silver Hand who responded by leading the Danaans against them. This was the First Battle of Mag Tuired and during it Nuada lost an arm but not the battle. It was the Firbolg King who was finally slain and it was his people who had to leave Connaught while the rest of Ireland became known as Danaan. Despite all this though, Nuada had no choice but to surrender his leadership to another man. A long outstanding Irish rule decreed that only a perfect man could be a King of Ireland. As a result the Kingship was handed to Bres, Nauda’s adopted son, but not quite forever! In a tale shortly to follow you will learn how Nuada regained his kingship ...... with a little help of some magic of course!
The Second Battle of Mag Tuired concentrated on the Fomorians. This was a surprise to everyone as earlier there had been a more friendly alliance resulting in the marriage of Ethniu (daughter of the Fomorian king), with Cian (son of Dian Cecht and a de Danaan) - a sacred union from which Lugh was issued! Whatever, this battle that the Danaans had prepared seven years for ended with Lugh cutting the head off the King of the Fomorians, the result of which the rest of his people were given no choice but to move out of Ireland.
The Danaan's were invincible until the ‘Coming of the Milesians’. The great Celtic race swept across Central Europe, including Germany and Spain, finally putting an end to the supreme reign of the Danaan. Their leader was called Miled and his Egyptian wife, Scota, was a Pharoh’s daughter whom Scotland became named after. He was to die in Spain, however, but his family still set out for the Isle of Destiny and despite a storm raised by the Great Wizard de Danaan, they eventually made land on the 1 May. Most of them anyway but not at some cost to Miled’s family! Five of his sons had died and Queen Scota soon followed after a battle with the Danaan’s, Queen Eire.
It was at the final Battle of Taillte, that three Danaan Kings and three Queens were slain and many others died beside them. According to the ancient Book of Leinster, the rest of Ireland was divided between the lasting two races. Amergin, a Milesian poet, was asked to pass judgement and he did so with no small biasness. As a result, his own people got the above terrain and that which was subterranean, became the Danaans.
One of Gwyn’s ancestors was a great immortal called Manannaan mac Lir and at Brugh of the Boyne he assembled the Danaan who agreed they would distribute themselves through their Spirit land. It was then that the Tuatha de Danaan went into the hills (or Sidhe, pronounced ‘shee’ as the Irish call them). These were the ‘sidbrugaib’ (the Faer regions) where the ‘sida’ (the Faer folk) are still thought to reside.
The Tale of Nauda - Father of Gwyn
As everything in this world was thought to symbolise that of the Otherworld, it was once the way for a man to be the symbol of his province. For the Irish, such a man was called King and to keep him safe his champions would fight his battles for him.
Nauda (also known as Noden or Nudd) was a King of Ireland. Even more than this, he was to become revered as a solar god who would father Gwyn and Edern. However, before that day, there was one battle to be fought that Nauda would do more than attend. Do much more because whilst his men were trying to keep his sword from being bloodied, their defences eventually failed themselves. Gradually each flank suffered its own losses until Nauda felt the hard smashing of enemy weaponry against his shield.
The sun was falling from the sky and as it fell around Nauda, a mist began to rise that confused the men of Danaan. They each grew worried as one after the other saw their vision of Nuada was growing dimmer. Within moments they were calling, ‘Where is he? Where can he be?’’. And eventually their murmurs grew in one cry, ‘The King! The King!’ because as misty as it was, it was clear he may have been harmed - may even be dead and on the end of one of their own blazoned swords!
And this was how it was until the mist finally arose. No one could see each other! And then they realised that in their movements of pushing forward through the fields they had come to a lakeside where thankfully in its midst was Nauda himself ......... slumped over his thoroughbred ..... alive and intact, accept for the loss of one arm!
Each hero fell to his knee to see his lord alive but each knew that Nauda would now belittle their strength. He was no longer a perfect King so could no longer symbolise their Province. His had a physical defect that automatically removed him from leadership but that also meant another had to take his place. A special moot was therefore called and it was decided that Bres of the Fomore, Nuada’s adopted son, would be his successor. Decisive action was speedily effected but it was to be followed by no less than instant regret for almost immediately afterwards the people discovered what a bad choice they had made!
Bres, because of a clan connection, had been welcomed by the Tuatha De Danaan yet he was fundamentally Fomore and showed it in that all his ways were theirs. Whenever the Tuatha ate with him “their knives were not greased” and “their breath did not smell of ale” - significant signs that Bres was an ungenerous host and a mean one at that! In addition, he even refused to pay the poets and the musicians who played for him. People who had always been held in the highest of esteem were treated with disgrace but to cheat a bard was the worst disrespect of all!
Now the people of the Tuatha began to say, ‘What did we do to deserve him?’. And only now had they a memory of their good king, Nauda, whose lost arm seemed such a small thing compared to dignity their whole province was losing. True, they even began to think of some ways or means of getting Nauda back .... but to what degree? Well, enough to gather themselves together and march in a mob to Bres’s home!
So Bres was driven out of the Tuatha De Danaan and whilst he was returning to the Fomore, Nauda returned to the lake where his men had found him. With him he had taken the great healer, Diancecht, who called out to the Moon whilst she was at her fullest. Diancecht, beloved witch, told Nuada to undress and go to his Mistress. This he unquestionably obeyed and entering the lake slowly, waded into its midst until laps of cool water gently kissed the nape of his neck. His Mistress now looked upon him and Nauda who stood within her mirror, was traced by her hand until the whole lake reflected her magic. Now the Goddess filled up in watching him and in desiring his energy within her, longed to give him her own.
And so, like a pregnant woman, the Moon broke waters and poured them over Nauda as he called to her. He willed her to give him an arm that would fight his enemies like no other and she heard him and said she would give him much more. She would give him perfection! First though, Nauda had to give her what she most desired and Nauda agreed readily. It was then the lake became more luminous than ever. It shone and shimmered like a million silver fish were swimming within it and then the Moon pulled at the sun within Nauda and took it into her womb. At that point the severed limb began to rapidly heal. He had am ‘arm fit for no other’ as the weight on his right side signified and the Goddess had a seed growing within her which she blessed as her son and lover.
With no more time wasted Nuada arose from the lake. Rivulets of water cascaded all over him, down from his body and noiselessly onto the Moon’s face. Such is magic! Now it could be seen what he had felt and as it hung from his right shoulder Nauda beheld a perfect silver limb. The Goddess had given him perfection! He had the shape of an arm in the presence of pure light and with it he would be able to fight like no other had before or would ever do so again!
Collen became a hermit and for a while based himself on Glastonbury Tor. He had heard the legends of Gwyn ap Nudd but was intolerant of pagan ways and cared little that the Tor was Gwyn's abode. He was heard to mutter and some warned him to be respectful. It wasn't good to anger the Old Ones and Gwyn was the son of Nodon, an ancient British God.
'What care I what a pagan thinks. There is no one I fear but my God!'
As others came to hear what the hermit had to say it became the knowledge of Gwyn, himself. He sent two messengers to Collen who asked that he follow them to their great Lord. The hermit refused. He had no reason to go with them and he would never pay tribute to a pagan. Instead he locked his door and the messengers went away.
On the second night the messengers returned to say that Gwyn still wanted to meet him. Collen felt less arrogant and more fearful, but he refused to step beyond his door and the messengers again left without him.
That night Collen slept badly. He had dreamt he had made Gwyn so angry that he had come to the hermitage himself and carried him away. He was still afraid when he awoke and the thought that his dream might come true remained with him the entire day. He was worried and he was fretful but then he had a brilliant idea!
That night on the third day, Collen was again visited by the two messengers. This time they were surprised to see the hermit was agreeable in going with them. They did not know he had hidden in his breast pocket a small phial of holy water and that it was his believing this would protect him from Gwyn that enabled him to meet him.
A strange mist gathered but Collen was happy to follow where he may be lead. The mist enveloped the Tor, but Collen had a strong impression they were climbing it. They finally entered an opening where within they walked into the midst of a realm of unnatural beauty. It was the fairest castle he had ever seen. Tiled and piled high with crystals and gems, there were pillars of clear quartz stretching high into infinity. There were vines of red and white flowers, streams of red and white wine and all the best appointed hosts and the most noble of women were wearing the livery of Annwn, red and white, their eyes deep blue.
Gwyn sat on a gold throne and watch Collen approaching. As the Great God of the Dead and the beloved King of the Faer Folk, he wore a gold crown and a velvet suit of red and white. He was the most handsome of all and his deep blue eyes never blinked as he continued to watch the hermit approaching. As Collen finally neared him, Gwyn smiled and beckoned him to come closer.
'You who study to be wise are most sincerely welcome!' Gwyn stood up to welcome his guest, but the hermit remained stiff and silent.
'Well, you see before you how things are! Reality here is my conscious conception. I have the finest men and women and the finest food and wine to eat and drink. Ask anything you want of me as everything is given.
Collen looked on and around him but was afraid of what he saw. 'I will not eat leaves of trees or drink from any vessel'.
Gwyn was startled, 'Why?' It was the way of the Faer to be sincere and this guest was being insulting.
'Although the food and the manner of dress is very fine, red is the colour of fire and white is the colour of frost and the cold.' And then he took out the tiny phial of holy water and scattered it all around. Slowly Gwyn and the Faer began to disappear, evaporating into the mists of time. It became soon apparent that the hermit was alone on the Tor and that it was the middle of the night. A full moon shone down upon him and he shivered as he ran back to his hermitage, locking himself within in it in for at least a week or two!
(As in the tradition of storytelling a story, especially one that feels unfinished, can be added to in the telling of it. As I have told this story to adults and families on several occasions over the years I generally end it like this:)
The years passed and Collen became a little older and a little wiser. One day as he lay dying on his bed he saw from his window that it was a full moon and at midnight he heard the braying of hounds. The Cwm Annwn, Gwyn's hounds - his companions from the Underworld.
'It’s him! Collen thought. 'He is coming for me!' And at that moment Gwyn appeared and took up his soul unto his own.
'Now, my friend, you will come with me!' And he smiled as he led Collen to his afterlife. And Collen went willingly with Gwyn, knowing that where he would be taken was beautiful and he would want for nothing. And as Collen in the last moment remembered he was still carrying his phial, he was glad that it was empty!
The Tale of Edern - Brother of Gwyn
King Arthur had come to have a second wife called Gwenhwyfar and she was cared for by many. One day her husband asked her what she would do if he was forever lost from her but Gwenhwyfar, fearing such questions, gave him indirect answers instead. However, this did nothing to appease Arthur but made him more persistent. He stood his ground and carefully rephrased his question, “If I was to die, who would you choose to protect you?”
Now of all of Arthur’s companions who rode and fought with him there was one called Edern ap Nudd, brother of Gwyn. He was strong as he was able and Gwenhwyfar was very fond of him. She therefore, after a long silence, chose Edern as her protector and Arthur from that day onwards was consumed with jealousy.
The time came for the men of Arthur to set off on another adventure and Gwynhwyfar told them she would reward whoever brought back to her the magic knife belonging to the two most fearsome giants of the Malvern Forest.
When eventually Arthur and his men reached the said forest, Kai, who was Arthur’s foster brother, was sent to spy out the land. Kai hoped most to find the knife but he found a giants home instead. It was surrounded by stakes forming a palisade and each was crowned with a severed head still oozing blood!
Kai was reluctant to go any further and hid himself from sight. In the meantime, Arthur was developing an idea of how to endanger Edern’s life for in waiting for Kai’s return it struck him he could send Edern to discover what may have happened. Edern, for his own part, completely trusted Arthur and he went boldly on his mission until on entering the fortress he heard a great noise coming from the hall. This made him curious enough to look a little closer whereupon he saw two giants roasting a boar that filled the evening air with a very satisfying smell. However, satisfying as it was, Edern wasn’t ready to eat until he had earned his own meal. An appetiser was necessary first so a battle was initiated and eventually when the giants were dead, Edern sat down by the fire and rested.
From outside, Arthur had heard this great battle raging in the hall but had stopped his companions from going to Edern’s assistance. Only when the noise had finally ebbed and then stopped was he curious to find out what had really happened. And only then did he make his own cautious way into the fortress to be amazed by the sight of the son of Nudd - still there and very much alive. Incredibly this made Arthur very happy despite his former feelings towards Gwyn’s brother, so they all ate of the boar together and rested in peace for the next day. All of them accept Kai who had wanted the knife for himself. Now it was he who was jealous of Edern!
In the night Edern felt thirsty and Kai, aware of a nearby poisonous well, offered him water from it which Edern drank in plenty. Immediately he had done so his eyes closed shut but this man being an immortal, fell into a deep sleep instead of dying in it.
When morning came Arthur went to Edern and saw the deathly pallor all over his body. He called his men who each believed that Edern was truly dead. Even Kai was shocked to see how white he had become and was instantly regretful of what he had done.
But the time was passing and Arthur had to move on. Finally he and his men took their leave of Edern and put the fortress behind them. Still, not much time had passed when two others appeared and went to the side of Edern. These were the sons of King of Iwerddon and being skilled in the arts of medicine, they knew that Edern was only asleep. They also knew how to help revive him and so with the most powerful Malvern’s herbs, they fed Edern until he was quite well again.
Upon Edern’s recovery he immediately returned to Arthur where everyone received him with much merriment and deepest relief - all accept Kai who knew Arthur would have no choice but to condemn him to death. In fact it was a fate he chose for himself and nobly prostrated himself before his king to beg of it but Arthur turned to Edern and asked him “What think you now, Edern ?”
And Edern stood up with the magic knife knowing he had the right to immediately kill Kai with it but instead he inspirited it into Kai’s hands who held it in disbelief. Now everyone who was watching was gripped by the deepest of emotions. How had Kai deserved this, a thought he shared himself. It was, therefore, with the greatest of dignity Kai rose and walked up to Gwenhwyfar who on receiving the knife kissed it and placed it on her lap.
The Tale of King Arthur’s Cave in The Vale of Neath
After defeating the Saxons at the Battle of Camlann in 539AD, Arthur was in need of rest. As evening fell he came to a sheltered opening in a forest near Craig y Ddinas (The Rock of the Fortress) and whilst some knights wandered in search of supper, the rest fell asleep around their leader.
In the meantime, a witch from a nearby village saw that the sky had become enveloped in a cloudy mist. This was a woman who could read the clouds as she could the runes and on seeing an omen that worried her, she tried to raise the neighbours of her village. However, strangely enough, they had all fallen asleep too!
The witch herself, determined to at least help in any way she could, ran into the forest and as the mist rose with each of her breaths she began to see a full moon lighting her way. Eventually she came to where it shone down the most and there she found her good King Arthur asleep with all of his retinue. There they lay in front of a cave and she was transfixed unable to move, not even an eyelid. A spell had beheld her own powers and not until the sun awoke her at dawn did she see that the King and his men had disappeared ..... imprisoned, she believed, in the cave that was no longer there!
After the passing of some hundreds years the village became a town and the forest disappeared for the need of its timber. One day a farmer, on his way to London, was passing through Craig y Ddinas and while his cattle refreshed themselves at a stream, he cut himself a hazel branch to support him on his great walk. Some weeks later he was standing on London Bridge admiring the great river and its city. His cattle had been sold at the highest price and his well used staff was still as good as new. However, what pleased him the most was to now believe his faery wood must have been truly blessed by a tree faery - how else could he have known such good fortune when others had known only hardship? It made him think. Eventually he wondered about it so much that he came to making a promise to himself which consisted of him returning the wood back to its tree as soon as it was possible. At this point a feeling of peace so overwhelmed him that he hardly noticed a strange man coming up to him and he certainly never saw where he came from. Whatever, it was the hazel branch he was interested in and he immediately asked the farmer where it had come from.
This strange man, all of four feet, shared with the farmer a dream he had had of the hazel tree itself. The farmer listened attentively but when he came to looking into his story teller’s eyes it suddenly dawned on that this was the tree faery, himself.
And the story itself was quite a good one. It was all about a great treasure to be found at the bottom the hazel tree in question. And then, with only a blink of his eyes, the farmer was in Wales again and standing beside the faery’s hazel tree with the smaller man standing beside him.
“Come with me!” the faery now beckoned him and the farmer obliged quite cheerfully. This was indeed a great adventure and it could lead anywhere! After all, he had no reason to doubt the faery’s sincerity or to believe he could be in any danger but as he followed he who led him, the farmer had no idea of what might yet follow!
From in between the undergrowth and under a large stone, a long twisting stairway wound down from the tree and into the ground. Down it went and into Mother Earth and when they went down they went into their Earth Mother, Herself. Down and along hidden corridors, until the faery stopped at a large room that had the size and appearance of a cave.
“But now where’s the treasure?” the farmer thought.
“Over here!” the faery answered, reading his thoughts, and he pointed his power finger into the shadows. Suddenly the farmer could see not only piles of silver and gold but that they were stacked and scattered around the sleeping bodies of armoured men. Gold and silver that he could take as much of as he wanted but never both at the same time!
“This is Arthur and his great knights who guard him.” The faery told the farmer who’s amazement so overcame him that he almost knocked against a small hanging bell. “And that, ...” the faery continued “is something else you must never do because if it rings the knights will awaken and seize you. Only on once occasion might you say “Go back to sleep!” but after that you will be on your own!”
After his warning the faery disappeared and the farmer, who suddenly felt scared and alone, ran out of the hole into the fresh air. Still, the thought of the treasure had a magnetic pull about it and soon he made another visit followed by another! Each time he took more gold or silver and each time he grew more careless and then one day he lost his balance altogether and fell against the bell. Immediately a knight awoke but the farmer told him to sleep and surprisingly it worked.
This should have been a lesson to have learned from, but the farmer became even less careless and more reckless. He eventually not only fell against the bell again but in doing so grabbed hold of its chain and broke it completely! Down both he and the bell went and as a consequence they crashed onto the stone floor. Now, not only did one knight awake but all of them. This was how the faery said it would be so the farmer was seized and beaten black and blue until he was thrown from the cave that still contained the sleeping King Arthur. No more would he be able to visit it - he couldn’t even find the entrance - and all the treasure he had taken up until then, disappeared as if he had never owned it. In fact he could have thought the whole thing was but a dream but the faery had left him the small broken bell just as a reminder of that which he had owned but had lost!
It was with Peredur and Arthur’s men that Gwyn and Edern accosted the nine witches of Kaer. After suffering some mortality amongst them they eventually killed all but one who was called Gorddu. She was the daughter of Gorwenn who was considered the worst of her kind, and to escape Arthur’s men she hid in a cave at Penn Nant Govut.
Arthur decide to ride North in search of the cave and Gwyn who rode with him looked up to the moon and said to his brother, ‘I don’t like what I’m seeing. There is a chance that this hag will do her worst and that we will be riding home without the King!’
Gwythyr, son of Greidyawl, heard him and before they reached the cave they spoke with Arthur and forbade him to seek out the hag by himself.
‘Kachmwri and Hygwydd will go!’ Gwyn told Arthur and Arthur agreed in observing his men’s right to protect him. And so Hygwydd entered the cave with his brother and did not see Gorddu hiding in the shadows. When they were close enough she immediately sprung out and caught Hygwydd by the hair and threw him to the ground. Kachmwri rushed to his brother’s rescue and in his efforts to separate them he grabbed hold of Gorddu’s hair but the she turned on him and would not leave either of them alone until she had stripped them of their armour and weapons and drove them hysterically out of the cave!
In such a beleaguered state, Arthur received his men but was very angry. He insisted on going into the cave to deal with the hag himself but still Gwyn and Gwythyr, fearing the worst, withheld the king and said, ‘We cannot enjoy seeing you wrestle with her - send Hir Amren and Hir Eiddyl into the cave.’ And Arthur once again complied but both new envoys emerged more battered about their person than the other two. In fact all four had procured such injuries of mind and body that each had to be carried on Arthur’s mare, Llameri. But this was the final insult to Arthur and Gwyn read the anger in his face and saw the sun within it. He felt assured now that Arthur would be alright and so he did not resist the insistence that now came that he would enter the cave whether they liked it or not. Instead he stood aside and watched him stride in.
Immediately, on seeing Gorddu, Arthur took up his knife, Karnwennan, and struck her down the centre with it. Then Gwyn and the other men entered the cave and altogether made two vats of her blood which they gave to Kaw of Prydyn who had foreseen a day when there would be occasion to use it!
Creiddylad was loved by both Gwyn ap Nudd and Gwythyr son of Greidyawl. However, Gwythyr managed to secure her love whilst Gwyn had been waiting for her father's consent. Whilst Lludd, the sun god, had been taking his time, Gwythyr had eloped with Creiddylad.
Gwyn was aghast, 'What, she is gone?’ Wretched with anger he was determined to have revenge. 'I will find her!’ He swore and leaping onto his great white mare he struck up a cloud to gallop into. With his owl to guide him he soon emerged in the very room where Gwythyr was about to lay with Creiddylad. In the bout that ensued, Gwythyr received a hard fist upon his mouth that split his lip wide open.
Creiddylad was stunned as she also loved Gwyn ap Nudd. He pulled her up onto his mare behind him and they galloped back into the rising mist. Now it was Gwythyr who had been left in the dark with nothing to touch but his pain.
Gwythyr became as angry as Gwyn was and gathered a host to fight Gwyn but Gwyn prevailed. He took everyone prisoner but Nwython, whose heart was fed Cyledyr, his son. As Cyledyr went mad and the world became insensible, Arthur heard tell of it all and summoned Gwyn to release the prisoners and make peace with Gwythyr. And that this was the peace that was made between them:
That the maiden should remain in her father's house, untouched by either side, and that there should be battle between them each Beltain until the Doomsday when the victor then may have her.
And so since then and every subsequent May, Gwyn and Gwythyr fight for their heart's desire. As a consequence winter moves aside for the warmth of summer and spring lays between them in the need to be flowered!
The Tale of Gwyn & Twrch Trwyth
A monstrous boar was once causing the men of Ireland a great deal of grief. Its name was Twrch Trwth and it was generally believed that it was really a man who for his sins had been cast into an animal’s body. Whatever was the case, the men of Britain asked Arthur to hunt the animal and yet all knew that the only way to render it harmless was to remove a comb, a razor and a set of shears that it wore amongst the bristles on its head.
Arthur collected all of his warriors and then set off to Ireland where the boar had come to rest. By the time Arthur had landed and had been met by of its warriors, Twrch had destroyed a third of the country. The men of Ireland gave Arthur their food and then they all set out after the boar and went to Esgeir Oervel where Twrch Trwyth and his seven young pigs were resting. Such as they were they were surrounded by men and dogs and on the word of Arthur himself they charged at the beast but were fought back and quite boldly. On the next day Arthur and his men kept up the fight and on the day after that Arthur made battle with the boar himself but only managed to kill one of the piglets.
After that Arthur sent Gwrhyr Gwakstawt Leithoedd to try to talk with Twrch. To do this he took the shape of a bird and settled himself upon Twrch’s lair and said, “for the sake of Him who put this shape upon you, if you can speak, I ask one of you to come and talk with Arthur.” Now one of these piglets was called Grugyn Gwrych Ereint and this was because of his bristles which were said to be like silver wings for whatever the pathway he took through a forest, the glitter of his bristles could be seen sparkling around him. He now answered, “For the sake of Him who put this form upon us, we will neither say nor do anything for Arthur. God did us injury enough making us pigs out of men without your coming to fight us.” And then he told Gwrhyr that Arthur would never get Twrch’ treasures and that the next day they would all be setting out to the greatest damage in Arthur’s own country, Britain.
Then the pigs made their way to the sea and swam to Kymry. With Arthur pursuing them they passed through Mynyw and man and beast were killed before Twrch was encountered at Kwm Kerwyn. There he stood at bay until he had killed four of Arthur’s greatest men and then he charged and charged again until he’d killed Arthur’s son, Gadre, and wounded Arthur himself.
Another day passed and at daybreak Arthur’s men overtook Twrch until the boar had managed to kill all three of Glewlwyt servants so that he no longer had anyone to hunt with but himself! Many more men then continued to be killed and many more became confused as suddenly the trail was lost and no man or dog could find it. Clearly Twrch had gone to ground so calling the king of the underworld himself, Arthur summoned Gwyn son of Nudd to him and asked if he with all of his great hunting experience and knowledge of the wild, knew where Twrch Trwyth could now be found. Sadly however, Gwyn could not help him but offered to ride beside him. This was no ordinary boar after all and it would take no easy course to out run him but with faery warriors amongst hard men of Britain, the chances of victory could only be uplifted.
Working therefore even harder than before, dogs and servants alike, the monstrous boar was eventually found and attacked. It was a hard fight and all fought well, but the boar escaped again and made its way to Mynydd Amanw where yet another piglet died.
Now ensued a battle of life and death that was of such great exorbitance that again another piglet was killed and Twrch fled to Llwch Ewin. Only there was he overtaken by Arthur as before, but also there more dogs and men died until Grugyn Gwallt Ereint was separated from the throng and was killed. Sadly this came too late to save the King of Brittany!
So the pursuit of Twrch Trwyth went on ...... an on, until Arthur finally summoned the men of Kernyw and Dyfneint to meet him at the mouth of the Hafren. There he said to all his warriors, “Twrch Trwyth has killed a number of my men. By the courage of man he shall not go into Kernyw while I am alive, nor will I pursue him further, rather I will pit my life against his. You men may do as you wish.” It was a speech to accomplish all Arthur could have hoped for and it so effected Mahon son of Modron that he immediately mounted Gwynn Mygdwnn, Gweddw’s horse, and rode to the point of the river where the boar had been chased. Then together with his champions, Arthur seized Twrch’s feet and kept him under the water until with the currents rolling all over him, Mahon had grasped hold of the shears.
What followed in turn were many more mystical adventures until all the treasures were obtained and Twrch was driven into the sea!
The Tale of Gwyn ap Nudd & Gwydneu Garanhir
(This is a dialogue poem from the Welsh written ‘Black Book of Carmarthen’, reproduced and translated by J Gwenogbryn Evans)
The poem begins with Gwyn and Gwdyneu crossing each other’s path during the process of an engagement or just shortly after it. In this translation, Gwdyneu's exchange is represented in green, Gwyn in black:
|
A
bull of conflict was he, active in dispersing an arrayed
Against a hero stout was his advance,
For thou has given me protection
I come from battle and conflict
I
will address thee, exalted man,
Round-hoofed is my horse, the torment of battle,
Since it is thou, Gwyn, an upright man,
Hasten to my ridge, the Tawë abode;
Polished is my ring, golden my saddle and bright:
Before Caer Vandwy a host I saw,
Gwyn, son of Nudd, the hope of armies,
Handsome my dog, and round bodied,
Dormath with the ruddy nose! what a gazer
I have been in the place where was killed Gwendoleu,
I have been in the place where Brân was killed,
I have been where Llacheu was slain,
I have been where Meurig was killed,
I have been where Gwallawg was killed,
I have been where the soldiers of Britain were slain,
I have been where the soldiers of Britain were slain, |
In another translation the exchange runs similarly:
1 Gwydneu: Bull of battle! Leader of the host! You, who are slow of anger and of a blameless life, - for me is there sanctuary?
2 Gwyn: In as much as you are a man of stout valour, leader of a host, and sue for sanctuary, you shall have it.
3 Gwydneu: Hope of the host, from which side do you come?
4 Gwyn: Whence do I come? I come from the field and the great clashing of arms: I come with targe in hand, - my helmet they broke in pieces by a spear-thrust.
5 Gwydneu: I congratulate you, pursuing hero, who have saved your shield for need. Glorious one! Who and what are you?
6 Gwyn: I am called the enchanter. I am Gwyn, the son of Nudd, the lover of Creiddylad, the daughter of Lludd. This, my horse, is Carangrwn, the terror of the field; he will not let me parley with you; when bridled he is restless; he is impatient to go to Drum, my home on the Tawe’. I do not mean the Towy near by, but the Tawe some distance away. I am retiring to the border of the Mare Tyrrhenum. My gold ring and my white saddle I cast off, because of my sorrow, for I have witnessed slaughter before Caer Vantwy. Yes, before Mantwy I have seen a host with their targes shivered, and their spears broken. Aye, the honourable even did violence to the fair.
Gwydneu is struck by Gwyn’s ‘candour’. He interrupts Gwyn to tell him his own name and remarks, ‘the troops fell faster before Gwyn’s horses than cut rushes to the ground’.
7 Gwyn: Fair is my dog and brave. The best of dogs is Dormarch: he was formerly with Maelgwyn Gwyned. Dormarch is ruddy-nosed when you look at him carefully, because as you perceive, he is constantly wandering in the mist of the mountain. I too wander, and have visited the death scenes of Gwendoleu the mainstay of the arts, of Bran, of Llacheu, the son of Arthur, whose arts were wonderful, and of Meurig. I have not been to the grave of Gwallawg in the land of Lloegri, but I have stood over the graves of the warriors of Britain from east to the north, and from east to the south. I am alive, they all are in the grave, dead.
Interpretation:
1 : Bull of conflict - this was a sacred title to bestow on another. In other poems, like The War of the Bulls, the title has mythical meaning for the Brown Bull and the White Horned were shapeshifters who functioned as Royal Swineherds - a respected profession due to it officiating the role of priest in service to the Death Goddess. As Gwyn, la Death God, works with the Death Goddess, he could also be considered a Swineherd (or Death Priest) of men’s souls.
Leader of the host - respectful recognition of Gwyn’s high station.
You, who are slow to anger etc - salutations giving Gwyn the characterisation of someone who can control his temperament, the skill of integrity observed by heroes.
For me is there sanctuary? - A call for protection from the enemy - Gwyn has ultimate authority to protect all souls and can be called on.
2 : In as much as you are a man of stout valour - Gwyn focuses on Gwydneu’s strengths.
Leader of a host - respectful acknowledgement of high station.
and sue for sanctuary, you shall have it. - the request is repeated and granted.
3: Hope of the host, etc - A further salutation before Gwyn is asked on which side he is fighting.
4: Whence do I come? etc - Gwyn's reply is laboured. He uncovers events as in (the ‘clashing of arms’) that still echo in his head after a spear-thrust had broken his helmet in pieces!
5: I congratulate you, pursuing hero, etc - Gwydneu praises the personage of whom he believes is heroic. He refers to Gwyn’s surviving shield. Shields were used in defence and Gwyn's is not raised suggesting he is trustworthy.
6: I am called the enchanter. etc - Gwyn's reference to 'the enchanter' confirms Gwydneu is in an enchantment.
I am Gwyn, the son of Nudd - Nudd or Nodens was a great British God, one of his temples was at Lydney on the River Severn.
the lover of Creiddylad, the daughter of Lludd - her name translates as Heart's Desire, either symbolic of:
spring as the
season for fecundity
ancient
Britain as threatened by the influx of invaders
the
world, as considered the embodiment
of the goddess
the loss of the Sacred Feminine,
a once considered vital role which became negatively presented in the
emergence of patriarchy.
This, my horse, is Carngrwn, the terror of the field; etc - Gwyn's horse is like no other. He assists the gathering of the Dead for their Afterlife.
he is impatient to go to Drum, my home on the Tawe - Cefn Drum is near the River Tawe in Swansea and is approximately 9 miles from Neath Abbey.
My gold ring and my white saddle I cast off - A white saddle (calf leather) is an indication of quality and comfort. Casting it off may signify humility or mourning.
I have seen a host with their targes shivered - The acts preceding Death are described in terrible detail. The notion that heroes should die a good death is questioned here by the fact so many good men died dishonourably.
Gwydneu is struck by Gwyn’s candour. Candour translates as sincerity which is another meaning of Gwyn’s name.
7: Fair is my dog and brave. etc - Dormarch or Dormarth, translates as Death’s Door although Mach of Dor-Mach translates Mach as a bail. The door version could represent the dog as a totem animal guarding the portal Gwyn oversees and the bail version may significant the beast's role in leading the dead to safety.
He was formerly with Maelgwn Gwynedd. - Maelgwn was the King of North Wales.
Dormarch is ruddy nosed when you look at him carefully - a guiding light for the lost and seeking.
I too wander ...... I am alive, they all are in the grave, dead - Gwyn visits everyone at their time of death to guide them to their Afterlife.
The White Son of Night
In this telling of the legend of Gwyn ap Nudd, Gwyn visits a woman each night from one full moon to another. Although it his intention to awaken her past memories, there is within this story of heroism and love a guide to heroic practice for any individual to follow.
Reference Sources/Links