Annwn and the Dead – Those Who Live On

March 30, 2024March 21, 20241 Comment

Introduction – Who Lives On?

In ‘The Conversation of Gwyn ap Nudd and Gwyddno Garanhir’, Gwyn, a ruler of Annwn and gatherer of souls, speaks the following lines:

‘I was there when the warriors of Britain were slain
From the east to the south;
I live on; they are dead.’ (1)

Here Gwyn draws a distinction between Himself living on and the mortal warriors who have died. He and His people, the spirits of Annwn or fairies, are immortal or at least very long-lived. Annuvian figures are often capable of returning from death (for example the Green Knight) and although there have been sightings of fairy funerals they are rare occasions of exceptional sadness.

In my last two articles I argued that Annwn is primarily a world of the living to which Gwyn and His people guide the souls of the dead to be reborn from His magical vessel of rebirth – the Cauldron of the Head of Annwn.

I then cited evidence for certain souls, such as the souls of inspired bards and brave warriors, living on for longer and perhaps attaining immortality. In this article I will be examining other examples and exploring the reasons why some souls pass into new lives and others choose, or are chosen, to live on.

1. Inspired Bards

Previously I showed how Taliesin stole the awen from the cauldron and became ‘unfettered’ from the cycle of reincarnation as an inspired bard.

Taliesin claims his ‘native abode / is the land of the Cherubim’ and boasts of visiting the Court of Don and the fortresses of Gwydion and Arianrhod. (2) The abodes of the Children of Don are located in the landscape of Wales and in the stars. According to Charles Squire, the Court of Don is Cassiopea, Caer Arianrhod the Northern Crown, and Caer Gwydion the Milky Way. (3) Taliesin thus might be seen to join the immortal Gods feasting in the Heavens.

This might explain where he gained his ‘two keen spears: / from Heaven did they come’ (4) which he used to pierce the monsters of Annwn in ‘The Battle of the Trees’.

Taliesin brags about singing a ‘harmonious’ song in Caer Siddi ‘The Fairy Fort’. Considering he raided this Annuvian fortress one wonders whether this was a victory song he is claiming is superior to the songs of the fair folk.

The long-lived, or immortal, spirit of Taliesin has been invoked and channelled by bards for many centuries and modern bards, such as Kevan Manwaring and Gwilym Morus-Baird continue this practice in the present day.

Yet Taliesin is not the only bard whose spirit continues to live on. Another well-known example is Myrddin (Merlin). After dying a three-fold death (5) at the hands of shepherds at the confluence of Pausalyl Burn and the river Tweed in Drumelzier he continues to prophecy from his grave at Aber Caraf.

‘He who speaks from the grave
Knows that before seven years
|March of Eurdein will die.

I have drunk from a bright cup
With fierce and warlike lords;
My name is Myrddin, son of Morvyn’. (6)

Myrddin spoke through me resulting in a poem called ‘Myrddin’s Scribe’. This happened at a time when I was researching his lesser-known story as the northern British wildman Myrddin Wyllt and he continues to speak to others. His northern origins have been investigated by a series of scholars from William Skene to Nikolai Tolstoy, Tim Clarkson and William A. Young. Only recently have they grown in public recognition enough to warrant the initial plans for the building of a ‘Merlin Centre’ at Moffat in Annandale. (7)

Other bards included with Taliesin amongst the Cynfeirdd ‘early poets’ who might live on include Talhaearn Tad Awen, Aneirin, Bluchbardd and Cian.

2. The Brave not the Cowardly

The Cauldron of the Head of Annwn ‘does not boil a coward’s food’ (8). This statement might be read on a number of levels. It could refer to the tradition of the champion’s portion, or the ‘food’ or ‘meat’ might be a metaphor for awen. Awen carries connotation of inspiration and destiny which are breathed into a person by the Gods (9) at auspicious moments including rebirth.

An ambiguous image on the Gundestrup Cauldron might represent rebirth in either world. Are the warriors plunged headfirst into the cauldron by a deity with a hound, likely Gwyn, riding away to a mortal life in Thisworld or to join Him and His people, living on, perhaps forever, as magical huntsmen?

In the Norse myths the spirits of courageous warriors join Odin feasting in Valhalla. Might brave souls be similarly rewarded by joining Gwyn’s feast?

This is suggested in the writing of Pomponius Mela who records a druidic doctrine ‘commonly known to the populace so that warriors might fight more bravely, that the spirit is eternal and another life awaits the spirits of the dead’. (10)

Our evidence comes from warrior cultures but there is no reason to restrict the concept of bravery to warriors. In my personal experience any person might be rewarded for their courage by joining Gwyn on His hunt and at His feast.

3. Speaking Heads

In the Second Branch of The Mabinogion after Bendigeidfran is slain in battle he asks seven survivors, including Pryderi and Taliesin, to cut off his head and to feast with it for seven years in Harlech and for eighty years in Gwales. He tells them, ‘And you will find the head to be as good company as it ever was when it was on me’. (11) True to his word, ‘Having the head there was no more unpleasant than when Bendigeidfran had been alive with them’. (12)

This is suggestive of Brythonic beliefs about the soul residing in the head and being able to live on there after death. It suggests Bendigeidfran’s spirit was so strong it played a role in delaying the process of decomposition (although there are other factors at play in the pausing of time such as the singing of the birds of Rhiannon and the door that should not be opened). His spirit lived on in his head after death for at least eighty-seven years, continuing to speak with and counsel the seven companions.

We find evidence of this belief amongst the neighbouring Gauls from Roman writers. Diodorus Siculus says in war: ‘They capitate their slain enemies and and attach the heads to their horses’ necks… The choicest spoils they nail to the walls of their houses just like the hunting trophies from wild beasts. They preserve the heads of their most distinguished enemies in cedar oil and store them carefully in chests. These they display proudly to visitors, saying that for this head one of his ancestors, or his father, or he himself refused a large offer of money. It is said some proud owners have not accepted for a head an equal weight in gold, a barbarous sort of magnimity. For selling the proof of one’s valour is ignoble, but to continue hostility against the dead is bestial’. (13)

This passage, evidencing the tradition of head-hunting, is also suggestive of the belief the soul lives on in the head. More darkly it shows the dangers of one’s head being taken and one’s spirit living on in servitude to one’s enemies through the practice of embalming. This may be why Bendigeidfran was so keen for his people to take his head away before his enemies stole it.

Bran finally asked for his head to be buried under the Brynfryn ‘White Hill’ in London facing towards France. From thereon it served an atropaic function: ‘for no oppression would ever come from across the sea to this island while the head was in that hiding place’. (14)

4. Bog Heads and Bog People

The tradition of the living head is evidenced by the bog heads recovered from the mosslands of present-day Lancashire and Cheshire, which were inhabited by the Setantii, ‘the Reaping People’, at the time of their burial.

On Pilling Moss district was found ‘the head of a female… wrapped in coarse yellow cloth, with strings of beads. She is described as having a great abundance of hair, of a most beautiful auburn, which was plaited and of great length’ with a necklace of jet beads with ‘one large round amber bead’. (15)

Other bog heads include another female with plaited hair from Red Moss and male heads from Lindow Moss, Ashton Moss, Worsley, Briarfield and Birkdale. (16)

Peat bogs, known as mosslands in the north, are formed from Sphagnum mosses, which hold large amounts of water and break down to form peat. They provide anaerobic environments which prevent decay and are heavy in tannins, which preserve organic materials, including skin and organs.

The Setantii were likely well aware of these magical properties and placed the heads of their ancestors in the bogs so they continued to live on, like the head of Bendigeidfran, offering counsel and / or defending their territories.

We sometimes also find whole bog bodies such as Lindow Man and Seascale Man. Lindow Man died a ritualised three-fold death (like Myrddin). (17). This ritual killing has been read as a sacrifice to the Gods for aid in battle and as punishment for a criminal but might alternatively be read as a rite which bound his spirit in his body so he would live on.

His treatment prior to his death, such as the trimming of his moustache, the manicuring of his fingernails and his consumption of a griddle cake baked from wheat, barley and weed seeds and food, drink or medicine containing mistletoe pollen (18) are suggestive of preparation for a special fate, perhaps living on as a guide, for which he was chosen by his tribe and / or by the Gods.

5. The Venerable Dead

Prehistoric burial mounds look very much like houses for the dead. Indubitably they were created to appear this way for this reason. Thus it might be suggested that the spirits of the dead were believed to abide there or to return there at specific times in order to counsel the living.

Burials with grave goods, which include all the accoutrements needed in life, such as clothing, armour, weapons, games, jewellery, make-up sets, eating equipment and food, show the soul is believed to live on after death.

A number of suggestions about what it did in the afterlife might be made. Perhaps the soul was seen to reside in the burial mound or to move on to the Otherworld or perhaps it was able to move between the worlds at will.

That the soul remained in the mound or sometimes returned is suggested by the evidence of ritual feasts that might have taken place at liminal times such as Nos Galan Gaeaf when the veils between the worlds were thin. This way venerable ancestors might have lived on as counsellors and guides.

6. The Angry and Vengeful Dead

Whereas there were some persons who were chosen to live on there were others who certainly were not – enemies, criminals, the angry and vengeful.

Whilst some severed heads were placed in a bog to preserve the facial features of an ancestor some heads were mutilated perhaps with the intent of preventing the spirit from residing in the skull. Examples include the head from Briarfield which was ‘deposited in a defleshed state without the mandible’ and four defleshed skulls from the Thames. (19) The disarticulation of corpses and their binding (20) might have served a similar function. These practices suggest some spirits who lived on might have been powerful enough to raise their bodies and return physically from the dead.

Will Parker associates such dismemberments with the ‘devils’ of Annwn who are contained by Gwyn ap Nudd to prevent the destruction of the world. (21)

7. Witches of Annwn

Another group of individuals who were relentlessly persecuted and the likes of Arthur and his warriors seriously did not want to live on were the witches of Annwn.

This term appears in the poetry of Dafydd ap Gwilym:

‘Unsightly fog wherein the dogs are barking,
Ointment of the witches of Annwfn.’ (22)

It refers to a Gallo-Brythonic tradition of magic-workers whose powers and inspiration came from Annwn. Their practices are recorded on ritual tablets from ancient Gaul. On the Tablet of Chamalieres (50 AD) a group of male magic-workers invoke the Andedion ‘Underworld God(s) / Spirits’, Maponos and Lugus for aid in battle and the Tablet of Larzac (90 AD) records the ‘prophetic curse’ of a group of female ‘practitioners of underworld magic’. (23)

Others existed in ancient Britain for example the black-robed women who defended Anglesey from the invasion of the Romans with the Druids in the account of Tacitus. ‘Women in black clothing like that of the Furies ran between the ranks. Wild-haired they brandished torches. Around them, the Druids, lifting their hands to the sky to make frightening curses frightened (the Roman) soldiers with this extraordinary sight. And so (the Romans) stood motionless and vulnerable as if their limbs were paralysed’. (24)

The Christian persecution of these uncanny figures is recorded in our myths. At the end of Peredur son of Efrog the eponymous ‘hero’ slays the nine witches of Caer Loyw. A witch is killed in a specific way. ‘Peredur drew his sword and struck the witch on the top of the helmet, so that the helmet and all the armour and the head were split in two’. (25) The splitting of the head may be a ritual maneuver to prevent a witch’s soul from living on.

Arthur kills Orddu, ‘Very Black’, a hag who lives in a cave ‘in Pennant Gofid in the uplands of Hell’ in a similar manner. ‘Arthur… aimed at the hag with Carwennan, his knife, and struck her in the middle so she was like two vats.’ (26) Her severing in twain was likely intended to serve the same function.

From personal experience I know Arthur’s ploy was unsuccessful. On her death Orddu joined the spirits of Annwn and lives on with her mother, Orddu, and other witches of Annwn as guides to the magical tradition of the Old North.

Conclusion – To Live On or Not to Live On?

In this essay I have shown that certain persons choose, or are chosen by their people and / or the Gods to live on after death. It is likely they were chosen for personal qualities such as inspiration, bravery and wisdom to become ancestral guides with whom their people could commune.

On the other hand people went to great lengths to prevent the vengeful dead from returning. One example, from the not so distant past, is the burial of the ‘witch’ Meg Shelton face down with a boulder on top in St Anne’s graveyard in Woodplumpton, not far outside Preston, near my home, in 1705.

In ancient Britain, in a polytheistic society, in which the people lived in constant communion with the Gods and spirits there would have been a much deeper awareness of the processes surrounding whether a spirit lived on along with a knowledge of the rites for maintaining and dismissing their presence.

As the old ways return the question arises who amongst us might choose or be chosen to live on and, if given the choice, what answer we might give.

Hill, G. (transl), ‘The Conversation between Gwyn ap Nudd and Gwyddno Garanhir’, Awen ac Awenydd
Parker, W. (transl), The Mabinogion, (University of California Press, 2008), p173
Squire, C. Celtic Myth and Legend, (1905), p252-3 https://sacred-texts.com/neu/celt/cml/index.htm
Haycock, M. (transl), Legendary Poems from the Book of Taliesin, (CMCS, 2007), p183, l187-188
He is beaten with stones, tumbles into the water and drowns, and is impaled on a stake. E. Lawrence, ‘Threefold Death and the World Tree’, Western Folklore, Vol. 69, No.1, p92
Jones, M. ‘A Fugitive Poem of Myrddin in his Grave’, Mary Jones Celtic Literature Collective, l1-6, https://www.maryjones.us/ctexts/h02.html
Breen, Christie, ‘September date for Merlin study release’, DnG, https://www.dng24.co.uk/september-date-for-merlin-study-release/
Haycock, M. (transl), Legendary Poems from the Book of Taliesin, (CMCS, 2007), l17
Awen shares a similar root to awel ‘breath’ and the cauldron is kindled by the breath of nine maidens – likely Morgana and Her sisters.
Koch, J. The Celtic Heroic Age, (Celtic Studies Publications, 2003), p32
Davies, S. (transl.), The Mabinogion, (Oxford University Press, 2007), p32
Ibid. p34
Koch, J. The Celtic Heroic Age, (Celtic Studies Publications, 2003), p13
It remained there until it was dug up by Arthur – one of ‘Three Unfortunate Disclosures’. Davies, S. (transl.), The Mabinogion, (Oxford University Press, 2007), p34, p237
Lamb, J. ‘Lancashire’s Prehistoric Past’ inSever, L. (ed.), Lancashire’s Sacred Landscape, (The History Press, 2010), p27
Barrowclough, D. Prehistoric Lancashire, (The History Press, 2011), p206
He was hit on the head, garroted, then he drowned in the bog.Joy, J. Lindow Man, (The British Museum Press, 2009), p38 – 44.
Ibid. p29
Barrowclough, D. Prehistoric Lancashire, (The History Press, 2011), p209
Ibid. p205
Parker, W., The Four Branches of the Mabinogi, (Bardic Press, 2005), p645
Gwilym ap, D. Poems, (Gomer Press, 1982), p134
Koch, J. The Celtic Heroic Age, (Celtic Studies Publications, 2003), p1-3
Ibid. p34
Davies, S. (transl.), The Mabinogion, (Oxford University Press, 2007), p102
Ibid. p213

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Aldhouse Green, M., Dying for the Gods: Human Sacrifice in Iron Age and Roman Europe (The History Press, 2002)
Barrowclough, D. Prehistoric Lancashire, (The History Press, 2011)
Breen, Christie, ‘September date for Merlin study release’, DnG, https://www.dng24.co.uk/september-date-for-merlin-study-release/
Cooper, A., Garrow, D., Gibson, C., Giles, M., Wilkin, N. Grave Goods: Objects and Death in Later Prehistoric Britain, (Oxbow Books, 2022)
Davies, S. (transl.), The Mabinogion, (Oxford University Press, 2007
E. Lawrence, ‘Threefold Death and the World Tree’, Western Folklore, Vol. 69, No.1, p92
Fahey, R. ‘Mystery of 80 bound skeletons found in mass grave explained by items found with their remains’, The Mirror, (2021)
Guest, C. (transl), The Mabinogion, (1838)
Gwilym ap, D. Poems, (Gomer Press, 1982)
Haycock, M. (transl), Legendary Poems from the Book of Taliesin, (CMCS, 2007)
Hill, G. (transl), ‘The Conversation between Gwyn ap Nudd and Gwyddno Garanhir’, Awen ac Awenydd
Hughes, K. 13th Mt Haemus Lecture: Magical Transformation in the Book of Talieisn and The Spoils of Annwn, (OBOD, 2019)
Jones, M. ‘A Fugitive Poem of Myrddin in his Grave’, Mary Jones Celtic Literature Collective
Joy, J. Lindow Man, (The British Museum Press, 2009)
Koch, J. The Celtic Heroic Age, (Celtic Studies Publications, 2003)
Morus-Baird, G. Taliesin Origins, (Celtic Source, 2023)
Sever, L. (ed.), Lancashire’s Sacred Landscape, (The History Press, 2010)
Squire, C. Celtic Myth and Legend, (1905), p252-3 https://sacred-texts.com/neu/celt/cml/index.htm

Annwn – A Land of the Living or the Dead?

March 5, 2024March 5, 20246 Comments

Introduction – Annwn ‘Very Deep’

Over the last couple of centuries there has been a good deal of scholarly debate about whether Annwn is a land of the dead or whether, instead, it is a land of the living. Annw(f)n, from the suffix an ‘Very’ and dwfn ‘Deep’ (1), features in medieval Welsh literature and is generally understood to be the Brythonic Otherworld and later became known as Faery.

In this article I will introduce the evidence for and against the presence of the dead in Annwn in the source texts and the arguments of scholars past and present. Then, on the basis of this inquiry, I will present my conclusion.

1. The Fairest Men

In the First Branch of The Mabinogion, in which Pwyll prince of Dyfed takes the place of Arawn, a King of Annwn, for a year, there is no evidence that Annwn is a land of the dead. The people of Annwn are very much alive. They, their land, dwellings and accoutrements are far brighter and more beautiful than anything seen in Thisworld and they appear to live a life of endless pleasure.

‘He could see… the fairest and best-equipped men that anyone had seen, and the queen with them, the most beautiful woman that anyone had ever seen, wearing a golden garment of brocaded silk… They spent the time eating and drinking, singing and carousing. Of all the courts he had seen on earth, that was the court with the most food and drink and golden vessels and royal jewels.’ (2)

We find a very similar depiction of the fortress of Gwyn ap Nudd, another King of Annwn (3), in The Life of St Collen.

‘And when he (Collen) came there, he saw the fairest castle he had ever beheld, and around it the best appointed troops, and numbers of minstrels, and every kind of music of voice and string, and steeds with youths upon them the comeliest in the world, and maidens of elegant aspect, sprightly, light of foot, of graceful apparel, and in the bloom of youth and every magnificence becoming the court of a puissant sovereign. And he beheld a courteous man on the top of the castle, who bade him enter, saying that the king was waiting for him to come to meat. And Collen went into the castle, and when he came there, the king was sitting in a golden chair. And he welcomed Collen honourably and desired him to eat, assuring him that, besides what he saw, he should have the most luxurious of every dainty and delicacy that the mind could desire, and should be supplied with every drink and liquor that his heart could wish; and that there should be in readiness for him every luxury of courtesy and service, of banquet and of honourable entertainment, of rank and of presents: and every respect and welcome due to a man of his wisdom.’ (4)

However, it is hinted at that the fairness of these men and their ruler and the banquet they offer is illusory and behind them lies a more sinister reality. Collen refuses to eat the food calling it ‘the leaves of trees’. He disdains the ‘equipment’ of the men saying ‘red… signifies burning’ and ‘blue… signifies cold.’ (5) The implication is that the beauty of the banquet is an illusion cast by fairy magic and that these people are hellish and might even number the dead.

The paradisal view of Annwn is echoed in the poetry of Taliesin. In ‘The Spoils of Annwn’ he speaks of seven fortresses raided by Arthur. One is called Caer Vedwit ‘The Mead Feast Fort’ and in its centre lies the cauldron of the Head of Annwn. In Caer Rigor ‘The Petrification Fort’ ‘sparkling wine’ is set in front of a batallion. A youth named Gweir sings in chains in front of the glittering spoils in Caer Siddi ‘The Fairy Fort’. (6)

In ‘The Chair of Taliesin’ Caer Siddi is described more fully:

‘Harmonious is my song in Caer Siddi;
Sickness and age do not afflict those who are there…
Three instruments/organs around a fire play in front of it
and around its turrets are the well springs of the sea;
and (as for) the fruitful fountain which is above it –
Its drink is sweeter than the white wine.’ (7)

However ‘The Spoils of Annwn’ is shot through with images of restriction and violence. Gweir in his ‘heavy grey chain’ (8) and the Brindled Ox ‘with his stout collar, / and seven-score links in his chain’. (9) The six thousand unspeaking men and the uncommunicative watchman guarding the glass walls. The lightning thrust of Lleog’s ‘flashing sword’ into the cauldron and its theft by Lleminog’s hand. The refrain, ‘save seven none returned from the … fort.’ (10)

In ‘The Conversation of Gwyn ap Nudd and Gwyddno Garanhir’, Gwyn speaks of His ‘sorrow’ at seeing battle at one of the seven fortresses, Caer Vanddwy. ‘I saw a host / Shields shattered, spears broken, / violence inflicted by the honoured and fair.’ (11) Here Gwyn, who I believe to be the Head of Annwn, laments that his fair people were forced to inflict violence on Arthur and his men, because of their raiding behaviour killing three shiploads. ‘Three full loads of Prydwen we went into it: save seven none came back.’ (12) This shows death can take place in Annwn.

No mention is made of whether there are casualties on the side of the Head of Annwn and His people. A parallel tale in Culhwch ac Olwen suggests the cauldron-keeper and retinue are killed (13) and, possibly, the king himself. Yet, like another Annuvian figure, the Green Knight, He doesn’t stay dead long. His fair men, unaging, unsickening, may likewise be immortals.

2. Such the Fairies Seize and Keep

A source showing more explicitly that the dead can be found in Annwn / Faery is the medieval Breton lay Sir Orfeo. This retelling of the Greek story of the descent of Orpheus (Orfeo) to Hades (Annwn / Faery) to recover Eurydice (Heurodis) is set in Winchester (which may be named after Vindos / Gwyn).

Here the dead are found by Orfeo in the castle of the Fairy King:

Some headless stood upon the ground,
Some had no arms, and some were torn
With dreadful wounds, and some lay bound
Fast to the earth in hap forlorn.

And some full-armed on horses sat,
And some were strangled as at meat,
And some were drowned as in a vat,
And some were burned with fiery heat,
Wives lay in child-bed, maidens sweet…

… such the fairies seize and keep.’ (14)

It is notable these people died untimely deaths. Implicitly, when Heurodis was bitten by the snake, she died and the Fairy King and Queen restore her to life.

Additionally, in Breton culture, the dead are said to go to Annwn. (15) In later folklore there are numerous tales of fairies taking the living and dead to their realm.

3. Gwyn ap Nudd – Gatherer of Souls

In ‘The Conversation of Gwyn ap Nudd and Gwyddno Garanhir’ Gwyn is represented as a ‘bull of battle’, a divine warrior and huntsman, who appears to gather the soul of Gwyddno, who implicitly is dead, back to Annwn. In this poem Gwyn speaks of attending the deaths of a number of famous warriors. This is followed by a lament which shows His immortal nature:

‘I was there when the warriors of Britain were slain
From the east to the north;
I live on; they are in the grave.

I was there when the warriors of Britain were slain
From the east to the south;
I live on; they are dead.’ (16)

In Culhwch ac Olwen we learn ‘God’ has put the aryal ‘fury’ of ‘the demons of Annwfn’ in Gwyn and ‘he will not be spared from there’ ‘lest the world be destroyed’. (17) Reading beneath the Christian overlay we find the suggestion that part of Gwyn’s role as a King of Annwn is to contain a host of dangerous spirits, who may number the dead, to prevent Thisworld’s destruction.

We are told ‘Twrch Trwyth will not be hunted until Gwyn ap Nudd is found.’ (18). ‘Twrch Trwyth’ ‘Chief of Boars’ is presented as a human king changed into a boar ‘for his sins’ ‘by God’. (19) Again, reading beneath, we see the twrch is a human soul in animal form. He cannot be hunted until Gwyn is found as Gwyn is the leader of the hunt for souls – the Wild Hunt.

In later folklore Gwyn is depicted riding out with the Hounds of Annwn on Nos Galan Gaeaf, again leading the Wild Hunt, (20) and as a demonic figure with a black face and horns hunting the soul of a sinner on Cefn Creini. (21)

Put together with the evidence in Sir Orfeo this suggests Gwyn hunts and gathers the souls of dead (in particular the battle-dead and those who died traumatically) and takes them to his fortress in Annwn. His people, the spirits of Annwn / fairies also play a role in the passage of the souls of the dead.

Thus, so far, we have a picture of Annwn as primarily a land of the living to which the dead (and occasionally the living) are taken by Gwyn and His fair men.

4. A Final Destination?

I shall pause here to consider some scholarly opinions. John Rhys clearly views Annwn as a land of the dead for he equates it with Hades, the Greek underworld, where souls stayed forever in a shadowy afterlife. Rhys speaks of another otherworldly fortress, Caer Arianrhod, as a ‘Court of Death’ (22) and of Gwyn and His ‘hell-hounds’ hunting ‘disembodied souls’. (23)

Contrastingly, Roger Sherman Loomis (here cited in a lecture by Kristoffer Hughes) claims Annwn ‘is the realm of the ever-living ones, the immortals, or the abode of the Celtic Gods.’ It lacks mortal inhabitants and those who venture there do not undergo death and usually return unharmed. (24)

Recent scholars take a more nuanced view. Angelika Rudiger argues for the Welsh belief: ‘the realm of the fairies was not generally a realm of the dead but reserved for a special kind of deceased… a kind of liminal space where those souls can linger whose moral life has prematurely ended, but who are not yet “ripe” to be accepted into heaven or hell’ resembling the ‘Catholic limbo’. (25) She cautions against ‘reducing Annwn… to a land of the dead’ or ‘fairies to the spirits of the dead’ and concludes ‘Annwn is a liminal world, though not an abode set aside exclusively for the departed’ (26).

Considering whether Annwn is ‘a type of land of the dead’ Gwilym Morus-Baird cites Dafydd Epynt who describes ‘how in death the poet “casts aside his spear and the four elements”’. Morus-Baird compares this to Taliesin’s creation from ‘seven substances’ (the traditional four elements air, fire, earth and water along with mist, flowers and wind) and says ‘the common idea in all these poems is that the four elements are the foundations of physical existence, and therefore don’t belong in Annwn’. (27)

Annwn is, instead, a place where spirits reside. These include the spirits of dead bards such as Taliesin and Merlin. Both of these famous bards have been through the process of death and rebirth many times. Thus Morus-Baird concludes that Annwn ‘is not a final destination for one’s death, but a place the soul passes through on the way to further incarnations’. (28)

Morus-Baird’s view fits with the evidence from Roman writers on the beliefs of the ancient Celts. For example Julius Caesar says they believe ‘the soul does not die but crosses over after death from one place to another’ (29) and Diodorus Siculus that they ‘subscribe to the doctrine of Pythagoras that the human spirit is immortal and will enter a new body after a fixed number of years’. (30)

Conclusion – A Joyful Union

Following on from these arguments I am led to conclude that Annwn is primarily a land of the living in which the spirits of the dead reside for a period of time before being reborn. Rather than being a final destination, like Hades, or a limbo-land like Purgatory, it is a living realm where spirits are joyfully united with other immortals (such as Gwyn and His people) and reminded of their immortality before moving on into another form. These spirits, dead to us in Thisworld, in the Otherworld are very much alive. Only in rebirth, when they put back on the four elements, do they become mortal again.

This is the first in a series of articles exploring the existing lore about Annwn, Gwyn ap Nudd and the spirits of Annwn, and the dead. I’m planning to write more about my personal experiences of journeying to Annwn and how they relate to the source material and more widely on spiritwork in the Brythonic tradition.

I stopped writing such articles for a while because I got down-hearted by the fact that others, such as Gwilym Morus-Baird, Greg Hill, Kristoffer Hughes and Kris Hughes, do it a lot better (some more engagingly on video) and also because I was exploring Annwn more experientially and creatively. I’ve recently been given a kick by my Gods to bring the academic and the experiential together. And been told I have a unique perspective to share as a devotee of Gwyn guided by Orddu and her ancestors in the traditions of the Old North.

You can support my work by joining my Patreon HERE.

REFERENCES

There are a number of translations of Annwn and this one is from Kristoffer Hughes. Hughes, K. 13th Mt Haemus Lecture: Magical Transformation in the Book of Talieisn and The Spoils of Annwn, (OBOD, 2019), p10. Gwilym Morus-Baird notes: an ‘is often read as the preposition “in”, or in this context “inside or inner”, dwfn is a noun that has a few meanings in Middle Welsh: “world” or “sea”; but also as in Middle Welsh “deep” and “profound.” Altogether, Annwfn can be read as meaning “inner world” or “inner depth with connotations of profundity’. Morus-Baird, G. Taliesin Origins, (Celtic Source, 2023), p220-21
Davies, S. (transl.), The Mabinogion, (Oxford University Press, 2007), p5
Some argue that Gwyn ap Nudd, ‘White son of Mist’, and Arawn (meaning unknown) are titles of the same deity who is the ruler of Annwn.
Guest, C. (transl), The Mabinogion, (1838)
Ibid.
Haycock, M. (transl), Legendary Poems from the Book of Taliesin, (CMCS, 2007), p435 – 437
Ibid. p277, l45 – 52
Ibid. p435, l6
Ibid. p437, l39 – 40
(10) Ibid. p436, l18 -19
(11) Hill, G. (transl), ‘The Conversation between Gwyn ap Nudd and Gwyddno Garanhir’, Awen ac Awenydd, l30 – 33
The lines cited here refer to Caer Siddi but the number of men on the ship and the refrain hold for all the fortresses. Haycock, M. (transl), Legendary Poems from the Book of Taliesin, (CMCS, 2007), p435, l9 – 10
‘Bedwyr got up and took hold of the cauldron… Llenlleog grabbed Caledfwlch and swung it round and killed Diwrnarch Wyddel and all his retinue.’ Davies, S. (transl.), The Mabinogion, (Oxford University Press, 2007), p208
Hunt, E. E. (transl), Sir Orfeo, (Forgotten Books, 2012), p21
Morus-Baird, G. Taliesin Origins, (Celtic Source, 2023), p261
Hill, G. (transl), ‘The Conversation between Gwyn ap Nudd and Gwyddno Garanhir’, Awen ac Awenydd
Davies, S. (transl.), The Mabinogion, (Oxford University Press, 2007), p199
Ibid. 199
Ibid. 209
Rhys, J. Celtic Folklore, Welsh and Manx, (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1901), p203
Ibid. p216
Rhys, J. Studies in the Arthurian Legend, (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1891), p157
Ibid. p 342
Hughes, K. 13th Mt Haemus Lecture: Magical Transformation in the Book of Talieisn and The Spoils of Annwn, (OBOD, 2019), p11
Rudiger, A. ‘Y Tylwyth Teg. An Analysis of a Literary Motif,’ (Bangor University, 2021), p75
Ibid. p78 – 79
Morus-Baird, G. Taliesin Origins, (Celtic Source, 2023), p258
Ibid. p261
Koch, J. The Celtic Heroic Age, (Celtic Studies Publications, 2003), p22
Ibid. p12

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Davies, S. (transl.), The Mabinogion, (Oxford University Press, 2007
Guest, C. (transl), The Mabinogion, (1838)
Haycock, M. (transl), Legendary Poems from the Book of Taliesin, (CMCS, 2007)
Hill, G. (transl), ‘The Conversation between Gwyn ap Nudd and Gwyddno Garanhir’, Awen ac Awenydd
Hughes, K. 13th Mt Haemus Lecture: Magical Transformation in the Book of Talieisn and The Spoils of Annwn, (OBOD, 2019)
Koch, J. The Celtic Heroic Age, (Celtic Studies Publications, 2003)
Morus-Baird, G. Taliesin Origins, (Celtic Source, 2023)
Rhys, J. Studies in the Arthurian Legend, (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1891)
Rhys, J. Celtic Folklore, Welsh and Manx, (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1901)
Rudiger, A. ‘Y Tylwyth Teg. An Analysis of a Literary Motif,’ (Bangor University, 2021)

Forgotten Arfderydd and the Hearsay of Corvids

March 17, 20153 Comments

Last Saturday I set out north to the site of the Battle of Arfderydd. At the forefront of my mind was the matter of forgetting.

If Arfderydd was significant enough to be recognised as one of Three Futile Battles of Britain, if it was where Gwenddolau, the last pagan Brythonic king of the Old North, made his final stand and one hundred and sixty men lost their lives before he died and three hundred after and where Myrddin Wyllt went mad, why no marker of the site? Why no songs? Why has Arfderydd been forgotten?

Considering Gwyn ap Nudd stated his presence at Gwenddolau’s death and at the deaths of other northern warriors and the episode where he abducts Creiddylad, Gwythyr and his (mainly northern) supporters takes place in the Old North why has his memory faded from the minds of the people of northern Britain?

In search of clues, a friend and I travelled north to Longtown and set off on foot up Netherby Road, consciously following in the footsteps of William Skene and Nikolai Tolstoy. The first place we visited was Netherby Hall, the mansion of the Graham family built on the site of the Roman fort Castra Exploratum. An altar dedicated to a god called Vitris and ram-horned head carved from local red sandstone found nearby suggest it was the location of a Romano-British cult.

As we approached from the south Netherby Hall’s sandstone walls came into view atop a prominent ridge with polygonal towers, parapets and scaffolding. An encircling wire fence said strictly out of bounds. Following the path round the mansion we passed a woodland carpeted with snowdrops and trees stacked with rooks’ nests filled with noisy, vocal, raucous birds

Never before had I seen many rooks or heard such a racket. Their croaking and cawing see-sawed in my mind like something trying to break through. Unfortunately I don’t speak very good rook. Yet the rooks seemed important. More important than the blank face of the mansion and its ‘Private’ sign.

We rejoined the main road and headed north for Carwinley. When Lailoken (Myrddin Wyllt) told St Kentigern of his guilt at the deaths of the combatants and vision of a host of warriors (who I believe to be Gwyn and the spirits of Annwn) he stated the battle took place ‘in the field between Liddel and Carnwanolow.’ Skene identified Liddel with Liddel Water and Carnwanolow as Caer Gwenddolau and connected this with Carwinley.

Passing Carwinley cottage, farm and water mill we looked down into the sandstone gulley of the burn, steep banks green with ferns, onto shining reddish water. I recalled Andrew Breeze’s interpretation of Arfderydd as ‘burning weapon’ relating to this bloody stream forming the parish of Arthuret’s boundary. Breeze said ‘Car’ need not mark a fort but a defensive stockade. It certainly seemed possible the burn was named after Gwenddolau’s fall.

The Triads of Ancient Britain also mention ‘the retinue of Dreon the Brave at the Dyke of Arfderydd.’ Dreon ap Nudd is the son of Nudd Hael. If this etymological link to Gwyn ap Nudd (and his father Nudd or Nodens) suggests an ancient connection between a northern family and their ancestral deities it is no surprise Gwyn and his host appeared at the battle where Dreon and his retinue met their end.

As I pondered whether the ‘Dyke’ they fought on was above Carwinley Burn I saw crows over the trees who shouted and cawed then pitched their games across a sky of constant silver-grey cloud. A sky of concealing. A sky of protection. A sky of no openings onto crashing visions of warriors.

As we passed the green and well-tilled-over crow-haunted fields the dead did not rise. There were no whispers, no warnings, only the hearsay of corvids.

At Upper Moat where reputedly the three hundred men who fought after Gwenddolau’s death were buried there was no sign of the orchard Skene mentioned but crows filled the trees in the background.

Our final destination was Liddel Strength, a motte and bailey which might have been the location of Gwenddolau’s fort and where his ‘Faithful War Band’ could have made their last stand, fighting for a month and a fortnight after the death of their leader. Unable to find our way we were directed by a local farmer (coincidentally Skene was directed by a farmer from Upper Moat too!) onto a shooter’s path which climbed steeply beside Liddel Water.

On the way we encountered a line of not-dead reeds hauntingly reminiscent of flags or ribboned spears blowing in the wind on an abandoned battlefield. Or of forlorn warriors.

The site of Liddel Strength was badly eroded by the river and appallingly overgrown. Breaching the defensive ditch we scrambled through hat-snatching hawthorns and ankle-snagging brambles up the motte which didn’t feel overly welcoming in its firm return to nature. There were no crows but a bird of prey screeched somewhere out of sight reminding me of Gwenddolau’s birds who fed on the corpses of the Britons.

Looking down from the summit Liddel Water flowed far below at the foot of a slope impossible to ascend. Fields and woodland stretched out before us. The land seemed as determined in swallowing time as it was in absorbing the abandoned railway track Skene arrived on two hundred years ago. On our return journey only the bridge and fragments of the embankment remained.

The dereliction of Liddel Strength contrasted sharply with Caer Laverock Castle (the ‘Lark’s Nest’ Arfderydd was supposedly fought over) which we visited the next day. This splendid medieval stronghold belonging to the Maxwell family was well preserved by the National Trust. Its siege by the English immortalised in the ‘Song of Caerlaverock’ was reconstructed on a video in the display rooms.

Crows flocked in the trees and played over its terraces. South was an earlier fort closer to the Solway Firth, an artist’s representation showed the higher sea levels and its importance as a strategic location.

Heading north again we climbed Ward Law, a lookout point where the Maxwell Clan gathered shouting their battle cry: “Wardlaw! I bid ye bide Wardlaw!” Beyond was another Roman camp invisible from the ground.

Looking south from Ward Law to Solway Firth for the first time the all-encompassing silver-grey clouds broke. Seeing clear light and waters ablaze with cold fire I was reminded of the unendurable brightness Myrddin saw as Gwyn approached with the hosts of Annwn. The otherworld opening only just beyond the sands and tides of this-world.

I left with intuitions but no answers about Gwyn and his kindred, battles, forgetting, clouds and corvids… another part of this story waits to be told about the estuary of the river Nith and I shall be sharing this in my next post…

: Longtown and Netherby Hall, OS 323

: Carwinley, Liddel Water and Liddel Strength OS 323

: Caer Laverock Castle and Ward Law OS 322

SOURCES

Breeze, Andrew “The Name and Battle of Arfderydd, near Carlisle,” Journal of Literary Onomastics: Volume 2: Issue 1, Article 1. (2012)
Clarkson, Tim The Men of the North: The Britons of Southern Scotland (John Donald, 2010)
Heron (transl) ‘Gwyn ap Nudd and Gwyddno Garanhir’ https://barddos.wordpress.com/2015/02/08/gwyn-ap-nudd-and-gwyddno-garanhir/
Pennar, Meirion (transl.) The Black Book of Carmarthen (Llanerch Enterprises, 1989)
Ross, Anne Pagan Celtic Britain (Cardinal, 1974)
Skene, William F. The Four Ancient Books of Wales (Forgotten Books 2007)
Tolstoy, Nikolai The Quest for Merlin (Sceptre, 1985)

Gwyn ap Nudd and the Spirits of Annwn: Remembering the Underworld Gods

July 31, 2014August 15, 201419 Comments

I recently came across an article through the Caer Feddwyd Forum (1) called ‘The Underworld Gods’ by medieval scholar, Will Parker. It brought to my awareness the existence of an inscription in Chamalieres in central France, which took the form of a prayer or invocation addressed to an entity or group of entities known in Ancient Gaul as the andedion, ‘the Under-world God(s)’ or ‘Infernal One(s)’ (2).

Parker links the andedion to the Irish andee ‘non-gods’ and suggests a similar group of deities would have been worshipped in Iron Age Britain. Through etymological links between the ‘elements Clt. dio(n) (Ir. dé) ‘god(s)’ and ‘the suffix ande-/an-‘ he connects them to Annwn ‘not world’, Britain’s indigenous otherworld or underworld. Parker goes on to identify the andedion and andee with the spirits of Annwn and their ruler, Gwyn ap Nudd.

This is of interest to me because Gwyn is my patron god. Parker’s insights make it possible to trace a trajectory from Iron Age beliefs concerning underworld gods, through Gwyn’s appearances in medieval literature and later folklore to those who worship him today.

Gwyn ap Nudd ‘White Son of Mist’ is a Brythonic deity. His veneration dates back, at least, to the Iron Age, where he appears as Vindonnus ‘White or Clear Light,’ in a trio of Gallo-Brythonic inscriptions in Essarois. Here he is equated with Apollo, another hunter deity (3). It is likely he was worshipped across Britain as Vindos ‘White’ (4). It has also been conjectured that Gwyn and his hunting dog, Dormarth ‘Death’s Door’ occupied the astrological positions of Orion and Sirius to the ancient Britons.

Parker suggests Late Bronze Age ‘ritual shafts’ and ‘offering pits’ containing depositions including human and animal bones, grain, pottery and metalwork express a ‘quid-pro-quo’ relationship between the ancient Britons and the underworld gods. If he is correct, it is possible that Vindos / Gwyn, Dormarth and other kindred spirits were involved in these rites.

Gwyn’s first literary appearances are in medieval Welsh texts; ‘How Culhwch Won Olwen’ (11th C) in The Mabinogion and ‘The Dialogue of Gwyddno Garanhir and Gwyn ap Nudd’ (13th C) in The Four Ancient Books of Wales. These texts have roots in an older, oral tradition and contain fragments of tales from across Britain that predate Christianity. A significant number of these, including two featuring Gwyn, are from ‘The Old North’ (5). This is important to me because I connect with Gwyn in Lancashire.

Parker argues that superstitions about the underworld gods carry over into The Mabinogion. This is evidenced in the disappearance of livestock, children and crops. Pwyll’s encounter with Arawn, a King of Annwn, is the catalyst for the unfolding drama of the first four Mabinogi. Parker says these stories show the spirits of Annwn could not ‘be simply dismissed or ignored. Instead, a complex narrative had to be constructed in which, through a series of symbolic ritual manoeuvres, their power was drawn out, confronted and finally neutralised.’ The attempts of medieval scholars to disempower these deities can be seen at work in the development of Gwyn’s mythology.

In ‘The Dialogue of Gwyddno Garanhir and Gwyn ap Nudd,’ (6) Gwyn is presented as a divine warrior returning from battle to the Tawe near the vale of Neath. Gwyddno, ruler of Cantre’r Gwaelod, speaks of and addresses him with reverence and respect. ‘Bull of conflict was he, active in dispersing an arrayed army, / The ruler of hosts, indisposed to anger, / Blameless and pure was his conduct in protecting life.’ Other epithets Gwyddno uses include ‘hope of armies’ and ‘hero of hosts.’ ‘Host’ may refer to the spirits of Annwn.

Gwyn introduces himself as ‘Gwyn, the son of Nud, / The lover of Creurdilad, the daughter of Lud.’ He names his horse as ‘the torment of battle’ and refers to Dormarth as ‘truly the best of dogs,’ ‘handsome,’ ‘round bodied’ and ‘ruddy nosed.’ References to his possession of a ‘polished ring’ and ‘golden saddle’ are also suggestive of his status.

The title ‘Bull of Conflict’ refers to Gwyn’s role as a psychopomp. At the end of the poem he describes his travels across Britain gathering the souls of fallen soldiers. He appears to be berating this task. ‘I have been where the soldiers of Prydain were slain, / From the East to the North; / I am alive, they in their graves! / I have been where the soldiers of Prydain were slain / From the East to the South / I am alive, they in death!’

This poem contains important clues about Gwyn’s identity as a divine warrior and huntsman, whose role was to gather the souls of the dead and take them to Annwn.

In ‘How Culhwch Won Olwen’ in The Mabinogion, Gwyn is depicted as a huntsman and advisor to King Arthur. His place in Arthur’s court list and apparent subjection to both Arthur and God may be read as attempts by medieval scholars’ to explain and downgrade his position.

That ‘Twrch Trwyth will not be hunted until Gwyn son of Nudd is found’ (7) hints at his role as leader of the hunt, and knowledge of otherworldly beings. The Twrch was a king reputedly turned into a swine by God. When Gwyn does not reveal his location it is possible he is defending his own.

The advice of Gwyn and Gwythyr ap Greidol ‘Victor Son of Scorcher’ is also needed by Arthur to find Pennant Gofid in the ‘uplands of hell,’ which Evans and Bromwich say is ‘clearly situated in North Britain’ (8). When they reach this location, Gwyn and Gwythyr advise Arthur in his defeat of the ‘The Hag of Pennant Gofid,’ another otherworldly entity. The parcity of their advice, which leads to several failed attempts by Arthur’s men before the Christian King is forced to step in to slay her, may also suggest that Gwyn and Gwythyr are acting as tricksters.

A pair of lines fundamental to understanding Gwyn’s mythos, and which continue to intrigue and perplex me, are the following; ‘God has put the spirit of the demons of Annwfn in him, lest the world be destroyed. He will not be spared from there’ (9).

Taken literally, this seems to mean that at some point during the period of Christianisation God put the spirit of the demons of Annwn ‘in’ Gwyn’s person to prevent the world’s destruction. Or it may mean that he granted Gwyn rulership of them for this purpose. However, it is probable that the agency of God was brought in as a cover to excuse the prevalent belief in the existence of these spirits and their ruler.

Even if we assume God’s agency is a cover for existing beliefs, the notion that Gwyn somehow contains ‘the spirit of the demons of Annwn’ is a fascinating one. In a conversation via e-mail, Heron (10) told me the word ‘spirit,’ in Welsh, is ‘aryal,’ which can mean ‘ferocity,’ ‘essence’ or ‘nature’. He referred me to Evans and Bromwich, who say ‘Gwyn’s partaking of the ‘nature of the devils of Annwfn’ indicates a recognition on the part of the redactor of the tale that Gwyn ap Nudd belonged to a sinister and forbidden mythology’ (11). Within this mythology he may already be seen to embody the nature of these entities, or to hold power over them.

That the destruction of the world is at stake suggests Gwyn’s role was extremely significant. If it is assumed this notion has older roots, some of the offerings of the ancient Britons may be explained as attempts to placate these spirits and their ruler due to their destructive capacity. It is also possible Gwyn was invoked as the only being who could hold them in check.

Fears and superstitions surrounding Gwyn and the spirits of Annwn may lie behind the story of his abduction of Creiddylad. After Creiddylad, who is both Gwyn’s lover and sister, elopes with Gwythyr, Gwyn seizes her back. It might be assumed he takes her to Annwn, and that this suggests an underlying fear of being abducted by Gwyn and his forces.

Gwythyr amasses his armies and attacks Gwyn. Gwyn triumphs and captures a number of Gwythyr’s allies, who are mainly rulers of the Old North. During their captivity Gwyn slaughters Nwython, cuts out his heart and feeds it to his son, Cyledr, who goes mad. This could be read as a clear example of Gwyn’s ferocity and hints at existing superstitions about what goes on in Annwn.

Evans and Bromwich say the concentration of the names of people Gwyn kidnaps suggest ‘that north Britain was the ultimate place of origin for the Creiddylad episode, and that this incident was one of the surviving fragments of tradition emanating from there’ (12). It is therefore likely it originates in earlier beliefs held about Gwyn and his host by the Northern Britons.

Arthur eventually comes North to Gwythyr’s aid and frees his noblemen. Afterward he makes peace between Gwyn and Gwythyr by placing a dihenydd ‘fate’ on them. This dictates that they must fight for Creiddylad’s hand every Calan Mai ‘May Day’. An added condition, which seems particularly unfair, is that Creiddylad must remain in her father’s house, and no matter who wins neither can take her until Judgement Day. It is likely Arthur’s agency was brought in to explain an earlier myth, which was already prevalent in the Old North.

Whilst, on one level, this myth may be about fears of abduction to the underworld, it is more frequently interpreted as a seasonal drama comparable with Hades’ capture of Persephone. In this reading, Creiddylad is a maiden goddess who embodies the powers of spring and fertility. Creiddylad’s abduction by Gwyn may explain the failure of these powers at Calan Gaeaf, the first day of winter. Gwythyr and Arthur’s rescue of her at Calan Mai, the first day of summer, may explain their resurgence.

Winter Hill

Gwyn is also seen as the Winter King. It is possible his white, shining qualities relate to snow and cold, associations which could date back to the Ice Age. Elen Sentier links Gwyn with the reindeer goddess Elen of the Ways (13) and the Boreal forest. He may also be connected with the North wind. The 14th C Welsh poet Dafydd ap Gwilim refers to ‘Tylwyth Gwyn, talaith y gwynt’ ‘the family of Gwyn, the province of the wind’ (14). The pervasiveness of a myth featuring Gwyn in Northern Britain could have a basis in its harsh winters.

In a later text, The Life of St Collen (14th C), Gwyn is referred to as ‘the King of Annwn and the Fairies’ and is supposedly banished by the saint from Glastonbury Tor (15). The transition from belief in Gwyn as a King of Annwn to King of the ‘Tylwyth Teg’ or ‘Fair Folk’ is a significant one. The original natures of Gwyn and the spirits of Annwn are covered over by their reduction to diminutive form. However, hints at their mythos can still be found in the majority of folktales.

Gwyn retains his status as leader of the Wild Hunt in the folklore of Wales and Somerset. There he is seen to appear on horse back with a pack of white, red-eared hounds, riding out on Nos Calan Gaeaf and through the winter months, chasing down the souls of the dead. To hear his hounds is an omen of death. The other riders are seen often seen as captive souls and may represent the spirits of Annwn.

In the North West of England, however, the hunt is assigned either to the Norse god Odin, or to Christian angels. In Cumbria it is Michael, and in Lancashire and Yorkshire Gabriel is said to lead a pack of black, red-eyed dogs, the Gabriel Ratchetts.

Coincidentally, Preston born writer Francis Thompson is famous for a poem called ‘The Hound of Heaven.’ Anybody who has felt like Gwyn’s hounds are on their tail might find these lines hauntingly familiar; ‘I fled Him, down the nights and down the days; / I fled Him, down the arches of the years; / I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways / Of my own mind; and in the mist of tears / I hid from him, and under running laughter.’ (16)

More recently, Gwyn’s significance as an ancient god has been attested by contemporary scholars such as Geoffrey Ashe, in King Arthur’s Avalon (2007) and Nicholas R. Mann in The Isle of Avalon (1996) and Glastonbury Tor (2012). He is also the subject of a full length book called Gwyn: Ancient God of Glastonbury and Key to the Glastonbury Zodiac (2007) by Yuri Leitch.

This increase in interest suggests we are approaching a time when Gwyn and the spirits of Annwn are taken seriously as Brythonic deities again. However, the main focus of these books is Gwyn’s role at Glastonbury, with only a small mention of his place in Wales and other areas of Britain. Disappointingly there is no mention of Gwyn’s activities in the North. In this respect I have only my own experiences and conjectures to go on.

Fairy Lane

I first met Gwyn on Fairy Lane in my hometown of Penwortham, where he challenged me to journey with him to Annwn. Since then I have worked with him as a guide to the otherside of my local landscape and its hidden myths. His interest in my locality surprised me at first. However, it seems less surprising when looked at in the context of his role as an ancient underworld god of Britain, particularly in relation to the history and folklore surrounding this site.

Penwortham has been inhabited since 4000BC. The Riversway Dockfinds, a collection of animal bones, 30 human skulls, two dug out canoes and the remains of a timber structure suggest the existence of a lake village on Penwortham Marsh. Nearby is Castle Hill, a point of military and religious importance. There is a church dedicated to St Mary on the summit of Castle Hill, which means it was likely to have been a pre-Christian sacred site.

That the church is dedicated to St Mary and she was also the patron saint of a healing well at the foot of Castle Hill suggest the presence of an earlier female deity with healing powers, who has been Christianised as Mary. Three human skulls found in the wall of the church (17), which may have served an apotraic function suggest superstitious beliefs in chthonic spirits were also once popular but not openly acknowledged.

The survival of the legend of Penwortham Fairy Funeral attests to these superstitions. In the earliest version in Bowker’s Goblin Tales of Lancashire (1878), it is set on Church Avenue on Castle Hill. Two men walking home to Longton encounter a procession of fairies carrying a coffin. Robin, one of the men, looks into the coffin and sees his own miniature corpse. Frightened by the sight, they follow the fairies into St Mary’s graveyard. Robin attempts to prevent the burial by reaching out to grab the leader of the fairies. The procession vanishes and Robin, driven mad, topples to his death from a haystack a couple of months later (18). In later versions, this story takes place on Fairy Lane, which runs through Penwortham Wood at the foot of Castle Hill.

This legend may be interpreted to hint at older beliefs in underworld gods. Church ways are often identified with spirit paths. It is possible that prior to Christianity people believed chthonic spirits to have been actively involved in bearing the deceased to the underworld. The ringing of bells to drive them away and superstitions surrounding lych gates are testaments to fear of such entities. The movement of the legend to Fairy Lane may be seen as an attempt to sever their connection with the church. It is also possible it represents a shift in the energy of the area.

Gwyn ap Nudd and the spirits of Annwn (more frequently referred to as fairies today) are frightening beings. However, they play an essential role in maintaining the relationships between the worlds, the seasons, and the living and the dead. Like death itself and the cold dark of winter they will never go away. Their roles and identities, covered over or ignored for many centuries, can be recovered and understood.

Like Pwyll’s meeting with Arawn, my relationship with Gwyn has changed my life. He guides me to visions in Annwn and the physical world I would not be able to access without him. He teaches me to walk the spirit paths and inspires me to learn the song lines of this land’s ancestral heritage.

As late summer arrives, harvesters take to the fields and leaves begin to fall I sense the spirits of Annwn stirring, the first hint of the breath of winter on the wind. Monday is the date of the commemoration of the beginning of the First World War. When I help lay candles in front of Preston cenotaph for each of the 1956 soldiers who lost their lives I will remember that care of the souls of the battle dead was once believed to be Gwyn’s role.

(1) http://www.caerfeddwyd.co.uk/
(2) http://www.mabinogi.net/sections/Appendix/The_Underworld_Gods.pdf
(3) James MacKilliop, Dictionary of Celtic Mythology, (1998), p375
(4) Robin Herne, Old Gods, New Druids, (2009), p48
(5) A collection of Kingdoms in the North of England and Southern Scotland from 500AD and 800AD.
(6) Transl. William F. Skene, ‘The Dialogue of Gwyddno Garanhir and Gwyn ap Nudd,’ The Four Ancient Books of Wales, (2007), p210-211
(7) Transl. Sioned Davies, ‘How Culhwch Won Olwen,’ The Mabinogion, (2007), p199
(8) Ed. Rachel Bromwich and Simon Evans, Culhwch and Olwen, (1992), p169
(9) Transl. Sioned Davies, ‘How Culhwch Won Olwen,’ The Mabinogion, (2007), p199
(10) https://www.blogger.com/profile/02055792516386371373
(11) Ed. Rachel Bromwich and Simon Evans, Culhwch and Olwen, (1992), p133
(12) Ibid. p150
(13) Elen Sentier, Elen of the Ways, (2013), p26-28
(14) Dafydd ap Gwilim, Poems, (1982), p132 – 133
(15) http://www.maryjones.us/ctexts/collen.html
(16) Francis Thompson, The Hound of Heaven and Other Poems, (2000), p11
(17) Rev C. Nelson, St Mary’s Church, Penwortham, Lancashire, Archaeological Watching Brief and Explanation, (2011), p48
(18) http://www.gutenberg.org/files/39712/39712-h/39712-h.htm#THE_FAIRY_FUNERAL