By popular vote, I’m beginning what I hope will be a lengthy series on the fascinating subject of Welsh mythology. Before we start diving into the stories, I’d like to provide a brief historical background. Wales is a nation within the United Kingdom, on the west side of the island of Britain. The Welsh are a cultural remnant of the indigenous Celtic people of Britain, aptly named Britons. Other descendants of the Britons are the Cornish and the Bretons, with whom Welsh language and culture hold much in common. The Britons are distinct from their Irish, Scottish, and Manx cousins, despite their geographical proximity. The Britons spoke Brythonic, while their Gaelic cousins spoke Goidelic. However, both languages are considered to be part of the Insular Celtic family, and have more in common with one another than with the Continental Celtic Languages that developed across the English Channel.
On top of the unique Celtic culture that the Britons had, their history is radically different from the Goidelic Celts. Southeastern Britain was conquered by Rome in 43 AD, and by 83 AD the Romans had established forts as far north as Inverness in the Scottish Highlands. Despite the Roman conquests further north, they shortly fell back to Hadrian’s Wall, a massive stone fortification that protected everything south of the Solway Firth from the untamed north. The Roman conquests in Britain were some of the most hard-won in her history, and there are many battles and revolts that I won’t get into here. To help tame the new province, the Romans created defensible stone cities where they settled veterans and subjugated Brythonic tribes. The southern half of Britain was ruled by the Romans until 410 AD, and in those centuries the Britons became Romanized. They blended Roman culture with their own unique brand of Celtic culture to create something wholly new. The Britons embraced their new position in the Empire, and even put one of their own on the Imperial throne: Constantine the Great.
After the Roman Empire left the Britons to fend for themselves, they were almost immediately assaulted by barbarians on all sides. They fought the Irish in the west, the Picts in the north, and the Saxons in the east. At this point in time, many of the leading Britons fled to Gaul, where they established Brittany and became known as the Bretons. Whereas the Picts and Irish were primarily interested in raiding Brythonic settlements, the Saxons were bent on conquest. After hundreds of years of warfare, the Saxons pushed the native Britons back into the far, inaccessible peninsulas of Wales and Cornwall. The Brythonic nations never truly recovered. I think all Celtic mythology is filled with a sense of melancholy, but the long defeat of the Britons has charged their stories with a whole new level of emotion. I hope that you may come to love these stories as I have come to love them. We’ll begin our journey by diving into the Mabinogion, the greatest source of the most ancient myths preserved by the Britons. The Mabinogion is divided into branches, the first of which concerns Pwll, King of Dyfed.
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One day, Pwll thought to leave his court at Arberth and go hunting in Glyn Cuch, and so he collected his hunting dogs and departed. When he had arrived at Glyn Cuch, he loosed his dogs into the woods and they soon struck upon a scent. Pwll sounded his horn and the chase began, he after his dogs, and his dogs on the scent. They ran so fast and far that Pwll left his hunting companions far behind. As Pwll and his dogs drew ever nearer to the stag, he began to hear the barking of another pack, and he knew that someone else was pursuing the same quarry. He urged his dogs onward and the stag came in sight, but then fell to the earth as the other pack brought it down. Those hounds had shining coasts of white and red and were the fairest that Pwll had ever seen. Still, Pwll did not want to lose the stag, no matter how fine the hounds that brought it down. He pulled away the fair hounds and set his own dogs upon the stag, so it appeared as if his dogs had arrived first. Then the master of the fair hounds rode up, and he was a dashing hunter.
“Greetings Chieftain!” Pwll said, in hopes that his ruse had gone unseen.
“I will not greet you, though I know your name, for you have done me a great discourtesy today.”
“Discourtesy? Tell me what discourtesy I have done, that I might make it right.”
“You have removed my hounds from the stag so that you could bait your own upon it, and though I will not take vengeance, I will do you a dishonor equal to a hundred stags!”
“I would have your friendship and forgiveness, Chieftain, if you would allow me to make amends.”
“And how will you make amends?”
“According to your dignity, but I know not who you are.”
“I am Arawn, king of Annwn [the underworld].”
“Then tell me, Lord, how I might win your friendship.”
“There is a rival king in my land, Hafgan, who is forever warring against me. Defeat him, and you shall have my friendship.”
“This I will willingly do, if only you will give me guidance, and say how it may be accomplished.”
“You will go to Annwn in my stead, and I will give you my form and likeness, so that none of my men, nor even my wife shall know that you are not I. A year from tonight, there is a tryst between Hafgan and I at the ford, but you will go in my likeness. If you give him one blow it will lay him down, but do not for any reason give him another, no matter how he entreats you. For though I gave him many blows, he would always rise in the morning as strong as ever.”
“And what of my kingdom, while I am gone?”
“I will rule in your stead and in your likeness. Then, when the year is concluded and you have slain Hafgan, we will meet again here and each shall go back to his own kingdom.”
Then the two kings made a strong bond of friendship and swore to return to the same place in a year’s time. Arawn led Pwll on his way to Annwn, until the court and dwellings were in sight.
“The court and kingdom are in your power,” said Arawn. “Go now and make for the court. All will know you by my name, and I will go to Dyfed and rule there in your stead.” Then the kings parted ways, each with friendly words for the other.
Pwll went into Arawn’s court, and it was the largest and most lovely place he had ever seen. Chamberlains came to attend to him, and everyone knew him as their lord. They dressed him in silk and gold and led him to a high seat while the hall was made ready. The warriors that came to greet him were tall and bore weapons that shone like silver. The table was set with good food of every kind, and every hand held a jeweled goblet. When the Queen came to his side, he thought that she was the most lovely jewel, the greatest treasure in all of Annwn. She sat at his right hand, while a mighty lord sat on his left.
Pwll spent the evening in delightful conversation with the Queen, feasting and enjoying the good cheer of his hall. Of all the women he had met, he found the Queen of Annwn to be the most gracious in disposition and discourse. Pwll and all the lords and ladies of Annwn spent their time in song and carousal until it was time for sleep. Then he went to the bedchamber with the Queen, but would not speak a word with her and set his back to her when they lay together in bed. Every day he spent feasting, hunting, and carousing, and sweet to him was the company of his companions and of the Queen foremost. Yet every night he spent as the first: in silence and unto himself. In this wise he passed his time until the year had lapsed and the time of his tryst with Hafgan had arrived.
He met Hafgan at the ford and each king instructed their companions to stay back, for since the disagreement was between kings, between kings it would be fought. Alone Pwll advanced to the ford, and alone he faced Hafgan, the rival king of Annwn. At the outset of the combat, Pwll struck Hafgan a mighty blow on the shield’s boss, splitting the shield and rending the armor behind. Hafgan was thrown from his horse and as Pwll approached, he could see that Hafgan had a mortal wound upon him.
“What right had you to my death, Chieftain?” Hafgan said in a weak voice. “I have brought no claim against you, and I know no reason for you to slay me, but since you have begun my death, make an end.”
“Chieftain,” Pwll replied, “I repent of that which I have done to you. Seek someone else to slay you, for I will not.”
“Come, my companions, and bear me away for now my death is complete. I am in a state to maintain you no longer.”
“Nobles,” Pwll addressed the crowd, “take stock and determine who of you should be my vassals.”
“Lord,” they responded, “all men should submit to you, for you are king of all Annwn.”
Then they all did homage to the man in Arawn’s stead, and he subdued the land. Once his work was complete, Pwll journeyed back to Glyn Cuch and met Arawn at the place of their trysting. Each of them greeted the other in friendship.
“I have heard of the service you have done me and I thank you for it,” said Arawn. “When you return to your kingdom, you will see what I have done for you.”
“May God repay it to you.”
Then Arawn returned each to his rightful form and they parted ways, each to his own kingdom. When Arawn returned, he took his wife to bed and they indulged in loving pleasure and affection with one another. The Queen thought how different her husband was that night compared to the prior year, and Arawn noted her disposition.
“Why are you so quiet tonight, my love?”
“I spoken more in this bedchamber tonight than I have for a year, and neither have we had any delight in this bed for a year until tonight. Truly, you did not even turn your face toward me for all that time.”
Then Arawn knew how true of a friend he had made in Pwll, and he told the Queen of all that had happened. She too, agreed that Arawn had found a companion with a heart that was stout and full of virtue.
When Pwll came at last to his court in Dyfed, he asked his companions there how his behavior had been over the last year. They replied that he had never been so discerning, so generous, so loving, and so great a ruler as he had in the past year. Then Pwll shared with them the truth of what had happened, and they rejoiced that he had a man such as Arawn as a friend. So too they asked that he should not withhold the good rule that they had enjoyed for the last year, and Pwll agreed to continue in the same fashion. From that time forth, Pwll and Arawn were fast friends and often exchanged gifts that one thought the other might enjoy. Pwll was called the Head of Annwn from thereafter, in honor of his time in Annwn and his unification of the land.