A piece of string?
A royal ribbon?
A hair from the tail
of a horse of Annwn?
A chord from a guitar
or an Annuvian harp?
The slipstream of a comet
or the corpse of a fallen star?
An endless drinking horn?
The horned helmet
of the Bull of Battle?
The horns of the Devil?
Something more sinister?
Yes – indeed – she holds silence.
And, in the silence, she holds a heart –
the heart of the King of Annwn.
Let your soul rest
gently as a butterfly on my chest
One of my practices during the heat and noise of summer is journeying to the Otherworld, where Vindos / Gwyn sleeps as Winter King, and finding rest with Him in His tomb in the Castle of Cold Stone.
Beside the source of the brook in Greencroft Valley stand two black poplars. There aren’t any known British myths about black poplars but, in Greek myth, they are associated with Hades (the Underworld) and death.
In Homer’s Odyssey, poplars, described in different translations as ‘tall’ and ‘dusky’, so likely black, with willow, form Persephone’s Grove. Springs, throughout world myth, are seen as entrances to the Underworld.
In another story from ancient Greece, Phaethon, son of the sun God, Helios, drives his father’s chariot too close to the sun. His blazing end brings deep grief to his sisters, who are transformed into black poplar trees. The amber sap is said to be their tears. Thus its associations with death and sorrow.
In more recent folklore the red male catkins are referred to as ‘Devil’s Fingers.’
This leads me to believe that there might have once been parallel British myths about black poplar, connecting it with springs at the entrance to Annwn and with the groves of Annwn’s Queen. Perhaps there was once a story in which the red male catkins were the bloody fingers of Annwn’s King?
I will admit that I’m not sure if these trees are true black poplars (Populus nigra) or hybrids because black poplars are rare. Plus, I’m not referring to the true source of Fish House Brook but to the outflow pipe that the culverted brook emerges from. The original source would have lain further south, somewhere on Penwortham Moss, which has been drained and replaced by housing. The brook is culverted under the gardens on the other side of my street, Bank Parade, also giving its name to Burnside Way. I feel this relates to my founding of the Sanctuary of Vindos / Gwyn ap Nudd, a King of Annwn, very near to the ‘black poplars’ at the ‘source’.
In a shamanic journey I visited the poplars for advice on descending to the ancestors in preparation for some ancestral healing work. I was shown the left tree represented my mother line and the right my father line. I slid down the roots of the left into a cavern where a group of spirits were drinking from cups from the same source. I was told that on the new and full moons I must consecrate a cup of water and make an offering:
“To the Gods,
spirits and ancestors –
we all drink from the same source.”
I felt this related to keeping the source clean – something I have been trying to do as a volunteer in Greencroft Valley with the Friends group I set up (now part of Guardians of Nature).
I am writing this article for those who are new to the Sanctuary of Vindos and for those who have been following me for a while who might enjoy reading an article that brings together my research on Vindos / Gwyn in one place.
Vindos
Vindos is the reconstructed Proto-Celtic name of the medieval Welsh God, Gwyn ap Nudd, ‘White son of Mist’. It stems from the root *Windo ‘White’ (1). It is possible that Vindos was worshipped at Vindolanda ‘the Land of White Springs’ (a Roman auxiliary fort on Hadrian’s Wall) and, like His father, Nodens (2), more widely across Britain during the prehistoric and Romano-British periods.
From Gwyn’s role as a ruler of Annwn ‘Very Deep’ (the Brythonic Otherworld / Underworld) and gatherer of souls, we might derive that Vindos, too, ruled the chthonic regions and was associated with the dead.
It’s my personal intuition that the chalk God found at the bottom of a ritual shaft in Kent and recorded by Miranda Aldhouse Green might be Vindos:
‘At the bottom of this shaft… all some 2.5 metres deep, was an oval chamber containing a complete figurine, composed of a featureless block of dressed chalk from which rises a long, slender neck and a head with a well-carved, very Celtic face. This figure may have stood in a niche high up in one wall of the chamber… Pottery would indicate a first or second-century AD date’ (3).
It is possible that prehistoric burial monuments with stonework made from chalk and limestone, described by Rodney Castleden as ‘bone-white buildings… temple-tombs… sharply defined with deep boundaries and blinding chalk-domes visible for many miles,’ (4) were associated with Vindos.
Vindos might be equated with the Gaulish Vindonnus ‘Clear Light, White’. According to James McKillop, Vindonnus was worshipped at ‘a site coextensive with Essarois in Burgundy, eastern France. Bronze plaques nearby depicting eyes suggest he was attributed curing powers for eye diseases’ (5).
It is likely that the coming of Christianity played a role in expunging the evidence for veneration of Vindos on the basis of His associations with the Underworld and death. Luckily, as Gwyn, His stories lived on in medieval Wales.
Bull of Battle – Warrior-Protector and Psychopomp
Gwyn’s clearest representation comes from a medieval Welsh poem called ‘The Conversation of Gwyn ap Nudd and Gwyddno Garanhir’ from The Black Book of Carmarthen (1250). Herein Gwyn and Gwyddno (6) converse at an undisclosed location. I believe the poem implicitly suggests that Gwyddno is dead and Gwyn has appeared to guide his soul to Annwn. This is also the interpretation of translator, Greg Hill, whose translation I have used below (7).
In this poem, Gwyn is addressed with deep reverence and respect by Gwyddno as a ‘fierce bull of battle’, ‘leader of many’, and ‘lord of hosts’. This fits with Gwyn’s name not only meaning ‘White’ but ‘Blessed’ and ‘Holy’. Gwyddno petitions Gwyn for protection, and Gwyn replies that from Him, an ‘invincible lord’ (hinting at His divine status), ‘He who asks shall have protection’. As a ‘bull of battle’, Gwyn is a warrior-protector.
At first, Gwyddno does not recognise Gwyn and thus asks what land He comes from. Gwyn replies: ‘I come from many battles, many deaths’. These words are suggestive of His role as psychopomp gathering the souls of the battle-dead. Only when Gwyddno asks Gwyn of His descent does He reveal His identity: ‘My horse is Carngrwn from battle throng / so I am called Gwyn ap Nudd / the lover of Creiddylad, daughter of Lludd.’ There is a sense here that it is only when Gwyddno recognises Gwyn that he realises that he is dead. ‘I will not hide from you.’ He realises he cannot hide either from Gwyn or the truth that he is deceased and states his own name, ‘I am Gwyddno Garanhir.’
Gwyn is then drawn away by His restless horse and red-nosed hound, Dormach, who is wandering away across the firmament, to further battles. Before He departs, He recites a series of verses recording the names of a number of famous warriors, mainly from Yr Hen Ogledd ‘the Old North’ (8), whose souls He has gathered from the battlefield. He then ends by speaking two of the most haunting verses in medieval Welsh literature.
‘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.’
Here, Gwyn laments His role as an undying God fated to witness the deaths of his people and gather their souls until (as we shall soon see) the end of the world.
Leader of the ‘Demons’ of Annwn and the Wild Hunt
In Culhwch and Olwen (1100), Gwyn is contrastingly represented as a sinister figure. Herein we find the lines, ‘Twrch Trwyth will not be hunted until Gwyn son of Nudd is found – 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).
These lines, penned by a Christian scribe, allude to Gwyn’s rulership of the spirits of Annwn. They suggest that Gwyn contains the aryal ‘spirit’ or ‘fury’ of beings seen as demons by the church both within His realm and within His person. Paradoxically, it is only because Gwyn partakes in their nature that He can hold them back in order to prevent them from destroying the world.
The lines about the hunt for Twrch Trwyth ‘Chief of Boars’ also contain darker allusions. The Twrch is not just any old boar but a human chieftain who was supposedly turned into a boar by God on account of his sins (10). That Twrch Trwyth is a human shows this is not a boar hunt but a hunt for human souls. That it cannot begin until Gwyn is found demonstrates He is the leader of the Brythonic variant of the Wild Hunt (which occurs across Europe).
Gwyn’s leadership of the Wild Hunt is further evidenced in the works of John Rhys. He refers to Iolo ap Huw, Gwyn’s chief huntsman, ‘cheering cwn Annwn over Cadair Idris’ every Nos Galan Gaeaf / Halloween (11). Rhys also refers to a horned figure with a black face, likely Gwyn, with the cwn Annwn ‘Hounds of the Otherworld’ hunting down a sinner ‘across Cefn Creini’ (12). As a devilish huntsman with His hounds and demonic followers He rides out through the winter months to hunt down not only the dead but living sinners.
Gwyn’s associations with winter and destruction are also hinted at in Culhwch and Olwen. Creiddylad, His sister, goes off with Gwythyr ap Greidol ‘Victor son of Scorcher’ but before He can sleep with Her, Gwyn takes Her by force (presumably to Annwn). Gwythyr gathers an army, attacks Gwyn, fails and is imprisoned. During their period of imprisonment, Gwyn kills the northern king, Nwython, cuts out his heart and feeds it to his son, Cyledyr, who goes mad. Arthur is brought in to intervene, calling Gwyn to him and determining that from thereon Gwyn and Gwythyr will battle for Creiddylad every May Day until Judgement Day and only then one may take her (13).
This Christianised episode is likely based on a pre-Christian seasonal myth wherein Gwyn, a Brythonic Winter King, takes Creiddylad, a Goddess of fertility and sovereignty, to Annwn for the duration of the winter months. On May Day, Gwythyr, a Brythonic Summer King, wins Her back for the summer.
Arthur’s intervention is employed to show the Christian warlord’s power over Gwyn. Throughout the tale, Arthur is demonstrated to have power over giants, witches, and magical white animals who are associated with Annwn.
In another episode, Gwyn and Gwythyr accompany Arthur to slay Orddu, ‘Very Black’, a witch who lives in Pennant Gofid ‘the Valley of Grief’, ‘in the uplands of Hell’ (14). Gwyn attempts to stop Arthur from attacking Orddu to no avail, and Arthur cuts her in half and drains her blood. It is likely that Orddu was a ‘witch of Annwn’ (15) who worked magic with Gwyn and His spirits.
Again, Arthur is shown to have power over Gwyn and His followers. Ultimately, Arthur usurps the hunt for Twrch Trwyth, seizing Gwyn’s role and replacing Him as warrior-protector of the Island of Britain. Yet, in the story and now, Arthur fails to hold back the forces who threaten to destroy the world. It is only Gwyn who can contain the furious spirits, who number the spirits of Annwn and the dead, until the world’s end.
King of Annwn and the Fairies
In The Life of St Collen (1550), Gwyn is described as ‘King of Annwn and of the fairies’, and He and His people are once again derided as ‘devils’. Gwyn summons Collen to His fair castle, which is described as being filled with ‘appointed troops, ‘minstrels’, ‘steeds with youths upon them’, and comely maidens. There, from his seat upon a golden chair, Gwyn invites Collen to feast upon His bountiful feast of delicacies, dainties, drinks, and liquors. Collen refuses, saying he will not ‘eat the leaves of trees’, suggesting the food is an illusory conjuration. He then says the red and blue clothing of Gwyn’s people signifies ‘burning’ and ‘coldness’ (it is hellish). Finally, he throws holy water over the heads of Gwyn and His people, and they vanish (16). Once again, we find a legend showing the power of a Christian over Gwyn.
The description of Gwyn’s castle is similar to the fortress of the King of Annwn / Faerie in other sources. In ‘The Spoils of Annwn’, we find seven fortresses, which I believe to be fragmented appearances of the same fort. This fortress, as Caer Wydyr ‘the Glass Fort’, is made of glass. As Caer Siddi ‘the Fairy Fort’, it contains the treasures of Annwn, and above it is a fountain that pours a drink sweeter than wine. As Caer Wedwit ‘the Mead Feast Fort’, it holds the ‘cauldron of the Head of Annwn’, which is ‘kindled by the breath of nine maidens’ and will not boil food for a coward (suggesting an initiatory function). Again, Arthur assaults Annwn and its people, stealing the spoils (17).
In spite of Christian intervention, Gwyn and the spirits of Annwn live on as Y Tylwyth Teg ‘the Fair Family’ in later folk and fairylore. Like the Greek Furies, who are referred to as the Eumenides ‘Kindly Ones’ or ‘Benevolent Ones’ (with whom They are equated), this is likely a euphemism used to conceal Their contrary nature. They continue to steal or entice people to Their realm; curing, cursing, driving to madness, turning space and time and lives around.
Protector of the Sanctuary
Gwyn is a paradoxical God. On the one side, dark and furious. On the other, blessed and holy. Only because He is both can He offer protection and healing.
In The Speculum Christiani, Gwyn is invoked to heal the evil eye. ‘Some stupid people also go stupidly to the door holding fire and iron in their hands when someone has inflicted illness, and call to the King of the Benevolent Ones and his Queen, who are evil spirits, saying: ‘Gwyn ap Nudd, who are far in the forests for the love of your mate, allow us to come home’ (18).
This might be seen to relate to the ability of Vindonnus to cure eye ailments. The father of Vindos / Gwyn, Nodens, was a God of healing dreams. Thus, it makes sense that Gwyn is not only a God of death and destruction, but of healing.
In my experience, Gwyn is a powerful God of transformation who invites us to put to death the parts of ourselves we no longer need to become more whole.
“You who ask shall have protection,” He speaks. “I shall help you to come home.”
~
Footnotes and References
(1) Proto-Celtic – English https://web.archive.org/web/20060114133008/http://www.wales.ac.uk/documents/external/cawcs/pcl-moe.pdf
(2) Nodens, ‘the Catcher’, later known as Nudd or Lludd Llaw Eraint ‘Mist Silver-Arm’, was venerated at Lydney ‘Lludd’s Isle’ and two silver Romano-British statuettes dedicated to Him as Mars-Nodontis were found on Cockersand Moss in my home county of Lancashire.
(3) Aldhouse-Green, M., The Gods of the Celts, (1986, Sutton Publishing), p134
(4) Castleden, R., Britain in 3000 BC (Sutton Publishing, 2003), p90-91
(5) McKillop, J., Dictionary of Celtic Mythology, (Oxford University Press, 1998)
(6) Gwyddno Garanhir ‘the Knowing One with Crane-Legs’ is a legendary figure most famously associated with Cantre’r Gwaelod, ‘the Lowland Hundred’, a sunken land off the coast of Wales extending from Borth Beach (Porth Wyddno). He also had a port in the North and his hamper is listed in ‘The Thirteen Treasures of the Island of Britain’ which were in the North.
(7) https://awenydd.weebly.com/the-conversation-between-gwyn-ap-nudd-and-gwyddno-garanhir.html
(8) This name refers to the post-Roman Brythonic kingdoms of northern England and southern Scotland, which eventually fell to the Anglo-Saxons.
(9) Davies, S. (transl.), The Mabinogion, (Oxford University Press, 2007), p. 199
(10) Ibid., p. 209
(11) Rhys, J., Celtic Folklore, Welsh and Manx, (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1901), p. 180-181
(12) Ibid., p. 281
(13) Davies, S. (transl.), The Mabinogion, (Oxford University Press, 2007), p. 207
(14) Ibid., p. 212
(15) Dafydd ap Gwilym refers to ‘witches of Annwn’ in his poem ‘The Mist’. Browich, R., (ed.), Dafydd ap Gwilym Poems, (Gomer Press, 1982), p. 134
(16) https://www.maryjones.us/ctexts/collen.html
(17) Haycock, M., Legendary Poems from the Book of Taliesin, (CMCS, 2015), p. 435-438
(18) Roberts, B.F., ‘Gwyn ap Nudd’, Llên Cymru, XIII (Jonor-Gorffennaf, 1980-1), pp.283-9.
My article ‘The Gods and Spirits of Annwn’ has recently been published in Sacred Hoop – ‘a leading international magazine about Shamanism, Sacred Wisdom and Earth Spirituality.’
You can purchase a copy HERE.
‘He becomes intent to roll out the entire splendour of the Universe that is contained in His heart…’
~ Swami Maheshwarananda
When I first started practicing yoga in 2022 in the hope it would help with my hip and knee problems I had no idea that I would fall in love not only with the asana ‘postures’ but with pranayama ‘breathwork’ and dhayana ‘meditation’. I never guessed that I would find such astonishing parallels between the Hindu God Shiva, ‘Lord of Yoga’, and my patron God, Gwyn ap Nudd, who presented Himself to me as our Brythonic ‘Master of Meditation’. Both, I realised, come from a shared Indo-European origin.
I found similarities exist between Shiva and Gwyn on a symbolic level. Both are associated with bulls and serpents and with intuitive insight and visionary experience. Shiva’s often seen as a destroyer and Gwyn has destructive potency as a leader of the Wild Hunt and the God who holds back the fury of the ‘devils’ of Annwn in order to prevent their destruction of the world.
There’s a story about Shiva riding down the mountain to His wedding feast on a huge bull ‘covered in snakes and ash’ ‘with ghosts and demons’ ‘some had their mouths in their stomachs, some had only one foot and some had three’. Yet when He and His company ‘crossed the wedding portals’ and entered the presence of His bride, Shakti, they were transfigured into ‘a handsome young man’ and ‘divine beings’ (1). This spoke immediately to me of the paradoxical nature of Gwyn and the spirits of Annwn who are referred to both as furious ‘devils’ and as beautiful and beneficent fair folk.
Whilst studying yogic meditation in more depth with the Mandala Yoga Ashram I discovered an incredible text called the Vigyana Bhairava Tantra from the Kasmir Shaivite tradition.The ashram founder, Swami Nischalanda, refers to it as his Bible and many of the practices within the ashram derive from it. Over recent months I have taken a short course (2) and read Swamiji’s exposition of it in Insight Into Reality from which I gleaned many insights.
Bhairava ‘Fearsome’ or ‘Awe-Inspiring’ is another name for Shiva which evokes qualities of Gwyn, whilst vigyana means ‘insight’ and tantra ‘techniques’. The text is also known as Shiva Vigyana Upanishad ‘The Secret Teachings of Shiva’. Within, Bhairava addresses His consort, Bhairavi as His Beloved and student, teaching Her in 112 dharanas ‘concentrations / lessons’ how to gain insights into the fundamental nature of reality. As I’ve been listening to and practicing the dharanas I have felt that Gwyn is speaking through it to me as His student and beloved as a nun of Annwn.
In The Edge of Infinity Swami Nischalananda provides an account of the history of Kashmir Shaivism. He says: ‘In the past, tantra was widely known as Shaivism, ‘the Path of Evoking Shiva’, a system of mysticism rooted in indigenous shamanism. It existed throughout India well before 1500 CE, the start of the vedic period’ (3). Tantra, as an oral tradition, predates the Vedic texts, with its first scriptures emerging in the first millenium CE. Kashmir Shaivism originated in 850 CE with one of the main texts being the Shiva Sutras which were gifted to Vasugupta by Shiva in a dream. The Vigyana Bhairava Tantra is central and was written down around 7 – 800CE.
I was incredibly excited to find out that a number of texts, such as Pratyabhijna Hridayam ‘The Heart of Recognition’ and The Triadic Heart of Shiva, refer to the universe unfolding from Shiva’s heart and to His residence in the heart.
‘When He becomes intent to roll out the entire splendour of the Universe that is contained in His heart… he is designated as Sakti.’ (4)
‘The Heart, says Abhinavagupta, is the very Self of Siva, of Bhairava, and of the Devi, the Goddess who is inseparable from Siva. Indeed, the Heart is the site of their union (yamala), of their embrace (samghata). This abode is pure consciousness (caitanya) as well as unlimited bliss (ananda)… The Heart, says Abhinavagupta, is the sacred fire-pit of Bhairava. The Heart is the Ultimate (anuttara) which is both utterly transcendent to (visvottirna) and yet totally immanent in (visvamaya) all created things. It is the ultimate essence (sãra). Thus, the Heart embodies the paradoxical nature of Siva and is therefore a place of astonishment (camatkara), sheer wonder (vismaya), and ineffable mystery. The Heart is the fullness and unboundedness of Siva (purnata), the plenum of being that overflows continuously into manifestation. At the same time, it is also an inconceivable emptiness (sunyatisunya). The Heart is the unbounded and universal Self (purnahantä).’ (5)
‘He, truly, indeed, is the Self (atman) within the heart, very subtle, kindled like fire, assuming all forms. This whole world is his food. On Him creatures here are woven. He is the Self, which is free from evil, ageless, deathless, sorrowless, free from uncertainty, free from fetters, whose conception is real, whose desire is real. He is the Supreme Lord. He is the ruler of beings. He is the protector of beings. This Soul, assuredly, indeed, is Isana, Sambhu, Bhava, Rudra.’ (6) (The names at the end are all epithets of Shiva).
Reading these words was meaningful for me because Gwyn revealed to me that His heart is the Heart of Annwn ‘Very Deep’ (the Brythonic Otherworld). During my practice of playing the heartbeat of Annwn on my drum for an hour every week I have experienced visions of the universe and its people being born from Annwn like red blood pouring from His heart and returning at death like blue blood. When we entered a sacred marriage He came to dwell within my heart as ‘the Heart of my Heart’. I was told that my heart is also the Heart of Annwn and the universe unrolls from my heart (which fits with the practices emphasising the importance of the heart-space in yoga).
As I read more about Kashmir Shaivism I found further similarities with the cosmology I have been gifted in visions from Gwyn. In Kashmir Shaivism the fundamental ground of reality is Brahman or Parama ‘Ultimate’ Shiva. In mythology it is represented as the serpent-king Nagaraja ‘the infinite… who spreads out the universe with thousands of hooded heads, set with blazing, effulgent jewels’ (7). Before I had read these lines I was shown that the ground of reality is Anrhuna, the Mother of Annwn, the Dragon Mother, who has nine dragon heads with jewels in their foreheads and an infinite number of coils.
In a vision I was shown how Anrhuna was slaughtered and Gwyn and His sister, Creiddylad, were torn from Her womb. Through eating His mother’s heart Gwyn inherited the Heart of Annwn and became King of Annwn (8). Creiddylad brought life to the world as the energy behind creation – the ‘green fuse’ of vegetative life and by breathing life into living creatures.
This bears a resemblance with Kashmir Shaivism wherein Brahman divides into Shiva (Consciousness) and Shakti (energy and matter). There are parallels between the Heart of Annwn being the source of the universe from which all living beings are born and to which they return and the Heart of Shiva being the source of all energy and matter manifesting as Shakti.
Intriguingly, the first three dharanas in the Vigyana Bhairava Tantra focus on the origin and end points of the breath. When I practice these exercises I find myself contemplating how Creiddylad gave breath to life and Gwyn takes it away.
Finding these similarities between Kashmir Shaivism and the Annuvian monasticism I am developing for Gwyn has been revealing and exciting. I’m sure there is much more to be discovered as I continue with my research and practices.
REFERENCES
(1) Swami Nischalananda, Insight into Reality, (Kindle Edition, 2019), p393
(2) https://www.mandalayogaashram.com/self-study-course-vigyana-bhairava-tantra
(3) Swami Nischalananda, Insight into Reality, (Kindle Edition, 2019), p387
(4) Jaideva Singh, Pratyabhijna Hridayam, (Sundar Lal Jain, 1963), p30
(5) Paul Eduardo Muller-Ortega, The Triadic Heart of Siva, (State University of New York Press), p71
(6) Ibid. p82
(7) Richard Freeman, The Mirror of Yoga: Awakening the Intelligence of Body and Mind, (Kindle Edition, 2019) p19
(8) This story has a basis in medieval Welsh mythology. In Culhwch and Olwen, Gwyn kills a king called Nwython then feeds his heart to his son. I believe this might evidence an earlier ‘Cult of the Heart’ that preceded the ‘Cult of the Head’ wherein the soul was seen to dwell in the heart and the wisdom of one’s ancestors could be passed on by eating their hearts.
‘I’m splendid of fame: songs are heard
in the four quarters of the fort, island of the strong door.
Fresh water and jet are mixed together;
sparkling wine is their drink, set in front of their battalion.
Three full loads of Prydwen we went by sea:
save seven, none came back from Caer Rigor.’
~ The Spoils of Annwn
It’s the middle of summer. We set sail for Caer Rigor beyond the ninth wave and further on to where all waves freeze beneath the turning of the frosty gulls.
There is no fortress in Thisworld or the Otherworld colder than Caer Rigor. It wears its icicles like the Winter King’s crown upside down when he was cast down. There are frozen birds upon the turrets with songs frozen on their tongues.
The gate of the fortress is frosted shut like the cold lips of the gatekeeper.
Down from a tower swoops a messenger on wide white wings like an albatross. He pours water over jet mixing them together. Whoosh! A rush of flames, like from a flamethrower, burning in a multitude of colours, like a flambeau.
Ice drips from the gate and hinges open like the gatekeeper’s jaw. The giant stares and unclenches his fist but halts not our passage as we enter the frozen corridors of Caer Rigor and are taken to stand before the Strong Door.
“The door to this hall has not been opened for 1500 years,” the messenger speaks solemnly, “the men inside have known not death, nor decay, nor old age.”
He holds the jet-flame to the door and the icy seal around it melts. Inside is a battalion of frozen men, not the seven survivors, no, these are dead men. Young, pitifully young hopefuls who accompanied Arthur on his fateful voyage.
There is wine, sparkling wine, in their cups, they wear the faces of happy drunks. Yet, as the door opens, as the ice begins to thaw, they set down their glasses and the pain of memory appears in their eyes with the onset of sobriety as fire and ice, jet and water mix, fiercely coloured and hallucinatory.
“Where are we?” “Thisworld or the Otherworld?” “Are we alive or are we dead?” “Are we burning or are we freezing?” “Is this reward or punishment?”
“All I remember is the flash of Llenlleog’s sword as it was thrust into the cauldron.”
“Blinding!” “The explosion.” “It blinded us.” “Yet we can see.”
“I remember the cauldron, tiny, in Lleog’s hand.”
“Nonsense – that was just an illusion – the cauldron cannot be stolen.”
“Arthur cut off His head! The head of the Head of Annwn.”
“And it sung to us for nights in this feasting hall.”
“The Head of Annwn sung of cutting off Arthur’s head and how it was deaf and dumb.”
“What will become of us now?” “How can we return to the cauldron if it is gone?”
“I told you it was all an illusion,” speaks the youngest of the men.
“You’re no longer trapped in that old myth,” the messenger tells them.
“That old myth is done,” I am inspired to speak up, “we come as new monastic devotees of the Head of Annwn to set you free from Arthur’s rule. When this castle has thawed to the cauldron you will return to be reborn.”
They raise their cups and embrace – fire and ice, jet and water mix fierce and hallucinatory as from the turrets the birds fly free and burst into song.
~
This piece is based on my experiences during our Monastery of Annwn Brythonic texts meditation group last night. Caer Rigor has been translated as ‘the Petrification Fort’ from the Latin rigor from ‘stiffness’ and also contains connotations of ‘cold’ from frigor. The citation above is from Marged Haycock but replaces her translation of ynys pybrydor as ‘stout defence of the island’ with the more popular translation ‘island of the strong door’. This allows it to be related to the Second Branch of The Mabinogion wherein the seven survivors of the battle between the Britons and the Irish feast and drink blissfully on the Island of Gwales with the head of Bran the Blessed until one of the men, Heilyn, opens the door, and all their losses and ills return.
‘My first utterance was spoken concerning the cauldron
kindled by the breath of nine maidens.
The cauldron of the Head of Annwn, what is its disposition
(with its) a dark trim, and pearls?
It does not boil the food of a coward, it has not been destined to do so.’
~ ‘The Spoils of Annwn’
In ‘The Spoils of Annwn’, a medieval Welsh poem from The Book of Taliesin, we find mysterious lines about the breath of nine maidens kindling the cauldron of the Head of Annwn. The cauldron, the source of awen, ‘poetic inspiration’, is a central symbol within Celtic mythology.
In ‘The Story of Taliesin’ the cauldron belongs to Ceridwen. In this tale Ceridwen is referred to as a witch but it’s my intuition She is a Goddess whose crochan – cauldron / womb is a sacred vessel of rebirth (1). In Her cauldron she brews a potion from 365 herbs (one picked on each day of the year) to provide her ugly son, Afagddu ‘Utter Darkness’ with the ‘Prophetic Spirit’. She assigns a blind man called Morda to bring kindling for the cauldron and to stir the cauldron she summons a boy called Gwion. After a year and a day Gwion shoves Afagddu out of the way and steals the awen. After a shapeshifting chase he is swallowed by Ceridwen (he as a grain and She as a black hen) then reborn from her womb as Taliesin.
In ‘The Spoils of Annwn’ the model is slightly different. The cauldron of Ceridwen, the magical vessel associated with inspiration and rebirth, is in the custodianship of the Head of Annwn – the ruler of the Brythonic Otherworld. Here there is no need for kindling or a person to stir the cauldron as the breath of the nine maidens is enough to set the processes within it into motion. The ‘food’ ‘not for a coward’ that it brews no doubt refers to the awen. Taliesin accompanies Arthur and his men not only to steal the awen, but the cauldron itself, bringing it back through ‘Hell’s Gate’ to the world.
This shows that when a potential awenydd, ‘person inspired’, proves their courage to the Head of Annwn, the breath of the nine maidens or awenau, ‘muses’ (2), kindles the cauldron, then the awen is received as a gift from the Gods.
This feels like an older and deeper model for the origins of awen. The significance of the breath of the nine maidens can be further elucidated by looking at the etymology. The medieval Welsh term used for breath is anadyl and this derives from the proto-Celtic anatla which shares a resemblance with anaman the proto-Celtic word for ‘soul’. The Indo-European *uel is closely related giving us the root form of awel ‘breeze’ and awen ‘inspiration’. There seems to be something fundamental this myth is telling us about how, in Annwn, on the soul-level, the breath of the nine maidens kindles the cauldron and sets in motion the processes within the cauldron that create the awen.
It’s my personal intuition that the cauldron / womb of Ceridwen, who I know as Old Mother Universe, is a macrocosm of the universe. That it lies in Annwn ‘Very Deep’ shows the Otherworld is a deeper reality underlying the universe.
On a microcosmic level each awenydd might too be seen as a cauldron which is kindled by the breath of the nine maidens producing awen for poetic works. The breath itself might be seen as a gift from the awenau.
Microcosm within microcosm a number of Celtic Pagans have come to relate the three cauldrons in the seventh century Irish text ‘The Cauldron of Poesy’ to the three main energy centres or chakras in our belly, heart and head (3). Interestingly the Irish term coire ‘cauldron’ or ‘whirlpool’ might be seen to relate to the spiralling manifestation of the universe and the turning of the chakras.
In yogic meditation the breath is used to awaken the chakras. I was once dubious about the existence of ‘Celtic Chakras’ but I am now coming to perceive the resonsances between these shared Indo-European traditions. I wonder whether anatla ‘breath’ is the Celtic equivalent of the yogic prana ‘breath’ or ‘life force’ which Celtic Pagans have long been searching for (4).
(1)These insights derive from Kristoffer Hughes’ From the Cauldron Born.
(2)This term is borrowed from Greg Hill who uses it in his poem ‘The Muses’ in his poetry collection The Birds of Rhiannon – ‘O Muses / O Awenau / You whose breath kindled the cauldron of awen in Ceridwen’s keeping.’
(3) For example see Erynn Rowan Laurie’s ‘The Cauldron of Poesy’ – https://www.obsidianmagazine.com/Pages/cauldronpoesy.html
(4) Some druids have in the past mistakenly identified prana with nwyfre ‘sky, firmament’ which Mhara Starling explains is erroneous on her Youtube channel – https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCkc4iRymvz4t619FEk5dFfA/videos Interestingly the proto-Celtic anatla ‘breath’and anaman ‘soul’ share similarities with the Sanksrit atman which is sometimes translated as ‘soul’ but refers to the Self or witness-consciousness beyond phenomena and ananda which refers to bliss at escaping the cycle of mortality or uniting with a God.
One of the main types of evidence for shamanic beliefs in Britain is burials with gravegoods. The fact that the ancient Britons buried their dead with accompaniments is suggestive of the belief they took their belongings with them into an Otherworld which was seen to be very much like Thisworld.
The earliest is the so-called Paviland Red Lady (who was actually a male warrior). His bones were stained with red ochre and he was laid out with ivory rods and sea shells. Later burials in burial mounds have been found accompanied with weapons, jewellery, cauldrons and eating and drinking vessels, games, chariots and horses.
Another type of evidence is ritual depositions in liminal places which provided access to the Otherworld. Many of these are watery – we find weaponry such as swords and spearheads deposited in lakes, rivers, springs, pools and bogs. Deposits were also made in places leading underground such as caves, crevices and beneath the roots of trees (such as bog oaks here in Lancashire). Ritual pits and shafts were also dug purposefully for depositions of coins and pottery. This demonstrates the Britons had a reciprocal relationship with the spirits of the Otherworld.
Wooden idols which might represent threshold guardians who oversaw the boundaries between the worlds have been found across Britain. These include the Ballachullish Goddess, the Kingsteignton Idol, the Dagenham Idol and the Somerset God Dolly. The Roos Carr Figures, eight wooden warriors with quartzite eyes and removable phalluses and their serpent-headed boats may have been modelled on mythic figures who made voyages to the spiritual reality.
In Deal, Kent, a remarkable chalk figurine was found in a chamber at the bottom of a ritual shaft suggesting communion with an Otherworld Deity.
At Starr Carr, in North Yorkshire, 21 antlered frontlets dating to around 9,000 years ago were found. It has been suggested they were used in a shamanic ceremony to bring luck in the hunt before being deposited as offerings to the deer spirits.
Across the world cave art is cited as evidence of shamanic experiences. Here in Britain our oldest example is from Cresswell Crags, dating back to 13,000 – 11,000 years ago with carvings of a deer, a bison, a horse and birds and bird-headed figures.
Writing at the time of the Roman Invasions (we have no written evidence from the Britons themselves because they wrote nothing down), Julius Caesar, said the Gauls, whose traditions derived from Britain, believed ‘the soul does not die but crosses over after death from one place to another.’
We find a possible reference to a native British shamanic tradition that survived into the 1100s in the writings of Gerald of Wales. He records the existence of ‘soothsayers’ known as awenyddion, ‘persons inspired’ who are possessed by ‘ignorant spirits’ or ‘demons’ and who speak in ‘nugatory’ ‘incoherent’ language (ie. the language of prophecy as they give voice to the spirits of the Otherworld).
In medieval Welsh literature we discover the name of the British Otherworld, Annwn, from An ‘very’ and dwfn ‘deep’, again suggesting it lies underground. There are many stories about human interactions with Annwn and its spirits and Deities. In The Mabinogion, Pwyll, Prince of Dyfed mistakenly allows his hounds to feast on a stag which has been killed by the hounds of Arawn, a King of Annwn. To make up for his misdeed he takes Arawn’s place in Annwn for a year and a wins his battle against his rival, Hafgan, and wins Arawn’s favour. Someone who does not behave so respectfully is King Arthur. In ‘The Spoils of Annwn’ he voyages to the Otherworld, steals its magical animals and treasures, including the King of Annwn’s cauldron, and kills the cauldron keeper and, potentially, the King of Annwn himself. Annwn was later known as Faery and we have many stories from the Victorian times until now of sightings of the fairies and people lured into their dances and into their realm.
Within the Welsh bardic tradition, Taliesin, a shapeshifting bard is viewed to have shamanic qualities. Bards to this day channel the spirit of Taliesin and his forebears.
The British witchcraft tradition is also deeply shamanic with its records of spirit flights and pacts and relationships with familiar spirits (although some stories were projected on women, often Catholics, who did not participate in such practices.)
Sadly, within the shamanic communities here in Britain, much of this evidence remains little known and explored and it is more common for people to look to other traditions, going abroad to take ayhuasca, or looking to the indigenous shamanic cultures of other lands, rather than exploring the lands and lore that are on our doorstep.
*Antlered frontlet courtesy of Wikipedia Commons.
A Prayer of Adoration for Gwyn
Oh Sleeper in Deep Annwn
I adore Your sacrifice
Oh Sleeper in Deep Annwn
I adore Your death
Oh Sleeper in Deep Annwn
I adore Your revival
Oh Sleeper in Deep Annwn
I adore Your breath
Oh Sleeper in Deep Annwn
I adore Your heartbeat
Oh Sleeper in Deep Annwn
I adore Your pulse
Oh Sleeper in Deep Annwn
I adore Your silence
Oh Sleeper in Deep Annwn
I adore Your lying still
Oh Sleeper in Deep Annwn
I adore Your dreaming
Oh Sleeper in Deep Annwn
I adore Your white wolf
Oh Sleeper in Deep Annwn
I adore Your imaginings
Oh Sleeper in Deep Annwn
I adore Your wandering soul
Oh Sleeper in Deep Annwn
I adore Your waiting
Oh Sleeper in Deep Annwn
I know You will return
Oh Sleeper in Deep Annwn
I sit in silence and listen
Oh Sleeper in Deep Annwn
I sit, I wait, I yearn
This prayer of adoration for Gwyn ap Nudd was written to bring more adoring / praising into my prayer practice which veered more towards petition. In the myth I live by after His defeat by Gwythyr on Calan Mai (May Day) Gwyn sleeps in His Castle of Cold Stone until Mis Medi (September – the Reaping Month).