British folktales

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Ghostlore: The White Lady of Blenkinsopp Castle Legend

White Lady Ghost (1)

Ghostlore

In ghostlore, the supernatural phenomenon known as the “White Lady” is a type of unquiet female spirit, or ghost, usually appearing wearing a long white dress. Reports of White Lady ghosts appear in many countries around the world. Although her complexion is usually pale, her ethnicity can be seen in her facial features and is usually that of the region she appears in, or the place of her birth. As well as their complexions and way they dress they share several other commonalities. For example, she is are often portrayed as victims of betrayal in love by a husband or fiancé, or unrequited love, and suffered a tragic, or accidental death, murder, or suicide. In addition, she is often a lady of high status who has suffered an injustice or loss and is sometimes associated with hidden or buried treasure, or some great secret that prevents her from resting in peace. Finally, she sometimes appear as a harbinger of doom before the death of a family member.

Blenkinsopp Castle, Northumberland, England is reputed to be haunted by a White Lady Ghost, who is associated with a legend of a large chest of gold of substantial value hidden somewhere in the lower rooms or grounds of the castle. According to this legend, it was hidden in a time of trouble by a lady of the castle. After her death, her unquiet spirit appeared, some say to guard the treasure, while others say she was trying to reveal its hiding place. What was agreed was that the Lady was always clad entirely in a long white flowing gown, and for this, became known as the “White Lady of Blenkinsopp Castle.”

The White Lady of Blenkinsopp Castle

However, over the last two centuries, there have been no further reported incidents, but ghastly stories of her remain part of the local folklore. Even during the time of her last appearance, many parts of the castle had long been in a dilapidated condition. Yet, a few habitable parts remained occupied by a farmer worker, known locally as a hind, and a few other estate employees until around 1820, about the time of the last sighting. 

In this legend, the hind and his wife had an eight-year-old son who slept in an adjoining room to theirs. One night they were awakened by a series of long terrifying screams from their son. Rushing to investigate, they discovered him sitting in bed, covered in sweat, pale and trembling with a look of terror on his face.

“She is here! She is here! The White Lady! The White Lady, she is here!” he shrieked, panic-stricken.

“There is no White Lady; there is nothing to fear! We are here now and will keep you safe,” replied his mother calmly.

"Oh, thank goodness! I am glad she has gone. She was angry at me because I would not go with her. She was elegant and beautiful but so very sad. She to me came and sat on my bed and cried and cried, all the time wringing her hands, tears rolling down her face. I tried to think of something to say to comfort her, but could think of nothing, and then she kissed me!

She kissed me once more and asked me to go with her, promising she would make me a wealthy man when I grew up. She told me she knew where a secret treasure chest of gold had been buried in the castle hundreds of years ago, and promised if I went with her, she would give it to me. She said that her soul could never rest in peace while it was there. I told her I could not go with her - dare not go with her!

She became angry, saying she would carry me away if I refused, put her arms around me, and began lifting me. That is when I began screaming and frightened her away."

Last Sighting

His parents were down-to-earth people and concluded their child had been dreaming. Nevertheless, it took much soothing and their continued presence by his side before he would go back to sleep. Thankfully, in the morning he awoke none the worse from his experience, and they thought it all no more than a childish nightmare. However, that night the boy again woke up screaming about the White Lady, and the same thing happened again the following night. Each time they ran to his bed and found him sat up pale and shaking, crying about the White Lady who had come to carry him away and telling the same story. The following night they decided he should sleep with them in their bedroom, and his nightmare of the White Lady, if nightmare it was, did not return.

The experience had severely affected their son. He had once been an open and energetic boy who had loved to explore and play around the ruins of the castle and its grounds. Now he had become shrinking and fearful, avoiding his old playground even in daylight, always needing the reassuring presence of one of his parents. Rather than a nightmare the incident is considered the last reported sighting of the ghostly White Lady.

A Dream Of Treasure

Another legend of a White Lady of Blenkinsopp Castle is told in the nearby village of Greenhead, though whether it is the same unquiet spirit as the one above is unknown. The story goes that one day a lady arrived and took residence at the local inn. She had confided to the lady proprietor of the inn that her visit was because of a recurring dream she had experienced on three consecutive nights. In her dream, she had discovered hidden away among the ruins of Blenkinsopp Castle, a secret vault containing a great chest full of treasure. Her dream was so lucid and realistic that she believed it was her destiny to find it.

She had wanted permission from the landowner to search the ruins and grounds, but he was abroad at the time of her stay, which forced her to await his return for several weeks. Finally, however, it seems she lost patience, or he refused and she went home with her mission unfulfilled. There is no record of anyone else finding treasure there, so if it ever existed, it remains in some hidden place awaiting some lucky finder.

Bryan De Blenkinsopp

But an older legend may be the source of the White Lady ghost of the castle the hidden treasure hoard in the castle. It concerns a former castellan named Bryan de Blenkinsopp, who owned the stronghold during the Middle Ages. He was renowned as a bold, devil-may-care risktaker who thought nothing of lawbreaking to satisfy his greed and lust. He was a committed batchelor and womanizer who declared loudly, and often, he would remain so until his dying day. He swore he would only marry a lady with a trunk of gold too heavy for ten of his strongest knights to carry into his castle. But as so often happens, our own words return to haunt us, which is what happened to Sir Bryan.

A time came when, like many other lords, he went overseas to fight the Crusades and was away from home for several years. During that time, he had met a lady in some far exotic land who had equaled and even exceeded his expectations, and he had successfully courted and married her. Some legends say she was a French woman who was very plain looking but very rich and possessed a substantial box of gold that took twelve stout men to carry. Her wealth would make her attractive to a man like Sir Bryan despite her plainness.

Another account says she was young, very beautiful and intelligent, but best of all, exceedingly wealthy, and he took her back to his castle, hoping for a life of wedded bliss. She had brought with her a strongbox filled with gold that required the strength of twelve strong men in her service to lift.

The Richest Man In The North

Either way, on his return to England with his wife and her treasure, Sir Bryan was the wealthiest man in the North. But, as is seen in so many cases where money rules over love, instead of enjoying blissful matrimonial wedlock, they were enduring nothing less than a state of dreadful enduring deadlock.

They argued and fought unceasingly with increasing hatred. Finally, after one particularly spiteful fight, Sir Bryan loudly vowed he would be rid of her once and for all. His wife, never short of words, was heard muttering something in her native language which could not be understood but believed to be words filled with seething malicious intent. Both left the room angrily through separate doors and to the servants who overheard the exchange thought that to be the end of it.

However, that night the twelve strong men in the service of the Sir Bryan’s wife who had carried her strongbox of treasure into the castle appeared. At her instruction, they buried or confined it in some secret part of the castle or grounds and there it remains hidden to this day. Since then sightings of a ghostly White Lady were seen roaming around the castle and grounds seeming to be in a distraught way, but for what reason is not clear.

Mysterious Disappearances

There are conflicting reports that on discovering the treasure gone, Sir Bryan disappeared, while other accounts say it was this wife who disappeared. However, they both went missing simultaneously for unknown reasons, in a very mysterious manner, never to be seen alive again.

Furthermore, a dark and eerie accusation was laid on his wife that she was some demonic spirit sent by the devil to ensnare for her master the soul of Sir Bryan Blenkinsopp. For evidence, they pointed out that she never was known to attend church and was often heard to mutter incantations to an unknown god. After their last vicious fight, her dark mutterings became interpreted as the utterings of a spell or curse.

From this story, the unquiet spirit of the wife of Sir Bryan Blenkinsopp became identified as the ghostly White Lady of Blenkinsopp Castle, but whether she is guarding the treasure, trying to reveal it, or has some other purpose is unknown.

© 02/06/2023 zteve t evans – All Rights Reserved

Reference, Attributions And Further Reading

Copyright June 2nd, 2023 zteve t evans – All Rights Reserved

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Ghostlore: The Troubled Farmhouse of Longdendale

William_Henry_Hunt_-_A_Farmhouse_-_B1975.3.1044_-_Yale_Center_for_British_Art.jpg (1920×1438) (wikimedia.org)

The valley of Longdendale in the Peak District of England is one of those places where ghostly encounters, haunted houses and supernatural forces are never far away. The following is a retelling of a legend collected by Thomas Middleton, which he called “The Haunted Farm,” and included in his book “Legends of Longdendale.”

The Haunted Farm

Once, an ancient farmhouse stood on the edge of Godley Green in Godley. It was a pleasant location near the turnpike road along a country lane. From its windows looking east, there were good views of beautiful farmlands and beyond to the bleak hills where the ancient church of Mottram stood dark against the sky. At first appearance, especially from a distance, it looked charming, quaint, and homely. For centuries it had been the ancestral home of a family of farmers. Each generation had added to the building resulting in the interior having many rooms of varying sizes, giving it a curiously haphazard, though charming appearance from the outside.

Yet, as this charming house was approached, the quaintness shifted to an “oddness.” Something about it was out of place, or at least in the wrong place, and the dwelling did not seem comfortable in the landscape. Those of a sensitive nature perceived a cold, threatening air that clung around it, giving a vague sense of unhomeliness that was difficult to define, and a feeling of being watched. It was as if the house was a living sentient being with a brooding malign intent. Indeed, that was the sinister and unnerving reputation it had acquired over the long centuries from the superstitious local people.

According to local tradition, long before the arrival of Saint Augustine and the Christian church, before the first building of the farmhouse, the land was a site of pagan worship. The ancient people conducted unholy rituals and practices invoking the old gods to ensure the fertility of the land and people. The old religion had eventually been replaced by the new, resulting in the Christian version of life and death, this world and the next, becoming securely enchained into the minds of the local people.

The Old Dame

J’aimelart, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Numerous disturbing, unexplained incidents have been seen over the years in the farmhouse. These often involve the unquiet spirit of an old dame who was attributed to possessing all the typical physical characteristics of a witch. These included a hooked nose, a bent back, and a repulsive face. Now, folk can be very unkind towards someone who looks different from what is considered normal, allowing their own superstition and fear to influence their perception of the uniqueness of someone else.

Furthermore, to make matters worse, in the case of the old dame, she was also accused of displaying unusual behaviour, and to add spice to the pot, it was rumoured that hidden in the farmhouse or secretly buried somewhere on the farm was a horde of treasure. This treasure was rumoured to be the cause of her unquiet spirit. After she died, her ghost was seen roaming around the farmhouse and adjoining farmland, appearing to be searching for something. Some say she was looking for the treasure but could never find it. Others say she was the guardian of the treasure, and in her wanderings was checking the rooms, and patrolling the farm to guard against treasure hunters.

A Feeling of Being Watched

Over the centuries, the farmhouse had grown to a considerable size. The additions and extensions to its structure each generation had given it an irregular geometry that formed no standard plan. Inside it was a warren of rooms of varied sizes on four floors connected by creaking stairs, shadowy corridors, and cold passageways with dark corners.

There were probably several family members, servants, and farm hands in residence, and it was regularly visited by friends, neighbours, and people in the farming business. New visitors unfamiliar with the house’s history were often deceived into admiring its charm, warmth, and quaint interior and furnishings, especially from the outside looking in. However, on stepping inside, visitors were disturbed to sense an unhomely atmosphere that permeated certain parts of the house and an unsettling feeling of being watched by invisible eyes. At this realisation, the charm turned to repulsion, the warmth to chill, and a quick exit sought.

Uncanny Incidents

Over the generations, multiple sinister and unexplained events had been reported, and the farmhouse acquired a growing reputation for paranormal activity. Despite this, no one had ever been known to have been harmed other than receiving a terrible fright. Therefore, most of the family ignored such incidents, having grown accustomed to them over the years.

Even so, visitors unused to such incidents often took a less philosophical attitude. Hence, over the decades, an extensive collection of ghastly, sinister, and uncanny events experienced by non-family members continued to grow. These people were of good reputation, sound judgement and calm temperament and the reports were considered reliable.

For example, doors, even locked doors, groaned open as if an invisible being had passed through. In bedrooms, floorboards creaked under unseen feet in the dead hours of the night. People complained, while passing along the stone-flagged passageways of the ground floor, of experiencing a feeling of being watched and followed. Suddenly a voice behind utters their name as a cold hand is lain upon their shoulder. Then, turning fearfully around, they find no one there but are, gripped by an icy coldness and a feeling of blind panic.

Further incidents include doors opening and closing on their own and the sound of someone trudging up the stairs. Sleepers awake by an icy breath blowing upon their faces or someone breathing and whispering close to where they lay their head while asleep. Additionally, others tell how the bed begins to slowly rock, and their coverings are suddenly snatched away. Cold, unseen hands grasp their feet and wrench them from the bed onto the floor. At these times, the pale, ghastly figure of an old woman silently floating through walls or closed doors was often seen.

On occasions in ground floor rooms, furniture mysteriously moved around, and ornaments and portraits changed position. In the kitchen, pots and pans had been seen sliding across the kitchen table, tumbling, and crashing onto the floor on their own accord. Others fly across the kitchen as if thrown by some petulant, invisible hand. Sometimes a peculiar noise was heard, like someone sweeping the stone floor with a stiff brush. All these unusual and unexplained events were blamed upon the old dame.

File:The hypochondriac. (cropped) (BM 1866,1114.623).jpg – Wikimedia Commons

An Eerie Poltergeist

Another poltergeist incident involved a daughter in the family who was passionately courting a local lad with a reputation for being a philanderer. One evening, to her delight and his great anticipation, he paid her a visit. The two sat before the kitchen fire, wrapped in each other’s arms, whispering sweet nothings, and dreaming of a rosy future together.

Outside, all was calm and quiet; no wind stirred in the branches of the trees or whistled through cracks in doors and windows. The same relaxed state surrounded the two lovers in the kitchen by the fire. But as their passion grew, unexpectedly, a powerful gust of air burst across the kitchen out of nowhere.

An almighty clattering of pots, pans and breaking crockery was heard as they flew from one end of the kitchen to the other. Around the house, the gust sped, knocking books, ornaments and vases from shelves, tables, and ledges, dumping them unceremoniously upon the stone floor with a resounding crash. At that same instant, every door and window in the house flew wide open and crashed back into place.

Shocked out of his amour, the young man jumped to his feet, crying, “For the love of God, what is happening!”

His sweetheart replied, calmly with a smile, “Why it is nothing but the old dame on her wanderings about the house, take no notice. Let us continue where we left off!”

But her panic-stricken lover grabbed his hat and ran out the door, which opened on its own accord, and slammed shut as he bolted through. Without a backward glance, he ran hell for leather over the fields back to his own home. With him gone, the atmosphere in the house reverted to its earlier relaxed state, but the lad never returned. In time she fell in love and married a young man who made a loving husband, and the two were very happy together. Maybe the old dame did her a favour!

A Mother’s Warning

There are also reports of cases where a strange incident at the farm resulted in the righting of a wrong that occurred somewhere else. For example, one month after this incident, the farmer employed a new farmhand who lived on the other side of the village of Charlesworth. As it was a considerable distance to walk every day, the farmer agreed to provide him with lodging in the farmhouse.

The new farmhand worked his first day, impressing his employer with his attitude and industry. Then, after supper, he went to bed, looking forward to a good night’s sleep. The following morning at daybreak, he came down to the kitchen for breakfast, his eyes wide and bloodshot, his face as white as a sheet. The farmer and his wife were shocked at his appearance and asked if he was ill.

He replied,

“I have spent every minute of last night awake, shaking in fear. I have seen a boggart – an apparition – the ghost of an old woman. It was the spirit of my mother who came to visit me. On her deathbed, I had promised to place a stone upon her grave carved with her name.

I am ashamed to admit I have failed to keep that promise. I have been too selfish and greedy to spare the money for her stone. Then, last night, she came to remind me of my promise.

I am sorry for my disrespectful and selfish behaviour. Therefore, I vow I will not rest until I have saved the money to buy a stone for my mother carved with her name and placed on her grave as should have already been done!”

He kept his promise this time, although he had to work hard. He refused to stay in the farmhouse and instead chose to live back in his old home on the other side of Charlesworth.

He needed the money, so he needed his job at the farm. So, every morning, he walked the long journey to his workplace. Then, after a hard day of work, he returned on foot to his home in the evening. To give him credit, he worked hard, and he saved the money, and although it took a long time, he saved enough for a handsome stone with his mother’s name carved upon it, which he had placed upon her grave. So, whether through fear of the supernatural or old-fashioned guilt, something good came from a paranormal incident at the farm.

Exorcism

After this incident, supernatural and unexplained happenings increased. Other farmhands and servants also reported frightening experiences while staying in the farmhouse and left their employment and the farm. This affected the farm business badly as word spread of the sinister incidents in the farmhouse, and the farmer could not get staff for love or money.

At last, in desperation, he sought advice from Reverend James Brooks, pastor of Hyde Chapel, Gee Cross, who was experienced in laying to rest the disturbed spirits of the dead. The Reverend Brookes gathered the help of several devout Christians from around the locality. Under his direction, they spent several nights in the haunted rooms and passages of the farmhouse. With their help, he performed special services and rituals designed to drive out evil or lay unquiet spirits to rest.

Initially, his efforts seemed successful as for over twelve months, no other supernatural phenomenon was reported. However, inexplicable, and alarming events eventually resumed, but these were far fewer for shorter durations, but gradually increased so the exorcism was considered to have failed.

The following reports are from a period beginning in 1880 and reported over the next decade.

The Rocking Chair Incident

One day in the mid-afternoon, the farmer’s wife, with her young son and daughter, remained in the house while her family and staff were working the farm. She had just washed a tub of clothes and taken them out in the yard to hang on the washing line. As she was busy outside pegging out the washing, her children, as children so often do, saw their chance for making mischief. So, with their mother busy outside, they snuck off to open the pantry door, where they knew they would find tasty homemade jam, cakes, and biscuits to feast upon. As they greedily ate the delicacies, getting jam all over their fingers and faces, a sudden almighty crash from the room directly above made them jump in fear and guilt.

Terrified and believing there must be intruders, they dashed out into the yard for the protection of their mother and to warn her of their fears. Seeing the sticky red jam on their face and fingers, their mother realised they had raided the pantry. But seeing the fear in their eyes and having also heard the crash decided to investigate. Being a rustic, no-nonsense woman, she seized the yard broom as a weapon and marched into the house and up the stairs to the room above the pantry, her children following.

Entering the room, she was stunned to see an old rocking chair pitching violently back and forth. It was as if some invisible person in great agitation was sitting in it. She grew even more alarmed as the chair’s motion continued unabated, and although she tried, she could not stop it. So, she sent her children to find help, and they alerted one of the farm labourers. He laughed at their tale but told them to wait outside while he investigated.

Entering the room, he found the farmer’s wife bewildered and at a loss at what to do as the chair rocked violently up and down. Although he was as fit and strong as any local man and no coward, he was highly superstitious. Seeing the pitching of the rocking chair with no one appearing to be seated in it, he was paralysed with fear, too terrified to do anything. At last, unable to think of anything better, the farmer’s wife sat in the rocking chair, finally stopping its motion.

According to local tradition, the rocking chair belonged to the old dame who had been very fond of it. She was rumoured to have died while rocking in the chair in that room, and it was claimed that her unquiet spirit had set the chair in motion.

An Uncanny Garden Plot

Although the inside of the farmhouse had an eerie reputation, strange things also happened outside. The garden was fertile and highly productive except for a mysterious patch of brown soil, which seemed as good as the rest. Strangely, no plant ever grew in this patch, and an uncanny and eerie feeling emanated from it. In the hottest summer, anyone standing on that patch experienced coldness seeping into their feet that crept into their mind. Yet, inexplicably, in winter, it never froze over or turned white with frost or snow.

Earlier owners had tried to cultivate this spot but to no avail. Despite everything they tried, not a single blade of grass, weed or flower would grow. Yet, take the soil and place it in a pot away from that patch of ground, and plants thrived. Primroses, tulips, daffodils, and all the garden flowers were planted but failed to grow in that sterile plot. Vegetables and fruits were also tried but were also unsuccessful. The best gardeners using the best fertilisers and tending this patch with all skill and care did not get a solitary shoot from that soil in that location. But place the earth in a pot away from the patch, and plants thrived. It was most mysterious!

Eventually, one gardener dug down deeper than the others and, to his shock and horror, unearthed numerous bones that proved to be of human origin. This led to a theory that it was not the fertility of the soil that was the problem. Instead, by the presence of the bones, it was guessed that some act of evil had contaminated the patch and emanated up through the ground, counteracting the soil’s natural fertility. Furthermore, the bones belonged to a victim who had been wickedly murdered and buried under the plot. Alternatively, the bones had belonged to a person who had been filled with wickedness while alive. That wickedness possessed the patch and accounted for the coldness and unnatural attributes of the plot.

The Black Cat

Ernst Ludwig Kirchner, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Another strange report tells how the wife of one of the farmers received an uncanny omen of the death of one of her family. Her brother worked on the farm and had fallen ill, and she had taken it on herself to nurse him.

One day she had been forced to leave him unattended while she walked to Gee Cross on urgent farm business. Worrying about her brother, she walked quickly to Gee Cross, completed the farm business, and set off for home. While on her way, she was startled when a black cat walked across her path. It sat down, gazing at her for a few seconds with a knowing look, then jumped up and ran off. Around the locality where she lived black cats were seen as omens of misfortune. Nevertheless, she was more concerned with her brother’s health than black cats and pushed the incident from her mind and hurried on.

To her alarm, what looked like the same black cat again crossed her path, sat, looked at her, and ran off. Thinking it very coincidental, she continued to hurry back to her brother. She had not gone far when to her disbelief, the black cat reappeared, repeating the same behaviour. She tried but could not catch it, so putting all thoughts about black cats aside, she resumed her journey home.

On reaching the narrow lane that ran to her home, she found her mother had walked up from the farmhouse to meet her. It was a lovely summer evening, warm and still, yet comfortable. There was no murmur or movement in the air, and no sound of bird, animal, or anything else could be heard near or far. The mother and daughter walked along in silence, pleasantly lost in their thoughts, enjoying the evening.

The lane was bounded here and there by hawthorn hedges. As they walked, bushes to their right-hand side suddenly began to rustle and shake violently and inexplicably. Then, as they stared in shock, they saw a figure dressed all in white flowing robes leave the farmhouse door and glide along the other side of the hedge.

Realising something had happened at the farmhouse, they hurried home. On entering, the farmer’s wife ran upstairs to the sickbed of her brother only to find to her sorrow, that he had just expired.

Laid To Rest

The incidents mentioned here are just a small selection of those that have been claimed to have witnessed at the farmhouse during its long history.  It would be comforting to think that the unquiet soul of the old dame had at lasd found peace or whatever restless spirits or disturbed presence that had lurked in its confines had passed back to where it belonged.

©16/11/2022 zteve t evans

References, Attributions and Further Reading

Copyright zteve t evans November16th, 2022

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Mount’s Bay, Lyonesse, Langarroc: Legendary Submerged Lands And Buried Towns Of Cornwall – For Ancient Pages

St. Michael’s Mount in morning – Monster4711, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons

This article was first published on AncientPages.com, April 21, 2022, Mount’s Bay, Lyonesse, Langarroc: Legendary Submerged Lands And Buried Towns Of Cornwall, by zteve t evans

Cornwall, the uttermost southwestern peninsula of England, has a long, fascinating history absolutely brimming with folklore, legends, and traditions. Ancient monuments scatter the landscape, and all around the rugged coastline, traditions of smugglers, pirates and mermaids abound alongside intriguing legends of towns and land submerged by the sea or entombed under massive dunes of sand. Presented here is a brief look at three legendary places that lie buried under the sand or drowned by the sea.

The Drowned Forest And Lake Under Mount’s Bay

Mount’s Bay is home to St Michael’s Mount, a tidal island with a quaint harbour overlooked by a medieval church and a picturesque castle. It is connected to the Cornish mainland by a stone causeway at low tide. At high tide, the sea rises above the causeway cutting the Mount from the Cornish mainland, turning it into an island. According to tradition, St Michael’s Mount is where Jack the Giant Killer began his career by slaying Cormoran the Giant.

In the past, parts of Mount’s Bay were above sea level and home to woods and a body of water named Gwavas Lake. Humans and animals were believed to inhabit this area, and according to legend, on the bank of the lake was a small chapel where a holy man lived. People came to him seeking healing for ailments and agonies of the mind and body, which he cured using prayers and water from Gwavas Lake. Because of his remarkable healing powers, he became venerated as a saint, and his small chapel received a continuous stream of pilgrims seeking his aid.

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Welsh Folkltales: Myfanwy Fychan of Castell Dinas Bran

Philip de Laszlo, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

HYWEL AP EINION

Above the Welsh town of Llangollen, the ruins of Castell Dinas Bran or Crow City Castle, stand broken and forlorn against the wild sky. Today it is a place of fractured walls and stones but in the past, it was the setting for a tragic story of unrequited love. There are different versions varying in detail and several poems and songs exist extolling the virtues of Myfanwy Fychan. The Welsh poet, Hywel ap Einion, wrote the original work and appears to be addressing Myfanwy as the focus of his own love. Presented here is a retelling of the tale.

THE TALE OF MYFANWY

There was once an impoverished young bard by the name of Hywel ap Einion, and a young woman of rare beauty named Myfanwy, the daughter of the Earl of Arundel, the lord of Dinas Bran. Word spread of her beauty throughout the land and handsome, rich, and powerful men flocked to try to win her heart, but none could.

You see, Myfanwy was incredibly vain and precocious and she got a great thrill from repeatedly being told by her suitors how beautiful and desirable she was to them. In her mind, nothing was better than to have several handsome and rich suitors competing for her attention. For all her vanity, Myfanwy had a great love for poetry and music. What she really wanted was a lover who would feed this vanity by writing beautiful poetry and songs dedicated to her and her alone and sing it to her.

Hundreds of rich and handsome suitors came from near and distant lands to try and woo and win the heart of Myfanwy of Castell Dinas Bran. All failed because they could not express her beauty in poetry and song that matched her assessment of herself.

Hywel ap Einion was a talented, but penniless young bard, who lived in the valley overlooked by Castell Dinas Bran. Although he had only seen Myfanwy from afar as she walked upon the ramparts of Dinas Bran or rode past on a white pony he had fallen in love with her.

He liked to think that one day, as she walked upon the ramparts and looked over the valley, she had turned her face and their eyes had met from afar. The light from her eyes had met with his, and she had smiled upon him. He remembered the day she had rode past on her pony. As she passed him by, he swore she had inclined her head his way and smiled.

On these flimsy treads of evidence Hywel decided to take a chance and he climbed the hill to Castell Dinas Bran and begged the doorkeepers to allow him appear before Myfanwy. Because he was a bard and a true bard, he had placed his feelings towards her in words and set it to music. Now he wanted to sing it to her as much in the hope that she would like it as in the need to unburden himself. The doorkeepers laughed, and made jest of him, but went to Myfanwy and told her that the penniless bard Hywel ap Einion was outside seeking permission to sing to her a song he had written exalting her beauty.

Proud Myfanwy thought of a penniless bard singing of her beauty was below her dignity, but her vanity required that she listen to the song, so she gave permission. Hywel sang, and Myfanwy was delighted by his song, and so he wrote more songs and sang them to her. She became so pleased by his refrains that she would allow no other suitor to court her because they could not express her beauty in words in the way that he did. Hywel believed she has fallen in love with him and wrote increasingly to please her.

Unfortunately, for Hywel, a handsome, rich young man visited the court of Dinas Bran, and he too sang and wrote poetry, but far more eloquent and with a far better voice than he. The newcomer wrote and sang to Mythanwy of her beauty, and she enjoying the flattery fell in love with him casting off Hywel. Rejected and devasted Hywel wandered alone through the forests and wilds composing a last love poem dedicated to Mythanwy,

Oh, fairer thou, and colder too,

Than new fall’n snow on Aran’s brow.

Oh, lovely flower of Trevor race,

Let not a cruel heart disgrace

The beauties of thy heavenly face!

Thou art my daily thought; each night

Presents Myfanwy to my sight.

Hywel ap Einion

© zteve t evans

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Tales of the Lost, the Drowned and the All-Seeing Eye – Vengeance Will Come!

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The Feather of the Firebird

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Havelok the Dane: Hero-King of Two Realms

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Orkney Folklore: The Strange Story of Annie Norn and the Finfolk

Cornelia Paczka-Wagner, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

THE FINFOLK

The Finfolk, in the folklore of the Orkney Isles were a mysterious race of amphibious beings often presented as having a dour and sinister character with a reputation for the abduction of unwary islanders. The males of the race are known as Finmen and the females as Finwives who can resemble mermaids.  Both were believed to be responsible for abducting islanders they take a shine to having a liking for a human spouse.   They had a magical city under the sea in an unknown location where they tended to spend winter.  In the summer they spent time on hidden islands such as Hether Blether, Hildaland or Eynhallow before it was taken from them by humans.  Presented here is a retelling of a folktale found in an article in,“The Scottish antiquary, or, Northern notes & queries” by Traill Dennison which presents the Finfolk in a more positive light than many other tales.

ANNIE NORN

On the Mainland, the largest island of the Orkney Isles, there once lived an attractive lass named Annie Norn. One evening she needed salt water to cook the supper, but salt on the Mainland was in short supply and expensive. Therefore, like other islanders, she would go down to the seashore for saltwater, a chore Annie had done more times than she could remember.  However, on this occasion, to the dismay of her family and friends, Annie never returned with the seawater. Her family, friends, and neighbors searched frantically, but they could not find a sign of her anywhere.

The old folk shook their heads sorrowfully, declaring her to have been stolen away by the mysterious Finfolk. They issued solemn warnings to children,

“Beware, beware the salt seashore,
Between high tide and low,
As the sun goes down,
As the sun goes down,
Then the Finfolk come,
To steal away,
To steal away,
Forsaken and alone,
Forsaken and alone!”
                                                                                  zteve t evans

In this way, they hoped to warn children to keep away from the dangerous seas that surrounded their island home. Sadly, they never found Annie, but her memory was used to reinforce this warning for years, possibly saving many children’s lives.

WILLIE NORN AND THE STORM

The world turned, and several years after the mysterious disappearance of Annie, an Orkney sailing ship returning from Norway was caught in a violent storm.  The vessel was tossed wildly and dangerously around the North Sea, entirely out of the crew’s control. Onboard was a sailor named Willie Norn, a cousin of Annie’s.  

The crew was hard-pressed to keep their vessel afloat and were frightened and exhausted. Making matters worse, they could not see the sun or stars through the dark flying clouds above to fix a bearing, so they were utterly lost in the wild seas. When the storm finally abated, thick fog enveloped the ship, so they still could not find a mark in the sky to fix their position. Then, strangely, they saw from the sails there was a breeze, but to their shock and bewilderment, despite this wind, the ship remained dead in the water.

Sailors are superstitious folk, and these feared they were now bewitched. They had heard of unfortunate ships that remained in one spot on the ocean, never moving an inch. Eventually, all aboard perished, and the vessel became a rotting skeleton ship haunted by the ghosts of her crew. This, they feared, would surely be their doom. 

As they lamented their fate, they became dimly aware of someone, or something, approaching through the thick vapors.  As it drew near they saw it was a small boat rowed by a lone woman.

The superstitious sailors feared she was some kind of witch such as they had heard about on their travels across the North Sea. They considered that if they allowed her aboard, she would possibly bring harm or bad luck, as if there could be any worse than that they already endured!  

While they discussed these thoughts, the boat drew alongside. Then, to their shock, the woman as agile as a cat, sprang onto their vessel to stand before them, ending their need for further debate.  Willie Norn instantly recognized her and cried, “Good Lord! Can it be Annie? – It’s my cousin Annie Norn! We thought ye were lost to the sea, Annie!”

ANNIE TO THE RESCUE!

“Aye, Cousin Willie, it’s me, and how are my folks and kin at home doing now? Ye can thank thy lucky stars blood is thicker than water, or ye would not have seen me this day, and ye would have been lost to the sea yourself!” And without further adieu seized the helm, turned the ship around, and began barking out orders to the crew.  “Well, don’t stand gawping and glowering at me, as if I am some sea witch! Get ye bodies moving, fools!” she cried, issuing orders to the crew and skipper who hastened to obey.

Under her direction, the ship was set on a course and made good headway. Soon the crew saw the fog lifting to reveal a bright sunny day and a fair silver island before them.  Annie directed them into a sheltered bay where the water was as calm as a lake and overlooked by lush green hills and dales. Many clear and sparkling brooks ran down into the verdant valleys, and each one seemed to sing its own unique song as it flowed to the sea.  High in the clean, fresh air, skylarks hovered and played, singing sweet songs of joy and happiness. Indeed, to these exhausted, storm-tossed sailors, this island seemed very much like a paradise – a haven of peace, safety, and bliss. 

HILDALAND

Annie invited them to her home to enjoy a good meal and rest. She jumped lithely ashore while the crew followed with less agility but glad to be off the vessel and on solid ground. Pointing further up the shore, she led them to a large handsome house she said was her home. On hearing this, Cousin Willie piped up, “I swear by my faith, Annie for you must be very well to do and wealthy to have a house as fine and grand as this for your home!”

“Why, Cousin Willie, ’tis refreshing to hear an oath again. Ever since I left humankind behind, I have yet to hear one of the Finfolk swear once during my entire time here. The Finfolk never swear or waste breath on oaths and I give ye all good warning. While sojourning on Hildaland, swear not, keep words clean before the Finfolk, for they look darkly on such things. Remember, while on Hildaland, a close tongue keeps a safe head, for the Finfolk can be perilous when roused!” 

THE FEAST

She escorted them up to her house and into a spacious hall furnished with a large wooden table in its center carved with strange designs. Around the table were placed many chairs. Bidding them rest themselves and relax while she went out to organize a good and satisfying welcome meal for them. After they had eaten, she found them all a bed, and they slept soundly and gratefully, not knowing how long they spent in dreams. On finally awakening, they found another feast prepared more extensive and more varied than the welcome meal.  Other Fin-folk had been invited, and some arrived on huge sea horses from out of the sea.  

Annie introduced her Willie and the crew to her husband and the Finfolk, and the feast began. She sat next to her husband, closely observing the mariners with satisfaction as they tucked in. After everyone was fully satiated with food and drink, Annie stood up and addressed the sailors, telling them that it was now time they returned to their ship and sailed for home. 

HOMEWARD BOUND

Willie and the rest of the crew looked at one another bemused, and then the skipper stood up and said, “We thank ye for the rescue of us and for providing generous food and hospitality. However, although we yearn for home, we have no idea of our whereabouts and how to find our own island.”

Annie’s husband stood up smiling and said, “Ye need not worry that has been anticipated. We will gladly send a pilot to guide ye safely home. There is a fee of one silver shilling each, which must be drop into his boat as ye board your own.”

This now explained and agreed Annie led them back to their ship. While the others prepared to depart, Annie conversed with her cousin, Willie Norn who was trying hard to persuade her to return home with them. Annie laughed and asked him to give news of her well-being to her family.  “Tell my mother and father I am married to one of the Finmen who is good to me and that I am well off. Tell them I have three bonny bairns of my own to take care of who I love dearly and can never leave. My place is now with them, and my husband.  I no longer belong in the world of humans.”

Taking her purse out, she presented Willie with a strange necklace made of platted otter hair saying cannily, “Willie lad, I know ye are a-courting Mary Forbister. I know she is yet uncertain of thee, for she is an attractive lass and has many suitors and many offers. I also know thee to be truly smitten by her. Therefore, when ye arrive home and the very next time ye see her, place this necklace about her neck. I promise from then on she will never see a more handsome, finer, or better man than thee!”

When the ship was ready to leave after saying their last farewells to Annie, her husband, and the Finfolk, Willie and the crew went aboard, dropping a silver shilling into the pilot’s boat. With that done, he said, “Ye have said your thanks and farewells to Annie, her husband, and the Finfolk and paid your silver shilling. It is time to leave, and I will guide thee safely home. Now, there is one favor I ask of thee. I have always wanted to play a human at a game of cards. Now, I wonder, would ye be as kind as to play a round or two with me before we sail?”

“Aye, we will do that, and it will be good. I have a deck in my cabin which I will fetch, and we will play a round or two with thee.” replied the skipper. He soon returned with the cards, and they all settled down to a game.

A GAME OF CARDS

And so they played cards with the pilot. Whether it was the feasting they had enjoyed earlier or a spell of the pilot’s, none could say, but as they played, they all fell into a deep sleep. Some lay sprawled across the table, others nodded in chairs, and some fell to the floor and slept. They were all insensible to the world and had no notion of how long they slept.

The skipper was the first to awake and went to the deck for air. To his surprise, the first thing he saw was the familiar scenery of his home island. Quickly he roused the rest of the crew and led them on deck to show them the wonder. Joyfully, they found their ship was anchored safe and sound in the harbor of their home island.

There was no sign of the pilot or his boat, and he had taken the skipper’s pack of cards. Now, what he would want them for is unknown. In many quarters playing cards are regarded as the Devil’s books, and folk with an ungenerous nature might think he intended some devilry with them. However, the skipper was a generous man. He was not the least concerned about the loss of his cards, saying the pilot was welcome to them as a small token of gratitude for bringing them and his ship safely home.

Annie’s cousin, Willie Norn, went to see Mary Forbister and wasted no time placing the necklace Annie had given him over her neck. Just as Annie had said, from that moment, Willie appeared to Mary as the most handsome, the finest, and best man in the world, and six weeks later, they were married. They had a long and happy life and brought many beautiful children into the world. Happily, their ancestors can still be found living in the Orkney Islands to this day. As for Annie Norn, she was never heard of again and disappeared from human knowledge forever.

© 20/01/2022 zteve t evans

Publications by zteve t evans

Available as Kindle EBook (Color images)
And
Large Print Paperback – Dimensions 20.32 x 0.15 x 25.4 cm 9 – Images non-color
Available as Kindle EBook
Available as a Kindle Ebook
And
Large Print Paperback – Dimensions : 21.59 x 0.48 x 27.94 cm
All Images Non-color

References, Attributions and Further Reading

Copyright January 20, 2022 zteve t evans

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Celtic Lore: Exploring the Otherworld

Otherworld

This article was first published on #FolkoreThursday.com under the title, Exploring the Otherworld of the Celts, on 18 March, 20211, written by zteve t evans. This work has been revised and edited and different images added 3rd February 2024.

Entry to the Otherworld

The concept of an enchanted and mysterious “Otherworld” has been a typical feature in numerous myths and legends across a wide range of human cultures throughout history. The ancient Celtic people also had their version of this enigmatic and ethereal region. Their territories included Ireland, the British Isles, and a swathe of continental Europe to Anatolia, West Asia, now part of Turkey and included parts of the Iberian Peninsula. Across this vast area, there were variations in beliefs and ideas about the Otherworld. This work briefly explores their concept of the Otherworld and how it varied in different parts of the Celtic world.

Celtic Mythology

The Celtic Otherworld is frequently depicted as the realm where their deities reside, the abode of their deceased, or a harmonious combination of both. In alternate narratives, it is described as a magical paradise where inhabitants revel in perpetual youth, good health, and beauty, leading lives filled with joy and abundance, all their needs automatically met. This Otherworld is often associated with mystical entities such as fairies, Twylyth Teg, the aos sí, and other magical beings.

Entry to the Otherworld

Access to the Otherworld is typically concealed and challenging to discover, but specific individuals of merit manage to reach it through personal endeavours. Others might receive invitations, be guided by their residents, or follow given signs. Entrance may be facilitated through ancient burial mounds or by traversing over or under bodies of water, like rivers, pools, or seas. Certain locations, including specific lakes, bogs, caves, burial mounds, or hills, were believed to serve as portals to and from the Otherworld.

Another theory posits that the Otherworld exists in a parallel dimension, akin to a mirror world alongside the earthly realm. During specific periods, such as Samhain and Beltane, the barrier separating the two realms weakens, making the transition between them possible.

Annwyn: The Welsh Otherworld

Otherworld Hunt

In Welsh mythology, the Otherworld is commonly referred to as Annwn or Annwfn, with indications in Welsh tradition suggesting the existence of diverse realms or regions within its confines.

It is common in Celtic tales for a stag or deer to lead hunters into otherworldly encounters, entwining them in its affairs. An example of this is found in the First Branch of the Mabinogi, recounting the story of Pwyll, Prince of Dyfed.

While hunting in Glyn Cuch, Pwyll, having become separated from his companions, stumbles across a pack of strange white hounds with red ears mauling on a slain stag they had brought down. This event is the catalyst for an encounter with the Otherworld. The red-eared hounds belong to Arawn, the magical king of the Otherworld of Annwn, who arrives on a dappled grey horse and is outraged to find Pwyll has for driving off his dogs and claiming the stag as his own.

To assuage Arawn’s anger over the stag, Pwyll agrees to spend one year and one day in an exchange of bodies, with the mission of defeating Hafgan, another king of Annwn. This exchange means Pwyll will inhabit Arawn’s body and Arawn his for that time. The story suggests the possibility of multiple kingdoms within the Otherworld: Arawn’s kingdom of Annwn, another unnamed ruled by Hafgan, and a third where Rhiannon came from, which also is unnamed.

Arawn invites Pwyll to his hall and escorts him safely through Annwn to reach it to accomplish the task, ultimately uniting the two otherworldly realms under one monarch. During this exchange of bodies, Pwyll is presented with the opportunity to be intimate with Arawn’s beautiful wife, a queen and a representative of a goddess of sovereignty. Demonstrating his integrity as the ruler of Dyfed, Pwyll refrains from taking advantage of the situation, respecting both the queen and the sacred connection between rulership and the land.

Subsequently, a mysterious lady named Rhiannon arrives from the Otherworld, possibly from a different realm within. Her appearance is enigmatic, clad in white and gold, riding serenely upon a shining white horse. Despite being pursued by Pwyll’s fastest horses, some magical force prevents them from catching up. Only when Pwyll personally gives chase and requests her to stop does she finally halt, revealing her purpose—to ask Pwyll for marriage, an offer he accepts.

Irish Mythology – Oisin in Tír na nÓg

Niamh of the Golden Hair

Within Irish mythology, the Otherworld goes by various names, with Tír na nÓg, or the Land of Youth, being one of the most renowned. The tale of Oisín and Niamh of the Golden Hair vividly portrays life in Tír na nÓg, presenting multiple versions of this captivating narrative.

Similar to the arrival of Rhiannon in the Welsh tale, Niamh emerges as another otherworldly woman, riding a magical white horse and proposing marriage to an earthly man. Oisín, engrossed in hunting deer, accepts her proposal and is transported to Tír na nÓg, seated behind Niamh on the enchanted horse that gallops effortlessly across the sea. Upon arrival, he discovers a paradise where his thoughts materialize into reality.

Despite the luxurious and indulgent life, Oisín, a man of action, yearns for the thrill of the hunt. His wishes are granted, and he enjoys exhilarating hunts that always culminate in a perfect ending. The stag provides an exciting chase, followed by a noble death just before supper, with a magical hunting lodge and sumptuous banquet appearing effortlessly. Yet, the experience lacks the rawness and uncertainty of a genuine chase.

Bored with the predictable life, Oisín desires danger and combat. His wish is fulfilled, but the battles are orchestrated magically. He faces an ogre holding a princess captive, sustains wounds, but is healed by Niamh and never truly endangered. He triumphs over his foe, liberating the princess.

After living happily with Niamh in her land, he yearns to return to Ireland. Niamh reluctantly grants Oisín’s wish, lending him her magical white horse. However, she warns him not to touch the soil of Ireland. Upon his return, Oisín realizes that what seemed like a short stay in Tír na nÓg was, in reality, hundreds of years. His family and friends are long gone, and Christianity has replaced the older religious ways he knew. Unfortunately, Oisín falls from his horse while assisting a group of workmen. On touching the Irish soil, time catches up with him, and he instantly transforms into an dying aged man and, before he dies, shares his adventures in Tír na nÓg with Saint Patrick before passing away.

Continental Celtic Mythology

On the European continent, the Gauls divided the Otherworld into three parts: Albios, Bitu, and Dubnos. Albios represented the upper world or heaven, also known as the white world. Bitu was the world of living beings or the earthly realm, while Dubnos signified the underworld, lower world, dark world, or hell.

The Celts left scant written records of their beliefs, and much of the available information comes from non-Celtic sources that might have imposed their interpretations. Lucan, a Roman poet, asserted that Gaulish druids believed in an Otherworld he called Orbis aloha, where souls went before reincarnation.Procopius of Caesarea, a Byzantine scholar, believed the land of the dead for ancient Gauls lay west of Britain. According to him, the souls of the departed travelled to the northwestern coast of Gaul, took a boat to Britain, and then visited the homes of local fishermen. These fishermen ferried the souls of the dead across the sea to their final destination.

Breton and Galician folklore still retain remnants of these beliefs. In Breton tradition, the ships that transported the dead to the Otherworld were known as Bag an Noz. In his book “La légende de la mort chez les Bretons Armoricains,” Anatole Le Braz describes processions of souls traversing the land to reach the coast, where they began their voyage to the Otherworld.

In examining these few instances, it becomes apparent that the concept of the Celtic Otherworld exhibited diversity across regions, with variations even within individual areas. The depictions of the Otherworld range from magical and enchanting to dark and disturbing, mirroring the nuanced nature of the earthly world experienced by humans in contemporary times.

The concept of an enchanted and mysterious “Otherworld” has been a typical feature in numerous myths and legends across a wide range of human cultures throughout history. The ancient Celtic people also had their version of this enigmatic and ethereal region. Their territories included Ireland, the British Isles, and a swathe of continental Europe to Anatolia, West Asia, now part of Turkey and included parts of the Iberian Peninsula. Across this vast area, there were variations in beliefs and ideas about the Otherworld. This work briefly explores their concept of the Otherworld and how it varied in different parts of the Celtic world.

© zteve t evans

Reference, Attributions and Further Reading

Copyright zteve t evans

  • Celtic Otherworld – Wikipedia
  • Annwn – Wikipedia
  • The Mabinogion and the Four Branches of the Mabinogi – The Mabinogi of Pwyll
  • Welsh Mythology: Pwyll’s Sojourn in Annwfn – Under the influence!
  • Tír na nÓg – Wikipedia
  • Oisín – Wikipedia
  • Otherworld – Wikipedia
  • Religion of the Ancient Celts by J. A. MacCulloch
  • Image by conjured and modified by zteve t evans using Bing Image Creator from Designer using the commands, “A misty strange world with a stag, a wolf, a raven, a waterfall, a young man and woman in a forest, in the distance a road leading to a mountain in the style of Gustav Klimt.” – ” 23 January 2024
  • Image Otherworld Hunt conjured and modified by zteve t evans using Bing Image Creator from Designer using the commands, “an otherwordly forest featuring a stag being chased a pack of white hounds with red ears by a dark king riding a grey horse in the style of Edvard Munch, 22 January 2023.
  • Image Niamh of the Golden Hair” conjured by zteve t evans usinf Bing Image Creator from Designer using the commands A princess with long golden hair, dressed in white riding a white horse over the sea waves while sun is setting in the style of the pre-raphaelites – 22 January 2024
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Celtic Lore: Shapeshifters of Myth and Legend

Joseph Christian Leyendecker (1874 – 1951), Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

This article was first published 11 March 2021 on #FolkloreThursday.com titled, Shapeshifters from the Celtic World by zteve t evans. It has been revised and edited and give different images 3st Feb 2024.

Shapeshifters From The Celtic World

Shapeshifters are found in most mythologies and folk traditions worldwide from ancient to modern times. In such traditions, humans change into vampires, werewolves, frogs, insects, and any other creature imaginable and back again. Sometimes, the transformer controls the transformation and shifts shape at will. Other times, it is an unwelcome event such as a punishment, and sometimes, a magical spell forces it, but there are many varied reasons besides. Shapeshifters can be good or bad, often moving the story forward in a novel way or having some symbolism that the teller wants to convey to their audience. There are many kinds of shapeshifting. Here, we look at examples from Ireland, Wales and Scotland that provide differing glimpses of shapeshifters in action in these three Celtic nations’ myths, folklore, and traditions.


Irish Shapeshifters

In Irish mythology, the Morrigan was a shapeshifting war goddess who could transform into a woman of any age, animal, or bird form. She had the power of prophecy and, as a war goddess, would sing her people to victory in battle. Sometimes, she could be seen swooping over the battlefield as a raven or crow and devouring the bodies of the slain.


In the story of the Táin Bó Cúailnge, or “The Cattle Raid of Cooley,” the Morrigan appears as a crow to warn the bull named Donn Cuailnge that Queen Medb is plotting to abduct him. Queen Medb attacks Ulster to obtain the bull to be resisted single-handedly by the hero Cú Chulainn, fighting a series of duels with her champions at a Ford. In battle, Cú Chulainn undergoes a spectacular change in his form described as “ríastrad” or “warp-spasm” that sees his body twist and contort into the most grotesque and fearsome appearance, terrifying his opponents.


In between the duels, the Morrigan appears before Cú Chulainn as an attractive young woman seeking his love and offering her help. He rejects her, and feeling offended, she seeks revenge by aiding his opponents. First, she turns into an eel and trips him. Next, she turns into a wolf and causes a herd of cattle to stampede towards the Ford. Lastly, she transforms herself into a heifer and leads the stampede, but despite her magical shapeshifting, she fails, and Cú Chulainn manages to wound her on each transformation. Later, she transforms into an elderly woman milking a cow bearing the three wounds. She offers him milk to drink, and he blesses her, healing her wounds, which he later regrets.


Welsh Shapeshifters

There are many examples of shapeshifting in Welsh mythology where a human takes the form of an animal or bird, and even flowers are transformed into maidens. In the story of Math fab Mathonwy, the Fourth Branch of the Mabinogi, Math and Gwydion created the maiden Blodeuwedd out of broom, meadowsweet, and oak flowers and later transformed into an owl. Earlier, Gwydion had undergone a series of transformations, changing into a stag, sow, and wolf, even producing offspring as a punishment inflicted by Math.


An exciting and extraordinary example of shapeshifting appears in the story of the birth of Taliesin. The sorceress, Ceridwen, brewed a potion to give to her son Morvran ab Tegid that would endow him with great wisdom and knowledge. She gave a boy named Gwion Bach the task of stirring the brew and tasked a blind man with feeding the fire. As Gwion was stirring, three boiling drops spat from the cauldron onto his hand. Putting his hand to his mouth to relieve the pain, he accidentally ingested the drops, becoming endowed with awen instead of Morvran. With knowledge and wisdom provided by the awen, he foresaw Ceridwen’s wrath at the accidental ruining of her scheme.


Knowing he must escape, he transformed into a hare, but she became a greyhound hot on his tail. Therefore, he transformed into a fish and leapt into a river, but she became an otter and closed in on him. Just in time, he transformed into a bird and flew away. She changed into a hawk and again began to close in on him. Seeing a pile of winnowed wheat lying in a barn, he dived into that, transforming himself into a kernel of corn. Transforming herself into a black hen, Ceridwen pecked it all up, including him. With him inside her, she was now pregnant and, nine months later, gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. Realising the baby was Gwion Bach reborn, she wanted to kill him, but because of the fairness of his brow, she could not. Giving him a slim chance of survival, she placed him in a leather bag and cast him into water. He would later be rescued and became the greatest Welsh bard in history.


Scottish Shapeshifters

In Scottish folklore, selkies and kelpies are vastly different shapeshifting entities from the Irish and Welsh examples we have looked at. Moreover, they are entirely separate entities, having distinctive characteristics, making them intriguing subjects in legends and folktales. First, we will look at the selkie, and then discuss the kelpie.

Transforming Selkie

A selkie changes form from seal to human by removing its seal skin and must put its seal skin back on to revert to its seal form. The female selkie often becomes trapped in a relationship when a man steals her seal skin while she is in human form. With the theft of her seal skin, her power has been stolen, and she cannot transform back into her original form and must live on land as a woman. Sometimes, she will marry but spends considerable time pining for the sea. She may have children, but if she ever recovers her seal skin, she quickly forsakes them and her husband to return to the sea. According to tradition, male selkies are very handsome in human form, and women find them very seductive. The male selkie tends to seek out those women who are unhappy in their marriage, such as fishermen’s wives who wait patiently alone at home for their husband’s return.


Kelpies are a different kind of entity in Scottish folklore. They are dangerous, supernatural horse-like entities with shapeshifting abilities dwelling in rivers, pools, and lochs. According to tradition, lone travelers sometimes encountered them lingering near watery places. They often take the form of a beautiful woman or horse but can also adopt other guises, such as an old man’s. One sign of their real identity can be revealed when water weed is noticed entangled in their hair.


A folktale from the island of Barra tells how an amorous male kelpie transformed into a handsome young man hoping to seduce and marry a local girl. While the young man was sleeping, she noticed he wore a silver necklace, which was, in fact, his bridle. She removed it, and he transformed into a horse. The girl takes it to her father, who is a farmer, and he puts it to work for a year. At the end of that year, she takes it to a wise man, seeking his advice. He advises her she must return the silver necklace to him, which she does, and the horse transforms into the handsome young man. The wise man asks the young man if he would prefer to live as a kelpie or a mortal man. The young man asks the girl if she would marry him if he kept his human form. She confirmed that she would, and the kelpie chose to be a mortal man and married the girl.


Shapeshifters in Abundance

From gods and goddesses to witches and sorcerers to strange, dangerous supernatural entities that haunt the wilds, Celtic mythology and folklore have an abundance of shapeshifters. Examples of transforming humans into animals or vice versa can be seen in the rock art of ancient cultures around the world, predating the Celts. Similarly, in the modern age, shapeshifters are found in traditional and contemporary media, reflecting how this strange and intriguing phenomenon still piques curiosity and strikes the right chord with many people today.

©zteve t evans

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King Arthur, Rhitta Gawr and The King’s Whiskers

© 03/02/2021 zteve t evans

The Mantle of Kings’ Beards

Many, many years ago, in the time of King Arthur, when our ruler’s beards were greater than their commonsense, there were two other kings named Nynio and Peibo.  Each ruled over a fine and rich kingdom and their subjects enjoyed peace and prosperity.  The two kings were friends and liked to go walking in the countryside in the evenings.  They would often indulge in friendly banter trying to out do each other bragging about their accomplishments or possessions to one another.  Most of the time this was just good-natured teasing but on one occasion things got wildly out of hand.  One evening as they were out strolling, as the stars were appearing, Nynio looked about and making an extensive gesture to the sky with his hands said,

“Look above and all around, Peibo, my friend, see what a wonderful and extensive field I possess!”

Peibo looked all around the sky and asked, “Well now, where is it?”

“It is there, above and around as far as eyes can see, the entire sky is my field and mine alone,” boasted Nynio with pride.

“Oh, is that so? answered Peibo.

“It is,” said Nynio.

“Well, now,” said Peibo, not wanting to be out done, “Can you see all of the great herds of cattle and flocks of sheep that are in that field and grazing.  Each and every animal is mine and mine alone.”

 “I see no herds of cattle, I see no flocks of sheep,” replied Nynio.

“Look harder,” replied Peibo “they are the great swathe of stars that stretch across the sky with smaller herds and flocks scattered here and there.  See how each one shines with gold or silvery brightness.  See how the moon, their beautiful shepherdess guards and takes care of them for me and me alone!”

“It is my field and they shall not graze in my field,” replied Nynio indignantly.

‘Yes they shall,” replied Peibo firmly.

“They most certainly shall not!” replied Nynio angrily.

Both kings were now becoming very heated and angry with each other and became possessed by a madness.

“Shall!” snapped Peibo.

“Shan’t!” Shouted Nynio.

“‘Tis war!”  They both cried together.

In their madness they returned to their kingdoms, mustered their armies and wrought bloody and merciless war on each other.  Both kingdoms were laid waste as both armies fought each other in a cruel and merciless war of attrition.   The fighting only stopped because of the sheer exhaustion of the two sides.  There was no victor save foolishness and what were once two fine and prosperous kingdoms lay in smoking ruins with the people left traumatized and starving.

The King of Wales, a giant named Rhitta Gawr, heard about the madness of the two kings and how they had destroyed their own fair and prosperous kingdoms through their foolishness. He consulted with his wise men and his barons and it was agreed that they should take advantage of the present weakness of these once strong and prosperous kingdoms.   Therefore, he mobilized his army and invaded and conquered the two broken kingdoms, capturing the two monarchs and cutting their beards off to teach them a lesson.

News that Rhitta Gawr had invaded and conquered the two warring kingdoms spread throughout the island of Britain and reached the ears of twenty-eight kings.  They were appalled at the foolishness of  Nynio and Peibo and the wanton destruction of the two kingdoms and outraged by the invasion of Rhitta Gawr.  However, what really made them angry was the shaving of the royal whiskers of the two mad kings by the giant.   They deemed inflicting this humiliation on two monarchs, despite their foolishness, had gone too far.  Therefore, to avenge what they saw as a degrading and humiliating act on two of their own status they united their armies and declared war on Rhitta Gawr. The battle was long and bloody and Rhitta Gawr eventually defeated the coalition of kings and had them brought before him.

“Look around, look upon the Earth and look around the skies.  All you see is my vast field.  All the herds and flocks, all the pastures are mine!” he told them in jubilation.  With no further ado or ceremony he ordered the royal whiskers of the defeated kings to be shaved off completely.

News spread beyond Britain of the victory of Rhitta Gawr and how he had shaved the beards of his enemies. The kings of twenty-eight neighboring realms were outraged.  Not so much at the initial mad foolishness of Nynio and Peibo, or the defeat of the twenty-eight kings.  No, it was the shaving of the royal whiskers that outraged them and they merged their armies and attacked Rhitta Gawr. The battle was ferocious and bloody but once again Rhitta Gawr defeated and captured his enemies and once again jubilantly declared,

 “Look around, look upon the Earth and look around the skies.  All you see is my vast field.  All the herds and flocks, all the pastures are mine!”

With no further ceremony he ordered that the beards of the defeated be cut off.  When they had all been shaved clean he stood before them and addressing his own troops pointed at the beardless, defeated, kings and declared, 

“See, these animals that once grazed here!  These are now my pastures and I now drive them out and they shall graze here no more!”

Rhitta Gawr now possessed the beards of a sizeable number of kings which made a sizeable pile of whiskers and somehow, for some reason a very strange idea came into his head.  Somehow, the notion grew on him that he would use the pile of royal whiskers to make a fancy mantle to wear around his shoulders.  He believed he would look very elegant and magnificent and the cloak being made from the whiskers of kings he had defeated would emphasize his own power and glory. 

The more he thought about it the more obsessed  he became with the idea while the sheer grossness of it completely escaped him.  Therefore he had a mantle made from the king’s whiskers to wear around his broad shoulders that reached down to his heels.  Rhitta Gawr was at least twice as large as the largest man so the size of the garment and volume of whiskers he had collected was considerable.  

When the mantle was made he tried it on.  In his own mad mind he thought he looked very elegant and the height of fashion but realized there was something missing.  After considerable contemplation he decided he needed an exceptionally splendid beard to make a collar to finish off the entire magnificent piece.  There was only one royal beard that would be magnificent enough to do his mantle justice and that was on the chin of King Arthur, the greatest king of Britain.

He sent a messenger bearing a demand to King Arthur commanding him to shave off his beard without delay and give it to the messenger to bring back to him.  He promised out of respect to Arthur his royal whiskers would adorn the most prominent place on his wonderfully elegant new mantle which would be the height of fashion.  If he refused to comply he warned he would fight him in a duel to decide the matter.

Unsurprisingly, Arthur was not impressed by the command.  He was, however, angry with the mad foolishness of Nynio and Peibo and the defeat and humiliation all the other kings by Rhitta Gawr. Surprisingly, he did not seem the least perturbed at the giant’s taste in mantles but the forced shaving of the beards of all of the vanquished really annoyed him.  Furthermore, the very idea that he would willingly offer up his own royal whiskers to the arrogant giant really inflamed him. 

Angrily, he informed the messenger that but for the laws of his Court, which even he must obey; he would have slain him there and then for bringing such an offensive suggestion before him.  He told him to tell his master this was the most arrogant and insulting demand he had ever heard and for his impudence he would take his head, beard and all.  Wasting no time he mobilized his army and marched to Gwynedd in Wales to meet Rhitta Gawr in battle.

The two met face to face, beard to beard and the giant towered above glowering down. Arthur stood his ground and glared back fiercely.

“Give me your whiskers!” demanded Rhitta Gawr.

“Shan’t” replied Arthur angrily.

“Shall!” roared Rhitta Gawr.

“Shan’t! replied Arthur.

“T’is war!” they both cried together and immediately began fighting, trading blow for blow with great ferocity and strength. 

Although both received many wounds and were greatly bloodied they fought long and hard neither yielding to the other, each giving as they received.  At last Arthur was taken by a fury.  He drove forward catching the giant a mighty blow slicing through his helmet and splitting his forehead and quickly followed through with a strike to his heart.  Rhitta Gawr died and Arthur kept his royal whiskers. 

The giant was placed on top of the highest mountain of that region which was known as Eryi in those days.  Arthur ordered the soldiers of both armies to each place a stone over his body raising a cairn to cover him.  That place became known as Gwyddfa Rhitta or  Rhitta’s Barrow.  Today the Welsh call it “Yr Wyddfa” which means “tumulus” and the English call it “Snowdon”, meaning “snow hill,”  One consolation for Rhitta Gawr was that at least he did come to adorn a truly magnificent work of nature though judging by his taste in mantles it is doubtful he would have appreciated it.

To think that all this came about through the madness of two kings and the fact that the rulers of Britain had greater beards than their commonsense.  Looking around today it is worth noting that few of our rulers wear whiskers and perhaps that speaks for the greatness of their commonsense!

© 05/05/2021 zteve t evans

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Copyright May 5th, 2021 zteve t evans

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Celtic Lore: Cauldrons – The Magical, the Mythical and the Real

Magic Cauldron 1

This article was first published on #FolkloreThursday on 11th February 2021, titled , “Ancient Celtic Cauldrons: The Magical, the Mythical, the Real,” by zteve t evans, who has revised, edited and provide new images and republished here 5th February 2024

Cauldrons

Cauldrons held symbolic significance in the folklore of the ancient Welsh and Irish Celts, appearing as enchanted objects in their most revered tales, while in everyday life, they served many practical purposes, including boiling water, preparing meals, making beverages, and fulfilling other needs. They were also used in sacred rites and public ceremonies, becoming featured in some of their most significant religious myths, where they were given magical, healing, and rebirth qualities and associated with individual gods and goddesses.

For example, in Irish mythology, there was the Cauldron of the Dagda, the god of plenty, while the mythos of Wales spoke of the Cauldron of Cerridwen, the goddess of change. In Celtic society, cauldrons were also possibly status symbols, being finally engraved and wrought to exhibit the wealth and status of a person and were often placed in their tombs when they died. First, we will briefly examine the everyday usage of cauldrons, then look at five mythical cauldrons. Finally, we will discuss one genuine, ancient, and unique cauldron found in a bog in Denmark.


Transformation and Inspiration

As a container for water, cauldrons symbolised the ocean and lakes. But it was not just the water or contents but the vessel itself that was important, which changed whatever item was placed into it, into something else. Ancient cauldrons have been found in springs, rivers, lakes, bogs, and other wet and watery places believed to have been purposely left as votive offerings to deities of such places. Cauldrons were also symbolic of the womb, where human life was created and reborn. When water is boiled in a cauldron over a fire, its magical properties become visible as it bubbles, and whatever is added to it is transformed. To the Celts, a person’s poetic and artistic inspiration was determined by their way of life, and the amount they received depended on the intensity of the bubbles in the cauldron.


The Cauldron of Ceridwen

In the mythos of the Welsh Celts, the goddess and sorceress Ceridwen owned a famous cauldron of inspiration, knowledge, and rebirth. It was featured in the tale of the birth of Taliesin, where she used it to brew a potion that would imbue inspiration and wisdom to whoever drank it. She had intended it solely for her son, Afagddu, to compensate him in life for the unfortunate ugliness he had been born with. The mixture had to be boiled and stirred for one year and one day. She assigned feeding the fire to a blind man named Morda, while a boy named Gwion Bach was responsible for mixing the potion as it heated.


Many people see the continuous stirring of the cauldron as the motion that creates the perfect blend of divine wisdom, inspiration, and the perpetual cycle of life, death, and rebirth. By chance, three drops of the potion spilt on Gwion’s hand. To soothe the pain, he put his hand to his mouth and immediately gained great wisdom and the gift of Awen. Blessed with this gift, he knew Ceridwen would be angry and fled. During the chase, the two underwent multiple shapeshifting transformations, eventually resulting in Gwion’s rebirth as Taliesin.


The Dagda’s Cauldron of Plenty

In Irish mythology, a famous cauldron belonged to the Dagda, a giant deity with a long black beard. This cauldron is called the Cauldron of Plenty and is one of the Four Treasures of the Tuatha Dé Danann. The Dagda was a god associated with fertility, agriculture, strength, and masculinity. Although often presented humorously as a huge man, he was a god of enormous status and importance, controlling the weather, crops, time, seasons, and life and death. Everyone of good character could eat their fill from this cauldron, which never ran out of good, cooked food. The spoon was said to be so large two men could easily fit into it.


The Pair Dadeni

In Welsh mythology, the Pair Dadeni was also known as the Cauldron of Rebirth and features in the second branch of the Mabinogi story called Branwen ferch Llŷ, as having the power to return the dead to life but bereft of the power of speech. Originally, it belonged to Llaes Gyfnewid and his wife Cymydei Cymeinfoll, two giants who had lived under an Irish lake known as the Lake of the Cauldron. Cymydei Cymeinfoll was the larger of the two and was said to give birth to a fully armed adult warrior every six weeks. The Irish king, King Matholwch, gave them a place at his court, but the two giants fell out with their host, who attempted to burn them to death. They fled to Wales and were received well by King Bendigeidfran, another giant, and in return for his hospitality, they gave their cauldron to him.


When King Matholwch sailed to Wales asking for the hand of King Bendigeidfran’s sister, Branwen, in marriage, Bendigeidfran and his Branwen agreed on the wedding. However, when their half-brother, Efnisien, found out, he objected and, out of spite, mutilated the Irish king’s horses. To make amends with Matholwch, Bendigeidfran gave him the cauldron as a peace offering. Matholwch returned to Ireland with Branwen, who later gave birth to a son named Gwern. Unfortunately, along with Branwen and the cauldron, he also brought back to Ireland a grudge against the Welsh and systematically mistreated Branwen, making her life unbearably miserable. The unhappy Branwen raised and tamed a starling and taught it to carry a message across the Irish Sea to her brother in Wales, telling him of her plight. Upon receiving a message from his sister, Bendigeidfran and his army set sail to rescue her, but was too gigantic to fit in a boat. Therefore, striding before them across the Irish Sea, he led the fleet to Ireland to free his sister. Upon their arrival, fearing such a powerful army, the Irish made peace with the Welsh. They built a massive house, big enough to hold Bendigeidfran and his army, and held a feast in his honour.


Once again, Efnysien caused trouble by killing Gwern, Branwen’s son, which triggered a violent battle between the Welsh and the Irish. Efnysien, realising the Irish were using the cauldron to revive their slain warriors, placed himself in a pile of their dead and was thrown into the magical vessel. After entering, he successfully destroys the cauldron from the inside, resulting in his death. Although the Welsh emerged victorious, King Bendigeidfran was fatally wounded. He commands his followers to cut off his head and carry it back to Wales, advising him he would still be able to talk to them on the way despite the decapitation. The Irish army was destroyed, but only seven Welsh warriors survived the conflict, along with Branwen, who died of a broken heart soon after her return to Wales.


The Cauldron of Dyrnwch, the Giant


The Pair Dyrnwch Gawr, or the cauldron of Dyrnwch, the Giant, is one of the Thirteen Treasures of the Island of Britain (1) and is valued for having the ability to distinguish between a brave man and a coward. Water boiled quickly, and meat cooked fast for a brave man. In contrast, water would not boil, and meat would not cook for a coward. The Thirteen Treasures of the Island of Britain (1), also known as Tri Thlws ar Ddeg Ynys Prydain in Welsh, are a collection of legendary objects that hold significant value in late-medieval Welsh folklore. Various texts have mentioned these items dating back to the 15th and 16th centuries. The Cauldron of Dyrnwch could have been associated with a similar vessel, the Cauldron of Diwrnach, mentioned in the Middle Welsh tale Culhwch ac Olwen.


The Cauldron of Diwrnach

Magic Cauldron 2

In the tale of Culhwch ac Olwen, a cauldron belonging to Diwrnach Wyddel, the Irishman, steward to Odgar, the son of Aedd, King of Ireland, is one of the anoetheu, which means wonders or marvels, that Ysbaddaden, the giant and father of bride-to-be Olwen, demands the groom-to-be Culhwch, complete by accomplishing a set of impossible tasks.


“Though thou get this, there is yet that which thou wilt not get. The cauldron of Diwrnach Wyddel, the steward of Odgar the son of Aedd, king of Ireland, to boil the meat for thy marriage feast.” (2)


Culhwch seeks assistance from his cousin, King Arthur, to ask King Odgar for the cauldron, but Diwrnach refuses to give it up.


Accompanied by a small group, Arthur visits Diwrnach in Ireland and is welcomed into his home. Despite being rebuffed once again by Diwrnach, Arthur’s companion, Bedwyr takes matters into his own hands and seizes the cauldron, entrusting it to one of Arthur’s servants, who carries it on their back. With one swift swing of his legendary sword, known as Caledfwlch, Llenlleawg defeats Diwrnach. A battle breaks out between the Irish forces and Arthur and his followers, but they fight their way back to their ship, Prydwen, taking with them the cauldron loaded with the spoils of war, return to Britain. In this tale, the cauldron is not believed to possess any supernatural abilities.


Preiddeu Annwfn – The Spoils of Annwfn


However, in an earlier Welsh poem called Preiddeu Annwfn, or The Spoils of Annwfn, Arthur and his companions embark on a quest to acquire a cauldron with mystical properties like the one listed in The of Thirteen Treasures of the Island of Britain. The poem differs in that the desired cauldron is the property of the king of Annwn instead of an Irish monarch, maybe implying that Culhwch and Olwen’s story is a later endeavour to euhemerise an earlier mythical saga.


It’s possible that Diwrnach, a name deriving from the Irish, Diugurach, and with no known literary origins, was intentionally chosen by the author of Culhwch ac Olwen to highlight the Irish setting of the tale. While Dyrnwch is not explicitly referred to as being Irish, many scholars deem it likely this name has roots in Diwrnach. The existing manuscripts of Tri Thlws ar Ddeg also feature alternate spellings like Dyrnog and Tyrnog, which lack Irish influence, and it is speculated these are Welsh attempts at pronouncing a foreign name.


The Gundestrup Cauldron

Image from Gundestrup Cauldron – Public Domain

The Gundestrup cauldron, dated to about 1 BC, is the most impressive historic Celtic cauldron ever found, though its origins are disputed. It is made from silver and features intricate and beautiful designs. The silversmiths who crafted the piece are unknown, but such exquisite silverwork was rare in those days. There is speculation that a Celtic smith might not have created the object, but rather by the best craftsman available, who may have been outside the Celtic domain, for a customer of eminence within. The Celtic iconography etched upon it suggests it was commissioned by an unknown, high-ranking Celt, probably for purely ceremonial purposes. The imagery is believed to express one or more Celtic myths and possibly display several deities mixed with other images of a different style.


The Importance of Cauldrons to the Celts

Many scholars believe ancient Celts gathered around a cauldron to enjoy eating together, perhaps as a family or at a social event. The Gundestrup cauldron, made of silver, was likely used for holding pre-cooked food or drink, or as a purely ceremonial object, rather than for cooking over a fire. After the meal, the bards might entertain by telling stories of their ancestors and gods. The stories were typically transmitted from one generation to another through oral tradition to reach the ordinary people. The images on the Gundestrup cauldron could have been used as a prompt for a storyteller, indicating a simple form of literature for the educated few. Alternatively, the images could have been purely for decoration.


The original purpose and history of this artefact remains a mystery, but its existence highlights the significance of cauldrons to the Celtic people as portrayed in their mythologies. Some scholars interpret the cauldron’s images in terms of Celtic gods and mythology from the British Isles, but other experts are highly skeptical of these interpretations. Nevertheless, there are apparent similarities between the details of the figures and Iron Age Celtic artifacts found by archaeologists.


Various iconographic details can be traced back to ancient Near East art. Additionally, there are interesting similarities between Hindu deities and stories from earlier Indian civilisations and later epochs. However, some scholars only view the images as purely decorative with no deeper meaning. Meanwhile, other scholars have tried to associate the style, motifs and art with broader traditions remaining from Proto-Indo-European religion despite the distance.


Many motifs are not European and present an unfamiliar world, distinct from those of the people who left it in the wetland bog in north Jutland. The iconography of the cauldron features various creatures such as lions, elephants, mythical beasts, and several unknown gods. The style of the figures suggests that the cauldron was crafted in a foreign land, most likely in the far southern or southeastern region. However, the exact origin of the cauldron remains uncertain and subject to further investigation.

While there are those who doubt its Celtic origin, many others see the ancient stories and myths etched upon its silver plates and in this way regard this ancient item as carrying the magical stories of the ancient Celts to the modern world.

© zteve t evans


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Five Trees Featured in Celtic Lore

Oak tree image by RegalShave from Pixabay

This article was first published on 21st January 2021 on #FolkloreThursday.com under the title Top 5 Trees in Celtic Mythology, Legend and Folklore by zteve t evans. This has been revised and edited 26 February 2024, and some of the images may have differ from the original.

Animism

The ancient Celtic people, as animists, believed that all objects, including trees, had consciousness to some degree. Furthermore, they considered each tree species to possess different properties, which might be medicinal, spiritual or symbolic. Wood was used for everyday needs, including fuel, shelter, tools, and weapons like spears, arrows, and many other items, and provided nuts and berries for food for themselves and their animals. Some species of tree are featured in stories from their myths, legends and folklore, and here we present five trees that played an essential role in these tales and lore.

Oak Trees

The oak was the king of the forest, having many associations throughout the Celtic world with religion, ritual, and myth, and had many practical uses. For the Druids – the Celtic priesthood – it was an integral part of their rituals and was also used as a meeting place. According to the 1st-century geographer Strabo, Druids in Galatia, Asia Minor, met in a sacred grove of oak trees they named Drunemeton to perform rituals and conduct other Druidic business. In 1 AD, Pliny the Elder, writing in Historia Naturalis, documented how a Druidic fertility rite on the sixth day of the moon involved a Druid cutting mistletoe from the branches of an oak and the ritual sacrifice of two white bulls.

Oaks also played essential parts in Welsh mythology. In the Math fab Mathonwy, the last of The Four Branches of the Mabinogi, the sorcerers Gwydion and Math create a maiden they named Blodeuwedd or flower-faced from the blossoms of the oak, the broom and meadowsweet. She was made to be the bride of their nephew, Lleu Llaw Gyffes, who could not marry a human woman due to a curse placed on him by Arianrhod, his mother. He married Blodeuwedd, who had never learned the social conventions, never having experienced the learning process of growing up. She had an affair with Gronw Pebyrv, and together, they plotted to kill Lleu. Gronw badly wounded him but, turning into an eagle, flew into an oak tree to escape being murdered. The oak appeared to be a refuge between the living world and the world of death, and he remained there until Gwydion found and cured him.

Ash Trees

Ash trees image by binael from Pixabay

The ash tree was the queen of the forest. Ash trees have significance in both Irish and Scottish mythology and folklore. It was believed to have been used in the rites of Beltane and formed part of the sacred trinity of trees with the oak and the thorn. Ashwood was thought to protect against fairies, and their seed pods were used for divination. The Gaels of Scotland used it for medicine and to protect against witchcraft. Its wood was considered especially good for making spears, staffs and wands and was believed to protect against evil. A Druid’s wand made from ash was found on the Welsh island of Anglesey and is thought to date from the early 1st century CE.
In Celtic Ireland, five magical trees protected the land, three of which were ash. The remaining two were an oak and a yew. The Bile Tortan, or the Tree of Tortu, grew in County Meath at Ard Breccan near Navan. This tree reputedly sheltered all the men of Tortu and was thought to have come down in AD 600. The Caeb Daithi, or the Branching Tree of Daithe, grew in County Westmeath at Farbill. The third sacred ash tree was the Craeb Uisnig, which grew on the hill of Uisneach and is considered the centre point of the island of Ireland.

Apple Trees

Apples image by Hans from Pixabay

The apple tree and its fruit had numerous functions in Celtic myth, legend and folklore. Unsurprisingly, apples symbolised fruitfulness and a means to obtain immortality. In Welsh and Arthurian tradition, the Island of Avalon was King Arthur’s final resting place and the home of Morgan le Fay and her sisters. It was also known as the Insula Pomorum or Isle of Apples. In Irish tradition, the magical island of Emain Ablach was also known as the Isle of Apples. A story from the Ulster Cycle, Aided Chon Roí, or the Violent Death of Cú Roí, tells how the soul of Cú Roí was held in an apple that lay in the stomach of a salmon that only ever appeared once every seven years.

Hazel Trees

Hazel nuts image by TBIT from Pixabay

Hazel trees were significant in Celtic traditions, providing wood and edible nuts. Tara, the religious centre and royal seat in ancient Ireland, was once known as Fordruim and described as a hazel wood. In the Ogham alphabet of ancient Ireland, the letter “C” was represented by the hazel tree. According to Robert Graves, it represented the ninth month of the Old Irish calendar. The Fianna, an elite group of Irish warriors and poets, were expected to defend themselves using only a hazel stick and a shield. In many stories, the hazel without its leaves was considered evil and believed to ooze poison.

In Wales and Ireland, the hazel was considered a fairy tree. Its wood was sacred to poets and deemed inappropriate to use as fuel for fires. Hazel wands were used as badges of office by messengers and couriers. Witches also made their wands from hazel, which were and still are used as divining rods to find underground water sources. In Irish mythology, the poet Finn Eces, also known as Finegas, caught the Salmon of Knowledge. Later, the mythical Irish hero Fionn mac Cumhaill ate the salmon. The salmon had gained all the knowledge of the world after it had eaten hazelnuts that had dropped into the pool from nine hazel trees that surrounded it. This knowledge was passed on to Fionn after he ate the salmon.

Yew Trees

Ancient yew tree image by imordaf from Pixabay

Yew trees are renowned for their longevity. Scientists use a scientific method called dendrochronology, which examines growth rings to date trees. Dating Yew trees is problematic because their annual growth rings decay in the centre, making it difficult to accurately determine their age by counting tree rings. New techniques have been worked out which may give greater accuracy, though these are sometimes contested. Even so, some people believe there are yews alive today that were growing in Celtic times and maybe earlier.

According to the Woodland Trust, the Fortingall Yew in Perthshire is believed to be between 2,000 and 3,000 years old. Possibly an older tree is the ancient yew in the churchyard of St Cynog’s church in Defynnog, which may be up to 5,000 years old. Another yew of similar age grows in the churchyard of St. Digain’s Church in Llangernyw village, known as the Llangernyw Yew. According to legend, every Halloween, a voice from the tree names every one of the local people who will die in the following year. One man named Siôn Ap Rhobert refused to believe this. One Halloween, he waited under the yew to hear whose names would be called out. His name was called, and he died within the year.

The Druids were believed to have regarded yews as sacred and would have been aware of their longevity and regenerative qualities. The drooping branches of old yews, when in prolonged contact with the ground, can take root and form trunks which support the main tree, whose core may be rotting. The needles of the yew were poisonous and could cause death, but its longevity and renewal caused it to become associated with resurrection, consequently becoming associated with death and renewal.

A Threefold Reminder

The trees mentioned here are just a few species the Celts knew and admired. Like many other human cultures, they developed the idea of a Tree of Life, Tree of Knowledge or the World or Cosmic Tree. This unique tree connected the other, or underworld, to the heavens, passing through the earthly world. It was a powerful symbol of the existence of the three worlds and the connections between them. This threefold reminder emphasised the respect and reverence the Celts had for their trees, and many people in the modern world are inclined to believe that we could learn a thing or two from the ancients.

© zteve t evans

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