Fact or Myth? Gelert The Faithful Hound – The Story Of A Good Boy.

The tragic story of Gelert and Prince Llywelyn the Great is one of the most popular and well known Welsh folk tales. You’d certainly be hard pressed to find a Welsh person who hasn’t at least heard of this story. This is how the tale of the unfortunate hound is told as seen on the famous slate tablets marking his supposed grave in the northern Welsh town of Beddgelert:

In the 13th century Llywelyn, prince of North Wales, had a palace at Beddgelert. One day he went hunting without Gelert, ‘The Faithful Hound,’ who was unaccountably absent. On Llywelyn’s return the truant, stained and smeared with blood, joyfully sprang to meet his master. The prince, alarmed, hastened to find his son, and saw the infant’s cot empty, the bedclothes and floor covered with blood. The frantic father plunged his sword into the hound’s side, thinking it had killed his heir. The dog’s dying yell was answered by a child’s cry. Llywelyn searched and discovered his boy unharmed, but nearby lay the body of a mighty wolf which Gelert had slain. The prince, filled with remorse, is said never to have smiled again. He buried Gelert here.

As seen on the slate tables marking Gelert’s grave.
The slates marking Gelerts grave. (https://www.flickr.com/photos/41474448@N03/)

In the most common telling I have heard Gelert was usually left behind on purpose the guard the young son. there are even some versions that say Gelert was a gift from the English Monarch King John! An interesting tale for sure! So is there any basis in truth for the legendary dog? Sadly no.

Firstly it is widely assumed that the name Beddgelert is a reference to the hound as it translates to “Gelert’s Grave”. This is actually not the case though. The town is named after an obscure Celtic Christian saint who went by the name of Celert or Killarth. Gelert is the cymricized version of Celert so the misunderstanding is certainly forgivable.

So who was Celert/Gelert exactly?

“Gelert was a hermit in the late 7th century who lived in a cave near what is now known as the Holy Well of St Celer near Llandysul. In the Dark Ages, pilgrims would travel to the well for healing by Gelert. Eventually a chapel dedicated to St Mary (called “Capel Mair”) was erected over the well, of which the ruins still remain. It is believed that Gelert was at some time a missionary, evangelising in Llangeler and Beddgelert. According to modern historical belief, he was martyred in Beddgelert, although this is a misconception simply based on the town name’s meaning (“Gelert’s grave”). It is believed, however, that Gelert was martyred.”

So we know where the towns name actually does come from now. So what about the hound in question? How did he become associated with the towns real life namesake? There have been various versions of the tale of the faithful servant being unjustly killed in folklore all over the world. In the 15th century versions of this tale the hounds name was had not yet become Gelert but was instead known as Cilhart. In this version of the tale the faithful Cilhart dies from exhaustion after a long and particularly arduous hunt. He is then buried with much ceremony. It wasn’t until the the 18 century that the tale took the shape it does today and captured the public’s imagination.

Many tourists visit Beddgelert and inevitably stop by at Gelert’s grave. What perhaps they don’t know is that this part of the story is relatively modern. This is thanks to a certain Mr David Prithard who certainly popularised the tale. It is believed Pritchard moved into the area 1793 or 1801, depending on the source. A innkeeper by trade, he owned the Goats Head found nearby and created the slate tablets and the location of Gelert’s grave to drum up tourism. He even raised a megalith named Gelert’s Bed!

The Welsh dog-hero/saint Gelert, associated with Prince Llywelyn the Great (1173-1240), is, however, a romantic fiction of the late 18th century derived from a 5th century Indian Buddhist work, the Pancha Tantra. The story gained wide currency in Europe [and] the Middle East. The heraldic Rous Roll of the 15th century, for example, depicted the arms of Wales as a helmet on which stand a dog and a cradle. But it was finally applied specifically by a hotelier to the village of Beddgelert, named after an obscure, early-medieval, local saint. To reinforce the story further, he erected a megalith, Gelert’s Bed. The ‘new’ story became the subject of a poem by W.R. Spencer which Joseph Haydn set to music. Such is the stuff of nationalist legend — and this is one of the more benign examples.

(Weir, Anthony 2011)
Gelert by Charles Burton Barber (c.1894)

This particular trope of folklore is found all over the world. The Alpine ligurian poem R sacrifisi dr can, written in Ligurian, tells of how a shepherd shot his sheepdog after finding it covered in sheep blood, only to later find a dead wolf in the stable.In India, a black snake replaces the wolf and a mongoose replaces the dog. In Egypt, the story goes that a cook nearly killed a Wali for having smashed a pot of herbs, but later discovers that the pot contained a poisonous snake.

In Malaysian folklore, a similar story involves a tame bear, kept by a Malay hunter as the guardian of his young daughter. As in the story of Gelert, the hunter returns home from an expedition, and finds his daughter gone and the bear covered in blood. Hastily thinking the bear has devoured his daughter, the hunter kills it with his spear, but later finds the body of a tiger, killed by the bear in defence of the hunter’s daughter, who shortly emerges from the jungle, from where she took refuge.

Who Knoweth the Spirit of Man… by Byam Shaw (1901)

What makes this particular example interesting is the conflation of a real life man and a legendary dog. Perhaps the reason Gelert the faithful hound is remembered so fondly today is that it is a lot more romantic than the tale of an obscure early Celtic saint. The association with one of Wales greatest ever leaders certainly does not hurt either. It’s a story I have enjoyed getting into the bones of and I’m sure it will delight local and tourist alike for many years to come.

As always, thanks for stopping by!

Sources:

Jenkins, D. E. (1899). “Chapter V. The Legend of Gelert”. Bedd Gelert: Its Facts, Fairies and Folklore. Portmadog: L. Jenkins. pp. 56–74.
D. L. Ashliman, Llewelyn and His Dog Gelert and other folktales of Aarne–Thompson type 178A
Spencer, William Robert (1921). “Beth Gêlert”. In Curry, Charles Madison; Clippinger, Erle Elsworth (eds.). Children’s Literature. Chicago: Rand McNally. pp. 436–437. Retrieved 29 October 2011.
Horne, Richard Henry (1846). “Beth Gelert”. Ballad Romances. London: Charles Ollier. pp. 187–202. Retrieved October 29, 2011.
Ticknor, Francis Orray (1911). “Gelert”. The poems of Francis Orray Ticknor. New York & Washington: The Neale Publishing Co. p. 85. Retrieved 29 October 2011.

Cassels, Walter Richard. “Llewellyn”. Archived from the original on 2011-12-02.
Prince, John Critchley (1880). “”North Wales””. The poetical works of John Critchley Prince. 1. Manchester: Abel Heywood & Son. p. 326. Retrieved 29 October 2011. poem
Cultura alpina in Liguria, by Realdo e Verdeggia, published by SAGEP EDITRICE, 1984, ISBN 88-7058-106-3, 254 pages
Childhood of Religions: Embracing a Simple Account of the Birth and Growth of Myths and Legends, by Edward Clodd, published by Kessinger Publishing, 1998, ISBN 0-7661-0502-4, ISBN 978-0-7661-0502-7, 300 pages

Community of St Celer, Plas Geler, Llandysul, West Wales
Jenkins, David Erwyd (1899). “The Village”. Bedd Gelert: It’s Facts, Fairies, & Folk-lore. Porthmadog, Wales: Llewelyn Jenkins. p. 23.
Rhŷs, John (2004). “Art and Archaeology”. Celtic Folklore: Welsh and Manx. Oxford, England: Adamant Media Corp. p. 567.
Joseph Jacobs BBC on “llan”
Dog Saves Baby: The Dog Soldier, Snopes.com, accessed March 9, 2011.
Weir, Anthony. Holy Dogs and Dog-Headed Saints, accessed March 9, 2011.
The Story of Beddgelert: real tragedy or urban myth?, accessed March 9, 2011.

Cantre’r Gwaelod – The legend of the lost Welsh Kingdom

‘When waves crashed on the sea-shore
with thunder in its wake
The bells of Cantre’r Gwaelod
are silent ‘neath the wave’

(Williams 1869–1954)

The British Isles are a land full of mystery and half remembered legends waiting to be rediscovered by those of us who are attracted to such matters. Is there an archaeological basis for such folklore and tales of forgotten Kingdoms? The legend of King Arthur persists and you will find countless videos on Youtube or documentaries on television trying to (unsuccessfully I might add) prove his existence. Let’s examine the legend of the sunken kingdom of Cantre’r Gwaelod found In Cardigan, West Wales and what the archaeology tells us.

Cantre’r Gwaelod or the Lowland Hundred in English is an ancient sunken kingdom that has been dubbed the Welsh Atlantis by many and is an important part of Welsh culture and heritage having been featured in folklore, literature and song. It was said to occupy a lush, fertile area that lay on a stretch of land running between Ramsey Island and Bardsey Island which is now Cardigan Bay, West Wales. So how does the legend go? Well there are actually several versions of it which isn’t all that unusual with folklore. The oldest version of the tale I was able to find was one found in the Black Book of Carmarthen which dates back to the mid-13th century. The land in this version of the tale is called Maes Gwyddno (the Plain of Gwyddno) and it was lost due to the neglect of a well-maiden called Mererid who had left her duties due to the successful amorous advances of a local visiting king “Seithennin”. This allowed the well to overflow. The neglect of duties appears to be a consistent theme for the legend.

The most popular and well known version of the tale today was likely formed during the 17th century. For the sake of not rehashing information that is already out there I will instead quote direct from a piece by the BBC detailing the story:

“Cantre’r Gwaelod, which extended some 20 miles west of the current shoreline into what is now Cardigan Bay, was ruled as part of the Kingdom of Meirionnydd by Gwyddno Garanhir (Longshanks), born circa 520 AD.

The land was said to be extremely fertile, so much so that it was said that any acre there was worth four acres elsewhere. The catch was that the land depended on a dyke to protect it from the sea. The dyke had sluice gates that were opened at low tide to drain the water from the land, and closed as the tide returned.

Around 600 AD, one night a storm blew up from the south west, driving the spring tide against the sea walls. The appointed watchman, Seithennin, a heavy drinker and friend of the King, was at a party in the King’s palace near Aberystwyth. Some say he fell asleep due to too much wine or that he was too busy having fun to notice the storm and to shut the sluices.

The water gates were left open, and the sea rushed in to flood the land of the Cantref, drowning over 16 villages. The King and some of his court managed to escape by running to safety along Sarn Cynfelin, Gwyddno Garahir and his followers were forced to leave the lowlands and make a poorer living in the hills and valleys of Wales.”

Here again we see the neglect of duty as a theme. It’s not hard to see why this tale is so popular, the romance of a lush sunken kingdom is enticing. The tale has everything – drama, mystery, tragedy and even scandal if you prefer the tale featuring Mererid and her kingly lover. A particular favourite detail of mine is that the bells of Cantre’r Gwaelod are still said to ring and can be heard in times of danger.

So is there any physical archaeological evidence that this mythical kingdom ever existed? Sadly no. Interestingly though there are multiple reports of remains being spotted over the years. In 1770, a Welsh antiquarian scholar by the name of William Owen Pughe reported seeing sunken human habitations about four miles (6.4 km) off the Ceredigion coast, between the rivers Ystwyth and Teifi. Samuel Lewis author of the 1846 edition of The Topographical Dictionary of Wales had this to say about a feature of stone walls and causeways observed beneath the shallow waters of Cardigan Bay:

In the sea, about seven miles west of Aberystwyth in Cardiganshire, is a collection of loose stones, termed Caer Wyddno, “the fort or palace of Gwyddno;” and adjoining it are vestiges of one of the more southern causeways or embankments of Catrev Gwaelod. The depth of water over the whole extent of the bay of Cardigan is not great; and on the recess of the tide, stones bearing Latin inscriptions, and Roman coins of various emperors, have been found below high-water mark: in different places in the water, also, are observed prostrate trees.”
Low tide reveals Sarn Gynfelyn, one of the so called causeways.

These “causeways” that Lewis talks about are known today as the Sarnau which modern geologists have identified as being formations of clay, gravel and rocks which are moraines formed by the action of melting/retreating glaciers at the end of the last ice age. These ridges stretch several miles into the sea at right angles to the coast, and are located between each of the four river mouths in the north of Cardigan Bay.

The “prostrate trees” are to my mind clearly remnants of an ancient woodland known as a submerged forest. They are surprisingly common around the west Welsh coast. I will go into the submerged forests of Wales in a future post as it’s something I’m very passionate about, I’m even writing my dissertation on it! But I digress…
There are extensive submerged forests found in the immediate area in and around Cardigan Bay. The radiocarbon dates from the remains of trees at Ynyslas, Cardigan Bay, suggest that they died around 5,500 years ago, while those just over a kilometre to the south at Borth died some 2,000 years later. Borth has been a hive of archaeological activity on the exposed submerged forest for a few years running now. There is some really interesting work going on with the exposure there over the last few years and it has yielded some outstanding archaeology.

The submerged forest of Borth (Image: @welshphotographs)

It’s easy to see from the image above how the idea of a lush, prosperous kingdom could have existed beneath the waves of Cardigan Bay. It seems to the author to be another take on the “great deluge” tales that almost every ancient culture in the world has. Is it possible there was a extensive human settlement named Cantre’r Gwaelod where the waves of Cardigan bay now lap the shore? Yes. Is it likely? No. That being said we know for a fact the land was habitable and indeed “lush” from the remains of the submerged forests. I’d even say it was extremely likely there was human activity in and around the area. Ancient footprints from both humans and animals have been found embedded whith the exposed peat beds at Borth. Likely about  3,000 to 4,000 years old. My own university (UWTSD Lampeter) houses a display with 4,000-year-old red deer skull and antlers found in Borth.

4000 Year old red Deer antlers found at Borth (UNIVERSITY OF WALES TRINITY SAINT DAVID)
The submerged forest of Borth (Image: @welshphotographs)
The submerged forest of Borth (Image: @welshphotographs)

The tale of Cantre’r Gwaelod – The legend of the lost Welsh Kingdom is fascinating. Importantly it has also captured the public’s imagination and fuelled interest in local archaeology which is always a positive thing. Maybe some eager archaeologist will one day discover the remains of the fabled kingdom whilst out on a dive. Who knows?
I will sign off with the famous Poem ‘Boddi Maes Gwyddno’. Thanks for stopping by!

Boddi Maes Gwyddno

Seithenhin sawde allan.
ac edrychuirde varanres mor.
maes guitnev rytoes.
Boed emendiceid y morvin
aehellygaut guydi cvin.
finaun wenestir mor terruin.
Boed emendiceid y vachteith.
ae. golligaut guydi gueith.
finaun. wenestir mor diffeith
Diaspad vererid y ar vann caer.
hid ar duu y dodir.
gnaud guydi traha trangc hir.
Diaspad mererid. y ar. van kaer hetiv.
hid ar duu y dadoluch.
gnaud guydi traha attreguch.
Diaspad mererid. am gorchiut heno.
Ac nihaut gorlluit.
gnaud guydi traha tramguit.
Diaspad mererid y ar gwinev kadir
kedaul duv ae gorev.
gnaud guydi gormot eissev.
Diaspad mererid. am kymhell heno
y urth uyistauell.
gnaud guydi traha trangc pell.
Bet seithenhin synhuir vann
Rug kaer kenedir a glan.
mor maurhidic a kinran.

English Translation:

Seithennin, stand forth
And behold the seething ocean:
It has covered Gwyddno’s lands.
Cursed be the maiden
Who let it loose after the feast,
The cup-bearer of the mighty sea.
Cursed be the girl
Who let it loose after battle,
The cup-bearer of the desolate ocean.
Mererid’s cry from the city’s heights
Reaches even God.
After pride comes a long ending.
Mererid’s cry from the city’s heights today,
Implores God.
After pride comes remorse.
Mererid’s cry overcomes me tonight,
And I cannot prosper.
After pride comes a fall.
Mererid’s cry from strong wines;
Bountiful God has made this.
After excess comes poverty.
Mererid’s cry drives me
From my chamber.
After pride comes devastation.
The grave of high-minded Seithennin,
Between Caer Genedr and the sea:
Such a great leader was he.

Sources:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cantre%27r_Gwaelod

https://www.walesonline.co.uk/news/wales-news/stunning-ancient-forest-welsh-beach-16309498

http://www.cantrer.pale.org/pages/poem/

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-wales-mid-wales-36157302

http://www.discoverceredigion.co.uk/English/more/legends/Pages/lostland.aspx

Gwyndaf, Robin (1989). “34. Cantre’r Gwaelod, Dyfed”. Welsh folk tales/Chwedlau gwerin Cymru (2 ed.). Cardiff: National Museum Wales/Amgueddfa Genedlaethol Cymru. ISBN 978-0-7200-0326-0.

“Cantre’r Gwaelod – The Lost Land of Wales”. Legacies – UK History Local to You. BBC. Retrieved 4 January 2012.

Haughton, Brian (2008). Haunted spaces, sacred places : a field guide to stone circles, crop circles, ancient tombs, and supernatural landscapes. Franklin Lakes, NJ: New Page Books.

Ashton, William. “31. The Lost Cantref Gwaelod”. The Evolution of a Coast-Line, Barrow to Aberystwyth and the Isle of Man, with Notes on Lost Towns, Submarine Discoveries, &C. London: Edward Stanford Ltd. ISBN 978-1-176-60264-9. (map illustration on page 257)

Lets go on an adventure!

“To excavate is to open a book written in the language that the centuries have spoken into the earth.”

― Spyridon Marinatos

Welcome one and all! This blog will be myself talking about various historical and archaeological subjects that I find interesting. I’m currently on a break from my final year of my BA in Nautical Archaeology and thought why not? Lets begin…

Taking Dumpy levels of the submerged forest exposure at Abermawr 2018. (Crofts 2018)

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