Three of the tasks loom larger than the others. One is to secure the blood of the pitch-black witch, daughter of the bright-white witch from the Valley of Grief in Hell’s back country. The blood is needed to stretch out Ysbaddaden’s hairs, which must be shaved before the taking of Olwen. This is accomplished, as Culhwch promises.
A second is to enlist the help of Mabon the Hunter, who is locked up in Gloucester Castle and of whom nothing has been heard since he was snatched from his mother Modron when he was but three days old. Though not much time in the narrative is spent on him, Mabon interests commentators because of his divine antecedents in Maponos of ancient Britain and Gaul. Further, he is cited as one of the Three Exalted Prisoners of the Isle of Britain, in the Welsh Triads (Trioedd Ynys Prydain), that medieval treasure-trove of Welsh lore. Once he is released from his enchanted imprisonment, Mabon is the oldest of all living beings, quite a paradox for someone whose name means ‘youth’. His aid is still valuable to Culhwch’s quest.
More formidable is the challenge of securing the shears, razor and comb from between the ears of Twrch Trwyth, son of Taredd Wledig. The huge destructive boar was once a king who, with his followers, had been transformed as punishment for his evil ways. Arthur and Culhwch begin the chase, which extends through south Wales, Cornwall and Ireland. With Mabon’s help, the party catches up with the boar and retrieves the necessary implements before driving him into the sea.
Returning with their booty, Culhwch and Arthur face Ysbaddaden. One of their party, Caw of Britain, shaves the giant’s beard, and his flesh and skin down to the bone, and his two ears. Thus subdued, Ysbaddaden agrees that Culhwch has won his daughter but gives credit to Arthur for this turn of events. He also admits it is time to end his life. Another member of the party, Goreu, strikes off his head and places it atop a courtyard post.
Culhwch takes possession of the giant’s fort and his kingdom. That night he sleeps with Olwen. As long as he lives, she is his only wife.
PWYLL, PRINCE OF DYFED; MABINOGI, BRANCH I
Proinsias MacCana has written that the Mabinogi ‘is not a mythological document in any primary sense; it is a literary construct which makes use of mythological, and other, materials’ (1992). Its author is not, he adds, a mythographer conscientiously recording the traditions of the gods for their own sake, but instead a gifted writer shaping the shattered remains of a mythology to his own literary ends. We do not know that author’s name, but he lived in Dyfed in southwestern Wales and worked between 1050 and 1120 during the transition to Norman occupation. Action in the Mabinogi takes place in the real world, with frequent citations of actual place-names, as in Irish stories. Triads within the narrative testify to an origin in oral tradition. Many hands and many heads contributed materials, but only one personality shaped the text we read. He was probably a cleric; he always praises patience and chastity, and he certainly knows the law.
Later than the author is the redactor, the person who put the stories in the form under which they were copied in manuscript. The redactor, in contrast to the author, was a stylist rather than a storyteller. His sophisticated diction and rhetoric display a knowledge of Latin and blend the colloquial judiciously with the learned. Adjectives are used sparingly, and there is little figurative language.
Although the title ‘Four Branches’ was imposed in modern times, there seems little doubt today that the four tales belong together. They may be juxtaposed so that a reader might compare them. J. K. Bollard (1975) argues for their essential unity by stressing the three themes that unite all four stories, namely friendships, marriages, and feuds. He sees, further, a continual interplay between the three that functions as a unifying element in the stories, an interplay that also comments on social attitudes and relationships. The four stories embrace many repetitions and cross-references, and no incident in the Mabinogi is superfluous or isolated.
The story of Pwyll is told in two barely connected portions. In the first the prince encounters Arawn, ruler of Annwfn, and agrees to exchange forms with him for a year. In the second Pwyll meets the dazzlingly beautiful Rhiannon, who becomes his wife. She suffers from a false accusation, but they produce a son, Pryderi. Dyfed was earlier the name of a region in southwestern Wales. The modern Dyfed, reconstituted in 1974, embraces a much larger area.
While hunting one day near Glyn Cuch [glen scowl], Pwyll, Prince of Dyfed, becomes separated from his companions. He is startled by a pack of hounds, not his own, running down a stag. They have a certain ominousness about them because they bear the colours of the otherworld: snow-white fur with red ears. Pwyll is about to drive them away when the dogs’ master appears and chides the prince for his discourtesy. The stranger identifies himself as Arawn, a king of Annwfn. Medieval readers would identify Annwfn as the otherworld, but the two men discourse as if it were just another mortal kingdom. Arawn tells of being harried by a rival king, Hafgan [summer white], and proposes Pwyll redeem his bad manners by taking on Hafgan in single combat in a year’s time; to work out this plan, Pwyll and Arawn should exchange both shapes and kingdoms for a year. The bargain will be concluded when Pwyll in the shape of Arawn lays Hafgan low with a single blow – because a second would allow the villain to revive.
Without a moment’s consideration of what a year’s imposture would entail, Pwyll agrees to the adventure. As Arawn he is a wise and good ruler of Annwfn, but he has overlooked his obligations to the king’s beautiful wife. At bedtime, Pwyll as Arawn sets his face to the wall and says nothing, never so much as touching the wife, much to her surprise and disappointment. The impostor king is nonetheless courteous to the wife on all public occasions. When the appointed time comes, Pwyll as Arawn meets Hafgan in combat at a river ford. In a single gallant blow Pwyll sunders Hafgan’s shield and knocks him the length of an arm and a shield over his horse’s hind end. In deathly bravado, Hafgan asks for another blow as a coup de grâce, but Pwyll remembers the dangers of delivering a second stroke. Arawn’s court and retainers rejoice that the kingdom is again united. His promise kept, Pwyll returns to Glyn Cuch, where he greets Arawn. The two rulers thank each other for their stewardship and return to their own kingdoms in their own shapes. That night when Pwyll returns to his own marriage bed, he is pleased to learn from his wife (not named) that Arawn chastely kept his part of the bargain. Arawn also maintained Pwyll’s reputation as a just ruler in his absence. In payment for his service the mortal king is given a new title: Pwyll Penn Annwfn [ruler of Annwfn].
The second portion of Pwyll’s story seems barely connected to the first. The king is seated on the magical mound of Arberth, where one might be expected to see wonders. The mound’s lore is fulfilled when Pwyll beholds a woman approaching dressed in brilliant gold brocade and mounted on a majestic, pale white horse. No one knows her name, but the king’s men pursue her, and on a fourth attempt determine that she is Rhiannon. This is the most theatrical entrance in the Four Branches and partially explains why the name ‘Rhiannon’ has such resonance outside Welsh literature; she is also a figure with ancient roots (see pp. 79–80). Rhiannon identifies herself as the daughter of Hyfaidd Hen, who has arbitrarily betrothed her to another man, while she loves only Pwyll, whom she has been seeking. Pwyll allows that, yes, he loves her as well and asks that they be married at a feast to follow in a year and a day. She agrees. In a year’s time Pwyll brings one hundred men with him to the expected feast at Rhiannon’s father’s palace. The festive mood changes abruptly when a tall, auburn-haired stranger, his regal bearing enhanced with satin garments, enters and asks a favour of Pwyll. To Rhiannon’s dismay, Pwyll grants it, in a moment of reckless high spirits. Shortly, alas, the stranger is revealed to be Gwawl son of Clud, the father’s choice as suitor, who wants his promised bride now. Honest Pwyll feels bound to his promise of granting a favour, but Rhiannon refuses to marry Gwawl before another year has passed. Portentously, Rhiannon gives Pwyll an enchanted bag, advising him to make good use of it when the time comes.
After a year a second great w
edding feast is held with Gwawl in the honoured place as prospective groom. During the merrymaking, an old beggar clad in rags and rough shoes enters, asking charity from the party: just a bag of extra food to take with him. Gwawl graciously agrees, but something begins to go wrong. No matter how much food servants place in the bag, they cannot fill it. The bag cannot be filled, the beggar offers, until someone endowed with wealth and land gets into the bag and stamps it down. Rhiannon asks Gwawl to see if this is true. The would-be groom has only to put his two feet into the bag for the ruse to be revealed. The beggar, Pwyll in disguise, pulls the bag over Gwawl’s head and ties it. The Prince of Dyfed then blows his horn and invites the other merrymakers to join him in a game of ‘badger-in-the-bag’, striking and kicking the bag stuffed with the hapless Gwawl about the hall. Only when the captive Gwawl agrees not to seek revenge is he released. Pwyll and Rhiannon are then happily married.
Trouble of a different kind befalls the couple. After a period of barrenness, Rhiannon gives birth to a son who inexplicably disappears the very next morning. Household servants, fearing they will be charged, contrive to make it appear that Rhiannon has murdered her own son. Although stunned at this charge, Pwyll will not put his wife away. He agrees, instead, that she should suffer a unique punishment, that of sitting each day at the castle gate’s horse block. There she should tell her tale to every passing stranger while offering to carry each one on her back. Some commentators feel this episode implies Rhiannon’s antecedent in the ancient horse-goddess Epona.
Relief from Rhiannon’s torment comes from across Wales in the little kingdom of Gwent Is Coed, where a lord named Teyrnon Twrf Lient raises horses. On each Calan Mai [May Day], his prize mare always foals, but no one knows what becomes of the offspring. One year Teyrnon investigates by waiting in the horse barn through the night of the birth. A huge clawed arm comes through the window. Moving quickly, Teyrnon hacks off the arm at the elbow and then dashes outside to see what lies behind it. In darkness, he can see nothing. On his return to the barn he finds an infant boy wrapped in the finest satin. As Teyrnon and his wife are childless, they raise the boy as their own, calling him Gwri of the Golden Hair. As the boy matures rapidly Teyrnon and his wife recognize that he bears a striking resemblance to Pwyll, Prince of Dyfed. They take the boy to Pwyll’s castle, where there is understandable rejoicing and Rhiannon is released from her humiliating punishment. The rightful parents now claim their son and name him Pryderi [care (?)].
BRANWEN, DAUGHTER OF LLŶR; MABINOGI, BRANCH II
Unlike Branch I, the title character Branwen [white or sacred raven] here is more of a supporting player than a lead. The focus instead is on her family, the Children of Llŷr, offspring of the Welsh sea-god. It is led by the giant Bendigeidfran (or Bran [crow/raven?] the Blessed), in the company of his stalwart brother Manawydan and their beautiful sister Branwen. In their house also are two half-brothers born of the same mother, the rancorous Efnisien [unpeaceful] and the mild Nisien [peaceful]. The action switches to Ireland when Branwen marries the Irish king Matholwch, where war breaks out after Efnisien insults the in-laws. Branwen dies, and Bendigeidfran is killed, but his severed head remains to protect the Isle of Britain.
Action begins in the ancient coastal seat of Harlech, where Bendigeidfran the new king of the Isle of the Mighty (Britain) reigns with his court and family. One day the new king sees thirteen ships with embroidered satin pennants coming from Ireland with a fair wind. On them is the Irish King Matholwch, seeking to make an alliance. Bendigeidfran and brother Manawydan agree to marry Branwen of the snowy breast to the Irish King Matholwch, which she appears to accept. At first this seems like a boon to both parties. A huge celebration is held in a tent because Bendigeidfran cannot fit into a conventional building. Then things begin to turn sour. Half-brother Efnisien rages that he was not consulted about the nuptials and takes his vengeance by mutilating Matholwch’s horses; he cuts their lips, ears and tails so that they are both disfigured and useless. The Irish guests are shocked. Covering for the household, Bendigeidfran explains that the misdeed was only a whim of his malevolent half-brother and offers to make up the loss, horse for horse. Sweetening his contrition, Bendigeidfran offers three gifts: silver, gold and, most importantly, a cauldron of regeneration that overnight will restore slain warriors to life. In giving the gift, Bendigeidfran explains that the cauldron originated in Ireland. One Llassar Llaes Gyfnewid with his wife Cymidei Cymeinfoll retrieved it while escaping from a fiery house there. They turned over the cauldron of regeneration to Bendigeidfran, who offers it now for the merging of the families. This is sufficient for Matholwch, who has heard the story of the cauldron. He returns to Ireland with wedding gifts, his entourage and his bride.
The first year as queen of Ireland goes well for Branwen. She receives love and acclaim, which increases when she produces a son named Gwern [alder]. In the second year suppressed resentment begins to surface. Matholwch’s brothers keep remembering Efnisien’s old insult and ask that Branwen be made to suffer for it. She is removed from queenship and sent to the kitchen where the cook bullies her and kitchen boys box her ears. For three years Branwen suffers while the Irish cease all commerce that would return word of her humiliation to her family. Resourcefully, she trains a starling that carries the news to the court at Harlech, whereupon Bendigeidfran immediately prepares a great army to invade Ireland. Welsh armed men board ships for the crossing, but Bendigeidfran is so huge he must wade the Irish Sea. Matholwch’s defenders are stupefied by the Welsh king’s immense size, but Branwen knows that her brother has come to rescue her.
The Irish scurry west. When in their flight they destroy the last bridge over the Shannon River, Bendigeidfran must make of himself a human bridge, allowing his men to cross on his back. Seeing their cause weakened and wishing to ingratiate themselves with the invaders, the Irish make an entreaty. To compensate for their mistreatment of Branwen, Matholwch offers to build a house big enough to hold Bendigeidfran. Stealthily, though, they use pegs to hold a hundred bags filled with armed men inside the house. Efnisien’s malevolence is then put to rare good use. He asks what is in the bags, and being told they are filled with flour, squeezes each until he has cruelly murdered every warrior. Trapped by their own ruse, the Irish are left with nothing to say.
Despite the discomfort of this moment, both sides share in a night of feasting. In a gesture of conciliation, the Irish confer their sovereignty on Gwern, the son of Branwen and Matholwch. The boy wins the affection of both Irish and Welsh, all except scowling Efnisien, who jealously plunges Gwern into the fire. This unleashes latent tensions on both sides, with widespread fighting and slaughter. Having the cauldron of regeneration, the Irish could seize the advantage by bringing their dead back to fight. In a climactic act of contrition, Efnisien hides himself among the Irish corpses, waiting to be thrown into the cauldron. Once he is cast inside, his body stretches out and breaks the cauldron in four ways – bursting his own heart at the same time.
All the Irish men are slaughtered, and only five of their women are spared. The Welsh suffer as well, but seven of their number survive, including Pryderi, Manawydan and Bendigeidfran. The giant king is later mortally wounded by a poisoned spear in the heel. His death request is most unusual. He implores the Welshmen to cut off his head and take it to Gwyn Fryn [white mound] near London but facing France. On their route the men hear the sweet music of the three small birds of Rhiannon. Branwen’s return brings deeper sadness. She can still see Ireland when she sets foot in Wales, and, turning, cries out, ‘Dear Son of God – alas that I was born! These good islands have been destroyed because of me.’ Sighing deeply, she dies of a shattered heart.
The five surviving Irish women, we learn, are pregnant, and each bears a son. In maturity, each young man mates with a different woman, producing the tribes that become the five provinces of Ireland.
MANAWYDAN, SON OF LLŶR; MABINOGI, BRANCH III
The title character of the third branch, Manawydan, continues
his role as brother and heir of Bendigeidfran in the second branch. Joining him are characters from the first branch, Rhiannon and her son Pryderi, who is now ascribed a wife, Cigfa. Most of the action is set in southwestern Wales with successive forays into England. While there is much magic in this branch, there are also depictions of the lives of tradesmen.
On their return from the foray to Ireland to rescue Branwen, Manawydan and Pryderi settle in Dyfed, where Pryderi is lord of seven cantrefs (100 townships each). Seeing that Manawydan lacks a companion, Pryderi promises the hand of his still beautiful mother, Rhiannon. Both parties are highly receptive to this match and sleep together as soon as they can. Pryderi chooses Cigfa, daughter of Gwyn Gogoyw, for himself. The two couples get on together prosperously and happily until an inexplicable mist comes upon them quite suddenly. This occurs while the four are feasting at Arberth, the very same spot where Pwyll first encountered the splendid Rhiannon. The mist is equally mysterious but far less benign. It devastates the country, turning what had been some of the most verdant land on earth into a desolate waste. At first they are able to get by with what they can hunt, but Manawydan speaks of his unhappiness and urges them all to migrate to Lloegyr [England]. There they might support themselves in lucrative trades, starting with saddlemaking just across the border in Hereford. Within a short time the quartet is a raging success, turning out products of premium quality. Soon, none of the other saddlers have any business, and they rail against the Welsh intruders, threatening violence. Pryderi wants to stay and fight, but Manawydan cautiously advises retreat. And so the same pattern follows with the manufacture of shields and shoes: success, resentment, Pryderi arguing resistance, Manawydan counselling retreat. Weary of it all, the group returns to Dyfed and attempts again to live by hunting.
Myths and Legends of the Celts (Penguin Reference) Page 35