'You puny people cannot hold me,' he cried, but he was wrong. The people flung the stout chains soaked in holy water around the Devil and pulled them tight. Still the Devil roared with laughter. The two huge oxen, known as Dau ychain Banawg, bought down from the mountain Wan Banawg, were yoked to the chains. The powerful beasts dragged the Devil from the churchyard. He lay in the road kicking and screaming.
'I will have my revenge on you,' he cried. The Devil was chained to the sledge made of tree trunks and more chains were tied to the evil demon, to make sure he was held fast. The women greased the tree trunks with pig fat to help the sledge move. Slowly, the huge beasts began to drag the Devil away. The oxen strained every sinew as the evil load shuddered and jolted along the track. The people pulled the chains and pushed the sledge to help it on its way while the Devil cursed and shouted foul insults with every step.
After hours of toil the Devil and his captors reached a lake on Hiraethog Mountain but they did not stop. The two oxen, known as Dau ychain Banawg, and the sledge with its evil load, kept on going and marched slowly into the water. They were never seen again. The people named the lake Llyn y Ddau Ychain (The Lake of the Two Oxen) in honour of the brave beasts that perished that day.
Today, the lake is part of Alwen Reservoir but, if you look closely at the track, you can still see the ruts cut as the sledge took the Devil to his watery resting place.
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Chapter 7?The Death of Arthur
It was the winter of life. Camelot was no more and the high ideals of valour and courage were nothing more than tales told by old men to eager children. Arthur, King of Briton, old and tired now, had vanished. The Knights of the round-table were dispersed across Europe, searching for the Holy Grail. Darkness and evil percolated the land.
Arthur's evil son Mordred wanted the throne and, after years of searching, his spies finally located Arthur and sent word to the usurper. Arthur was at the city of Tregalan, hidden in Cwm Tregalan in the Kingdom of Gwynedd, with just a small retinue of men led by ever-faithful Sir Bedevere.
Mordred was eager to claim the crown and had no love for his father. He gathered his army and marched on Snowdonia to seize power. Errant knights and outlaws of every kind flocked to Mordred's banner, greedy for plunder and the spoils of war. As they advanced, Mordred's army pillaged and burned. Word reached Arthur of the advancing throng and, old as he was, he knew that he had to give battle. Mordred had to be stopped.
A weary Arthur gathered together his small band of warriors, mainly old knights and boys and rode out to meet Mordred in mortal combat. Expecting Arthur, Mordred sent archers to hide in the mountains with orders to let Arthur by while the rest of Mordred's army camped at Pen y Pass. His plan was to trap Arthur between Llyn Llydaw and Yr Wyddfa (Mount Snowdon) and kill every man with him. He wanted no survivors to talk of heroism or martyrs.
It was a cold damp winter morning as Arthur and his men marched down the valley past Llyn Llydaw to confront Mordred's army by the bank of Llyn Teyrn. The battle was fierce and no quarter was given. Men that fell wounded were slain. Outnumbered, Arthur's small band was forced to retreat. Slowly they fell back along the valley towards Mount Snowdon leaving a trail of dead as they went.
As they pressed on, Mordred's soldiers tripped and fell over their fallen comrades. Friend and foe alike sank into the slimy mud. The battle raged throughout the day until it was nearly dark and a damp mist enveloped the exhausted men. Still they fought. Now Arthur had just a few men left. They were trapped below the great mountain, Snowdon. Sensing victory, Mordred pushed his way to the front of the fight. He saw Arthur, bloody and wounded, surrounded by his enemies. Hatred and greed filled Mordred's heart and he charged at Arthur, eager to kill his own father.
Arthur raised his sword, Excalibur, and with a mighty blow cleaved Mordred's head from his body. As Mordred fell, a flight of arrows rained down on Arthur and, clutching his sword, he fell to the ground. The archers, hidden at Bwlch y Saethau (The Pass of Arrows) behind Arthur and his men, had done their evil work.
Without a leader, Mordred's army had no cause and the fighting quickly stopped. Loyal Sir Bedevere helped Arthur from the battlefield and listened as the dying King whispered his last command.
'Take Excalibur and throw it far into the lake,' croaked Arthur. Sir Bedevere took the King's sword to throw it into Llyn Llydaw, but he could not. Twice he returned to Arthur asking the King to keep the mighty blade and twice Arthur commanded him to throw it into the lake. Finally overcome with grief Sir Bedevere cast Excalibur far into the lake. As he watched, the water parted and a silky white hand emerged holding aloft the sword that had been Arthur's symbol of authority and strength since the day he had pulled it from the stone. Slowly the hand and the sword submerged into the copper green water.
Sir Bedevere looked back at his King. Arthur was dead. It was dark now and a fine rain was falling. Silently, a boat glided across the lake out of the darkness. In it sat three maidens dressed in black velvet. Torches flared and spluttered in the damp. They carefully placed Arthur's body in the funeral barge and, without a sound or a spoken word, the maidens, the boat and Arthur glided into the darkness and the otherworld.
Quietly, Sir Bedevere and the few remaining men who had fought so valiantly climbed Mount Lliwedd and vanished from history. There they remain, deep in the mountain, waiting for Arthur to return from the green waters of Llyn Llydaw, ready to lead them once again.
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Chapter 8?Prince Idwal
At the beginning of the 12th Century the Kingdom of Gwynedd was ruled by Owain ap Cynan. King Owain, whose royal title was Owain Gwynedd, had nineteen sons but the fairest, by far, was Prince Idwal. The other princes raced each other, played rough games of war and grew strong. Idwal however, was not like his boisterous brothers. He would sit for hours quietly reading or listening to the court musicians as they practiced. Sometimes he would wander alone in the gardens admiring flowers and singing sweet melodies.
Owain realised that Idwal would never be a warrior and that saddened him but as the boy grew his father saw that he was intelligent and kind to all. The King admired Idwal's perfect features and placid temperament. Some called the boy weak but the King was proud of Idwal.
When the King of Powys attacked the Kingdom of Gwynedd, men were called to arms to drive off the invader. Eager to prove their strength in battle, the King's sons pleaded with their father to go to war. The king agreed since it was their duty, as royal princes, to earn their place with deeds of bravery in battle. But what, the King wondered, should he do with Idwal?
'Send him to Nefydd Hardd,' suggested a courtier. 'Nefydd is a great musician and will teach Idwal to play the harp.'
'Where does Nefydd Hardd live?' asked the King.
'High in the mountains by Llyn Ogwen. No harm will come to Idwal there,' replied the courtier. Nefydd Hardd was a 'Gentleman' and leader of one of the fifteen noble tribes of Wales. The King agreed to the plan and Idwal was sent to the house of Nefydd Hardd, high in the mountains, where he would be safe from the King's enemies. Nefydd Hardd greeted Idwal and introduced Dunawt, his son, to the royal guest.
'You will be brothers. I will educate you together,' he cried and squeezed Idwal's hand. Idwal took well to the music and poetry lessons from his new tutor. Each day the young men sat together as Nefydd Hardd instructed them. Idwal learned quickly but Dunawt, who was slow witted, struggled. Nefydd Hardd, which means 'Nefydd the Beautiful' in English, was a vain man. Often, he had boasted to his friends how clever his son, Dunawt, was and sung in praise of the boy's good looks.
'He will grow up to be as brilliant and good looking as me,' he said. But, as he watched the two boys together, he grew envious of Idwal's handsome face and resentful of Idwal's sharp mind. Only a fool could fail to see that Dunawt was a plain, stupid oaf by comparison and Nefydd Hardd was no fool.
As the weeks passed, Nefydd Hardd grew to despise the royal prince sheltering under his roof and his
dull son grew jealous of their visitor. Idwal could feel the jealousy and hatred but being a kindly youth with no malice in him, responded with courtesy and compassion. Prince Idwal's good manners infuriated Nefydd Hardd and his son even more. One dark afternoon Nefydd Hardd sent for his son.
'Dunawt, you should take Prince Idwal for a walk. Show him the lake at the head of the valley,' said Nefydd Hardd.
'But Father, it will be dark soon and there are storm clouds on the mountain,' replied Dunawt.
'Take Idwal to the ridge above the lake but be careful that you don't slip. The path can be dangerous when it's wet,' said Nefydd Hardd.
Dunawt looked at his father. The old man was grinning.
'And, what if Prince Idwal slips and falls into the lake?' He asked.
'That would be a terrible accident, which would be no one's fault,' replied his father. It had started to rain as the two young men left the house. Dunawt marched ahead.
'Come on,' he cried. 'There is something I want you to see.' Price Idwal followed behind, the rain streaming down his face. They walked around the lake towards the mountain. Their legs sank deep into the soft peat. Dunawt strode on into the gathering gloom. When they reached a narrow ledge he stopped.
'Here it is, look,' he yelled. Prince Idwal hurried to join his companion.
'What is it?' asked the Prince looking around.
'See the lake below, it's your destiny,' laughed Dunawt and shoved the Prince off the ledge. Prince Idwal screamed as he fell into the lake but the wind snatched the sound from his lips and carried the plaintive cry up into the mountains. Dunawt walked back to the house alone.
King Owain returned from the war and searched for his son but Prince Idwal's body was never found. He suspected foul play but had no proof that Nefydd Hardd or his son Dunawt had murdered the prince. Even so, he seized Nefydd Hardd's lands and banished him and his son, Dunawt, from the kingdom.
The evil pair never admitted the crime but, in 1170, when King Owain Gwynedd died, Rhun ap Nefydd Hardd, younger brother of Dunawt, returned to Gwynedd and built a church at Llanrwst in penitence for the foul murder done by his family.
Today the lake where Prince Idwal drowned is named after him and, it is said, that no bird will fly across the water where the evil deed was done. Sometimes, when the wind blows from the west you can hear the echo of the young prince's scream as he fell into the icy water.
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Chapter 9?Prince Madoc Sails to America
In memory of Prince Madoc, a Welsh explorer, who landed on the shores
of Mobile Bay in 1170 and left behind, with the Indians, the Welsh language.
Plaque erected in Mobile, Alabama, USA in 1953
Prince Madoc was the son of Owain Gwynedd, King of Gwynedd. The King, not content with just two wives, the maximum allowed according to Welsh law at that time, also kept four mistresses. He sired nineteen sons many of whom, including Madoc, were illegitimate. According to custom, all the children were openly acknowledged as the King's. When the King died in 1169, rivalries between his sons eager to take the throne quickly escalated into open warfare.
Being illegitimate, Prince Madoc was not a contender for the crown and, unwilling to take sides in the increasingly bloody fights, he resolved to escape from Wales. Two stout ships were fitted out ready for a voyage. The Gorn Gwynant and the Pedr Sant had been built from sturdy oak trees hewn from the forest of Nant Gwynant. Prince Madoc had sailed in them before and was a skilled navigator already famous for his adventures.
The prince was a popular leader and men were eager to crew his ships. The ships departed from a jetty on the River Ganol, now Rhos on Sea, and set sail west. They stopped at Lundy Island where Prince Rhirid, one of Prince Madoc's brothers, joined them. From Lundy the two vessels sailed on past Ireland, steering steadily west heading for the edge of the known world.
The fight for the throne of Gwynedd continued. Owain's designated son and heir, Hywel ab Owain Gwynedd, fell at the battle of Pentraeth, killed by his half brothers Dafydd and Rhodri. The war continued and other brothers were killed in battle or murdered until only Dafydd and Rhodri remained strong enough to claim the crown. Eventually, the kingdom was divided between Dafydd and Rhodri and an uneasy peace was established. Another generation would pass before the Kingdom of Gwynedd was finally reunified under Llyweln the Great.
Prince Madoc had almost been forgotten when, years later, he returned with a strange tale to tell. The Prince had crossed a great ocean to a distant land. A land inhabited by friendly people with dark skins who welcomed him and his crew. A land where, if you were hungry, you just had to reach up and pluck sweet fruits from the trees. He told of rivers that were full of fish and great plains covered with herds of huge beasts the natives called buffalo.
Some of the prince's crew had remained behind in the strange land and Prince Madoc announced, at once, that he would return across the great ocean to join his men. He invited others, who might want to start a new life, to come. Ten ships were prepared and quickly filled, ready for the long voyage. Once more, Prince Madoc sailed away to the west.
After a long and dangerous journey, they landed at a place we now call Mobile, Alabama. From Mobile, the ships travelled inland along mighty rivers. Mandan Indians guided the Welshmen. The settlers built forts to protect themselves against unfriendly Indians. They taught their Indian guides to speak Welsh and how to fish, using coracles. The Welshmen took native wives and, over the years, the Mandan and the Welshmen merged to become one tribe.
Prince Madoc never returned to Wales but there is ample evidence of his arrival in America. In 1608 explorer Peter Wynne discovered a tribe in Virginia calling themselves Monacan Indians and wrote that they spoke 'Welch'. In 1669 Reverend Morgan Jones was captured by a tribe called the Doeg. When he conversed with them in Welsh they understood his meaning. He stayed with the Doeg for several months before being released and returning to the British colonies. In 1799 Governor John Sevier of Tennessee reported the discovery of six skeletons wearing brass armour bearing the Welsh coat of arms.
A mound and stone fortification called the'Devil's Backbone' exists fourteen miles unpstream from Louisville, Kentucky built about the same time as Prince Madoc arrived using a design similar to castles that existed in North Wales. Cherokee Indian tradition refers to a tribe of 'fair skinned moon eyed' people, known as Modoc, who built a stone castle on Fort Mountain, Georgia. In 1832 German ethnologist, Prince Maximilian of Wied-Neuwied, travelled up the Missouri River and across the Great Plains. He studied the Mandan language and made a comparison list of common Welsh and Mandan words. In 1841, the painter George Catlin painted Mandan Indians fishing using a round boat referred to as a 'Bull Boat'. Its design was the same as the Welsh coracle.
Other evidence exists, including DNA and radio carbon dating, to support the fact that Prince Madoc discovered and settled in America more than 300 years before Christopher Columbus arrived. In 1738 French traders visited nine Mandan villages along the Heart River containing 15,000 inhabitants. The Mandan had become a great Indian nation and had prospered and spread up into the Great Plains of America.
Sadly, in 1837, the Mandan Indian tribe was infected with smallpox by the crew of a visiting boat. The disease tore through the nation and only 125 Mandan survived the epidemic. The United States government then merged the Mandan with other Indian tribes and the last full blooded Mandan died in 1971. How much of Prince Madoc's Welsh blood ran in his veins we shall never know.
The plaque commemorating the voyage of Prince Madoc was damaged by a hurricane in 1979 and removed, for safe keeping, by the US military. Since then, the Alabama Welsh Society has been campaigning for it to be replaced, in its original position, in honour of the first European to discover America.
'I have dwelt longer on the history and customs of these people than I have or shall on any other tribe... because I have found them a very peculiar people. From the striking peculiarities in their personal appearance, in their customs,
traditions, and language, I have been led conclusively to believe that they are a people of a decidedly different origin from that of any other tribe in these regions.'
George Catlin 1796 - 1872
American Artist.
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Chapter 10?Maelgwn Gwynedd and the Yellow Eye
'... you the last I write of but the first and greatest in evil, more than many in ability but also in malice, more generous in giving but also more liberal in sin, strong in war but stronger to destroy your soul ...'.
De Excidio et Conquestu Britanniae
On the Ruin and conquest of Britain.
A sermon by St. Gildas (500-570AD)
Maelgwn Gwynedd, also known as Maelgwn Hir, (Maelgwn the Tall) was the King of Gwynedd. He was a ruthless and ambitious man and had seized the throne from his uncle. Even after he became King of Gwynedd, his ambition was not satisfied, for there were three other kingdoms in Wales. Maelgwn was a jealous man. He wanted to be more powerful than the other kings. He wanted them all to pay homage to him.
He invited the other kings to meet him on the sands of Aberdovey and to bring their thrones with them. There would be feasting and games, said the invitation. Maelgwn told them that they would be treated as honoured guests. The kings accepted the tempting offer and journeyed from across the land with their retainers. A great tent, filled with carpets and tables laden with silver platters loaded with food, was erected on the beach. Men at arms lined the shore, their weapons sparkling in the sunshine. Royal banners fluttered gaily in the breeze. Trumpeters welcomed the visitors and fine words of greeting were exchanged between them.
The thrones were carried into the tent and the feast began. The kings chatted gaily. All agreed that the food and wines were fit for kings. Slowly, so as not to be obvious, Maelgwn turned the conversation to address a question. Which of the four kings was the most senior? The kings could not agree. One said they were equal, another claimed he was Chief King. The debate grew heated and the kings began to argue.
Legends and Myths from North Wales Page 3