Preiddeu
Annwfyn stanza two.
The
second stanza begins with the poet declaring how much he is praised, and
although at first sight it seems a rather boastful introduction, it is the work
of ‘one of the cynfeiredd, or “first
poets”’. (Matthews) It
was by poetry and song that one gains immortality in this world, travelling the
centuries, not be forgotten; we only need to think of Shakespeare to see how
true that can be. Taliesin the poet and our guide, was not only alluded to by
many other Welsh medieval poets; but his
fame carries on down till our present time, as our examination bears witness.
Into the
revolving fortress
The
‘Four-square fort’ which in turn revolves four times, appears to be the source
of the song. According to Matthews a
revolving fort is not an isolated phenomenon, it appears that Cú Rói Mac
Daire’s fort revolves every night after dark, so that no one can ‘find the
gateway the next day’. A place that not
all could enter is a fitting place for our guide to be placed, of course to
join him we too need to find the way in. We need all the awareness our
faculties can muster as nothing remains the same for very long.
Its revolving four times could, be, as
suggested by Matthews, the four seasons, or perhaps time itself as the stars
move across the sky returning to the beginning, and revolving again. However,
Matthews also points to something I find very interesting in relation to
the turning, which is to consider the image of the mill. ‘Mills and turning
towers fulfil the purpose of processing whatever is within them, and they often
appear in Celtic myth as a place of assimilation or of after-death purgatorial
refinement.’ So let’s for now look to
the castle as a mill-like revolving fortress, which over time changes those within.
Not everyone can get into this place as the way in changes frequently. No one
can tell someone else how to get there, one has to get there on one’s own;
however we can say, ‘look over there’.
Isn't it interesting that we now as we approach our second leg of the journey we have the numbers 1, (in the journey) which is 7 (of those
who return) 3(in the ship loads) and now 4 in the castle and it’s revolutions.
For
our present purpose; although the number 4 can have many meanings, we can see
the four as the stations of death on the way to re-birth. We begin at the summer
solstice, with the young king who surrenders his life. The next revolution; the place of the first
harvest; the compass mill, oh how it turns. The next castle is in the land
under the sea, and the fourth turn will takes us toward the castle of the underworld. All these castles are part of the greater
mill or revolving castle, which turn within turns, we are just about to turn
again.
And what of the Cauldron?
However to many the
most outstanding portion of this stanza relates to the cauldron; this is no
ordinary kitchen cauldron , and as we
can see looking to the footnotes of the Higley
where famed Cauldrons are
noted. The Cauldron of Cerridwen , the source of Gwion Bach’s transformation;
the Cauldron owned by Matholwch, King of
Ireland, which brought slain warriors back to life, a battle in which none but
7 returned discussed in relation to the first stanza.
Now we have a Cauldron from which the drops of
inspiration come, and from whence the “foremost utterance”; those original
words of inspiration arise; however this Cauldron when in the wrong hands wreaks havoc, and
eventually warranted destruction.
What is the nature of this
cauldron? It is interesting to look for
a moment to the words of Evan John Jones
in The Star Crossed Serpent p62 linking
the cauldron to the chalice. ‘The cup or chalice as a sacred vessel has
many esoteric connections with the Divine Feminine. Symbolising the Mother’s Womb,
it is the Cauldron of Inspiration, the magic vessel of several Northern
European myths found within the halls of the Castle of the Pale Faced Goddess.
Traditionally guarded by Nine Maidens (sometimes seven), it seethes with wisdom
of all ages. But to gain this knowledge we must succumb to gestation trials
within the shelter of the womb, followed by the birthing trauma both on
physical and spiritual levels.’
So we have a cauldron which
can give birth to our desires, which can
be wisdom for the mystery seekers, inspiration for the poets, and death for the
dealers in carnage, however we still need courage to get to it.
Who warms the cauldron?
As has been hinted at in the
words of Evan John Jones, it is by the breath of nine maidens that the cauldron
is warmed. These Nine maidens become
very intriguing, and nine is a an
interesting number in itself, but I can’t help be drawn to the Nine who
according Geoffrey of Monmouth’s Vita
Merlini, who dwelt on the Isle of
Avalon. These sisters appear to be three times three as Morgen, (not yet of le Fay fame) Moronoe, Mazoe; Glitzen, Glitonea, Gliton;
Tyronoe, Thiten and Thilton, this is a
topic in itself worth exploration.
Matthews adds something
interesting to the pot, ‘Breath was
considered to be akin to the power of the soul, able to give life. Absence of
breath was death. Isadore of Seville’s Etymologies, a source familiar to the
composer of the Preiddeu Annwyfn, tells us ‘Soul (anima) takes its name for the
pagans, on the assumption that it is wind – hence wind is called animos in
Greek, because we tend to stay alive by drawing air into the mouth.’
Inspiration is kindled by the
breath, wind, or animos of nine, or
three times three. Staying with the
number nine, we will look in greater depth at a later stage how our nine
knots, kindled by the wind, can warm the cauldron.
It is easy to become aware of
other nines of significance, one such
nine comes to mind as the nine hazels growing over the Well of Segais, dropping
the nuts of wisdom into the well,
which the salmon then ate and
became marked; these nine again are the
guardians of wisdom.
Whose Cauldron is it?
Back to the
cauldron, the object of our quest; it appears that the Cauldron belongs to the
King of the underworld, its rich adornment defines its regal stature. This also
shines a light on the point that ‘it will not boil the coward’s portion.’ As we
know from tales of old, the hero’s portion was the best part, saved for the
King or Queens champion. So this Cauldron is of royal status, and will only
feed those brave enough to be one of the champions and are then invited along
to dine at the King’s table.
Who takes the Cauldron?
To find the identity of those
mentioned in the next two lines we need to look elsewhere.
First we see ‘The sword
of Lleawc’ which may refer to the
qualities of the sword rather than a person of that name. The name of this sword, according to Loomis
in the footnotes to the Higley text
points to ‘two separate adjectives,
“flashing” and “death dealing” or “lightning and slaughter”, Graves calls this
sword, ‘bright’ ‘flashing’. This makes
sense when we take into account that in many tales of Arthur, swords were given names, especially those
owned by the King himself. So this
particular sword was not just any old sword, but one of fame (like Excalibur).
Now this sword is wielded by
the hand of Lleminawc. Even though we cannot be sure of the identity of this
person, it is worth considering that a certain, Llwch Llawwynnyawc, or ‘windy
hand’, also called Llenlleawc or Llen Lleawc is mentioned in the tale of Culhwch and Olwen as a warrior amongst Arthur’s men who kills a
Giant Dwrnach with Arthur’s sword, to
enable the theft of the Cauldron. There does appears to be a significant link between sword and
wielder, and it becomes easy to see how a sword, in the hand of a skilled
warrior, one who has the right to the food from the cauldron, becomes one in
intent and action.
However, trying to name the
person who stole the cauldron may be a bit of a lapwing. And we need to take on
board the suggestion that there may be scribal errors in this section of the
poem as to the identity of the person with the sword. Understandably, when one considers there was
no standard spelling in that era, confusion as to spelling may result. So let
us not get too caught up with identity of this person at present, but look at what
this passage reveals.
Interesting to note that-
According to Matthews’ the name
Lleminawc means ‘leaper’ which was a
title given to ‘Mab Darogan (son of destiny), the messianic Welsh leader who
would one day overcome the English yoke.’ Higley points to Haycock, who
suggests that the ‘leaping one’ ‘may be another epithet for Arthur’, if not
specifically, it appears to point to a great leader, one who has to power to
release those in captivity.
To recapitulate, many went
with Arthur ‘to the harrowing’, but none but seven returned from Caer Feddwit;
(Matthews translation) the castle of
mead drunkenness. Therefore it does appear, from what we have just considered,
that Taliesin the poet, in his condition of inspiration; is with Arthur. They
have the cauldron which was gained by wielding an otherworldly sword, within
the halls of the underworld.
As with any successful raid,
then follows a celebration, as this fort or Caer is the fortress of mead
drunkenness, or to broaden the term, ‘intoxication’. Who can keep their wits about them from the
feasting hall of the king of the underworld? Only the seven are able to return.
