The key to understanding exactly when and how this British dynasty split off into a Saxon Wessex comes from a close inspection of the early sources surrounding the Kingdom of Hwicce. As we shall see this will yield some interesting conclusions about the origins of the royal dynasty of Mercia.

The Diocese of Worcester is referred to as “diocesis Hwicciorum” in an 8^th century episcopal grant and so the two territories are generally considered coterminous thus Hwicce was comprised of Gloucestershire, Worcestershire and some parts of neighbouring counties. Importantly it included the Roman cities of Gloucester and Cirencester which was the capital of the province of Brittania Prima (roughly Wales) and Civitas Dobunnorum. We know from an inscription on a milestone from Magnis (Kenchester) that the Civitas Dobunnorum also included the neighbouring territory called variously “Magonsaete”/ “Heechan”/ “Western Hecani”/ “Westerna” which was coterminous with the Diocese of Herefordshire. As mentioned earlier Heechan was most likely originally a Sub-Kingdom of Hwicce. Both of these Sub-Kingdoms are nearly always mentioned in documents such as land grants and charters as subordinate to the Kingdom of Mercia.

Following the work of Coates “Hwicce” is “a Brittonic name consisting of the ancestor of Modern Welsh gwych ‘excellent’ with the positive prefix hy-, i.e. something like ‘the most excellent’”. Similarly following Koch “Heechan” is from the same Brythonic prefix “hy-” coupled with “echen” meaning “lineage” thus “the best lineage”. The similarity in naming conventions between Hywych (“most excellent”) and Hyechen (“best lineage”) reinforces the idea these are in some sense sister Sub-Kingdoms of the former Dobunni or Sub-Kingdoms within Ceredic’s greater imperium of Glewising.

Bede writing about Saint Augustine in the year 603 says he “summoned the bishops and teachers of the neighbouring British kingdom to a conference… ...on the borders of the Hwicce and the West Saxons.” This clearly implies that Hwicce was still considered a British Kingdom that bordered Wessex at this time. Furthermore in order to represent the interests of the entire insular British church it must have been considered one of the most powerful British Kingdoms. This makes sense given it contained Gloucester-Cirencester, the power centre of Britannia Prima. Henry of Huntingdon confirms this in his account of the same event referring to Hwicce as “the largest and nearest province of the Britons”. Bede identifying Hwicce as a British territory in 603 is in direct contradiction to the ASC entry for the year 577 mentioned earlier in which Ceawlin (Caw) captured Hwicce killing and displacing Cynheiddon ruler of Cirencester and Cynfael ruler of Gloucester. A careful look at the events between the years 577, 603 and beyond will reconcile this contradiction whilst also pinpointing how a factional split within the British Gewis-Glewis aristocracy lead to the rise of the royal dynasties of both Wessex and Mercia.

The HB tells us that Penda was “the first to separate the kingdom of the Mercians from the kingdom of the Northumbrians”. In other words Penda was the first of his lineage to rule Mercia by taking it from the rule of Northumbrian kings. This pre-Penda Northumbrian overlordship of Mercia is confirmed by the “Tribal Hidage” tribute list. Following the conclusions of Higham this list was compiled for Edwin King of Northumbria in 626. It is further confirmed by Bede who tells us Penda became overlord of Mercia in 633 as a direct result of supporting Cadwallon “King of the Britons” in a battle killing Edwin. The ASC tells us that Penda was king of an unspecified domain from 626. If Penda only gained overlordship of Mercia in 633 he must have ruled some other kingdom from 626. The ASC entry for 628 tells us the Kings of Wessex “fought with Penda at Cirencester, and afterwards entered into a treaty there”. It has been deduced from later sources that this was a victory for Penda (Hwicce is only mentioned as a Sub-Kingdom attached to Mercia from this date). We will discuss Penda’s rise to power alongside Cadwallon in more detail later. In summary Penda was an active ruler in Hwicce from 626-628 before gaining overlordship of Mercia in 633.

This suspicion that Penda was originally a ruler in Hwicce before conquering Mercia is reinforced by an excellent place name study by Graham Jones. Jones compiled a large corpus of “Place-names containing personal names associated with those of early Mercian kings” namely Peada, Penda, Eowa, Pybba and Creoda. As illustrated in the figure below the glaring conclusion of this study is that the “distribution of names… ...concentrated… ...particularly in and around the territory of the Hwicce.”

This evidence confirms the suggestion (from HB, Bede and ASC) that Penda and his predecessors were based primarily in Hwicce until Penda took control of Mercia by conquest alongside Cadwallon “king of the Britons” in 633. Penda’s ancestors such as Pybba and Creoda were evidently present in Hwicce during the strange period when it was conquered by Ceawlin in 577 but reverting to an unambiguously non-Wessex British identity by 603. Penda is often portrayed as a bulwark of Anglian Pagan identity whilst simultaneously holding an unparalleled special relationship with the Christian Britons. These two contradictory characteristics seem counter intuitive. Both claims will be analysed in detail later.

Cerdic and other members of the Gewisse possessing Brythonic names is well known, but as Jones summarises, most scholars believe Penda and his family also had Brythonic names. The multiple -a ending forms (Creoda, Pybba, Penda, Peada, Eowa etc) indicate hypocorism and as Padel suggests “might have begun as Brittonic epithets, not personal names, which were borrowed, shortened hypocoristically by the English and turned into personal names, their derivation from Brittonic ‘soon lost to sight for both Brittonic and English speakers’”. Analysing each name in turn reveals the most likely Brythonic root whether epithets or personal names. As outlined earlier Creoda/ Cryda/ Crida is either a Brythonic name in its own right derived from “cred” meaning “faith” or more likely a corrupt form of Welsh Saint Cwrda itself a hypocoristic form of “Cawrdaf”. Pybba is more difficult but a derivation from the Brythonic “pybyr” meaning “strong, mighty or brave” is most widely supported. It is used as both an epithet for example the Mabinogi figure “Gronw Pybyr” but also as a personal name as in an obscure pedigree “Pybyr ap Caper” (ABT 22). One Welsh spelling of the name “Pyd” could arguably preserve a more accurate form which makes the common Brythonic name “Pedr” a possibility. It may even be Pedr was his personal name and Pybyr his epithet, but for now “Pybyr” as a personal name is tentatively accepted. One Welsh spelling of Penda is “Panna” which is attested elsewhere in the anonymous Life of Cuthbert as “Penna” belonging to a British priest (discussed in a forthcoming article). This tells us that it is most likely a Brythonic personal name not an epithet. Most spellings agree that the first element is the Brythonic “pen” meaning “head” or “chief” and the second element begins with a “d”. Padel suggests a hypocorism of “penndav” meaning “chiefmost”. Sims-Williams suggests the second element is proto-Celtic “dagos” meaning “good” attested in continental names such as “Ollodagus”. The Welsh form of “dagos” is simply “da” which would make “Pen” + “da” neatly mean “Good Chief”. Neither of these is very convincing as a full personal name. I would suggest the Mabinogi attested personal name “Pendaran”. The second element “daran” or “taran” is attested in its own right as a personal name “Glinneu ail Taran” (“Glinneu a second Taran”) or in the name of the deity “Taranis”. Common Welsh phrases “mellt a tharanau” (lightening and thunder) or “taranfollt“ (thunderbolt) reveal “taran” means “thunder”. The other element used in these phrases “fellt” or “mellt” meaning lightening bolt is also attested in the Brythonic name “Rhiainfellt” meaning “Princess of Lightening”. I believe “Penda” is a hypocorism of “Pendaran” with a similar meaning “Chief of Thunder” which is an appropriate name for the warlord. The Brythonic spelling “Pantha” in HB and Annales Cambriae is compatible with Welsh element “tharan” where “dagos” isn’t. “Peada” or sometimes spelled “Pada” (Peada is likely an a-mutation of Pada) is also difficult to interpret but may be a hypocorism of commonly used Brythonic “Padarn” a borrowing from Latin “Paternus” meaning “Father”. “Eowa” is another unique name where the Old English “eowa” for “ewe” meaning “female sheep” is a somewhat unlikely name for a king. Jones links the place name “Evenlode” to Eowa where historical forms in early charters of Offa and Edgar include “Eowenland” and “Eowengelade”. Clearly the first element “Eowen” corresponds to the common Brythonic name “Owen”, “Ewen” or “Owain”. In addition to these well known figures we have the lesser known Merewalh, Penwalh and Cenwalh. The second element in each name “walh” or “wealh” is the same root as the word “Welsh” essentially meaning “Briton”. There has been much discussion about the interpretation of this element in Old English names but Koch offers the best solution. As we will discuss later Koch identifies “Merewalh” with a figure from Welsh poetry called “Morfael”. Koch suggests the name begins Early Medieval Brythonic “Mormail” (modern “Morfael”) where the second element has the International Phonetic Alphabet spelling “μail” producing an initial “v” or “w” sound “and that OE Merewalh results from an Anglicizing reinterpretation”. Looking at the historical spelling variations of the similar name “Arthfael” (Arthmail/ Arthuael/ Arthvael/ Arthwael) shows how the second element “wael” could easily be interpreted as equivalent to OE “wealh”. This gives us the Brythonic names Morfael (Great Prince), Penfael (Chief Prince) and Cynfael (Hound Prince).

Jones notes that the pre-Cryda names in the Mercian pedigree such as Cnebba and Icel have a radically different place name distribution concentrated in the south east of England writing “the geographical contrast… ...is mirrored by a philological distinction between the Germanic origins of the personal names Icel, Cnebba, Cynewald and Guthlac, and the possible Celtic influences (Penda, Cryda etc)”. This clear geographical and philological difference strongly suggests the pre-Cryda names are late interpolations added to the Mercian pedigrees to provide a suitable Germanic origin story obscuring a politically inconvenient one.

Before we have a closer look at the uncertain ancestry prior to Cryda a brief summary of the British characteristics of Penda and his family is in order. They possessed Brythonic names; ruled the early British kingdom of Hwicce before conquering Mercia. Penda is the latest entry in a document called “Englynion y Beddau” (EyB) (“Stanzas of the Graves”) that lists the final resting places of British heroes. In one version he is named as Penda but in another he is strangely called Rhun: “The grave of Rhun/ Penda ap Pyd in the horror of a river”. “Rhun” is either a mistake; a preservation of his real personal name if Penda is an epithet or two separate entries with “Rhun” being an otherwise unattested brother of Penda. Whatever the answer Penda must have been considered a Briton in some sense to be listed at all. There is no recorded hostility between Penda and the Britons where there is recorded hostility between Penda and most English kingdoms. As we shall see Penda was effectively installed as a ruler by Cadwallon “King of the Britons” and his subsequent closest allies were a series of British kings e.g. Cadafael, Cynddylan etc. He is portrayed in “Marwnad Cynddylan” and the HB as a kind of High King of the Britons: “Oswy delivered all the riches that he had in the city into the hand of Penda, and Penda distributed them to the kings of the British, that is the ‘Distribution of ludeu’”. This role arguably makes Penda a direct successor to Cadwallon. The heartland of Penda’s territory in the West Midlands has hardly any Pagan Anglo-Saxon burials but plentiful evidence of British Christianity (we will discuss the strong association Penda has with Paganism later). Even as late as the 8^th century and as far east as Lincolnshire the Mercian aristocracy were bilingual. The “Life of Saint Guthlac” tells us Guthlac was son of Penwalh (“Chief Briton” or Brythonic “Chief Prince”) of unspecified Mercian royal stock, maybe a descendant of Penda’s brother Cynwalh if a repeating name element was passed down. Guthlac “realized that British hosts were approaching his dwelling: for in years gone by he had been an exile among them, so that he was able to understand their sibilant speech”. Even the Old English name “Mercia” meaning “border people” implies an emergence from the Anglo-British interface between two interacting peoples. Koch commenting on some of this evidence writes it implies “either that Mercia was ruled by a Germanic family heavily influenced by Brythonic culture and/or intermarrying with Brythonic kin-groups, or that the Mercian kingdom was essentially a Brythonic entity which adopted Germanic speech and Anglian identity.”

As previously deduced the pre-Cryda names in the early Mercian pedigree are probably late interpolations. It is therefore of critical importance to determining the origin of Mercia to identify the real ancestors of Cryda. The only clues we have to go on are a floruit of roughly 575 (Penda’s floruit beginning 626 minus two generations of 25 years each) and a base of operation somewhere in and around Hwicce. There is only one obviously compatible candidate. The ASC records the death of a Cryda alongside Ceawlin in 593 in the wake of the battle of “Woddesbeorg” fought between the Britons of Hwicce and kings of Wessex. This “Cryda” isn’t clearly identified but the entry does tell use he was a generational contemporary of Ceawlin, with a roughly 575 floruit, and operating around Hwicce which matches our requirements. This is the same Cryda discussed earlier that is associated with the Gewisse.

The ASC records the death of Cutha at the battle of Fethanleag in 584. Henry of Huntingdon (HoH) records this same event but adds “Crida, as far as we learn from old records, was the first king of Mercia… ...I have pointed out the dates and revolutions as clearly as I could from what we find in the books of ancient writers, bringing them into relation with the eras of the kings of Wessex.” Under the year 593 after the battle of Woddesbeorg HoH writes “Crida, king of Mercia, departed this life, and his son Pybba succeeded him.” Only HoH and a few other post-Conquest chroniclers explicitly equate the ASC Gewisse Cryda d.593 with Crida of Mercia. HoH may have had access to a Mercian regnal list with succession dates that lead to him equating Crida of Wessex and Crida of Mercia as the same individual. Even if the authority of HoH is doubted the “Mercian” Crida operating in Hwicce with a floruit of 575 is enough to suggest equating him with the ASC Gewisse Crida d.593 by itself. It is highly doubtful there were two separate Cryda’s operating in the Hwicce area at the same time therefore we can conclude they are the same individual.

There is much confusion surrounding the pedigree of Cryda. In some sources such as WSGRL and some versions of the ACP Cryda is made a son of Cerdic and father of Cynric but the most authoritative versions of ASC omit Cryda completely and make Cynric son of Cerdic. Another version of the ACP (Dumville labels as version “T”) makes Cryda son of Cynric (“Ceawlin Cynricing, Cynric Creoding, Creoda Cynricing, Cerdic Elesing”). This “Creoda Cynricing” is probably an error for “Creoda Cerdicing”. However taking “Creoda Cynricing” in isolation gives the only credible pedigree that places Cryda in the correct generation to be a grandfather to Penda and dying alongside Ceawlin in 593.

The Mercian pedigrees universally agree a “Cynewald” was father of Cryda. While this appears to be a straightforward Germanic name that we previously suspected to be an interpolation there is another possibility. HoH spells the name of the king of Wessex “Cenwalh” incorrectly with a “d” as “Kenwald”. Some versions of the Life of Saint Guthlac make the same mistake by spelling “Penwalh” as “Penwald”. Cryda has a documented grandson called “Cenwalh”, a brother of Penda. Given that names often recur in family dynasties it isn’t an unreasonable assumption that Cryda’s father is another instance of this common mistaken spelling of “Cynwalh” as “Cynwald”. As we have seen “Cenwalh” derives from the Brythonic “Cynfael”. The Cynfael ruler of Gloucester in Hwicce deposed by Ceawlin in 577 would then be another suitable candidate for the father of Cryda. As discussed Cynheiddon ruler of Cirencester was a son of Cynyr ap Caradog making the 577 conflict with Ceawlin son of Cynric son of Cerdic seem more like an internecine conflict. All these alliterative “C” names make it likely Cynfael ruler of Gloucester also belonged to the Glewis dynasty. It is tempting to speculate that this Cynfael was another son of Cerdic which would give us another intriguing component of the 577 civil war and place Cryda in the right time and place.

While fabricating or reconstructing a pedigree for Cryda (as son of Cynfael son of Cerdic) is tempting, it is far too speculative to make a strong case. As stated HoH writes that Cryda was made king in 584 after the death of Cutha in the same year. This implies he was heir to Cutha in some capacity, either his son or perhaps younger brother. The ASC tells us Cryda died alongside Ceawlin in 593 implying they roughly shared a floruit and had a close relationship. As Ceawlin (d.593) and Cutha (d.584) were themselves brothers, the combined implication is that Cryda had a fraternal relationship with both and was probably their younger brother. For this reason I favour the aforementioned ACP (T) entry “Creoda Cynricing”. It is clear later genealogists knew Cryda fitted in to the Gewisse family somewhere but were unable to accurately place him. Overall the evidence suggests Cryda was a son of Cynric and a younger brother to Ceawlin and Cutha. This Cryda was the progenitor of what became the Mercian royal dynasty as father to Pybba and grandfather to Penda. This conclusion that the Mercian royal dynasty originated as an offshoot of the Gewisse-Glewis in Hwicce may even further vindicate the oft doubted GoM who described the wife of Cadwallon and sister of Penda as “belonging to the noble line of the Gewisse”.

From Gewis-Glewis to Pagenses-Mercia

With these conclusions in mind we can now analyse the sequence of events comprising the internecine conflict within the Gewisse-Glewis dynasty. To recap, the ASC entry for 577 has brothers Ceawlin and Cutha depose Cynheiddon ruler of Cirencester and Cynfael ruler of Gloucester. This is normally taken as a West Saxon annexation of Hwicce but as Bede writes Hwicce was once again an independent British kingdom by 603. Evidently something strange happened during the intervening years (577-603). Cynheiddon is listed as a son of Cynyr ap Caradog in Welsh tradition and is thus suspected to actually be a brother of Ceawlin (son of Cynric son of Cerdic). Cynfael is probably also a member of the Gewisse-Glewis dynasty. This casts the events of 577 in a very different light. This wasn’t interethnic strife but internecine squabbling. This kind of fighting between close family members was not uncommon for example the split within the House of Wessex in which Aethelwald revolted against his cousin Edward the Elder; or in Northumbria Alhfrith rebelling against his own father Oswy. It is very likely Ceawlin and Cutha had a large number of upper Thames Valley Saxons composing their host. These were probably long standing federates, maybe even dating as far back as Vortigern’s time. Ceawlin and Cutha were probably Sub-Kings that became the predominant Gewisse-Glewis co-regents as a result of the 577 victory in Deorham.

In the year 584 the ASC says “Ceawlin and Cutha fought against the Britons at the place which is named Fethanleag, and Cutha was there slain; and Ceawlin took many towns, and countless booty; and wrathful he thence returned to his own.” It has been suggested “Fethanleag” can be identified with “Fethelee” in Stoke Lyne, Oxfordshire but this cannot be accepted as it lays well within Ceawlin’s existing core territory and wouldn’t represent any kind of expansion. A better identification is “Faddiley” near Chester, Cheshire.

As discussed above Cynan Garwyn shared descent from Cadell Deyrnllug with Ceawlin. They both fall in the same generation and shared roughly the same floruit 575-ish. Following Koch’s interpretation of the aforementioned 6^th century poem TCG Cynan was ruler of “Heechan” (Herefordshire). TGC portrays Cynan as a warlike ruler who raids many surrounding kingdoms but curiously never mentions any conflict with any Anglo-Saxon groups or Wessex controlled Hwicce on his south eastern border. This implies a non-hostile relationship with Ceawlin. TCG also makes clear that Cynan is in the process of invading the expansive “Cornouii”. As we will discuss later, it is clear Cynan must have successfully annexed “Cornouii” as his son Selyf is depicted as the dominant “King of the Britons” ruling a rebranded kingdom called “Powys” including the formerly Cornouii region. It seems likely that Cynan’s conquest of “Cornouii” was a campaign pushing northwards up the Severn valley fought in alliance with Ceawlin who “took many towns” after the battle of Faddiley near Chester. Cynan was probably a tributary Sub-King to Ceawlin and Hwicce at this time. HoH informs us that in the same year after the death of Cutha at Faddiley Cryda (Cutha’s younger brother) succeeded to rule. Based on the evidence previously outlined (Jones’ place name study etc) the territory Cryda ruled was Hwicce. While Ceawlin ruled over a large “imperium” as a “Bretwalda” including large swathes of Saxon territory, Cryda was a Sub-King of the predominantly British territory of Hwicce.

Most versions of the ASC record: in 591 “Ceol reigned for five years”; in 592 “there was a great slaughter at Wodnesbeorg, and Ceawlin was driven out” and in 593 “Ceawlin and… ...Crida perished”. These three entries are clearly related and there may be some minor confusion to the order of events, it should probably be rectified Ceol (son of Cutha) replaced Ceawlin after his death at the battle of Wodnesbeorg. ASC MS E adds that the slaughter at Wodnesbeorg happened “on Brytene”. A literal translation means “in Britain” but some have inferred that the great slaughter occurred *in the land of the Britons* (“on Brytene”) thus involving the Britons. William of Malmesbury (WoM) writing on these events says Ceawlin “was driven from his throne, and became a piteous spectacle to his enemies. Both nations had heard the trumpet call to vent their hate against him; English and Britons conspired together and cut his army to pieces at Wodnesdic; and in the thirty-first year he was deprived of his kingdom, went into exile, and forthwith died.” HoH also writing on these events says “Ceawlin died in the thirtieth year of his reign, and after him Ceol reigned five years… ...the Britons and Saxons fought a battle at Wodnesburie. The British army advanced in close order, after the Roman fashion, but the Saxons rushed forward with desperate, but disorderly, courage, and the conflict was very severe. God gave the victory to the Britons; and the Saxons, who commonly were as much superior to the Britons in fight, as they were slower in flight, suffered much in their retreat. After these times Crida, king of Mercia, departed this life, and his son Pybba succeeded him.”

When considering the information supplied to us by Bede that Hwicce was an independent British kingdom by 603 it is likely that the “Britons” were involved in this rebellion alongside Ceol against Ceawlin. This faction of “Britons” was probably just Ceawlin’s younger brother Cryda collaborating to install his nephew Ceol. It is probable Cynan Garwyn was also fighting alongside Cryda. Cryda and Ceawlin died on opposite sides of the battle of Wodnesbeorg (Adam’s Grave, Wiltshire). It is in this period during the 590s that a Saxon identity began to dominate in what became Wessex under Ceol whilst a British identity was retained in Hwicce under Pybba.

Bede writing about the period between 604-616 says “Osfrith and Eadfrith, sons of King Edwin, their mother being Cwenburh, daughter of Cearl, king of the Mercians; they were born while he was in exile”. This “Cearl” does not appear in any of the later Mercian pedigrees linked to the dynasty of Penda. There is no indication of Brythonic origins in the name Cearl or his named descendants. As Penda was the first of his line to rule Mercia from 633 it is likely Bede can be taken at face value and we can conclude “Cearl” was from an earlier Anglian dynasty in Mercia proper completely unrelated to Penda. HoH does claim Cearl was some kind of unspecified “kinsman” succeeding Pybba who allegedly died in 597 but both of these claims are spurious interpolations based on Bede. Pybba probably continued to rule Hwicce until 614 whilst Cearl was ruling Mercia.

Bede tells us further that Edwin “was being persecuted by his predecessor Aethelfrith, he wandered secretly as a fugitive for many years through many places and kingdoms, until at last he came to Raedwald and asked him for protection against the plots of his powerful persecutor.” Bede continues that Aethelfrith “sent messengers offering Raedwald large sums of money to put Edwin to death… ...and further threatening to make war on him if Raedwald despised his offer.” Edwin’s nephew Hereric was killed in similar circumstances whilst driven into exile by Aethelfrith. He was poisoned by the British King Ceretic of Elmet whilst under his protection. It is highly likely this was done at the behest of a similar carrot and stick offer made by Aethelfrith. After Raedwald rejected Aethelfrith’s proposal to kill Edwin they fought the Battle of the River Idle in 616 after which Edwin was installed as king of Northumbria.

It is clear from this series of events that Aethelfrith was determined to snuff out his dynastic rival Edwin with military action. It is also clear that at some point shortly before 616 Edwin was, for some unknown reason, forced to flee the protection of Mercian King Cearl and seek the protection of King Raedwald. Higham writes “The battle of Chester is the only battle known to have been fought by Aethelfrith against his southern neighbours. Unless Bede omitted mention of another at least as important, Cearl was a victim of the Chester campaign.” Following Higham, as the only possible event that could have precipitated Edwin’s withdrawal from Mercia, the Battle of Chester was probably another attempt by Aethelfrith to destroy Edwin and his protectors. The Annales of Ulster tell us that Selyf was the leader and “King of the Britons” that was defeated by Aethelfrith at Chester. Koch ingeniously suggested that Selyf was the primary target of Aethelfrith because he was the overlord and protector of Cearl and Mercia at the time. Whilst it may be counter-intuitive that the King of Powys ruled over the Mercians, at this time Mercia was a relatively minor kingdom whereas Chadwick surveying the available evidence concluded “taking Selyf ap Cynan as British commander at Chester” with his territory “Powys as covering the whole region between the Severn and Dee estuaries”. This fits with the previously discussed and evidently successful conquest of Cornouii by Selyf’s father Cynan.

One aspect of the battle which left a lasting impact in the British memory (strangely reminiscent of the slaughter of the Druids of Anglesey by the Romans centuries earlier) was Aethelfrith’s slaughter of the monks of Bangor. Bede rationalised the Pagan kings actions as “the prophecy of the holy Bishop Augustine was fulfilled… ...namely that those heretics [insular Christian Britons] would also suffer the vengeance of temporal death”.

The Annales of Tigernach (AoT) record that a king called “Cetula” died alongside Selyf at Chester. Breeze amends this to “Cetual” and identifies him as Cadwal of Rhos however there is an alternative. The name “Cadwal” or “Cetual” is from the Proto-Celtic Katu + Walos (Battle Prince) and is cognate with the Irish “Cathal”. In later centuries the name “Charles” was used as an Anglicised spelling of “Cathal”. “Charles” is a name that developed from the same Germanic root as “Cearl”. It is therefore possible that the name “Cetual” in the AoT is an attempted Gaelicisation of an unfamiliar English name “Cearl”. Although this possibility is less likely what is certain is that after the Battle of Chester in 613-ish Edwin no longer enjoyed the protection of Cearl and fled to Raedwald.

Following the interpretation of Higham, the Tribal Hidage lists all the kingdoms tributary to Edwin in 626. It is divided into two halves: the first half includes Mercia (and its subkingdoms), Wreocensæte (Civitas Cornouii) and Westerne (Heechan). Higham deduced this first group corresponds to the previous overlordship of Aethelfrith which Edwin inherited after being installed in Northumbria from 616. Evidently Aethelfrith had made the British overkingdom that called itself “Powys” (Cadelling ruled Heechan & Cornouii) including Mercia tributary to Northumbria after the Battle of Chester. It should be noted that while the Tribal Hidage does include the British kingdom of Elmet annexed by Edwin in 625/ 626 it doesn’t include Yrechwydd (Lancashire) or the Menavian Islands two further British territories subjugated later in the same year. The annexation of Elmet and Yrechwydd by Edwin was the event which lead to the exile of Cadwallon and subsequent reconquest, these events will be detailed in an upcoming article. The second half of the Tribal Hidage lists the southern kingdoms of England obtained by Edwin after the death of Raedwald. The second half includes Hwicce suggesting that at some point between 603 and 626 it was re-annexed into Wessex. This was almost certainly a result of the victory of Cynegils (Cynglas?) over the Britons at the Battle of Beandun in 614 listed in the ASC. “Beandun” also spelled “Beamdune” in other manuscripts has been plausibly identified as Bampton in Oxfordshire which has historical spellings “Bentone” and “Bemtun”. Bampton is located directly between Dorchester and Cirencester making it the perfect site for a battle between Wessex and Hwicce. This annexation or making tributary of Hwicce happened in 614 which was the year after the Britons of Powys were made tribute by Aethelfrith. It seems Wessex were taking advantage of the weakened state of the Britons. This makes 614 the most likely date for the death of Pybba and probably also resulted in the exile of a young Penda from Hwicce.

In a very short span of time the Britons had suffered huge losses putting them into an almost existential crisis. The northern Britons of the Cynwydion (Alt Clut & Gododdin) and the northern Coeling (Rheged) were as yet still independent of Edwin. In contrast the southern Coeling of Elmet, Ebrauc and Yrechwydd had been entirely annexed by Edwin and their last leader Cadwallon exiled to Ireland. Edwin was even encroaching on Gwynedd making the British Menavian Islands (Man & Mon) tributary. The Britons of Powys were still tributary to Northumbria after defeat at Chester and Hwicce was made tributary or annexed by Wessex at Bampton with their leader Penda also in exile.

As we have discussed previously Penda didn’t become ruler over Mercia until 633. The recorded victory of Penda against Wessex at the Battle of Cirencester in 628 marks a reconquest of his ancestral seat. As Penda clearly wasn’t king of Mercia or Hwicce prior to the Battle of Cirencester he must have been made king of another territory in 626 as recorded in the ASC. To defeat and impose terms upon the formidable enemy of Wessex Penda must have commanded a significant force as Gelling writes “the problem of where Penda obtained an army for his first recorded victory against the West Saxons at Cirencester might be solved by assuming that he had the support of the Welsh people of the West Midlands”.

Koch offers some evidence to support this idea from the 7^th century poem “Moliant Cadwallon”. The poem depicts the powerful warlord Cadwallon returning from exile in Ireland with his host and landing “In Portskewett, on the estuary where borders meet”. Portskewett is on the Welsh side of the modern Anglo-Welsh border a stones throw from the Severn Bridge and Gloucestershire (Hwicce) beyond the River Wye. The poem depicts British forces mustering prior to his campaign “the hospitality of Cadwallon on the summit of Caer Caradog, as he raises his army to set York ablaze.” The poem continues “[In Port Skewitt on the border] Let the heathen tribe be gone; they have been driven as far as a briny anointing”. Koch offers one interpretation “Penda had been backed by a mostly Welsh army when he defeated Wessex at Cirencester in 628… ...Prior to this, it is likely that the West Saxons had been in a position to sail across the estuary to extort tribute… ...Afterwards, with the Cambrophile Penda as overlord in Hwicce, transmarine oppressors from Wessex were no longer to be feared”. Given that Penda had a supporting role in Cadwallon’s campaign against Edwin it makes perfect sense that Cadwallon had won this loyalty by first supporting Penda’s reconquest of his own ancestral seat, their interests were very closely aligned.

Caer Caradog has been firmly identifed by Breeze with Caradoc Court in Herefordshire with historical forms such as “Caer Caradock”. This identification is also accepted by Woolf and Koch. If this was the stronghold of Cadwallon and presumably his ally Penda this may reveal where Penda first held power from 626. Caer Caradog was located in Heechan (Magonsaete), the traditional primary seat of the Powys Cadelling dynasty. It may be that after the Battle of Chester the mainline branch of the Cadelling were weakened and usurped by Penda whilst he was in exile amongst them. Penda himself was a direct patrilineal descendent of Cadell Deyrnllug. Penda probably ruled all of greater Powys (both Heechan and Cornouii) at this time making him a powerful king. While Penda was tributary to Edwin at first, his move against Wessex by annexing Hwicce wouldn’t have troubled Edwin given he was also in conflict with Wessex in 626 after an assassination attempt. Edwin may have even supported Penda’s campaign as a further punitive measure against Wessex on top of the steep tribute imposed upon them. When Penda’s forces were joined with Cadwallon they were capable of overthrowing and imposing terms upon Wessex as well as deposing the sitting “Brittanniae imperator” Edwin.

It is worth noting some of the locational symbolism from “Moliant Cadwallon”. Firstly and most obviously is Caer Caradoc. The PP says “Caradog Freichfras… ...king of the North and Earl of Hereford; and from his name was bestowed upon it Caer Caradog, and today it is called Hereford.” Secondly in the Life of Saint Tatheus Caradog Freichfras leaves his court in Caerwent to “ride forth on the morrow and show him a place for building that it might be given to God and to himself for a royal and civic palace… ...until he well-nigh came to the bank of the Severn… ...and here be thy royal habitation”. As Port Skewett is on the Severn and is featured in the triads as one of the “Three Chief Ports of the Island of Britain” it is usually identified as one of Caradog’s further courts. As previously discussed Caradog Freichfras was also strongly associated with Cirencester. It therefore seems significant that Cadwallon and Penda mustered at two locations associated with Caradog (Caer Caradog & Port Skewitt) before winning his primary seat in battle (Cirencester). It may be that Penda was trying to legitimise his rule of Hwicce and Powys by emphasising his descent from Ceredic ap Alauc (i.e. Caradog Freichfras). After mustering their forces at Caer Caradog in Heechan Cadwallon and Penda proceeded northwards up the Severn into greater Powys winning victories such as the Battle of Cefn Digoll before proceeding further northwards into Northumbria.

Adomnan writing earlier than Bede says “King [Cadwallon] was slaughtered; and the victor [Oswald], returning from the battle, was afterwards ordained by God as emperor of all Britain [“Brittanniae imperator”].” Koch logically comments on this “victory in the battle would not in itself have made Oswald ‘emperor of the whole of Britain’ unless that was the power that Cadwallon held before Oswald wrested it from him.” Bede lists all the “regibus gentis Anglorum” (“kings of the English nation”) that held an “imperium” over “all the southern kingdoms, which are divided from the north by the river Humber”. This “imperium” is the same concept as that earlier “Brittanniae imperator” put forward by Adomnan and the same concept as the “Bretwalda” (“Ruler of Britain”) in the later ASC. Bede consecutively lists Edwin, Oswald and Oswy amongst those who held this “imperium” but omits Cadwallon and Penda who both undoubtedly achieved similar status during their respective floruits. In the case of Cadwallon this is undoubtedly because he was not an English king but ostensibly as a member of the “gentis Anglorum” Penda should be expected here. I would even speculate that some of the British Coeling kings north of the Humber (Coel, Urien & Arthur) were also “Brittanniae imperator”.

Moliant Cadwallon contains a line which confirms Cadwallon aspired to and achieved this status “Cadwallon, another Einion: the imperium”. Another interesting line associates Cadwallon with the national symbol of Wales: “the dragon chief, defensive citadel of the Cymry, Cadwallon”. This reference may preserve the oldest roots of the symbol which was later confused with Cadwaladyr. After the Battle of Hatfield Chase in 633 Cadwallon seized direct control of Northumbria from which his brief “imperium” was ruled. As Bede informs us, Penda became overlord of Mercia in the same year of 633 after Edwin, the previous overlord of Mercia, was killed. Presumably this overlordship was granted as reward for supporting Cadwallon, but it may also represent a return to the prior overlordship Powys exercised over Mercia in the time of Selyf.

After the death of Cadwallon at the Battle of Heavenfield Penda seems to have taken over leadership of Cadwallon’s anti-Northumbria campaign. Penda lead a confederacy of British kings including close allies Cynddylan and Cadafael. The HB illustrates this “Brittanniae imperator” role: “Oswy delivered all the riches that he had in the city into the hand of Penda, and Penda distributed them to the kings of the British, that is the ‘Distribution of ludeu’.”

Penda Rex Pagenses

Bede is the primary source of information about Penda. The portrayal of Penda by Bede contains some details that contradict the idea he was a British King of Powys that became overlord of Mercia. Firstly Bede says “Cadwallon, king of the Britons, rebelled against him [Edwin]. He was supported by Penda, a most energetic member of the royal house of Mercia, who from that date ruled over that nation for twenty-two years”. This statement doesn’t contradict the idea Penda was the progenitor of the Mercian royal house itself from 633 as a result of supporting Cadwallon or even the idea he was a Briton. Penda married the Anglian princess Cynewise and fathered two sons called Wulfhere and Aethelred who both hold unambiguously Germanic names. Penda had two further sons with Brythonic names, Peada and Morfael, whom may have been the result of an earlier marriage. After the death of Penda the claims of Wulfhere an Aethelred were supported by the Anglian Mercian ealdormen and so it is through these sons that the rule of Mercia passed. While the Mercian royal line may have been founded by a British warlord it rapidly Anglicised almost instantly.

The idea Penda was a Briton is mainly contradicted by Bede repeatedly referring to him as a “Pagan” (“Paganus”, “Pagani” etc). If taken at face value this would eliminate the possibility Penda could be a Briton as they were universally insular Christians at this time. There is however some inconsistencies and contradictions in Bede’s writing that indicate he cannot be taken as a reliable narrator on this issue.

Bede writes “At this time there was a great slaughter both of the Church and of the people of Northumbria, one of the perpetrators being a Pagan [“Paganus”] and the other a barbarian who was even more cruel than the Pagan [“Pagano”]. Now Penda and the whole Mercian race were idolaters and ignorant of the name of Christ; but Cadwallon, although a Christian by name and profession, was nevertheless a barbarian in heart and disposition and spared neither women nor innocent children. With bestial cruelty he put all to death by torture and for a long time raged through all their land, meaning to wipe out the whole English nation from the land of Britain. Nor did he pay any respect to the Christian religion which had sprung up amongst them. Indeed to this very day it is the habit of the Britons to despise the faith and religion of the English and not to co-operate with them in anything any more than with the Pagan [“Paganis”].” Clearly Cadwallon cannot have been seeking to entirely eradicate the English people if his closest ally was himself a Pagan Angle. The theme of driving the English out of Britain is a recurring sentiment in British propaganda such as “Armes Prydein”, it is therefore credible Cadwallon did have this goal. If this is the case then Penda wasn’t a Pagan Angle. Either way Bede is not reliable here. It is also a glaring contradiction that Bede praises the slaughter of the British monks of Bangor by the Pagan Aethelfrith whilst expecting Cadwallon to exercise restraint with regards to retaliation against the Northumbrian church.

Bede also writes that Edwin “built a church which was afterwards burnt down, together with the whole of the buildings, by the Pagans [Pagani] who slew King Edwin. In its place, later kings built a dwelling for themselves in the region known as Loidis… ...which is in the forest of Elmet”. This account is comparable to the similar narrative in Moliant Cadwallon: “Cadwallon, another Einion: the imperium....to kindle fire in the land of Elmet by the Cymry”. As the Christian Cadwallon and not Pagan Penda is the single individual credited with killing Edwin it is strange they are referred to collectively as “Pagani”. Bede is inaccurately using the term as a pejorative rhetorical insult. Later writers such as Reginald of Durham have taken Bede literally: “King Cadwallon was a Pagan” (“Cedwalla rex paganus fuit”).

Bede writes “King Oswiu was exposed to the savage and insupportable attacks of Penda… ...Oswiu was at last forced to promise him an incalculable and incredible store of royal treasures and gifts as the price of peace, on condition that Penda would return home and cease to devastate, or rather utterly destroy, the kingdoms under his rule. But the perfidious king would not accept this offer, for he was determined to destroy and exterminate the whole people from the greatest to the least… … it is said that the Pagans [Pagani] had an army which was thirty times as great… ...The battle was joined and the Pagans [Pagani] were put to flight or destroyed… ...The battle was fought near the river Winwaed”. This account of the siege of Iudeu and Winwaed refers to Penda and his forces collectively as “Pagani” and yet in Welsh sources such as HB and “Marwnad Cynddylan” we learn Penda’s closest allies here were “British kings” including Cynddylan of Powys and Cadafael of Gwynedd. Clearly these Britons were not Pagans and thus Bede again seems to be using the term as a rhetorical pejorative more than anything else.

Similarly Bede writes “Oswald was killed in a great battle by the same Pagan [pagana] people and the same Pagan [paganoque] Mercian king as his predecessor Edwin in a place called in the English tongue Maserfelth”. The site of Battle of Maserfield or Maes Cogwy in Welsh has been identified as Oswestry (”Oswald’s Tree”) in Shropshire. This was an offensive campaign against Penda striking deep into his heartland. It is curious therefore that the battle was fought within what was at the time deep within the British kingdom of Powys. Gelling summarises the relevant archaeology of the West Midlands as follows: “In Cheshire, Shropshire and Herefordshire there have been no Anglo-Saxon finds of the pagan period. And there are hardly any furnished Anglo-Saxon burials in Staffordshire”. It seems exceedingly unlikely that a supposed bulwark of Anglian Paganism would have this British Christian region as part of his heartland targeted by Oswald without even a single Pagan burial in the area.

In Bede’s writing the label “Pagani” is associated with Penda more than any other ruler. It is therefore very interesting that Penda is also very closely associated with the kingdom of Powys. As previously outlined he was probably ruler of Powys (Heechan & Cornouii) before he re-annexed Hwicce or became overlord of Mercia; Cynddylan of Powys was his loyal subreguli and Oswy seeking to strike the heartland of Penda’s territory clashed in Powys at Oswestry. As Koch writes “It is widely recognized that the Welsh name Powys can be regularly derived from Latin ‘pagenses’ ‘people of the rural districts’… ...Gelling suggested as applied that ‘pagenses’ to this region of sub-Roman Britain might have been synonymous with pagani, also originally ‘country dwellers’, but of course coming to mean ‘pagans’.” The founding legend of the Cadelling dynasty recorded in the HB is that Cadell Deyrnllug was elevated from a low status position as a servant to the kingship by Saint Germanus. Koch notes that by naming their territory “Pagenses” the Cadelling may have been invoking this founding myth: “they embraced ‘dwellers in the rural districts’ [Pagenses] as consistent with an established idea of themselves as a kindred raised from low status and destined to overthrow tyrants.”

It is very feasible that Bede was basing his claim that Penda was a Pagan on a Latin source reading something like “Penda rex pagenses” (Or “Penda rex pagani”) incorrectly interpreted as “Penda king of Pagans” and not the correct “Penda king of Powys”, an easy mistake to make. A poem by Cynddelw asserts that the battle of Maserfield or Cogwy was an attack by Oswald specifically targeting Powys: “When the hero went to the battle of Cogwy… ...In the encounter of Powys [Pagenses], stubborn people, With Oswald”. This strongly suggests the British considered Penda as exclusively the King of Pagenses and would explain why Bede associated the word “Pagani” (synonymous with Pagenses) with Penda so strongly. Bede writing about a century after Penda would be familiar with his fully Anglicised descendants ruling Anglian Mercia. It would be a logical assumption for Bede that Penda shared this ethno-cultural origin which would corrupt Bede’s interpretation of his available sources. Bede had no reason to even consider a British origin for the dynasty in fact he had every reason to obfuscate it. A running theme throughout Bede’s work is opposition to the influence of the insular Celtic church to prevent undermining the legitimacy and primacy of the Romanist tradition. Bede obfuscates and omits any information about British Christian influence on the English people. For example he fails to mention the role of Rhun in the conversion of Edwin and the marriage of Rhun’s granddaughter Rhieinmellt to Oswy recorded in the HB and corroborated in the Durham Liber Vitae.

“Canu Heledd” (CH) and “Marwnad Cynddylan” (MC) provide a contemporary account of the religious affiliations of the West Midlands in the late 7^th century. Both poems are set in the period after Penda was killed at the Battle of Winwaed by Oswy in 655. For some historical context Bede writes “King Oswy ruled over the Mercian race, as well as the rest of the southern kingdoms, for three years after King Penda was killed [655-658]… ...At this time [655] Oswy gave Peada, the son of King Penda, the kingdom of Southern Mercia… ...being divided by the river Trent from Northern Mercia… ...Peada was most foully murdered in the following spring [656] by the treachery, or so it is said, of his wife [Oswy’s daughter] during the very time of the Easter festival. Three years after King Penda’s death [658] the ealdormen of the Mercian race, Immin, Eafa, and Eadberht, rebelled against King Oswy and set up as their king Wulfhere, Penda’s young son, whom they had kept concealed; and having driven out the ealdormen of the foreign king, they boldly recovered their lands and their liberty at the same time.”

Following the analysis of Koch, Rowland and others it is probably during the two year period 656-658, after Peada’s death and before Wulfhere’s rebellion that the events of CH and MC are based. The Annales Cambriae record “Penda killed” in 657 and “Oswy came and took plunder” in 658. These dates are slightly incorrect, Penda was killed by Oswy at Winwaed in 655 not 657 therefore “Oswy came and took plunder” should be correctly dated to 656. This record of Oswy in conflict with the Britons in 656 after the death of Penda (and likely Peada) is the context that CH and MC should be analysed. As stated by Bede, Wulfhere (and likely his younger brother Aethelred) were sheltered by Anglian Mercian ealdormen. Their mother Cynewise, the wife of Penda, was also an Angle Mercian. It is clear both Wulfhere and Aethelred grew up in an Anglian environment and possessed an Anglian identity which proliferated throughout Mercia and it’s subkingdoms during their respective periods of rule. This does not disqualify a British origin and identity for their father Penda who acquired overlordship of Mercia by conquest. It is Penda’s two older sons with Brythonic names (Peada and Merewalh/ Morfael) who we will focus on here.

The CH tells us that “Cynddylan Powys” was a son of Cyndrwyn and ruled a subkingdom of Powys called Pengwern. Giraldus Cambrensis writes “the country now called Shropshire formerly belonged to Powys, and the place where the castle of Shrewsbury stands bore the name of Pengwern”. Cynddlyan’s core territory is repeatedly mentioned as the “Tren” river valley which is securely identified as the River Tern in Shropshire not the Trent. Other locations mentioned include “Dinlle Wrygon” which is either post-Roman Wroxeter or the Wrekin Hillfort making it likely his territory was coterminous with the “Wreocensæte” of the Tribal Hidage. The CH also mentions Cynddylan was buried in a place called “Eglwysau Basa” which is modern Baschurch. Interestingly this church named for a “Bassa” is actually an English not a Brythonic name. The implication is that there was English speaking Christian settlers within Powys under British rule. This may indicate a British Christian influence on the formerly Pagan English incomers which would contradict Bede. The main theme of CH is the defence and devastation of Pengwern by Oswy: “Cynddylan, block the place where the English come through Tren… ...The hall of Cynddylan, its roof is black after the killing by English warriors of Cynddylan”.

As mentioned earlier Chadwick deduced in the 7^th century Powys was a large overkingdom “covering the whole region between the Severn and Dee estuaries”. Rowland adds “As a political entity, however, Powys seems to have been relatively fluid… ...The impression that the admittedly difficult and fragmentary sources give is of several sub-kingdoms united in a loose confederation, acknowledging an overlord or king”. Cynddylan was one of these subkings. Selyf ap Cynan of the mainline Cadelling dynasty was the overking of Powys in his time. The MC poet indicates that Cynddylan ap Cyndrwyn’s overlord and the MC poet’s Gwynedd based audience were opponents of Selyf’s mainline Cadelling: “I adore the one from Aberffraw who greets me, the hereditary ruler of Dogfeiling, a terror to Cadell’s descendants”. The Pillar of Eliseg reads “It is Eliseg who annexed the inheritance of Powys” which indicates that the mainline branch of the Cadelling didn’t regain their power in the region until this generation. This in turn suggests there was a two generation interregnum in Powys between Selyf and his great grandson Elise. As we shall see it was Penda and his son Morfael who displaced the mainline Cadelling in this period.

Numerous English sources mention Merewalh (Anglicised Morfael) including ASC MS E, William of Malmesbury, Chronicle of John of Worcester (CoJ), Chronicle of Florence of Worcester (CoF), Kentish Royal Legend, Life of St Mildburg (LoM) by Goscelin. All sources agree Merewalh was a son of Penda and that he married a Kentish Princess (probably Domne Eafe). Some sources even name their infant son as “Merfynn” which is unambiguously the Brythonic name “Merfyn”. Accounts differ slightly as to which territory Merewalh ruled, some simply say Mercia but other sources are more specific; CoJ says “Peada, who had the kingdom of the South Mercians… ...Merewalh, who held the kingdom in the western part of Mercia” and most accurately CoF says “Merewalh, king of the West Hecanas”. Florence of Worcester clarifies by writing under the heading “Hecana” that “The Names of the Bishops of the Magonsaetas, or people of Herefordshire” and “Worcester had been in the times when the Britons, and afterwards the Romans, were masters of Britain, and still was, the well-known capital of the Hwiccias or Magasetas, he very properly fixed the seat of a bishop in that city”. As previously discussed this evidence shows the kingdom of Hwicce is roughly equivalent to the diocese of Worcester but also that this kingdom seems to have had some kind of close relationship with Magonsaete/ Hecana, possibly interconnected subkingdoms of the Romano-British civitas Dobunni. “Hecana” is equivalent to the Brythonic “Heechan” mentioned in TCG as the primary seat that Cynan Garwyn ruled before achieving overlordship of Cornouii that his son Selyf inherited under the new label Powys [Pagenses]. That Merewalh son of Penda is found ruling this territory is clear evidence of the previously theorised interregnum. After the Battle of Chester the mainline branch of the Cadelling were displaced by an exiled Penda opportunistically filling the power vacuum. Penda was crowned King of Heechan (or greater Powys) in 626 before taking overlordship of Hwicce (628), greater Powys [Pagenses] and Mercia (633) in alliance with Cadwallon. Penda even achieved Brittanniae imperator status in 642 after killing Oswald at Maserfield or Maes Cogwy in Powys [Pagenses].

The LoM claims Merewalh was a committed Pagan until he was converted by a missionary from Northumbria called Edfrith in 660. Merewalh subsequently founded Leominster [”Leonis Monasterium” from Giraldus Cambrensis and “Llan Lieni” from Camden] and Wenlock [”Wimnicas”]. Both of these names seem to be of Brythonic origin as Koch writes “these important monasteries seem to have retained their Brythonic names: LIanllieni ‘church of Lean district’ and Wen-loch ‘white/ blessed monastery’”. LoM also says “the king [Merewalh]… ...had constructed a monastery at Gloucester”. Gloucester is in Hwicce which may indicate Merewalh actually ruled both Hwicce and Heechan. The claim that Herefordshire had an Anglian Pagan ruler and population before 660 is immediately suspect as there is zero archaeological evidence of Pagan burials, it is instead almost certain that the population was largely composed of the same British Christians that inhabited the region under the previous rule of Cynan Garwyn. It seems extremely unlikely that a ruler with a Brythonic name “Morfael” with a son called “Merfyn” ruling over a British Christian population was a lone devout Anglian Pagan. The tradition recorded in the LoM may simply record the first known missionary influence of the English church in the region. With all this in mind further consideration of the Welsh sources indicate Morfael was a practising British Christian.

The battle of Maes Cogwy [Maserfield] occurred in Oswestry in Shropshire which was in the heart of Powys [Pagenses]. By targeting Powys [Pagenses] it is clear that Oswald considered this Penda’s centre of power. The Cynddelw poem says “When the hero went to the battle of Cogwy… ...In the encounter of Powys [Pagenses], stubborn people, With Oswald”. This poem confirms that the Britons considered the battle a conflict between the Pagenses and Oswald and in turn that Penda was king of Powys [Pagenses]. The CH says “I saw on the ground of Maes Cogwy, a host, and a shout of affliction. Cynddylan was an ally” and MC says “When [Penda] the son of Pybba summoned, [Cynddylan] was so ready!”. The MC also says “I adore the one from Aberffraw who greets me, the hereditary ruler of Dogfeiling, a terror to Cadell’s descendants”. Again the clear implication here is that Penda has displaced the rival mainline Cadelling as overking of Powys [Pagenses] and commanded absolute loyalty from its subkings.

Before continuing it is worth considering the authorship and purpose of Marwnad Cynddylan (MC). As summarised by Koch in some manuscript versions its authorship is credited to a “Meigant” or “Meugan”. Interestingly the work of a Cambro-Latin poet called “Moucan” or “Meugan” survives in an 8^th century manuscript from Worcester known as the “Royal Prayer Book”. The poem is a Cambro-Latin religious work called “Orationes Moucani” or “The Prayers of Meugan”. Koch concludes these works belong to the same individual: “it is likely that this Moucan or Meugan belonged to the 7th-century or the earlier 8th, and to a part of Wales near England’s West Midlands, Anglo-Saxon Hwicce, Mercia, and the Magonsate… ...The internal evidence of Marwnad Cynddylan is enough to suggest that its poet was a literate Welsh Christian active in broadly the same period and region as Moucan… ...a Welsh poet whose work survives in an 8th-century Mercian manuscript, which must be explained by extraordinary circumstances of cultural collaboration… ...There is therefore a case for a 7th-century Brythonic poet named Moucan/ Meugan(t) working in Latin and the vernacular - who was a court poet indebted to the style of the A text of Y Gododdin, and sometime diplomat, and (perhaps later on) a cleric active in the fluid borderland of what became Powys and western Mercia.” In conclusion Meugan was a British Christian court bard for Morfael. This is further evidence that “Western Mercia” at this time was synonymous with Powys [Pagenses] and wasn’t Anglian but British.

A critical section of the MC features a “Morfael” which Koch has identified as Merewalh son of Penda king of Hecana [Heechan]: “As a linguistic matter… ...the development begins with EMB [Brythonic] Moramail [Morμail] and that OE Marewalh results from an Anglicizing reinterpretation of that”. As Koch writes Meugan’s purpose in composing MC was not only to elegise Cynddylan but also as “a diplomatic effort seeking Gwynedd to join forces with Morfael” to counter the threat posed by Oswy but also “to prevent reassertion of power by the Cyndrwynyn’s rivals, the [mainline branch] Cadelling”. It seems Morfael was seeking to emulate the victories won by his father Penda and Cadwallon before him by positioning himself as a High King of the Britons.

Cadafael the king of Gwynedd had disgraced himself by abandoning Penda before the battle of Winwaed leading to his defeat. This withdrawal had earned him the epithet “Cadomedd” meaning “battle refuser” as recorded in the HB “A great battle was fought at Gai Campus, and there Penda was slain with great slaughter, and the kings of the Britons with him. Cadafael alone escaped with his army, rising up in the night, for which reason he is called Cadafael Cadomedd”. This appeal by Morfael may have been an attempt to extend an olive branch and re-establish what had been a successful relationship.

The key event depicted in the MC is an attack on Caer Luitcoed [Lichfield] by the Cyndrwynyn and Morfael: “Before Caer Luitcoed [Lichfield] they caused, blood underneath ravens and severe stirring, Lime-washed shields used to break in front of the fair sons of the Cyndrwynyn”. The establishment of an episcopal seat in Lichfield by the new bishop Saint Chad in 669 shows that by this date the Lichfield-Tamworth area had become the royal core of Mercia. The 8^th century illuminated insular manuscript known as Saint Chad’s Gospels or the Lichfield Gospels are of mysterious provenance. They contain puzzling marginalia written in Old Welsh which highlights the mixed cultural influences within Mercia even into later centuries. Saint Chad himself had a Brythonic name which is something we will return to.

Koch believes that Lichfield-Tamworth became the royal core of Penda too. The MC says the Cyndrwynyn “fought for the herds of [the region of] Pennawg”. This “Pennawg” is a region mentioned in poetry relating to Urien Rheged raiding the heartland of Bernicia around Bamburgh and Lindesfarne. The MC continues “They used to drive their spoils back from the distributions of Tame [River Tame i.e. Tamworth], slaves complained; they were hurt; cattle bellowed”. These two lines show that the Cyndrwynyn participated in Penda’s campaigns in Northumbria and were handsomely rewarded for their trouble. Evidently Penda extracted large quantities of spoil during his campaigns which is confirmed by Bede “King Oswiu was exposed to the savage and insupportable attacks of Penda… ...Oswiu was at last forced to promise him an incalculable and incredible store of royal treasures and gifts” and the HB “Oswy delivered all the riches that he had in the city into the hand of Penda, and Penda distributed them to the kings of the British, that is the ‘Distribution of ludeu’.”

The incredible Staffordshire Hoard contains thousands of pieces of high status metalwork including a helmet, sword pieces and Christian artefacts. It was found very close to Lichfield and as summarised by Historic England: “A combination of investigative conservation, scientific analysis and archaeological and art-historical study suggests that although the hoard objects were buried together, around AD 650-675… ...The late group of ‘Early Insular’ style objects show both Anglo-Saxon and Celtic influences and may originate in Northumbria… ...It is now thought that the items may have been chopped up to create easily distributable bullion that a war leader could use to pay his retinue.” This hoard is almost certainly the spoils won by Penda in Northumbria buried to protect it from the clutches of Oswy post-Winwaed.

Most scholars place Lichfield (in Latin “Letocetum” or Brythonic “Luitcoit” meaning “Grey Wood”) within the civitas of the Cornouii. There isn’t much evidence but geographically it sits within the West Midlands though on the eastern edge. This means it was probably within the territory of the Cornouii and not the Corieltauvi of the East Midlands. As early Powys [Pagenses] was an overkingdom spanning the entire territory of the Cornouii and Heechan (also with the rest of the Dobunni in Hwicce under Penda) and on the basis of archaeology the Lichfield-Tamworth region was populated by mostly Britons in Penda’s time. According to Bede the Angles of Mercia converted to Christianity from 653. This date is very close to the end of Penda’s reign in 655 therefore the distribution of Anglian Pagan burials in the West Midlands is a good approximation for the ethno-cultural boundary at this date. As illustrated in the figure below (Source: Ordnance Survey Map of Britain in the Dark Ages), Mercia north of the Trent has abundant Anglian Pagan evidence. The Lichfield-Tamworth locality (Staffordshire south of the Trent and west of Tame) has a notable absence of any Anglian Pagan archaeology strongly indicating it was predominantly British in Penda’s time. When looking at the distribution of AS Pagan evidence more broadly it actually seems like the Lichfield-Tamworth region was an outlying eastern British holdout which is entirely the opposite of what would be expected with Bede’s Pagan Penda narrative. However if Penda was a British Christian overlord of Mercia whose heartland lay to the west in Pagenses creating a centre of power in Lichfield on the British side of the Trent-Tame boundary is exactly what we would expect. The fact that half of Penda’s territory was composed of British Christians is completely omitted by Bede. This is either a deliberate omission for propagandistic reasons or Bede was simply unaware.

As outlined by Bede after Oswy killed Penda in 655 he divided Mercia into northern and southern portions. Oswy himself ruled North Mercia above the Trent and Peada ruled South Mercia below the Trent. CoJ adds a third division after “Peada, who had the kingdom of the South Mercians” informing us that “Merewalh, who held the kingdom in the western part of Mercia”. North Mercia held by Oswy above the Trent is easily deduced as roughly Nottinghamshire, Derbyshire and northern Staffordshire. South Mercia held by Peada (including the “Middle Angles”) is roughly Leicestershire, Warwickshire and Northamptonshire. Western Mercia is roughly modern Powys, Cheshire, Shropshire, Herefordshire, Worcestershire, Gloucestershire and south western Staffordshire. This was previously the combined civitates of Cornouii & Dobunni. It also corresponds to the Wreocansaete, Westerna (Magonsaete/ Heechan) and Hwicce of the Tribal Hidage. Western Mercia wasn’t originally Anglian Mercia proper but is in fact synonymous with the British lands of the original Powys [Pagenses] and was Penda’s homeland and stronghold. The fact Morfael is completely overlooked by Bede is probably because he wasn’t recognised as ruling an English kingdom. As Morfael inherited Penda’s core British territory he may have been the oldest son.

Whilst included in the western British section, Lichfield-Tamworth sits strategically in the centre of the three divisions, which is why it became Penda’s centre of power. It is also why it became the royal core of all Mercia from the late 7^th century onwards. The Harleian Genealogies contain an often overlooked dynasty that ruled in Glastonbury claiming descent from “Morfael son of Glast; from whom are the people of Glastonbury, who came from the town which is called Lichfield”. The name “Glast” or “Glas” is unusual and may actually be an epithet meaning “green” or just a confusion of some kind. As Morfael isn’t a common name it seems likely this is the same Morfael son of Penda king of Pagenses [West Mercia] depicted attacking Lichfield and corroborates Lichfield was within his inherited territory. There is further evidence that British cousins of Penda’s dynasty were based in Lichfield too which we shall return to.

After the death of Peada in 656 Oswy seized direct rule of Southern Mercia. As recorded under the corrected year 656 in the Annales Cambriae “Oswy came and took plunder”. Oswy invaded the lands of Morfael annexing the Lichfield-Tamworth region and launched devastating raids further into Cynddylan’s subkingdom of Pengwern around Wroxeter. This is the historical context upon which Marwnad Cynddylan (MC) should be analysed.

My own preferred translation of the critical lines of MC reads: “The enormity of the sword fighting! Great spoils! It was before Caer Luitcoed [Lichfield] that Morfael [Merewalh] led away, Fifteen hundred cattle and five bondsmen, eighty horses with noble trappings, the dead archbishop in his square tomb, did not protect the book grasping monks, who fell in their enclosure of gore at the hands of the shining captain.” This attack by Morfael on Lichfield was an attempt to drive out the Northumbrian invaders. Morfael was trying to emulate the successful defences by previous rulers of Powys [Pagenses], namely the successful campaign of Cadwallon and Penda driving Edwin out of Powys at Cefn Digoll; Penda killing Oswald at Maes Cogwy but also Selyf against Aethelfrith at Chester. One problem is that there was certainly no archbishop [pen esgob] in Lichfield 656. Saint Chad didn’t establish the episcopal seat of a bishop there until 669. Koch solved the puzzle by suggesting this is a rhetorical flourish recalling the slaughter of the monks of Bangor at the battle of Chester. Bede wrote “the prophecy of the holy Bishop Augustine was fulfilled… ...namely that those heretics (insular Christian Britons) would also suffer the vengeance of temporal death”. Saint Augustine was the first Archbishop of Canterbury. These lines assert that it is only through the martial strength of Morfael that the interests of Christian Britons can be protected from Northumbrian attacks.

As Koch writes one purpose of the MC was “a diplomatic effort seeking Gwynedd to join forces with Morfael”. Invoking the slaughter of the British monks at the hands of Northumbria was still an evocative unifying memory in Wales. It is thought that king of Gwynedd Iago ap Beli, Gwion ap Cyndrwyn (Cynddylan’s brother) died alongside the king of Powys (and High King of the Britons) Selyf ap Cynan fighting at Chester. Meugan the composer of this rhetoric was clearly a Welsh Christian court bard under the patronage of Morfael. Meugan was depicting Morfael as the inheritor of this legacy as great protector of the Britons and the insular British church. The clear implication is that Morfael himself was a devout British Christian.

Morfael was not successful in his bid to rally the kings of the Britons behind him to drive Oswy out of Mercia and once again assert Pagenses overlordship of Mercia. Instead his brother Wulfhere, who had been incubated by the ealdormen of Anglian Mercia, became the dominant king of Mercia driving out Oswy. Morfael submitted to his brothers rule at which point his domain of Western Mercia began to rapidly Anglicise including his marriage to a Kentish princess and induction into the English church in 660.

The significance of the conclusion that prior to 660 Morfael was a devout insular British Christian shouldn’t be understated. As previously demonstrated it is quite clear from British sources that Penda was considered the king of Powys [Pagenses] not Anglian Mercia and his son Morfael was considered a British Christian inheritor of this territory. If Morfael was a British Christian then the probability that his father Penda was also greatly increases. It also makes it credible that Bede’s constant assertion of Penda’s unparalleled Paganism was a simple misunderstanding of a written source stating “Penda rex Pagenses”. The literal meaning of Pagenses “people of the rural districts” was adopted as the name for Powys but also meant Pagans. Penda was known as king of Pagans but British Christian ones.

Cadwalla, Chad and Cadfan Luitcoed

To emphasise the fallibility of Bede when it comes to accurately portraying religious affairs we will look at another “young and vigorous prince of the Gewisse” called “Caedwalla” and his ancestors. Caedwalla possessed an overtly Brythonic name “Cadwallon” (meaning “Battle ruler”) and was sometimes confused with his predecessor and namesake king of the Britons Cadwallon. After Caedwalla became King of Wessex he successfully installed his brother “Mul” as ruler in Kent. The name “Mul” was probably an epithet derived from the Latin “Mulus” meaning “Mule”. This has often been taken as an allusion to a mixed Anglo-British ethnic origin for “Mule” and his brother Caedwalla. The previously discussed origin of the Gewisse-Glewis dynasty would dovetail with this idea neatly.

Curiously most sources claim Caedwalla was the last Anglo-Saxon Pagan ruler. For example a land grant recorded by WoM says “Caedwalla consenting and confirming with his own hand, although he was a pagan granted Lantocai”. Bede writes “After Caedwalla had gained possession of the kingdom of the Gewisse he also captured the Isle of Wight, which until then had been entirely given up to idolatry, and endeavoured to wipe out all the natives by merciless slaughter and to replace them by inhabitants from his own kingdom, binding himself, or so it is said, by a vow, though he was not yet Christian, that if he captured the island he would give a fourth part of it and of the booty to the Lord. He fulfilled his vow by giving it for the service of the Lord to Bishop Wilfrid”. Bede makes it clear the destruction of the Isle of Wight dynasty marked the end of Anglo-Saxon Paganism at least amongst the aristocracy: “saved were two young princes, brothers of Arwald, king of the island… ...When the enemy was approaching the island they escaped by flight and crossed over into the neighbouring realm of the Jutes… ...The abbot asked the king [Caedwalla] whether, if the boys must needs be killed, they might first be instructed in the mysteries of the Christian faith. The king agreed… ...When the executioner arrived, they gladly submitted to temporal death through which they were assured that they would pass to the eternal life of the soul. In this way after all the kingdoms of Britain had received the faith of Christ, the Isle of Wight received it too”.

The Life of Bishop Wilfrid (LoBW) asserts Caedwalla was a committed student and spiritual son of the Bishop: “there came a certain exile of noble descent from the desert places of Chiltern and the Weald whose name was Ceadwalla. He earnestly asked for the friendship of our holy father, praying Wilfrid to be his faithful father, to teach and help him, while he, on his side, promised him with a vow that he would be an obedient son. This compact, which they undertook with God as their witness, was faithfully fulfilled” and “King Caedwalla in his victory rewarded him [Bishop Wilfred] with innumerable pieces of land and other gifts out of the love of his heart and for God’s sake, and honoured his father exceedingly”. All sources agree that Caedwalla abdicated the throne and received baptism whilst on pilgrimage to Rome in 689 and died shortly afterwards.

Colgrave commenting on this contradictory information says “Wilfrid’s association with this bloodthirsty young pagan as described by Eddius is difficult to explain”. Caedwalla is simultaneously depicted as a non-Christian Pagan and a committed servant of Christian interests wiping out the last Pagans. This square could be circled if Caedwalla was in fact a practitioner of insular British Christianity. It is quite clear from the information supplied to us by Bede and LoBW that Caedwalla was only baptised in the Romanist Christian tradition at the end of his life in Rome and that during his life he performed the actions of a committed Christian ruler. It is also clear that with a British name like “Cadwallon” he was under some British cultural influence. The notion Caedwalla was “not yet Christian” could have stemmed from the fact his recorded Romanist baptism was at the end of his life. Wilfred was well known for his role in persuading the kings of Northumbria to convert from insular Celtic Christianity to the Romanist tradition. If Caedwalla began life as an insular British Christian but under the influence of Wilfred converted to the Romanist church it would explain why he acted as a Christian throughout the duration of his rule but has a post-rule Romanist baptism recorded. Bede’s assertion that Caedwalla was a Pagan cannot be considered reliable. If Caedwalla was incorrectly labelled a Pagan by Bede it is also possible Penda king of Powys [Pagenses] was a similar confusion.

Investigating the early life and ancestry of Caedwalla provides further clarity on this topic. According to Bede Wessex had first converted to Christianity under Cynegils (Cynglas) and his son Cenwalh (Cynfael). As LoBW says Caedwalla (Cadwallon) was an “exile of noble descent from the desert places of Chiltern”. Blair has demonstrated that the Chiltern region or “Cilternsaete” was ruled by a Mercian subking at this time. It may be therefore that Caedwalla was ruling this subkingdom of Mercia in exile. Mercia was also largely converted to Christianity at this time. It seems highly unlikely that an exile of the Christianised Gewisse in the Christianised Mercia with a British name would be an Anglo-Saxon Pagan.

The ASC lists Caedwalla (Cadwallon) as son of Coenberht (Brythonic Cynbryd?) son of Ceadda (Chad) son of Cutha (Cathuan) son of Ceawlin (Caw) son of Cerdic (Ceredic). Another pedigree lists a Cynebald son of Cuthwin son of Ceawlin. While the pedigrees in the chronicles are somewhat confused at times Cutha is usually taken as a hypocoristic version of the name Cuthwin. To confuse matters further Ceawlin seems to have had a son and a brother both named Cutha/ Cuthwin. To summarise, Ceadda and Cynebald were sons of Cuthwin who was son of Ceawlin son of Cerdic. There is nothing known about this “Ceadda”, the only other individual with this name in this period was Saint Chad (Ceadda is an alternate spelling of Chad). Ceadda or Chad is another hypocoristic form from the Brythonic element “Cad-” meaning “Battle”. It is a shortened form of a name like “Cadwallon” or “Cadfan”.

In late 7^th century Northumbria Bede informs us “There were then four brothers whom we have mentioned, Cedd, Cynebil, Caelin and Chad, who were all famous priests of the Lord, a very rare thing to happen, and two of them reached the rank of bishop”. Interestingly these four very influential brothers seem to possess Brythonic names, Bede confirms elsewhere that the name Caelin is an alternate spelling of Ceawlin: “Caelin, king of the West Saxons, known in their own language as Ceawlin”. Bede omits any mention of their parentage or background but does specify Chad “was one of Aidan’s disciples and sought to instruct his hearers in the ways and customs of his master and of his brother Cedd”. Only Chad is specified to have learned directly from Saint Aidan who was the first Bishop of Northumbria. Cedd was older than Chad and also advocated for the insular Celtic tradition. Cedd lead the first mission to Mercia after he was requested by Peada. Bede even states “King Penda did not forbid the preaching of the Word, even in his own Mercian kingdom, if any wished to hear it”. This in itself undermines the notion that Penda was a devout bulwark of Paganism. This mission to convert the Pagan Angles occurred at the request of Peada with their overlord Penda’s blessing. As we shall see Cedd was actually second cousins with Penda which is probably why he was chosen to lead this mission. Cedd later lead another mission to convert the kingdom of Essex whereupon he was ordained as their Bishop in the insular Celtic tradition. Bede informs us that Cedd built the stone Chapel of St Peter-on-the-Wall in Essex which amazingly still stands to this day.

Bede relays how the influential brothers acquired a monastery for themselves: “This king [Aethelwald son of Oswald] had previously had with him Caelin, Cedd’s brother, a man equally devoted to God… ...for he was a priest. It was through him chiefly that the king had got to know and had learned to love the bishop [Cedd]. So, in accordance with the king’s desire, Cedd chose himself a site for the monastery… ...The man of God was anxious first of all to cleanse the site… ...he asked his own brother Cynebil, who was a priest, to complete the sacred task. The latter gladly agreed and, when the work of fasting and prayer was ended, he built a monastery now called Lastingham and established in it the religious observances according to the usage of Lindisfarne where he had been brought up…...governed after him by his brother Chad who was afterwards consecrated bishop as we shall hear later”. Cedd argued for the interests of the insular Celtic church at the Synod of Whitby and importantly “acted as a most careful interpreter for both parties at the council” suggesting he was uniquely multi-lingual.

Despite the pro-Romanist result of the Synod of Whitby and the episcopal seat of Northumbria being promised to Saint Wilfred, King Oswy seems to have changed his mind and instead chose to install Saint Chad, according to Bede: “King Oswy… ...sent a holy man… ...to be consecrated bishop of the church of York. This was a priest named Chad, brother of the most reverend Bishop Cedd, who has often been mentioned and abbot of the monastery of Lastingham… ...they went to the kingdom of the West Saxons where Wine was bishop. The latter consecrated Chad with the assistance of two bishops of the British race who as has repeatedly been said, keep Easter Sunday, according to their rule”. Bede later retells how Chad was ousted from his position by Archbishop Theodore for being ordained by two British bishops: “he made it clear to Bishop Chad that his consecration had not been regular, whereupon the latter humbly replied, ‘If you believe that my consecration was irregular, I gladly resign from the office…’ ...When Theodore heard his humble reply, he said that he ought not to give up his office; but he completed his consecration a second time after the catholic manner”. The LoBW expands upon this incident further: “King Oswy… ...at the instigation of the ancient foe [insular Celtic church], consented to allow another to forestall him in his see in an irregular manner; for he was instructed by those who adhered to the Quartodeciman party [insular Celtic tradition] in opposition to the rule of the Apostolic See [Romanist]; they consecrated to the See of York a deeply pious servant of God and admirable teacher named Chad… ...they did it ignorantly and in defiance of canon law… ...he [Theodore] heard from the lips of true witnesses the story of the offence against the canon law… ...He indignantly ordered that Bishop Chad should be deposed… ...Chad, being a true and meek servant of God and fully understanding then the wrongdoing implied in his ordination to another’s see by the Quartodecimans [insular Celtic church]… ...whereupon Theodore, with Chad’s consent, installed St Wilfrid as bishop in his own see of York.”

The church of the Britons and the Irish were essentially a unified entity, hence the phrase “insular Celtic church”. The Irish Bishop Cummian highlighting this wrote “Rome is mistaken; Jerusalem is mistaken; Alexandria is mistaken; Antioch is mistaken; the whole world is mistaken: the Britons and the Irish alone hold the truth”. This is because the Irish were converted by British missionaries like Patrick and Uinniau and modelled their practices on the British church. Bede asserts the Britons had no influence in the conversion of the Anglo-Saxons and minimises the role of the Irish in order to reinforce the primacy of the Romanist tradition. There are reasons to doubt this version of events such as the claimed role of Rhun of Rheged in the baptism of Edwin king of Northumbria. The consecration of Saint Chad by two British bishops in Wessex is another reason to doubt this narrative. Firstly it tells us that British Christianity was prominent if not dominant within the kingdom of Cenwalh (Cynfael) in Wessex. Cenwalh is also credited in a charter with the foundation of a monastery called “Lanprobi” (Sherborne) from Brythonic “Llan Probus” meaning “Church of St Probus” further suggesting Cenwalh was involved with the British church. Chad specifically chose to be consecrated by British bishops amongst the Gewisse-Glewis which might allude to his identity, origin and brand of Christianity. This brand of Christianity was not only prominent in Wessex but via Bishop Chad and his brother Bishop Cedd also prominent in Northumbria, Essex and Mercia.

According to Bede after reconsecration in the Romanist tradition “Chad accepted the position of bishop of the Mercian race… ...He had his episcopal seat at a place called Lichfield, where he also died and was buried, and where the succeeding bishops of the kingdom have their see to this day”.

Noting the prominence of alliterative C names in the Cerdicing dynasty (Cerdic, Cynric, Ceawlin, Cynegils, Cenwalh etc) it is tempting to see a connection to the alliterative C names of Chad, Cedd, Caelin (Ceawlin) and Cynbil. The rare name “Ceawlin” by itself suggests a dynastic connection to the Wessex Ceawlin, only attested in these two persons. As Bede omits any details about the parentage of Saint Chad (Ceadda) it is also tempting to speculate that he is the same person as the grandfather of Caedwalla, namely Ceadda son of Cuthwin son of Ceawlin son of Cerdic. This theory is loosely supported by the fact Ceadda son of Cuthwin has a recorded brother called Cynebald which is arguably an equivalent variant spelling to the brother of Saint Ceadda called Cynbil (Brythonic Cynbelyn?).

The strongest piece of evidence in support of this idea comes from the Welsh “Bonedd Y Saint” which lists a Saint “Ceada o Redynvre ap Cadfan Llwytgoed” or “Saint Chad of Farndon son of Cadfan of Lichfield” where Farndon is a reference to St Chads Church in Farndon, Cheshire (Formerly Powys). The Brythonic name “Cadfan” has multiple variant spellings including “Cadwan” and “Cathuan” in English sources. This confirmation that Saint Chad was son of a Cathwan is clearly the same name as the Ceadda son of Cuthwin listed as the grandfather of Caedwalla. Cuthwin is an Anglicisation of the Brythonic name Cathuan or Cadfan. If this identification is accepted it would have some significant implications. It is tempting to see a connection to the “Llangadfan” (Church of Cadfan) in northern Powys although there is no evidence. Incidentally Ceredic ap Alauc has a documented brother also named Cadfan.

Taking at face value the epithet assigned to Cadfan in ByS “Llwytgoed” means that the family resided in Lichfield in the generation before Chad established the episcopal seat of Mercia in the same location. An 11^th century document “On the Resting-Places of the Saints” asserts that not only was Saint Chad buried at Lichfield but his brother Saint Cedd too. Evidently there was a strong familial connection to Lichfield. After Ceawlin King of Wessex was defeated in battle in 592 the ASC tells us that he was briefly exiled to an unspecified location before he died. Logically by extension his son Cuthwin or Cadfan was exiled too. The ByS suggests the location of this exile was Lichfield which at the time was within Powys [Pagenses] under the overlordship of King Selyf ap Cynan Garwyn. If we factor in that Chad was son of a “Cadfan” and grandfather of a “Cadwallon” his hypocoristic name containing the same “Cad-” element was probably a diminutive form of “Cadwallon”. We can rule out “Cadfan” as he wouldn’t possess the same name as his father but as names often recur in dynasties “Caedwalla” was probably named after Chad. Use of the shortened form is understandable given the King of Britons “Cadwallon” had ravaged Northumbria within living memory. Oswy appointing a bishop named after a war criminal wouldn’t have gone down very well thus the diminutive “Chad” was used instead. If Saint Chad’s full name was “Cadwallon ap Cadfan” this could explain a further historical conundrum. Traditionally the king of the Britons that killed Edwin at Hatfield Chase in 633 was also called Cadwallon ap Cadfan. Without expanding upon it here this tradition has been refuted by Woolf who claims King Cadwallon was actually son of a northern king in the Hen Ogledd called “Guitcun”. This will be discussed in an upcoming article. If Woolf is correct then a factor that may have contributed to this confusion in Welsh tradition is the existence of a second contemporary Cadwallon ap Cadfan in Lichfield. Some writers such as Geoffrey of Monmouth and Reginald of Durham also assert that whilst King Edwin was in exile he grew up alongside Cadwallon ap Cadfan which initiated a rivalry between the pair. Whilst there is no good evidence Edwin was ever exiled in the court of Gwynedd, as previously discussed there is evidence Edwin was exiled in Mercia-Powys under the overlordship of Selyf of Powys. It is therefore very plausible Edwin spent some time in Lichfield alongside Cadwallon ap Cadfan (Saint Chad). This may even explain how Saint Chad and his brothers ended up in Northumbria if they were taken as elite hostages after the defeat of Selyf by Aethelfrith. This elite provenance would explain their prominence within the Northumbrian church especially if they were amongst the few practising insular Celtic Christians within the aristocracy of Pagan Northumbria when Oswald took the throne.

One objection to equating Saint Ceadda son of Cathwan with Ceadda son of Cuthwin is that the clergy usually didn’t marry and procreate. Whilst it was often overlooked clergy often did produce offspring, for example in the insular Celtic church Saint Patrick himself records himself descending from a lineage of clergy his father was “Calpurnius, a deacon, son of Potitus, a priest”. Another example from the Romanist Northumbrian church as Symeon of Durham writes “Bishop Aldun had given his daughter, named Ecgfrida, in marriage to Gospatric’s son”. Clearly being a member of the clergy didn’t always mean no offspring.

If it is accepted that Cadfan son of Ceawlin went into exile in Lichfield in Powys [Pagenses]; that his son Saint Chad later setup the episcopal seat of Mercia in the same location and that Saint Chad was grandfather to Caedwalla then it is highly unlikely that Caedwalla himself was a Pagan. Caedwalla may have even been associated with the Pagenses in some way. It is more likely that Caedwalla was practising a brand of insular Celtic Christianity that survived within British Western Mercia and that his early presence amongst the Cilternsaete was as a ruling subking under Aethelred son of Penda. Therefore Bede was mistaken in asserting Caedwalla was a Pagan prior to his Romanist baptism. This fallibility demonstrates that Bede could be similarly mistaken about the religious affiliations of Penda rex Pagenses.

It is briefly worth noting two other persons affiliated with Saint Chad and his brothers. The first is a disciple of Chad mentioned by Bede called “Owine” which is another overtly Brythonic name “Owain”. This Owine was the sole witness “who saw the soul of Chad’s brother Cedd descend from the sky with a host of angels and return to the heavenly kingdom, taking Chad’s soul with him”. We are not told much about Owine’s background except “He had come with Queen Aethelthryth [to Northumbria] from the kingdom of the East Angles, being the chief of her officers and the head of her household”. The second person of note is the famous poet “Caedmon” who also has a Brythonic name “Cadfan”. Caedmon was a member of the Northumbrian clergy in the monastery of Whitby nearby to Cedd and Chad’s monastery of Lastingham. Bede relates that Caedmon was a uniquely divinely inspired poet who received his gift while dreaming: “he left the place of feasting and went to the cattle byre, as it was his turn to take charge of them that night… ...he [Caedmon] stretched himself out and went to sleep, whereupon he dreamt that someone stood by him, saluted him, and called him by name: ‘Caedmon,’ he said, ‘sing me something.’ Caedmon answered, ‘I cannot sing; that is why I left the feast and came here because I could not sing.’… ...Caedmon began to sing verses which he had never heard before in praise of God the Creator… ...When he awoke, he remembered all that he had sung while asleep… ...In the morning he went to the reeve who was his master, telling him of the gift he had received”.

This account of how Caedmon received the gift of divinely inspired poetry is very similar to two Welsh accounts, firstly Giraldus Cambrensis writes “There are certain persons in Cambria, whom you will find nowhere else, called Awenyddion, or people inspired; when consulted upon any doubtful event, they roar out violently, are rendered beside themselves, and become, as it were, possessed by a spirit… ...These gifts are usually conferred upon them in dreams: Some seem to have sweet milk or honey poured on their lips; others fancy that a written schedule is applied to their mouths and on awaking they publicly declare that they have received this gift.” Henry Vaughan wrote a similar account “This vein of poetrie they called Awen, which in their language signifies rapture, or a poetic furor… ...[Bards are] gifted or inspired with it… ...there was a young lad… ...that kept a great stock of sheep upon the mountains… ...There in Summer time following the sheep and looking to their lambs, he fell into a deep sleep in which he dreamt, that he saw a beautiful young man with a garland of green leafs upon his head, and a hawk upon his fist: With a quiver full of Arrows at his back, coming towards him… ...at last let the hawk fly at him, which (he dreamt) got into his mouth… ...suddenly awaked in a great fear and consternation: But possessed with such a vein, or gift of poetry, that he left the sheep and went about the Country, making songs upon all occasions, and came to be the most famous Bard in all the Country in his time”.

There is some clear similarities between these accounts of British bards and Caedmon both being gifted with divine inspiration whilst dreaming in proximity to livestock. As Brythonic names were not common within the kingdom of Northumbria it is curious to see a “Caedmon” living roughly a generation after Chad and Cedd in close proximity to their family monastery of Lastingham. On top of this he also has an alliterative C name, and not insignificantly the same one as Chad’s father Cadfan. It is a reasonable speculation that Caedmon was another son of one of these brothers.

Bede does cryptically mention an unnamed son of Cedd that became a member of the clergy. The context of the passage does make it clear Bede means a spiritual son but this could be obscuring biological parentage: “another attack of the pestilence came upon them and they all died, with the exception of one small boy who was preserved from death by the intercession of Cedd his father… ...afterwards admitted to priest’s orders, rendering useful service to many in the church. I do not doubt that he was delivered from the jaws of death by the intercession of his father Cedd”. It is in no way implied this spiritual son of Cedd could be Caedmon but it hard to imagine there isn’t some connection between these contemporary persons with rare Brythonic names. Similarly it isn’t coincidental that Chad’s closest disciple Owine had a Brythonic name, this may be concealing another familial relationship. It is also possible Caedmon and Owine were simply attracted to the orbit of Saint Chad’s influential family because they were fellow Anglo-Britons.

Conclusion

This article was in some sense an exercise in Brythonic maximalism but when taken cumulatively the mass of evidence points to strong British influence within the early kingdoms of Wessex, Mercia and beyond. It is probably more accurate to view this dynasty not as Anglo-Saxon nor British but Anglo-British. If the patrilineal descent from Vortigern to Cadell Deyrnllug, Ceredic ap Alauc, Creoda of Hwicce, Penda of Pagenses to Saint Chad and his grandson Caedwalla of Wessex is accepted it is a testament to the incredible resilience and dynamism of this ancient aristocracy even in the face of total cultural change.

The British Origins of English Kings

Introduction

The Kingdom of England emerged from a dominant Kingdom of Wessex ruled by Alfred the Great and subsequently his grandson Athelstan. The origins of this dynasty are crucial to anybody seeking to understand the history of Britain.

Nearly two thousand years ago, during the Roman conquest of Britain, the resistance effort was valiantly lead by the King of the Britons named Caratacus. The Brythonic name “Caratacus” (karatus + akos) means “beloved”. As a result of the ancient and heroic fame of Caratacus his name found frequent use amongst early medieval British kings such as Ceretic Guletic, the founder of the Strathclyde dynasty and correspondent of Saint Patrick. Another ruler of this name was Ceredic ap Gwallog mentioned in sources such as the Welsh Triads. This Ceredic was a ruler of the northern British Kingdom of Elmet and was mentioned by Bede “rege Brettonum Cerdice” “Cerdic King of the Britons”. This example clearly shows how the Anglicised spelling of “Ceredic” is “Cerdic”.

To prove their legitimate pedigree the Kings of Wessex traced their ancestry back to their legendary founder also named “Cerdic”. The founder of the most prestigious Anglo-Saxon dynasty holding a Brythonic name has long puzzled many historians, with many passing comment but not many attempting a deeper investigation. Cerdic had numerous descendants, Kings of Wessex, who also had Brythonic names. This article will outline an explanation for the origins of Cerdic including further implications for the equally curious early Kings of Mercia.

The main source for details on Cerdic and his descendants is the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle (ASC). The earliest relevant entry dating to 495 reads “In this year came two aldormen to Britain, Cerdic and Cynric his son, with five ships, at the place which is called Cerdic’s Shore; and on the same day fought against the Welsh.” This narrative is immediately suspect as no fresh off the boat Germanic warlord would have an unambiguously Brythonic name like Ceredic. Analysis of these early often contradictory entries in the ASC relating to Cerdic have produced a general consensus that “the fifth and sixth century dates were extremely unreliable and had been artificially extended to make it appear that the kingdom was founded at an earlier date than was actually the case”. Dumville concluded by comparing the ASC with the West Saxon Genealogical Regnal List (WSGRL) that Cerdic’s floruit was in fact the 530s.

The ASC also portrays the original core of Wessex as southern Hampshire and the Isle of Wight region. This is in direct contradiction to the reliable narrator Bede who tells us that this region was an independent Jutish province until his lifetime when it was conquered by the West Saxon King Caedwalla in 686. Incidentally Caedwalla was the last king of Wessex with an unambiguously Brythonic name “Cadwallon” (Catu + walos) meaning “Battle Ruler”. The high frequency of “Cerdic” place names in the early ASC entries also points to a reverse engineered narrative based on spurious folk traditions.

As Yorke summarises, the later ASC entries relating to Ceawlin in the late 6^th century “do not suffer from the same problems of credibility” as those relating to his father Cynric and grandfather Cerdic. Plotting the locations of places mentioned in the Ceawlin entries indicates the early core of the kingdom was the upper Thames valley. This conclusion is reinforced by Bede: “At that time, the West Saxons, formerly called Gewisse, in the reign of Cynegils, received the faith of Christ… ...The two kings (Cynegils & Oswald of Northumbria) gave to the bishop the city called Dorchester, there to establish his episcopal see”. In addition to this ecclesiastical evidence the Dorchester-on-Thames and Abingdon region of the upper Thames valley have produced plentiful archaeological evidence for early Saxon settlement.

Dorchester-on Thames sits on the boundary between the pre-Roman tribes of the Dobunni and Catuvellauni as illustrated by the distribution of iron age coinage shown in the figure below. This corresponds to the border between Roman period civitates and provinces. Generally speaking during the Sub-Roman period the south western former province of Britannia Prima was heavily populated by Britons whilst the south eastern former province of Maxima Caesariensis was heavily populated by Anglo-Saxons. As the early core territory of Cerdic’s kingdom sits roughly on the geographical interface between these two ethnic blocs it becomes clear that the origins of the “Gewisse” may be more nuanced than the early ASC entries portray.

In summary precious little can be said for certain about the origins of Cerdic’s dynasty other than its early rulers have Brythonic names (which we will discuss in greater detail later); Cerdic’s floruit was in the 530s; their “tribe” were known as the “Gewisse” until Caedwalla; they emerged from an inland political and ethnic boundary (Gloucestershire-Oxfordshire area) and not from a southern Germanic coastal conquest. This is generally the current academic consensus and is the starting point for further inquiry.

Gewis and Glewis

The first clue to the origins of Cerdic’s dynasty comes from Bede who tells us “Caedwalla, a young man of great vigour, of the royal race of the Gewisse” and that “the West Saxons, formerly called Gewisse”. It is quite clear from these statements that “Gewisse” is an ethnonym for their tribe but not necessarily a place or personal name. Why this “royal race” with Brythonic names like Ceredic and Cadwallon felt the need to rebrand to a more overtly Germanic “West Saxons” is unclear, but distancing themselves from a Brythonic origin cannot be ruled out.

The name “Gewis” or “Giwis” appears in all versions of Cerdic’s pedigree in the position of his grandfather. Sisam studied these pedigrees and by comparing Bernicia with Wessex concluded that prior to Cerdic they were both identical genealogies with the exception that in place of “Gewis” in the Bernician pedigree is “Beornic”. This eponymous ancestor figure “Beornic” giving his name to the kingdom of Bernicia is reflected by the eponymous ancestor figure “Gewis” giving his name to the “Gewissae”. The name “Beornic” and “Bernicia” itself has been demonstrated to actually derive from the older Brythonic predecessor kingdom “Bryneich” meaning “Land of the Gaps”. This Brythonic “Berneich” was reinterpreted as an eponymous founder by the later Anglian people. As Sisam suggests it is generally believed that “Gewis” fulfils a similar role in the Gewisse pedigree and was not a real historical ancestor of Cerdic but mimicking Bernicia was inserted as a mythical founder figure.

There is little else in any other English source to tell us the origin of the terms “Gewis” or “Gewisse”. It is most commonly accepted, as outlined by Coates, as a “nominalisation of the adjective gewis”. This adjective is from the Old English “gewiss” meaning “sure, known, certain”. This is a neat and likely the correct solution but before it is considered case closed it is worth looking at some Welsh sources. It is also worth noting that Old English “gewiss” meaning “known” is cognate with the Brythonic “gwis” also meaning “known”. This “Gewis” or “Gwis” could be a useful mutually intelligible term (denoting known, sure, certain or reliable allies) if as some have suggested the Gewisse were a British aristocracy using Saxon federates.

One medieval writer called Alanus de Insulis explicitly called the Gewisse “a people of the Britons” although this statement seems to be based on the highly dubious authority of Geoffrey of Monmouth (GoM).

In the pre-Galfridian Historia Brittonum (HB) Nennius recites Vortigern’s pedigree culminating in the eponymous ancestor figure “Gloui”. Nennius continues “...four brothers, who built Gloiuda, a great city upon the banks of the river Severn, and in British is called Cair Gloui, in Saxon, Gloucester. Enough has been said of Vortigern.” The real etymology of Gloucester is from the Brythonic “gloyw” meaning “shining”. The takeaway point here is that Welsh tradition placed Vortigern’s dynasty and centre of power at Gloucester which was believed to be named after an eponymous ancestor “Gloui”.

In Historia Regum Britanniae (HRB) GoM modifies this tradition somewhat. He claims the legendary King Arviragus married a daughter of the Emperor Claudius: “She was named Gewissa… ...After they were married… ...he suggested to Claudius that they build there a city to perpetuate the memory of so happy a union. Claudius agreed and ordered the construction of the city, named Kaerglou, or Gloucester… ...Others claim that it took its name from Claudius’ son duke Gloius”. Due to scribal error and interpretation variant spellings “Geuuissa”, “Geuissa”, “Genuissa” are also commonly used but following the authority of the Reeve & Wright edition of HRB we will assume GoM’s original intent was the name “Gewissa”. GoM was in the habit of inventing ancient eponymous characters of his own to explain the origins of place names. This is almost certainly another Galfridian innovation attempting to link the Gewissi to the city of Gloucester via the fictional “Gewissa”. The motivation for this invention becomes clear later on in the HRB when GoM calls Vortigern the “consul of the Gewissi”. Exactly why GoM was so adamant to link the Gewisse to Gloucester and Vortigern is unclear for now.

In the Welsh translation of HRB called the “Brut y Brenhinedd” “consul of the Gewissi” is rendered “Earl of Ergig and Euas”. “Euas” is a region close to the modern Anglo-Welsh border preserved in the modern Herefordshire place name “Ewyas” with historical forms including “Ewis”.

As previously discussed the term “Gewissi” fell out of use and was replaced with the term “West Saxons” by the time Bede was writing. However Asser, the Welsh biographer of Alfred the Great, tells us “(G)euuis” continued use amongst the Britons in later centuries. This is demonstrated by the entries recording the death of Alfred the Great calling him king of “Giuoys” in the Annales Cambriae and “Iwys” in the Brut Y Tywysogion. In the 10^th century Welsh poem “Armes Prydein” the term is spelled “Iwys” and “Iwis”. In some Brythonic contexts the initial G is dropped. It is therefore easy to see how the form “Iwis” and the Herefordshire place name “Euas” developed from earlier forms (G)iuoys => Iwys/ Iwis & (G)euuis => Ewis/ Euas.

Ifor Williams comments on the influence the pre-Galfridian poem “Armes Prydein” had on GoM: “if he had nevertheless seen the allusions in the Armes to the Iwys in Caer Geri (Cirencester)… ...it is perhaps no wonder that he should have supposed that the Gewissi lived in a district that contained Gloucester” hence the title “consul of the Gewissi” for Vortigern. It should be stated that the Gewisse did actually inhabit the Gloucester-Cirencester region but only post-577 according to the ASC (and possibly earlier as we shall see).

This association in Welsh tradition between the Gewissi and the Gloucester-Cirencester region may actually stem from an older source than the Armes Prydein even. The Life of Cadog tells us that the Kingdom of Glywysing in south east Wales was founded by an eponymous ancestor figure called “Glywys” (spelled “Gliuguis”). As stated by both Koch and Bartrum the name “Glywys” actually means “people of Gloucester” from the Latin “Glev-enses” just as similar names like “Cludwys” mean “people of the Clyde.

Ifor Williams writes that in the orthography of Old Welsh the letters “gu” were used to represent “w” e.g. in Asser Saint Dewi was written as “Degui” & Gewis as “Geguuis”. The Old Welsh written forms of Glywysing include “Gleguissing” (Glewis-ing) from HB, “Gleguising” (Glewis-ing) from Asser and also “Glewisicg” (Glewis-ing) from Vita Cadoci. Other forms include “Gliguis” (Gliwis) on an inscription from Ogmore Castle and “Gliwis” from Bonedd Y Saint. This gives us the two archaic forms “Glewis” and “Gliwis”. There is a clear similarity between the eponymous founding ancestor “Giwis” or “Gewis” from English tradition with the eponymous founding ancestor “Gliwis” or “Glewis” from Welsh tradition both even geographically overlapping in Gloucester.

This comparison lead Jenkins to propose that “Glewis” was the original form of “Gewis” but through a convoluted series of scribal errors lead to Bede publishing the incorrect form which superseded the older correct form (Glewis mistaken for Giewis giving forms such as Giuoys, Gewis, Giwis, Iwys/ Iwis, Iewisse etc). This theory is plausible given “Gewisse” was already relatively unknown and unused by Bede’s time. “Glewis” (“People of Gloucester”) is a very plausible ethnonym for Cerdic’s dynastic territory which did emerge around Gloucestershire. It is certainly more meaningful and coherent than “Gewis”. While possible this theory isn’t nearly as convincing as the simple solution proposed by Coates that Gewis is from the Old English adjective “Gewiss”. Despite this it is impossible to overlook the sheer similarity and overlap of Glewis and Gewis. In such close geographical proximity it seems very unlikely to be a coincidence that these two eponymous founders organically emerged independently. Given that “Cer(e)dic” itself is a Brythonic name a purely Germanic “Gewis” is unlikely. For these reasons I believe it is possible to harmonise both Jenkins and Coates theories. If Cerdic’s dynasty started as Brythonic “people of Gloucester” (Glewis) and their kingdom gradually Anglicised over time including their language then at a certain point the original meaning of the name “Glewis” would be lost and vulnerable to corruption. Anglo-Saxon reinterpretation of Brythonic place names to make them intelligible with folk etymology was a common phenomena e.g. Eoforwic (From AS “Boar Town”) was originally Eborakom/ Efrawg (From Brythonic “Place of Yews”). Eoforwic is phonetically similar to Efrawg but has changed meaning and etymology. I propose “Glewis” (“People of Gloucester”) was Anglicised to “Gewis” (“Known Allies”) via folk etymology as understanding of Brythonic language and origins faded and a Saxon identity grew.

This conclusion that Cerdic’s dynasty emerged from the “people of Gloucester” (“Glewis”) may vindicate and explain GoM’s similar assertion that the Gewissi were from Gloucester and Vortigern was their one time ruler. Something that further reinforces this idea is the more credible Nennius writing in the HB that “the Saxon chief [Hengist] prepared an entertainment, to which he invited the king [Vortigern], his officers, and Ceredic, his interpreter… ...Vortigern, at the instigation of the devil, and enamoured with the beauty of the damsel, demanded her, through the medium of his interpreter”. Some rescensions of the HB even spell the name as “Cerdic” and add “no Briton before him knew the Saxon language. He strives to understand the Saxon speech, picking up what comes to him by chance”. It has often been claimed this Briton named Cerdic is a confused memory of the historical Gewisse Cerdic due to the unique role as a British-Saxon intermediary inherent in both Cerdic’s. While misplaced chronologically and historically it certainly indicates a genuine British tradition of some Ceredic having a unique and close relationship to a group of Saxons. If this is the case it may also preserve the idea that the historical Gewissi Cerdic had some connection to Vortigern of Gloucester too.

Caradog Freichfras

Before we uncover this direct Vortigern-Cerdic connection first we will compare some Welsh and English traditions from the Severn area to see some eyebrow raising similarities between Cerdic and a Welsh legendary figure sharing the same name “Caradog Freichfras”. Caradog Freichfras (the epithet Freichfras meaning “Strong Arm”) is commonly found in Arthurian literature and is even the subject of his own bizarre romance. He is also found on the fringes of history as a shadowy founder figure for the Kingdoms of Glywysing (Glewis-ing) and Gwent which were often ruled together.

The ninth entry in the genealogical document JS MS. 20 lists Caradog Freichfras as the first king of Glywysing (Glewis-ing) before explaining how the kingdom was renamed to Morgannwg in later centuries. The fifth entry in the same document listing prominent descendants of Glewis tells us “Enenni” was mother to Meurig ap Caradog Freichfras. Enenni was daughter to Cynfarch Oer and sister to Urien Rheged (b.520-ish) approximately placing Caradog’s floruit in the late 530s. This puts him roughly in line with Dumville’s calculated date of 538 for Cerdic’s ascension to kingship. On top of sharing the same name and floruit, Cer(e)dic was founding king of Gewis and Caradog was founding king of Glewis.

The Life of Tatheus says “Caradoci regis filii Ynyr nobilissimi donatione” which as Bartrum states “the four nouns and one adjective in the genitive lead to ambiguity” hence Egerton Phillimore’s suggestion “most noble Ynyr son of king Caradog” as the preferred translation. This seems likely given we know from other sources Ynyr was succeeded by his son Iddon and that Caradog is usually given a different father. “Ynyr” isn’t an intelligible Brythonic name and there is no other real recorded uses. Some have speculated this is an error for the commonly used “Cynyr”. In fact this exact error is documented in the Bonedd Y Saint in which entry 92 records a “Ynyr of Caer Goch” whereas entry 100 correctly records “Cynyr of Caer Goch” in reference to King of Dyfed Cynyr Ceinfarfog. The first letter of names in genealogical manuscripts is commonly omitted as scribes would fail to infill with decorative capital letters. In conclusion Caradog Freichfras had a son called “Cynyr”.

(C)ynyr is mentioned in a poem from the Book of Taliesin titled “Teithi etmygan”: “One of a brilliant nature, an eager leader of an army: the red reaper of Iwys, those who defiled him became bloodstained; a battle in Harddnenwys, (C)ynyr stabbed them”. We get another reference to (C)ynyr in Buchedd Beuno which informs us he was ruler of the previously mentioned “Euas” (district in Herefordshire) as well as Gwent. Whether ruler of “Ewis” or red reaper of “(G)ewis” it seems (C)ynyr was strongly associated in some way with both regions.

The ASC and other sources tell us Cerdic’s son and heir was named “Cynric”. While there is a valid Germanic etymology for this name as the PASE database tells us it doesn’t see any real use outside Wessex. This idiosyncratic Gewisse name has also been proposed to originally derive from the Brythonic name “Cunorix” which developed into middle Welsh “Cynyr” meaning “Hound King”.

We now have Cynyr son of Caradog ruler of Euas attacking the roughly contemporary Cynyr son of Cer(e)dig ruler of (G)euuis. These two persons have clear parallels and one wonders if they are simply memories of the same individual on different sides of the Severn.

Some sources such as the Anglian Collection pedigrees (ACP), WSGRL and Asser’s Life of King Alfred list another son of Cerdic called “Creoda”. The exact placement and historicity of Creoda is difficult to determine as other sources do not mention him but for the sake of this section we will assume he was a real son of Cerdic (Creoda is discussed more later in this article in relation to Mercia). Other sources such as the ASC give us spelling variations “Cryda” and “Crida”.

Crida is probably another Brythonic name attested elsewhere such as the Cornish Saint Crida. The etymology of the name is uncertain, possibly from the Brythonic “cred” meaning “faith” or “cryd” meaning “trembling”. Neither of these is a common name element. Names ending in an “a” often indicate it is a hypocoristic form. There is a Saint Cwrda attested in Wales who seems to be equivalent to the Cornish St Crida. Cwrda is a hypocoristic form of the name Cawrdaf or Cawrda. As recorded in the Triads, ByS and other sources the Welsh St Cwrda (Cawrdaf) is also son of Caradog Freichfras. There is now three correlating names: Cwrda (Cryda) and Cynyr (Cynric) both sons of Caradog (Cerdic).

In the next confused generations there are less similarities but it is still worth a brief overview. All sources agree “Ceawlin” was the son of Cynric. According to Bede and the ASC Ceawlin was the dominant southern power in his time, ruling an “imperium” as “bretwalda” (Ruler of Britain). The first element of his name “Ceawa” appears in numerous place names e.g. Ceawa’s Cumb (Chacombe) which Coates says is an Anglicisation of the Brythonic name “Caw” meaning “Giant”. The second element is harder to explain but as “Ceawa” is attested as a name in its own right the “-lin” is most likely just an Anglicising diminutive suffix therefore Ceawlin is probably just from the Brythonic “Caw”.

The ASC tells us “Cutha was Ceawlin’s brother” and “He (Ceolwulf) was son of Cutha”. While not a perfect parallel Cwrda (Cawrdaf) ap Caradog Freichfras is recorded in ByS and Pedigrees of the Welsh Patriarchs (PP) to have sons named “Caw”, “Cathan” and “Coleddog”. While the familial relationships differ: Caw (Ceawlin); Cathan (Cutha) and Coleddog (Ceolwulf possibly a calque of Coleddog) they seem to be at least roughly generationally aligned. Viewed cumulatively this is another admittedly weaker parallel.

As a brief aside whilst on the topic of names, it is worth mentioning the other notable Gewisse rulers with Brythonic names. “Cynegils” is another that is difficult to interpret but it has been suggested to derive from the attested Brythonic “Cynglas”, Cyn (Hound) + gelos/ glas (Green-blue). A literal translation of the Old English elements Cenwalh/ Coenwalh/ Cynewalh (Cyne + wealh) is “Royal Welshman”. Koch has made the case that the -wealh element was used in place of the Brythonic element -fael (Brythonic -fael is sometimes spelled -wael) making Cynewalh equivalent to attested name “Cynfael”. “Ceol” is probably from the Brythonic “Coel” meaning “belief” or “omen”. Finally another member of the Wessex family called Ceadda (also spelled Cadda or Chad) is a hypocoristic derived from a Brythonic “Cad-” (meaning “battle”) type name like Cadwallon.

The Breton poem “Lay of the Horn” by Robert Biket tells us “Caradoc, saith the king (Arthur)… ...Keep you Cirencester; two years is it since I gave it in charge to you, and never will I take it from you, I give it to you for life and to your children”. As a 12^th century Arthurian work it is subject to the influence of GoM who also links his “Careticus” to the city of Cirencester. However Breton lay poems usually derive from vernacular folk traditions and the Modena Archivolt featuring Caradog alongside Arthur indicates a pre-Galfridian circulation of these traditions.

Taking this as a genuine tradition of Caradog Freichfras and his descendants ruling Cirencester leads to another interesting comparison. Cirencester was the Roman provincial capital of Brittania Prima and when paired with the nearby Colonia city of Gloucester made this district critical for any post-Roman dynasty seeking a regional overlordship such as Vortigern of Gloucester. Evidence such as the post-Roman mosaics at Chedworth Villa (Ceadda i.e. Brythonic Cad- name) show the region retained a significant degree of high status Romanitas.

Cirencester itself has produced archaeological evidence of post-Roman occupation with the amphitheatre repurposed as a fortification including the erection of new buildings. Breeze makes the case that Gildas completed his education in Cirencester based on a reference to a (C)iren in the Vita Gildae. Given the demonstrated familiarity with the Severn region in his writing this is very credible. According to Breeze Gildas was writing in 536 making him a contemporary of Cerdic (& Caradog Freichfras). In chapter 92 of DEB Gildas writes “We greatly desire that the enemies of the Church (Pagan Saxons) be our enemies also, with no kind of alliance”. This condemnation alludes that there is an ongoing treaty agreement between some group of Britons and Saxons in the time and vicinity of Gildas’ writing.

It has been frequently suggested that Cerdic Gewising arose from such an alliance. As outlined Caradog Freichfras was the first king of Glewising ruling a large area that spanned from south east Wales over the Severn to Cirencester incorporating Gloucester (which is logical given Glewis means “people of Gloucester”). Two late manuscripts also call Caradog “Earl of Hereford” and “Prince between Wye and Severn”. Critically the Buchedd Collen tells us Caradog’s father “was married to Margred, daughter of the Earl of Rhydychen (Oxford)”. As previously discussed the upper Thames valley around Dorchester and Abingdon in Oxfordshire was settled by a population that resembles a Saxon federate appendage to Britannia Prima. The importance of a recorded marriage alliance between the Saxons of Oxfordshire with British aristocracy from Cirencester-Glewising shouldn’t be understated. This union produced Caradog Freichfras who is becoming increasingly synonymous with Cer(e)dic Gewising.

The final Cerdic-Caradog convergence relates to the ASC entry for 577: “Ceawlin fought against the Britons, and they slew three kings, Conmail, and Condidan, and Farinmail, at the place which is called Deorham, and took three cities from them, Gloucester, and Cirencester, and Bath.” It has been inferred from this entry that Cynfael (Conmail) was Sub-King of Gloucester, Cynheiddon (Condidan) Sub-King of Cirencester and Ffernfael (Farinmail) Sub-King of Bath. While not a commonly used name, the ByS lists a “Cynheiddon” son of Cynyr ap Caradog Freichfras. As previously mentioned the “Lay of the Horn” states “I give it (Cirencester) to you (Caradog Freichfras) for life and to your children”. It seems very feasible that the Cynheiddon son of Cynyr ap Caradog listed in ByS inherited rule of Cirencester and is the same Cynheiddon listed as deposed in Cirencester in the ASC. Ceawlin (Caw) son of Cynric (Cynyr) son of Cerdic (Caradog) fighting a Cynheiddon son of Cynyr (Cynric) son of Caradog (Cer(e)dic) for control of Cirencester should then be viewed as an internecine conflict rather than an inter-ethnic one.

Furthermore in the PP we are told Gloyw was son of Caw son of Cwrda son of Caradog Freichfras. As previously mentioned “Gloyw” is the eponymous founder of Gloucester and not a real personal name. It is therefore interesting to see the Welsh doppelgänger of Ceawlin, the conqueror of Gloucester, attributed this eponymous son. If Caw is Ceawlin then Gloyw is probably a mistaken memory of his acquisition of Gloucester.

If the battle of Deorham was an internecine conflict between Cynheiddon and Caw then it may be that the Welsh pedigrees preserve a more accurate genealogy as it is unlikely (but not impossible) two brothers (Cynheiddon ap Cynyr vs. Caw ap Cynric) would be on opposite sides of a battle whereas two cousins is more feasible (Cynheiddon ap Cynyr vs. Caw ap Cwrda). As early genealogical pedigrees were often incorrectly conflated with regnal lists they frequently contain mistakes.

In summary the evidence equating Cerdic Gewising with Caradog Glewising is fragmentary and tenuous in places but strong enough to conclude they were, at least in part, traditions remembering the same historical individual. This composite Ceredic was a British Overking ruling primarily the people of Gloucester (Glewis) and Cirencester but also extending his rule westwards founding the kingdom of Glewising. Ceredic may have had a mother from the Oxfordshire based Saxon foederati. The descendants of Ceredic engaged in some kind of internecine conflict from which multiple factions developed. One of these factions had a strong alliance with the Oxfordshire Saxons and this group went on to become the kingdom of Wessex.

Caradog ap Alauc

Before we unravel the sequence of events comprising this internecine conflict first we will attempt to decipher the real genealogy of the composite Ceredic. Welsh tradition preserves two distinct genealogies tracing Caradog Friechfras’ ancestors back to two prominent northern figures either Coel Godebog or Cunedda Wledig. These are both very likely to be legendary fabrications. In most sources Caradog Freichfras is made son of Llyr Marini. “Llyr” is a Brythonic term meaning “the sea” and the epithet “Marini” is also a Latinisation of “the sea”. “Llyr” is not commonly used as a personal name with the only other real example being the Mabonogion euhemerised deity Llyr the father of Bran and Manawydan (where Manawydan ap Llyr is equivalent to the better known Irish Manannan mac Lir). In the Mabinogion tradition Bran ap Llyr has a son named Caradog based on the historical Caratacus ap Cunobelinus. It is likely Llyr Marini as a father of Caradog Freichfras is a confusion based on this mythology. Caradog Freichfras was mistakenly conflated with Caradog descendent of Llyr. Therefore this mythological ancestor “Llyr” can be rejected as a genuine patronym and the search for the composite Ceredic’s father refocused back to English sources.

The ASC, WSGRL and Asser all list the name of Cerdic’s father as “Elesa”. Most attempts to identify Cerdic’s father have used this patronym. The most common suggestion is that the Sub-Roman British ruler “Elafius” mentioned in the Vita Germani and Bede could have been a scribal error for “Elasius” and thus identified with “Elesa”. Breeze has demonstrated this is historically and philologically impossible. The floruit of Elafius is nearly a century too early and his name derives from the Roman “Elaphus” (Greek “Elaphos” meaning “Deer”).

A more careful look at the genealogical sources is necessary. To simplify the modern academic consensus based on the work of Sisam, all names prior to Cerdic in the pedigrees are suspected to have been borrowed from the pedigree of Bernicia which are mainly composed of mythological or eponymous figures like “Woden” or “Gewis”. It may be the case that no accurate patronym has been preserved. Sisam deduced that the ACP pedigrees contained the oldest version in which the name of Cerdic’s father is listed as “Cerdic Alucing” i.e. “Aluca” (or “Aluc”) not “Elesa”. The corresponding name in the Bernician pedigrees from which it was supposedly borrowed are “Alusa” in the ACP and “Aloc” in the ASC. It is curious why any educated genealogical compiler borrowing from the Bernician pedigree would choose to insert Cerdic in this generation which misaligns the comparative dating by three generations. It is also curious why the original and oldest Bernician “Alusa” seems to have been corrupted to the Wessex “Aluca” with a “c”, a form which was then reborrowed back as the Bernician “Aloc” by the Wessex compilers of the ASC but simultaneously corrupted to “Elesa” in the same document. It is an incoherent mess. One solution is that the original compiler of the oldest and most authoritative Wessex pedigree had a genuine patronym for Cerdic as “Aluc” and seeing the similar form “Alusa” in the Bernician pedigree borrowed the earlier names to fill in the unknown blanks. This would explain why Cerdic is inserted multiple generations too early relative to Ida of Bernicia and why the name “Alusa” wasn’t borrowed exactly but introducing a corrupt “Aluc”. Unfortunately there is too much uncertainty to even conclude which dynasty the name “Aluc” originally belonged to or even in which direction borrowing occurred as both pedigrees were compiled around the same time by the same people while Northumbria and Wessex were allied which further motivated the genealogical merger.

A philological analysis of the two variations of the name Elesa/ Alusa and Aluc/ Aloc actually indicates they may have originally belonged to the Wessex pedigree. Neither form fits well with a Germanic root but both fit well with known Brythonic names. The Brythonic name “Elise” is a credible root for “Elesa” and is commonly used amongst Welsh dynasties, most prominently the Vortigern descended Cadelling rulers of Powys. Unfortunately there is no suitable candidate for a father of Cerdic found with this name. “Aluc” as we shall see also fits with a known Brythonic name. As shown above Brythonic names are common in the Wessex pedigrees but not in the pedigrees of Bernicia. This makes Elesa/ Aluc more likely to have originally belonged to Wessex than Bernicia.

Without overthinking things we will simply use the oldest and most authoritative variation of the name “Aluc” to search for a possible identity for Cerdic’s father, as an exercise if nothing else. To recap the requirements for a suitable candidate: must be named something compatible with “Aluc”; must credibly be father of the composite Ceredic; must be compatible with a 530s floruit for Ceredic; must be connected in some way to “Glewis” i.e. people of Gloucester and possibly connected to Vortigern (recall Vortigern’s “interpreter” named Ceredic). An individual that ticks all these boxes would be a strong candidate and as it happens there is a perfect match.

In the “Vita Sancte Wenefrede” we are told “Caradog son of Alauc, born of royal ancestry” attempted to seduce Saint Winifred. This “Alauc” is the only independently recorded person in English or Welsh tradition with this name. The equivalence of “Caradog son of Alauc” to Cerdic son of Aluc is almost too good to be true. “Caradog son of Alauc” having his advances spurned “caught up to her with a sword, cutting off her head”. Saint Beuno performed a miracle by resurrecting Winifred “the body regained life with all its faculties, with nothing but a slender scar being evident on her neck. But the ground stained with her blood burst open, and a rushing spring gushed forth watering the ground in that place.” This is the founding myth for St Winifred’s Well in Holywell, Flintshire. Winifred is from the Brythonic Gwenfrewi meaning “blessed stream” a common hydronym in Wales. Miraculous tales in hagiographies are highly questionable but the historical figures mentioned within are usually real persons.

The name “Alauc” is widely attested throughout Roman period Britain and Gaul with inscriptions to “Alaucus” found at Wroxeter, Silchester, Ilkley and elsewhere. Watkins writing on the sound change “Alaucus beside Alacca” says “that in the Gaulish and British forms above a pattern -vC- has been substituted for the regularly developed -vCC-”. It is probably a similar sound shift between the original Brythonic “Alauc” and the “Aluca” or “Aluc” of the ACP. “Alauc” is clearly compatible with “Aluc” and he clearly fathered a “Caradog”. This satisfies our first two requirements.

This story featuring Caradog and Gwenfrewi is repeated in various sources but only Peniarth MS.131 repeats the patronym “Alauc”, here recte “Owain Pennyferw, who killed Caradog son of Alaog, king of Pen Alaog.” “Pen Alaog” is the modern place name Hawarden with corrupt recorded historical forms “Pennard Halawg” and “Pennard (A)laoc” in ByT. Both Holywell and Pen Alaog are in the furthest north east corner of modern Wales which was the historical cantref of Tegeingl bounded by the Clywd to the west. The 21^st entry in an obscure Welsh manuscript called “Achau Brenhinoedd a Thywysogion Cymru” (ABT) (”Pedigrees of the Kings and Princes of Wales”) under the heading “Gwehelyth Dyffryn Clywd” (“The lineage of the Vale of Clwyd”) lists the following pedigree: “Alaoc (F)wr ap Iddig ap Cadell Deyrnllug”. The name “Alaoc” is also spelled “Alac”/ “Alawc”/ “Alawg” in other versions. The epithet “Fwr” means “the Stout”. This “Alaoc” from the Vale of Clwyd is the same “Alauc” king of “Pen Alaog” father of “Caradog”.

Caradog ap Alauc being situated in the Vale of Clywd doesn’t align well with a ruler centred in Gloucester-Cirencester. The rulers traditionally associated with the Vale of Clywd were the Dogfeiling dynasty. We learn from “Peniarth MS.131” that Owain Pennyferw’s father was named “Tyfid”, furthermore from “Buchedd Beuno” that “Gwenfrewi” was also daughter of “Tyfid” who was son of an unidentified “Eliud”. According to “Achau’r Saint” Gwenfrewi was daughter of Gwenlo who was daughter of Bugi who was the father of Beuno. The full pedigree of Beuno and Gwenlo going back to Cadell is given in the “Buchedd Beuno”. Attempts to identify Gwenfrewi’s paternal grandfather “Eliud” with the son of Cynan Garwyn are flawed as there is six generations from Eliud ap Cynan to Cadell and only five from Gwenfrewi to Cadell. It is unlikely Gwenfrewi was in the generation above her own grandfather. This “Eliud” hasn’t been definitively identified but the “Elud” listed as a descendent of Dogfael ap Cunedda and ruler of the Vale of Clywd in JC 50 and ABT 27 fits perfectly both generationally and geographically (Clywd). See the figure below to visualise the pedigrees discussed above.

According to “Marwnad Cynddylan” the Dogfeiling were fierce rivals of the Cadelling “the hereditary ruler of Dogfeiling, a terror to Cadell’s descendants”. Caradog ap Alauc was a member of the Cadelling dynasty as mentioned above. This makes it likely that the loose memory of Caradog the Cadelling clashing with Owain Pennyferw the Dogfeiling was a battle or raid of some kind. It is therefore likely Caradog was an external invader raiding Dogfeiling lands and not a local ruler himself. These events were remembered only in local Flintshire tradition and Caradog was incorrectly relocated locally. These erroneous relocations are a common phenomena in Welsh tradition.

The Cadelling dynasty is mostly known for ruling the kingdom of Powys but, as we will discuss later, Koch has demonstrated this was only from the time of Cynan Garwyn onwards. In the late 6^th century Taliesin poem “Trawsgan Cynan Garwyn” (TCG), following Koch’s interpretation, we are told Cynan was in the process of adding “Cornouii” to his rule. “Cornouii” was the Sub-Roman successor to the large Roman period civitate of the same name encompassing mostly modern Shropshire, Cheshire, Staffordshire, Powys and included the Roman cities of Chester and Wroxeter. Cynan is in fact referred to as “the leader of Heechan” which is modern day Herefordshire and represents the core territory of the Cadelling dynasty at this time. The “Heechan” (Also called “Western Hecani”, “Westerna” or “Magonsaete” in other sources) were within the Roman period civitatas of the Dobunni. The civitate of the Dobunni was comprised roughly of Gloucestershire (later Hwicce) and Herefordshire (Heechan). The Sub-Roman Heechan were most likely ruled by Sub-Kings subordinate to the rulers in Gloucester-Cirencester (Hwicce).

As our Caradog son of Alauc is listed as a different branch of the pre-Cynan Cadelling dynasty it is most likely he was also based somewhere within the twin kingdoms of the Dobunni i.e. Heechan (Herefordshire) and Hwicce (Gloucestershire). A raid conducted by Caradog ap Alauc on the rival Dogfeiling of north east Wales would be entirely in line with expected behaviours for a Cadelling. As previously stated Caradog Freichfras is also called “Earl of Hereford” and “Prince between Wye and Severn”. Furthermore in the PP we are told “Caradog Freichfras… ...king of the North and Earl of Hereford; and from his name was bestowed upon it Caer Caradog, and today it is called Hereford.” This reference seems to explicitly outline Caradog Freichfras’ sphere of influence extended into north Wales. This dovetails perfectly with the likely Herefordshire-Gloucestershire based Cadelling Caradog ap Alauc raider of north Wales. The Book of Llandaff (BoL) also records a land grant to Saint Teilo by King Iddon son of (C)ynyr ap Caradog. In the original manuscript the place name given is “porthalauc” which seems to be comprised of two elements Porth + Alauc meaning “Gateway of Alauc”. This is modern “Llantilio Pertholey” not far from “Ewis” and Herefordshire. As “Alauc” is such a rare name only attributed to a single historical figure this may indicate his past presence within the domain of (C)ynyr ap Caradog. Therefore there is no geographical objection to identifying Caradog ap Alauc with Caradog Freichfras and our composite Ceredic.

To accurately calculate the floruit of Caradog ap Alauc we must compare it to the better known branch of the Cadelling dynasty, namely the kings of Powys. Multiple contradictory pedigrees exist for the Cadelling of Powys but a good starting point is the Pillar of Elise which was erected in the early 9^th century by the Cadelling themselves so it represents an authoritative contemporary genealogical document. While it doesn’t preserve a full pedigree it does confirm the Cadelling considered themselves descendants of Vortigern. The two Cadelling pedigrees preserved in the Harleian MS omit Vortigern. This is because these pedigrees were composed for the kings of Gwynedd after they annexed Powys. Vortigern was portrayed as a foolish villain in the HB, which was a work of Gwynedd court propaganda, thus they didn’t wish to connect their own lineage with him. For this reason we can dismiss the Harleian pedigrees as inaccurate. This leaves us with the JS MS. 20 pedigree which appears to be accurate with the exception of omitting Cyngen the grandfather of Cynan Garwyn. We know from the aforementioned 6^th century poem TCG that Cynan was son of Brochwal and grandson of Cyngen. Therefore we will use the rectified JS MS. 20 pedigree (inserting Cyngen) to calculate the floruit of Caradog ap Alauc. Selyf ap Cynan who fought and died at the Battle of Chester in the early 7^th century provides an approximate datum of 600 as the beginning of his floruit. Using a generational increment of 25 years for the sake of ease we can calculate a date of approximately 525 (600 - (25*3)) for the floruit of Caradog ap Alauc. This date of 525 for Caradog ap Alauc is perfectly compatible with Dumville’s proposed 530s for Cerdic son of Aluc.

While the “Cadelling” took their dynastic name from “Cadell Deyrnllug”, his grandfather at the beginning of the pedigree is “Vortigern”. This satisfies our final requirements of a suspected link between the composite Ceredic and Vortigern (the role as Vortigern’s Saxon intermediary given to a “Ceredic” in the HB). As we have already established earlier Vortigern was from the “people of Gloucester” (Glewis). In turn Caradog ap Alauc ultimately also belongs to the “Glewis” along with the rest of his pre-Cynan Cadelling kin of Heechan (Herefordshire).

There is a limited cast of recurring characters present in the hagiographies of the Welsh saints. For example the (C)ynyr without patronym in Buchedd Beuno is generally assumed to be the same (C)ynyr ap Caradog from Life of Tathan (LoT). It isn’t an unreasonable assumption that the Caradog without patronym mentioned in the LoT is the same person as Caradog ap Alauc in Life of Winifred and Buchedd Beuno. The hagiographers were drawing on the same pool of legendary figures but often portrayed in different guises. The Life of Cadog (LoC) identifies King Gwynllyw as father of Cadog and ruler of a Sub-Kingdom of Glewising called Gwynllwg. The LoT mentions King Gwynllyw as a semi-hostile contemporary of (C)ynyr and his father Caradog, portrayed here as rulers in neighbouring Gwent. This Caradog is securely identified with Caradog Freichfras named as the first overking of Glewising in JS MS. 20. Further confirmation comes in the LoC itself which states rule of Gwynllwg passed from Gwynllyw to Meurig ap Caradog Freichfras (and all Glewising according to JS MS. 20). Gwent was most likely a subkingdom of Glewising at this time with Caradog as overking. The LoC names Gwynllyw’s father as “Glewis” and grandfather as “Solor”. As Bartrum tells us “Glewis” means “people of Gloucester” and “Solor” derives from the tribal ethnonym “Silure”, both are fictional eponymous figures which points to this being a fabricated pedigree. The ByS gives us an alternative pedigree “Gwynllyw ap Glewis ap Tegid ap Cadell Deyrnllug”. The “Buchedd Beuno” gives the same pedigree but correctly omits “Glewis”. If “Glewis” was originally a territorial epithet belonging to Gwynllyw later mistaken for a patronym this would explain the confusion. If Gwynllyw Glewis (ap Tegid ap Cadell Deyrnllug) were a grandson of Cadell Deyrnllug it would make him a first cousin once removed and contemporary of Caradog (ap Alauc ap Iddig ap Cadell Deyrnllug). Accepting these proposed pedigrees would explain the strange geographical and hereditary entanglement between the family of Gwynllyw and Caradog that is present in the hagiographies. It would also strongly imply that Caradog ap Alauc was a southern ruler around Glewis and the same person as Caradog Freichfras, in other words the composite Ceredic.

Caradog ap Alauc fits all the necessary criteria for a genuine preservation of a genealogy for the composite Ceredic. If therefore Cerdic Gewising was a direct patrilineal descendant of the legendary Vortigern it would explain a lot of the mysteries previously outlined and would speak to the incredible resilience of powerful aristocratic dynasties. The deepest roots of the Kings of Wessex and Kings of England seem to lie within this ancient British dynasty.

Part two to be released next week.

Errors on my part here in this rendering aside, pay attention to the last letter. Arthwyr or Arthwys? How easy of a mistake to make.

On to the reconstructions.

As I am including eight reconstructions in a single article, I will only include a brief description of each figure shown, who they were and when they ruled.

Ceneu ap Coel

Son of Coel Hen. Ceneu seems to have continued his father’s work of unifying and refortifying the lands around Hadrian’s wall (you can read about that here), bringing what would become Rheged under Coeling influence as it seems his son Gwrwst, great-grandfather of Urien was established as the first Coeling king of Rheged. Upon his father’s death some time around 440, Ceneu became king. Unlike the figures of his grand-children and great-grandchildren’s generation he does not feature in much poetry, except for one disputed reference in one of the Urien poems. This disputed reference has been used to claim that Ceneu is a back-dated genealogical link stemming from confusing a word for a name. This however is disputed, as Ceneu does become a common name amongst the later Coeling princes, possibly named for this son of Coel. Church tradition has Ceneu abdicating as king and retiring to Wales as a monk, founding the a church known as Llangeneu in modern Clydau. This is a common motif attributed to many figures, and while it is possible, it is not a certainty that this attribution is true.

Ceneu is depicted here with a helmet of the Iatrus type, with a detachable crest, which seems to have been held internally with tabs slotted into small slots in the top of the helmet, then folded over. He wears high-status scale armor, and a sword similar to the Feltwell Spatha.

Mar ap Ceneu

The Son of Ceneu ap Coel, very few references to him exist, and he is seen in the pedigrees under the name Mar and also Maeswig/Masguid Gloff (the lame). From Mar’s descendants we can conclude that he ruled the eastern lands of the Coeling, in what would eventually become Ebrauc, and Elmet, and possibly the Pennines, while his brother Gwrwst ruled the western portion in Rheged. Mar may feature in the Stanzas of the Graves, though the parentage is garbled. We do get a bit more info from an odd and generally untrustworthy place, Geoffrey of Monmouth’s Historia Regum Brittaniae, where Geoffrey gives an account of a wicked king Morvidus, who makes battle upon a monster from the Irish sea. This may be wholly invented by Geoffrey, but it may also contain a kernel of folkloric memory of the onset of the Irish invasions that eventually led to the founding to Scottish Dal Riata. With his rule beginning sometime between 460 and 470, he would have been contemporary with Fergus Mor of Dal Riata, and Fergus may be the ‘great beast’ that Morvidus falls in battle to.

Mar is depicted in the reconstruction with an early continental style spangenhelm, simplified scale armor without the upper collar reinforcements, while still bearing uncommon and high-status greaves. He wears a sword of the Kragehul bog type, and carries a Draco, inherited from the Romans.

Llenneac ap Mar

The son of Mar ap Ceneu, Llenneac seems to have been the first king of Elmet. Like his father, there are few references outside of the pedigrees, however Llenneac does get referenced in a song dedicated to his son Guallauc in the book of Taliesin. Outside of this we can speculate however. There is an early figure in Arthuriana seen in Culhwch and Olwen named Llenlleog. Llenlleog is notable for being one of the only figures seen wielding Caledfwlch (Excalibur), killing the giant Diwrnach and his retinue. This incident in Culhwch and Olwen seems to be a reworking of the raid in Preiddeu Annwfn, with Llenlleog a later form of the shadowy Lleminnauc. Lleminawc in turn is probably a combination of the historical Llenneac of Elmet, contemporary with the historical Arthur, and the god Lugh, either borrowed from the Irish directly, or from their shared Proto-Celtic heritage in the form of Lugus, or even directly from the Welsh equivalent Lleu. This combination filtered through the centuries eventually finds it’s way to Breton bards, and then to later Romance writers like Chrétien, leading to Lancelot. You can read more about this here.

Llenneac is seen here with a mix of Roman and local British kit, and the ‘lime-washed’ shield referenced in Y Gododdin.

Guallauc ap Llenneac

The son of Llenneac of Elmet, Guallauc features in both the pedigrees and multiple praise poems from the Brythonic Heroic Age. Gualluac seems to have been quite the rough customer, bringing war to any and everyone in the Hen Ogledd. Fighting in Aeron, in Ebrauc, eventually against his own cousins in Rheged.

You can find more about Guallauc here.

I have chosen to depict Guallauc as a practical man with simple arms and armor, but still with the marks of status, with imported belt fittings and a boar-crested helmet.

Ida of Bernicia

The first king of Anglian Bernicia. With the fading power of the Coeling (Brigantian) High-Kingship, Ida established himself king in 547, ruling for 12 years according to the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle. The ASC also remembers him establishing the fortress of Bamburgh, though this was likely the seat of the earlier Brythonic kings of Bryneich, then known as Din Guarie. Nennius tells us that after the period of Arthur’s reign the Angles “brought over kings from Germany that they might reign over them in Britain, right down to the time in which Ida reigned, who was son of Eobba. He was the first king in Bernicia, that is, in Berneich.” This would seem to imply that Ida’s date is some time after Arthur’s famous victory at Badon. This sits well with the idea of the post-Badon peace, and is in fact reflected in Anglo-Saxon records, as they record no significant credible battles between Aella and Cerdic, with Cerdic’s earliest dates subject to a ‘founding myth’ pattern, with him likely not taking power until the 530s some 30 years after Badon. Ida’s establishment in 547 also makes sense in this context. With Arthur dead at Camlann in 537, and Coeling power weakening, the prior Foederati arrangements held between the Coeling and Cynwydion (Kings of Alt Clut) kings of the north waning, Anglian ascent in the north seemed inevitable.

Ida is depicted here as a warlord of his time. His rich woolen robe with tablet woven hem covers his maille, with an undyed woolen cloak, fastened with a high-status silver brooch, with a sword of continental style with a garnet inlaid pommel.

Fflamddwyn

A mysterious Anglian warlord referenced in the Welsh poem The Battle of Argoed Llwyfain, a song of praise for Urien. Fflamddwyn (‘Flame-Bearer’) demands hostages of the Coeling forces, but is denied by Owain, Owain seemingly then leads the Coeling forces against Fflamddwyn, winning victory. There has been much speculation about who Fflamddwyn was, and it would seem he was an Anglian in Ida’s line, some have even speculated that he was Ida himself, though it is much more likely it was one of Ida’s sons, possibly Theodoric.

Fflamddwyn is depicted here as an Anglian warlord in full war-gear, with a helm and aventail inspired by near-contemporary Vendel helmets, and ornamented shield as seen in the Sutton-Hoo burial.

High-Status Romano-British Woman

Something a little different, a High-Status Noblewoman, wearing a wealthily dyed, but simply cut dress, tablet woven belt and headband, with a lingering Roman palla pinned with an ornate brooch. She wears a imported pectoral cross from the Eastern Roman Empire.

Urien ap Cynfarch

Urien of Rheged, a veritable second-coming of Arthur ruled Rheged for much of the 6th century. Long lived and long ruling, Urien features in numerous poems from Taliesin, as well as the poetry of Llywarch Hen, his cousin. Urien was probably born some time around 520ad, beginning his rule shortly after the battle of Camlann in 537. The young king would continue to ascend in fame and wealth, eventually becoming the preeminent Coeling of his era. Urien seemed to operate as overlord for much of the north, and was feared and respected by all, even Guallauc of Elmet. Urien was most likely the leader opposed to the Gododdin in the raid on Catraeth seen in Y Gododdin, likely the culmination of years of unrest with multiple Coeling princes conspiring against Urien, setting out on the ill-fated raid. Urien is most famous for nearly driving the Angles from Northern Britain, besieging them on Ynys Metcaut (Lindisfarne). The siege however ended when Urien was betrayed by a British king, likely Morcant of Alt Clut (not his cousin Morcant as often supposed).

Urien is depicted here as a the penultimate warlord of his time. Urien and his son Owain are often associated with ravens, so his shield is adorned with a Raven-Triskelion pattern inspired by the Royston Escutcheon that appears as well on his brooch. To emphasize the Romanitas of the Western Coeling I have given Urien Pteruges under the skirt of his maille, as well as the more speculative ‘shoulder-harness’ attached Pteruges over his maille (Pteruges under the maille sleeves just seems silly).

During a Feast celebrating the New Year sometime in the early 6th century, King Arthur and his nobles are interrupted while exchanging gifts by a most unusual figure.

A giant of a man entered the hall, riding a horse, carrying the ‘Mother of all Axes’ and a holly bough. The man’s stature was by far the least remarkable thing about him, as his was green from head to foot. He wore no armour, but his hair, skin, tunic, and hose were all green. The giant is not there for a fight, for he finds that no one amongst Arthur’s court to be a match for him, but instead proposes a friendly Christmas game: The verdant colossus would take a blow with the axe from any man, as long as that man would take the same stroke in a years time. As a reward the man to join in the game would get the enormous axe.

None of Arthur’s men seem keen to join this game, and Arthur himself prepares to step up against the giant, but his young nephew Gawain intercedes and agrees.

Gawain beheads the green giant with a single swing, but much to the surprise of everyone at the feast, the green man picks up his own head, mounts his horse, displays his own head for the court to see, and reminds Gawain of his duty.

Gawain sets out to fulfill his duty the next year. The journey is perilous and fraught with hardship and danger. Gawain distraught from the journey prays intently.

Gawain as if by divine guidance sees a castle and approaches. The Lord greets him and welcomes him to shelter, setting up the Gawain Poet’s rendition of a Temptation Fable.

Bertilak proposes a game of his own to Gawain as he shelters in his castle. Bertilak will go on the hunt each day, and will give Gawain what he has won, and Gawain will likewise give him whatever he has gotten from the castle.

Bertilak’s wife attempts to seduce Gawain, but being the virtuous paragon of chivalry he is, he refuses, and only allows a single kiss. The lord returns with a deer, which he gives to Gawain and Gawain provides the kiss of the Lady to him, not disclosing it came from her. The next day the exchange is a boar for two kisses, and then on the final day a fox and three kisses. The Lady Bertilak had given Gawain a fourth gift however that day, a green and gold sash that would protect him from harm. Knowing this would be useful considering the blow he must take the next day he conceals it from the Lord.

Gawain then sets out for the Green Chapel, which is a cavern in a green mound. The green man awaits sharpening his axe. Gawain bares his neck to receive the dutiful blow. Upon the giant’s swing young Gawain flinches.

The green man swings again, this time at an unflinching Gawain, but the giant stops short, testing the young warrior’s mettle. Gawain angrily mocks the Green Giant.

The Giant swings, and the blow lands causing a slight nick to Gawain’s neck. The Giant is none other than the lord he sheltered with just a day before, who reveals his name is Bertilak. The entire beheading game has been a ruse put in place by Morgan Le Fay. Gawain is ashamed for the use of the sash, which is the cause of the nick in his neck. Bertilak proclaims him blameless, and Gawain returns to Arthur a hero. Arthur’s warriors vow to wear a green sash to remind themselves to remain true.

The story of the green giant with the "Mother of all Axes" is probably influenced by two main sources, one Irish, one part of French Arthuriana.

The idea of a "Beheading Game" becomes a common motif for Celtic tales after the Irish story of Bricriu's Feast became popular during the 8th Century. In this tale the heroes Cúchulainn, Conall Cernach, and Lóegaire Búadach are tasked with a game to cut off a giant's head. Like the later Gawain tale they are then tasked with receiving the same blow. They each cut off the gaint's head, who then picks it up and leaves, but only Cúchulainn stands firm and appears to meet his fate, and is thus declared the winner.

Similar to the Gawain tale, it is a man in disguise, Cú Roí the King of Munster. This motif spreads like wildfire, appearing in numerous tales, such as the Life of Caradoc, a French retelling of possibly earlier Welsh and Breton tales of the famed Caradoc Vreichvras. Caradoc also is subject to the beheading game, with the beheaded being revealed to be Caradoc's father.

The Gawain poet was likely influenced by both of these stories. Another portion of the story that was likely influenced by an earlier Welsh tale is the Temptation Fable, between Gawain and Bertilak's wife.

While the temptation fable is a common motif, the root here may come from the Welsh tale of Pwyll Pendefig Dyfed from the Mabinogi. Pwyll, though transfigured into Arawn, abstains from relations with Arawn's wife, similar to Gawain and the Lady Bertilak.

This potential melding like many of the later Arthurian tales shares little with the likely historical candidates for Gawain, Gerguan (Gwalchmai) ap Letan of the Gododdin, or possibly Gwrfan ap Llew, a supposed grandson of Cynfarch Oer. It is likely Letan of Gododdin’s pedigree was at some point attached to Cynfarch’s, possibly even done to try and reconcile the genealogies with later ahistorical legends of Arthur. Gerguan ap Letan and has been by proxy connected to the Medraut/Mordred of later legends as a brother. There is a possibility that this extrapolation from later traditions does retain earlier now lost traditions, but it is impossible to say for certain that Gerguan had a brother named Medraut, and that Medraut was in fact the Medraut of the annals. From the Northern context of the earliest bits of Arthuriana, a brother of Gerguan does work Chronologically as an up-and coming rival to the historical Arthur, and knowing the enmity between the Coeling (and by Proxy the Coeling Arthur, Arthwys ap Mar) and the Gododdin you could surmise that Arthur’s fabled opponent at Camlann was a man of Gododdin, but we cannot say for certain of course. Gerguan is first filtered into legend in the guise of Gwrfan Arfwyn, an early warrior of Arthur’s seen in Culhwch and Olwen. Then eventually finding his way into later legends as Gawain. The Historical Gerguan likely stood opposed to the Northern Arthur, Arthwys ap Mar, late in his reign in the Hen Ogledd. This is in fact depicted in the Modena Archivolt, a pre-Galfridian carving depicting the abduction of Guinevere, with Gawain fighting against Caradoc Vreichfras who is fighting on Arthur’s side. It’s very likely that Gerguan even was part of the force that met Arthwys at Camboglanna, leading to Arthwys’ death and the famed entry in the Annales Cambriae.

Like many of the figures that feature in these tales there isn’t much of a trail to follow to figure out why Gawain was the figure featured here, but we can surmise a few things. There are small sprinkles and hints that Gawain may have been at once associated as a ‘Grail knight’ figure, and he even attains the Grail in the middle-German work Diu Crône. This would hint at a lingering popularity, even as others such as Peredur, Lancelot, and Galahad began to take the limelight. There doesn’t seem to be an earlier association with Gawain and the Beheading Game to suggest it was an earlier tradition, but that wouldn’t stop the Gawain Poet from creating what I believe is a synthesis of multiple traditions, with his favorite Arthurian figure (who also happens to have a name that is alliterative with Green) taking the lead role.

You can find “Tales of the Coeling” at the link below

Tales of the Coeling

To celebrate the release I have written a ‘prequel’ of sorts, telling a story of how Coel’s ancestor Urbanus came to possess Caledfwlch.

The tower stood on the headland like a broken tooth, its stones blackened by wind and sea-salt, its summit crowned with the twisted remains of an iron beacon-bowl. Once, when the Empire’s reach was strong, it had watched for sails from Gaul and for smoke rising from the northern watchfires. Now it watched only the grey emptiness of the sea.

Urbanus map Gratianus reined in his horse at the crest of the ridge and looked down at it. The garrison had patched the upper courses with mismatched stone; lichen clung to the walls in green scabs. A generation ago, his father’s cohort had built towers like this all along the coast, a chain of signal lights from the Humber to the Wall. Most were ruins now, their fires cold. This one, he was told, could be saved.

He dismounted, feeling the wind tear at his cloak. The smell of the sea was sharp with rot and iron. From below came the noise of picks and shouted Latin, his men clearing rubble from the tower’s base. They were a mixed lot: a dozen veterans of the Sixth Legion who had refused retirement, a handful of locals pressed into service, and a scattering of Gauls and even Sarmatians whose Latin was thick with foreign grit. The sort of company one found on the edge of Rome.

Urbanus walked the perimeter slowly, running his gloved hand along the pitted masonry. The stones were sound enough. What they lacked was heart. Everything in Britain lacked it these days. Ebrauc’s curia had not paid the men for three months. The dux in the north sent orders but no reinforcements. The Saxons came and went with the tides. And yet here he stood, pretending this lonely tower mattered.

He looked east. The sea rolled beneath a sky the color of beaten lead. A cormorant glided low over the surf, black wings cutting the wind. For a moment, he thought of home, of the vineyards near Verulamium where his mother’s kin still lived, the warmth of the southern sun on limestone walls, and then the thought passed like a ghost. He was Roman still, even here at the end of the world, and Romans built.

He turned to his adjutant, a broad Gaul named Marcus, who waited with a wax tablet.
“Two more wagon-loads of stone before nightfall,” Urbanus said. “From the western slope. The old quarry’s spent.”

Marcus nodded, jotting the order with a stylus dulled by sand.
“The men say that slope’s unlucky,” he said. “There’s a mound there. They call it a king’s grave.”

Urbanus gave a thin smile. “Every hill in Britain’s a king’s grave, Marcus. Find me stone that isn’t haunted, and I’ll bless it myself.”

He mounted again and looked once more at the tower, old, stubborn, still standing against the sea.
He liked it for that.

The rain came for three days without pause, soft and fine as mist, creeping into every joint of the tower. When it lifted, the mortar had turned to pulp, and the upper course had to be laid anew.

Urbanus sent out small groups of men to gather stone from the western slope, the same one Marcus had called unlucky. The tower’s old quarry was long since quarried out, a pit of brine and reeds. The slope at least still showed ribs of limestone where the grass had slipped.

He went with them that morning, more from boredom than mistrust. The air was sharp and clean after the storm; gulls wheeled low, their cries carrying like laughter. The men worked with picks and levers, prying stones loose from the sodden turf. Steam rose from the wet ground, faint and ghostlike.

“Here, sir,” one of the Britons called. He was a young man from the wolds north of Cataractonium, skin freckled from the sea wind. “There’s a hollow under this slab.”

Urbanus dismounted, took the man’s spade, and knelt. The slab was a broad one, flat as a door, with a line of darker earth marking its edge. When they levered it up, a gap opened, not deep, but wide enough to breathe the smell of old wood and soil.

They cleared the hole carefully. The cavity beneath was timber-lined, planked like the belly of a boat. The planks were blackened and soft to the touch, preserved by clay and salt. Along its edges ran a scattering of corroded iron rivets.

Marcus crouched beside him, squinting into the dark.
“A boat,” he said. “By the gods, someone’s buried a ship here.”

Urbanus said nothing. He brushed aside more soil and saw what lay within, the shadow of a man, the remains of armor rusted to a mass, and across his knees a long sword, its blade catching the thin sunlight.

It was not like any of the old spathae that hung in the armory. The hilt was bronze, with a waisted grip unlike any he had seen before. The pommel adorned with a bronze cap in the shape of two beasts, the blade, even through a film of damp earth, shone.

Marcus whistled softly. “He’s not been dead long. Twenty years, maybe less.”

Urbanus nodded. The man’s bones were not yet chalked to dust; scraps of mail still clung to his ribs. Whoever he was, he had been buried in haste, perhaps by his comrades after some sea-fight gone ill. The boat was small, a fisherman’s hull, perhaps, but the care taken spoke of respect, even honor.

He ran a hand along the sword’s length. It was as long as his arm from shoulder to fingertips, the edge straight, the metal faintly patterned like ripples under water. The scabbard, though broken, still bore fittings of bronze, a dragon, wings outstretched, with claws to fasten to a belt.

Urbanus rose, silent for a long moment.
“Cover him again,” he said at last. “We’ll leave the stones. Use the other ridge.”

Marcus looked up, puzzled. “And the sword?”

Urbanus didn’t answer at once. He looked toward the sea, where the tide hissed and retreated over the shingle, the sound like slow breathing.
“It would be a shame to leave such a blade.”

Marcus spat into the dirt. “Best to leave it with him, sir. Bad things come of stealing from graves, even Roman ones.”

Urbanus gave a faint, weary smile. “We build from ruins, Marcus. Every stone we lay was taken from someone’s grave.”

He lifted the sword. The damp earth ran from the blade in ribbons, the bronze hilt slick beneath his glove. For a moment he felt its weight not as a burden but as a question, settling cold against his palm.

When they returned to the tower, the sky was already turning the color of pewter. The wind pressed against them, carrying the scent of salt and rot. Behind them, the mound looked as though it had never been opened.

Winter settled early along the coast. Frost glazed the grass on the headland each morning, and the stones of the tower sweated salt by noon. The sea never changed, always flat, pewter grey, flecked with white where the tide broke against the rocks.

The tower’s garrison numbered fewer than sixty souls. In the morning they drilled on the turf with wooden spears, their breath steaming in the cold. Afterward, they fetched water from the cistern, mended their cloaks, and grumbled about pay that would never arrive. At dusk, they climbed the stairs to watch the sea until night hid it from view.

They were a patchwork of what remained of Rome in Britain:
a veteran from the Sixth who could barely lift his shield; two brothers from the wolds who spoke Latin like a prayer learned by rote; three Pannonians who carved dice from bone; and a handful of Gauls who kept to themselves and sang rough camp songs about warmer shores.
Urbanus knew every face, every cough.

The routine was their wall against despair. Orders from the dux still came, written on scraps of wax and carried by mule, but no one remembered the last time an inspector had ridden this far. They were in truth alone.

On calm nights, they tested the beacon. The old bowl, blackened and split, still held pitch. When lit, its flame flared orange against the sea-mist, and for a heartbeat they could glimpse other fires, faint dots along the coast, answering and fading. Then the smoke thickened, the wind shifted, and the illusion of connection vanished.

Urbanus kept the sword in his chamber, wrapped in a linen officer’s cloak. He had meant to catalogue it, to send it inland when the next supply train passed through, yet each time the chance came he found reason to delay. Perhaps, he told himself, it was the season, the roads were bad, the wagons light. Still, the excuses felt hollow.

Some nights when the wind shook the shutters, he would unwrap it. The blade gleamed like still water, the bronze beasts of the hilt catching the lamplight. He ran a cloth along the steel, careful not to touch the edge. It was still as sharp as the day its old owner died, the sort of blade one forged for kings.

He caught himself staring at the reflection of the lamp on its surface and turned it away, uneasy. A commander needed no charms.

Marcus saw the pattern sooner than he did.
One evening, as they shared a jug of thin wine before the hearth, Marcus said,
“You keep that sword close. Close as a wife.”

Urbanus smiled without warmth. “You mistake care for affection. It’s a tool, nothing more.”

Marcus grunted. “A tool that belongs to the dead, not to us. The sea gave it up once, it may come asking.”

“Superstition,” Urbanus said, and drank. “If I feared every ghost in this country, we’d never build anything.”

Marcus shrugged. “Maybe that’s why the ghosts linger, we keep laying our walls on their graves.”

The wind rattled the shutters again, scattering sparks from the fire. Outside, the surf thundered like drums far below the cliff.

When Marcus had gone to his bunk, Urbanus sat a while longer. He thought of his father, Gratianus, who had commanded men on this same coast thirty years before, who had spoken of the empire as though it were a fortress of reason, unshakable. But Rome felt thin now, its voice distant. The sword on his lap was real, bright, unbroken.

He unwrapped it one last time before sleep. The light from the hearth traced pale ripples along the steel. For a moment he thought he saw movement in them, the shimmer of sails, or waves, or perhaps the breath of something older than both.

He covered it quickly and placed it back on his table.
The tower creaked and sighed in the dark like an old ship at sea.

It began with light on the horizon, not dawn, but fire.
The watchman on the parapet shouted down, his voice thin in the wind:
“Beacon to the east, sir! They’re burning early!”

Urbanus was halfway up the stair before the words reached him. The tower’s upper room smelled of pitch and damp. He stepped out onto the parapet and saw it: a single flame burning above the sea-mist, then a second farther along the coast.

He felt the air tighten. “Rouse the men,” he said to Marcus. “We ride now.”

Within the hour they were on the road, fifteen cavalry led by Urbanus, twenty-five men trudging through frozen mud on foot, shields slung across their backs, breath steaming in the pale half-light. The sky was still colorless, the earth stiff underfoot. Behind them, the old tower dwindled against the cliffs, its beacon bowl cold and black.

They followed the ancient coastal road, its paving stones showing through the turf like worn bones. The line moved in silence save for the dull clatter of gear and the rhythmic hiss of the surf to their right.

Marcus rode beside him. “Angles?”

Urbanus nodded. “Aye. The scouts last month saw ships off the Abus. They’ll land in small bands, strip what they can, and vanish.”

Marcus spat into the wind. “Undyed cloaks and axes, carrion wolves.”

“Rome’s wolves once looked the same,” Urbanus said, and that ended the talk.

By midmorning they reached the next headland.
The beacon to the east still burned low, a faint thread of smoke twisting against the wind. The tower’s garrison stood ready on the rampart, their commander, a square, dark-bearded man in dull maille, walked out of the gates as Urbanus and his men approached.

“No attack here,” he said, voice rough from shouting orders. “They passed us by at dawn. Smoke to the south.”

Urbanus nodded. “Then we go together. Leave ten to hold the tower. The rest with us.”

Within moments the small cavalry force had nearly doubled, twenty-five horse, shields slung on flanks, spears resting against their knees. Their combined infantry, forty men on foot followed in loose order along the cliff road, the banners whipping flat in the wind.

The land ahead dropped toward a shallow bay where a second tower stood, squat and old, its walls streaked with soot. Smoke crawled from the beacon bowl. Even at a distance they could see shapes moving around it, Angles, nearly fifty in number, formed in a rough line outside the ditch surrounding the walls, their undyed cloaks whipping like sailcloth in the wind. They had not yet attacked, uncertain whether to risk trying to break the gate or move on.

The defenders within, barely twenty men, stood visible behind the parapet, helmets glinting as they watched the enemy below.

Urbanus studied the field. The ground sloped gently from the inland road toward the tower, with a shallow gully cutting behind it, just enough cover for a flanking charge. He turned to Marcus.

“Take the foot in line. Push straight toward their front, shields high. When they fix on you, I’ll strike from the rear.”

Marcus grinned through his beard. “Yes sir.”

Urbanus loosened the wool wrap from his saddle. Inside lay the barrow-sword, its bronze hilt gleaming. He drew it free and felt the balance settle into his hand, light, familiar, inevitable.

He gave the signal.
“Infantry forward! Horse, with me!”

The footmen formed quickly, veterans at the center, younger recruits at the wings, marching down the slope with shields locked, spears angled against the light. Behind them, Urbanus led the cavalry along the ridge and down behind the tower, hooves muffled on wet grass.

The Angles saw the movement too late. Their line shifted, ragged and unsure. A few loosed javelins fell short, thudding into the turf.

Marcus’s line struck first, the impact heavy and grinding. The air filled with the crash of iron rims and the guttural shouts of men. Spears splintered; blades flashed and vanished. The defenders from the tower poured out to join them, adding their weight to the fight.

Urbanus wheeled his horse around the far side of the tower, the wind in his face. He rose in the stirrups and raised the stolen blade.
“Now!” he shouted, and the cavalry crashed into the Anglian flank.

The sound was thunder, hooves striking, shields breaking, men thrown down under the weight of horse and rider. The enemy line folded inward, trapped between horse and foot. In the swirl of dust and salt spray, Urbanus saw their leader: a tall man in a boar-crested helm and a heavy cloak. The chieftain swung a great axe, cutting a horse from under its rider.

Urbanus spurred forward. The man turned, roaring, and the axe came down, wide, terrible.
Urbanus met it with the barrow-sword. The blades rang like a bell struck underwater. Urbanus turned the parry into a downward cut, the spatha sliding along the axe-haft, and in a single motion sheared through the helm and skull beneath it.

The Anglian fell backward without a sound, the sea’s wind catching his cloak as he dropped.
The fight broke then. The raiders, leaderless, scattered toward the beach while those that stood were cut down.

It was over in moments, swift, brutal, final. The ground ran red, and gulls already circled low.

Urbanus reined in among the bodies, chest heaving. The sword’s blade was black to the hilt, yet when he wiped it clean with his cloak, it shone as if newly polished. Its bronze guard gleamed faintly in the weak sunlight, and for an instant the ripples in the steel seemed to move, like water flowing back toward the sea.

By late afternoon, the wind had turned off the sea. The smoke from the burning ships drifted inland, low and blue, carrying the stink of pitch and wet hemp. The tide was going out, leaving the beach strewn with wreckage, broken shields, oars, and the pale shapes of men face-down in the shallows.

Urbanus walked the strand in silence. His horse was lame from the charge, and his arm ached where a spear had grazed his maille, but he scarcely felt it. Around him, the survivors worked without orders, dragging the dead together, setting torches to small piles of dead men. The sound of gulls had replaced the cries of battle.

Marcus found him by a nearby creek, crouched beside the water washing the sword. The blood came away in long, dark ribbons, curling out into the current like smoke.

“She drinks well, that one,” Marcus said quietly. “Perhaps too well.”

Urbanus looked up. His face was streaked with salt and soot, eyes hollow from the cold.
”It wants to cut. It was made for it.”

Marcus gave a tired snort. “Keep her close, then. But if she asks for another soul, make it an enemy’s.”

He walked away, calling to the men to gather the wounded.

Urbanus remained kneeling in the shallows. The sword lay across his knees once more, gleaming faintly in the dying light. He studied it as if seeing it for the first time, the fine ripples along the blade, the twin beasts of the pommel cap. The weapon seemed a relic of some bygone hero, yet it looked newly born.

He remembered the mound on the cliff, the dead man lying in his little boat, hands folded over this very blade. For a moment he imagined that same hand guiding his in the stroke that had cleaved the Anglian’s helm. He felt neither pride nor fear, only recognition.

The sun hung low over the sea, orange as the smith’s iron. He lifted the sword toward it, the bronze and steel catching fire in the light.

In the old tongue his mother had used when she sang him to sleep, the tongue of his ancestor Cinbelin, he whispered the word that had come to him unbidden:
“Caledfwlch.”

Hard Breach.

The sea gave a long sigh against the stones, and the wind fell still.

When he turned back toward the tower, the first star was showing in the pale sky, and smoke rose from the beacon as the men lit it once more. Its flame flickered against the night like a single, stubborn heartbeat, Rome’s last light upon the edge of the world.

Thank you for reading, if you enjoyed this you can find “Tales of the Coeling” here: Tales of the Coeling. My “Illustrated Guide to the Hen Ogledd” is still coming soon, and I had hoped to finish it earlier, but such a media-heavy book is a huge undertaking, but I have steadily been chipping away at it. Thank you all for your support and patience. I will send out another post soon to my paid subscribers.

The Wolves of Eidyn

The sun was pale above the valley of the Tribruit, slanting through the late morning mist in spears of gold and white. The river curved like a silver hook below, swollen from the rain, curling westward where the lands of the Gododdin fell away to peat and forest. Across the river, the host of the Coeling waited.

Bran ap Dyfnwal stood at the edge of their makeshift war camp. The standard of his grandfather Garbanion flapped in the wind, a boar worked in red thread upon a field of grey. A voice from his childhood rose unbidden, words his father had once told him. “If the wind forgets your banner, your men will forget their courage.”

The wind blew. The Boar stood defiant.

Bran was seventeen, the oldest of Dyfnwal’s sons. His lorica was new, his father’s second-best maille, fitted for him by his grandfather’s smiths at Ebrauc, and his sword hung low at his hip. The boy was not yet accustomed to wearing it. He was too untested to ride with his grandfather’s teulu, but not too young to witness.

Mist pooled in hollows, rising off the grass like breath. Across from Garbanion’s warband, Bran could see the Angles gathering, shields in tight ranks, long-handled spears bristling like a thicket of pine. Their lord stood before them on a rise. No banner flew. He wore a wolf-skin mantle, ears still on, the brow matted with frost. His beard was thick. It was whispered that he would feast on the hearts of his defeated enemies.

Garwlwyd, they called him.

Bran’s cousin, Arthwys, sat his horse at the head of the Coeling line. His golden helmet, crested with an array of swan feathers and fine lorica of bronze-scales echoed the Roman Dux of years long gone. Caledfwlch hung at his side, a lance of iron and ash in his hand, and his reins and shield in his left. Caledfwlch would stay in its scabbard until their charge broke through the enemy ranks.

Garbanion’s teulu stood behind Arthwys, Two-hundred men, all mounted, all armored. Men of Din Guarie and Caer Ebrauc, noble sons all, born to the saddle. They carried round shields painted with the Christ-Symbol. Their horses were not the squat ponies of the northern hills, but heavy-boned chargers bred of Roman stock for war. You could hear them breathing, even from the ridge.

“They mean to take the ford,” said Hyfaidd, a lean spearman who had fought under Bran’s father before he had been born. “The king of Gododdin hired the Saeson to test us. We’ll break them here and then set out for Din Eidyn.”

Bran did not answer. He was watching Arthwys.

The young prince turned to his men and raised his spear. A horn sounded. Once. Then again.

Then they moved.

Two-Hundred horses surged towards the Saeson host, hooves beating the sodden earth. Bran saw the cavalry form into a wedge behind Arthwys, how the flanks tucked in tight, the way his father had taught him. The Coeling had always fought like this. Not with numbers, but with discipline. With speed, iron and thunder.

The Angles stood their ground, grim behind their tall shields. Bran could hear their guttural cries echoing off the river. Garwlwyd stood still, the wolf-skin streaming behind him. Then he roared.

It was not a man’s roar. It was the howl of something older, of cold woods and blood-moon nights. Three-dozen men surged ahead of the line beside him, bare-chested, wearing only braies and wolf-skins, wielding axes, spears, and swords. They moved like beasts, not men.

“Blaiddgwn,” someone whispered.

Bran felt a chill down his spine.

But it made no difference.

Arthwys and his riders crashed into the crazed warriors, engulfing them, pushing forward into the main Angle host, line buckling at once, shields splintered, men thrown back like straw before the wind. Horses trampled them underfoot. The teulu struck, passing spearpoints and shield with practiced precision, wheeled, and struck again from the flank.

Garwlwyd’s surviving berserkers clambered to their feet and turned for the horsemen, who were now breaking back through the spearmen’s lines. The wolf-pelted warriors howling, biting shields, swinging madly looking to break the oncoming charge. One of the blaiddgwn leapt at a rider, dragging him from the saddle, only for Llenneac to wheel and drive a javelin through the man’s spine.

The valley churned with screams and iron.

From the hill, Bran could see it all. The Angles fell back toward the trees, their line shattered. Garwlwyd stood in the midst of it, axe slick with blood, roaring for a rally. But Arthwys came for him.

There was no poetry in it, no duel under heaven, no flowery speeches. Just a clash of horse and man. Arthwys’ spear skewered shield, maille, and flesh, the blade tearing through the pelt hanging from the big Angle’s back. The wolf-headed lord howled once more, then dropped, lance still in his chest.

Bran watched, mouth dry, heart pounding. The mist had cleared now. The sun struck the river full, gleaming on shield-bosses and wet iron. Then Caledfwlch shined above Arthwys’ head, bright as the sun itself.

A cheer rose from the Teulu, first: “GARMON! GARMON!” … then one man started “ARTHWYS!”

The new chant quickly rose around the Pen-Teulu. The boar still flew on the wind, but the fame of the bear grew.

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I will leave the reevaluation of Cadwallon’s lineage out here, as I have spoken on it before, from what we can glean however, he seems to have spent some time in exile in Ireland, if we are to believe a fragment of a poem directly attributed to Cadwallon from Peniarth MS. 21, from there he sailed for Priestholm, where he set up a temporary base where he was besieged by Edwin. Edwin was ultimately unsuccessful in his attack, and Cadwallon, allied with Penda, won the Battle of Cefn Digoll against him, sending Edwin back to the North. Cadwallon and Penda eventually met Edwin again, this time at the Battle of Hatfield Chase, where Edwin and his son Osfrith were killed. Another son Eadfrith was captured, and later killed by Penda. Cadwallon then began his domination of the North, eventually besieged by Osric of Deira, “In a strong town” (most likely York). The siege was destroyed when Cadwallon “sallied out on a sudden with all his forces, by surprise, and destroyed him [Osric] and all his army.” Bede then leads us into a period of a year where Cadwallon rules as a tyrant, no doubt tainted by political sentiment, though this may refer to a campaign to expunge the territory of Anglian power. During this time Cadwallon supposedly kills Eanfrith the new king of Bernicia while the later had come to negotiate terms of peace. Eanfrith was the son of Aethelfrith, the powerful precursor to Edwin, who drove Edwin into exile when he was only three years old. Eanfrith in turn was exiled when Edwin returned and took power, seemingly with the Picts, this led to his son Talorgan sitting for a time as king of the Picts1. Cadwallon eventually is defeated at the Battle of Heavenfield by Hadrian’s wall by Oswald of Bernicia, Eanfrith’s brother.

I will not spoil ’s upcoming reevaluation of Penda’s lineage, but he is a puzzling figure, with strong alliances with a Brythonic prince such as Cadwallon, and a lineage full of names of uncertain or legendary origin, as well as a notable reference from Brythonic poetry, Marwnad Cynddylan, which does not portray him negatively as one would expect. These uncertain origins lead to exciting possibilities, and I hope you will enjoy ’s article looking at this soon.

Cadwallon and Penda feature in the longest story within my new anthology “Tales of the Coeling”, releasing later this month. “The Rising Flame” follows Cadwallon from his exile to Ireland, all the way to the Battle of Heavenfield, in an action packed short-story towards the end of the anthology.

Britons

Coel Hen, founder of the Coeling dynasty, floruit 410-440, in high-status Roman gear of the era. Coel has often been speculated as the last Dux Britanniarum, though there is not evidence of this other than the fact that the area he ruled was controlled by that position under Rome. You can find more about Coel here:

Arthwys ap Mar, the Northern Arthur, floruit 490-537, in a mix of Roman and insular native influences. You can read more about Arthwys here:

Peredur ab Eliffer, grandson of Arthwys, initial inspiration for the Peredur of the Welsh romances and later Percival, floruit 560-580, in a mix of native and germanic influenced gear. Peredur would eventually with his brothers join a coalition of Britons attacking their cousin Urien at Catraeth. You can read more about him here:

Contrasting with Peredur is his cousin and contemporary Guenddoleu, here seen with his ‘great birds’ known from the triads. Wearing much more Celtic influence gear. You can read more about Guenddoleu here:

Eugein ap Beli of Alt Clut, floruit 620-~655, in mostly native gear. Victor of The Battle of Strathcarron in 642. You can read more about Eugein here:

A low-status warrior of a warlord’s gosgordd. Appropriate for most of the covered kings floruits. He carries a simple axe and a limewashed shield. His only protection beside the shield is a simple iron skullcap.

A member of a Warlords Teulu. Teulu, a word meaning family, in a martial context denotes a Lords household troops, high-status warriors, often mounted on horses, making up the core of a warlords military.

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The veracity of the earlier entries within the Pictish Regnal Lists is often called into question.1 As such not much is attempted as far as looking at some of these earlier figures. While care must be taken, I do think it worthwhile to look at some of these figures, and possibly ascertain something about them. One of the most interesting Pictish Kings from this earlier period is Drest Gurthinmoch, who reigned in the late 5th and early 6th centuries. While not much can be said for certain about him, there seem to be some scattered references to the king in other sources.

His epithet Gurthinmoch, seems to derive from Brythonic, and means something akin to “Great-Pig” or “Great-Boar”. It is worth noting here that boar imagery carried a weight of martial symbolism across Celtic cultures — appearing both in personal names and in artistic depictions from northern Britain to Gaul. A warrior likened to a boar was not necessarily mocked, but rather understood as fierce, dangerous, and indomitable. The boar surfaces repeatedly noting particular ferocity: the Irish Táin Bó Cúailnge features boar imagery heavily, and in Y Gododdin, warriors are commonly praised as boars. Archaeology echoes this poetic imagery: boar-crested helmets, like those from Benty Grange in Derbyshire and Wollaston in Northamptonshire, show how the animal was adopted into Germanic as well as Celtic war-gear. The epithet Gurthinmoch, then, would not have been absurd or derogatory, but emblematic of a king who embodied the ferocity and power of the boar.

There is a figure called Gwrthmwl who appears in both the triads and in the Dream of Rhonabwy. He is in the triads called Penhynaf (Chief Elder) of “Pen Rhionydd in the North” and associated with Arthur. Gwrthmwl could conceivably be a corruption of Gwrddmoch, and with this similarity, along with the similarity of locale it is possible that this is a memory of Drest within the Dream of Rhonabwy and the triads, although the suitable candidates for Pen Rhionydd are outside of Pictish lands. The title of Penhynaf could imply that he was an older man. As I have explored before, many of the Pictish kings seem to be of quite advanced age, possibly hinting at a gerontocratic style of high-kingship, meshing well with Gwrthmwl as Drest Gurthinmoch. Drest would seem to be remembered here not as a warlord but as a venerable adviser, his age and status lending him the aura of wisdom. Such a role would explain why his name survived in Arthurian-adjacent tradition, long after the specifics of his reign had faded.

There is another figure that may have more certain roots with this Pictish king however.

Tristan, the eponymous hero of the various romances, known variously as Tristan, or Tristan and Iseult, could in fact have originally been Drest Gurthinmoch as well. Within the triads there is an entry listing the “Chief Swineheards of Britain” one of which is “Drystan son of Tallwch, who kept the swine of March son of Meirchiawn.” March son of Meirchiawn is likely Cynfarch (Cynmarch) ap Meirchion Gul of Rheged. Drest Gurthinmoch rules a generation after a Pictish king named Talorc, curiously close to Tallwch. The association as a swineheard here is interesting considering that we have the figure of Drest with a unique epithet referencing Pigs, who happens to share the same name as this ‘Chief Swineheard’. Between this and being associated in the triad with one of the few candidates for the historical King Mark, Cynfarch Oer of Rheged, there is an interesting case to be made that Drest Gurthinmoch may be the kernel of truth behind Tristan. Indeed, “Drust” or “Drest” is a characteristically Pictish royal name, recurring throughout the lists, and “Drystan” may be nothing more than its Welsh or Breton reflex. This would explain why the Tristan figure seems oddly detached from insular dynasties in the romances — he was, at root, a Pictish king remembered in distorted form.

Speculatively Drest could have been split into two figures, Gwerthmwl Wledig, remembered as an elderly advisor of Arthur, and Drystan or Tristan, first Chief Swineheard of Rheged, then later turned into Romantic Hero. This is interesting as it potentially paints Drest in two contrasting legendary roles — one as aged counsellor, the other as young warrior.

My friend wrote a wonderful thread looking at an instance from the preface to the Hymn of Mugint, and a parallel within The Life of St. Ninian. The preface to The Hymn of Mugint tells that Finnian (Ninian) came to study under Mugint, along with Rioc, Talmach, and others. King Drust of Britain entrusted his daughter Drusticc to Mugint for education. Drusticc fell in love with Rioc, and offered Finnian all of Mugint’s books if he would arrange their union. Finnian, instead, sent Talmach to her in Rioc’s form, and from this encounter Drusticc conceived a son, Lonan of Treoit. Believing Rioc the father, Drusticc accused him, but this was false — Rioc remained chaste.

When Mugint discovered the matter, he was enraged. He ordered a youth to hide in the church and kill the first person to enter, expecting Finnian (who usually arrived first). By divine providence, however, Mugint himself entered first, and he was struck down by the axe. This fulfilled the scriptural saying that a man’s wickedness falls upon his own head. The hymn was composed so that the sin of these events might not bring punishment upon the people.

In The Life of Saint Ninian, chapter 5 tells of a nobleman’s servant girl, beautiful in appearance, who yielded to the lustful pursuit of a young man. When her pregnancy became evident, fearing shame and punishment, she falsely accused a presbyter (a parish priest appointed by Bishop Ninian) of seducing and violating her.

The accusation caused scandal: the innocent priest’s reputation was damaged, the Church was mocked, the good were saddened, and the wicked rejoiced. When the woman’s child was born, she brazenly confronted the presbyter in public, declaring him the father.

At this, Saint Ninian intervened. Summoning the clergy and people, he took the newborn and, filled with the Spirit, commanded the infant to speak the truth. Miraculously, the one-day-old child spoke with a man’s voice, identifying his true father from among the people, and declaring the priest innocent. The crowd was astonished, praising God for the miracle. The false accuser was shamed, the presbyter vindicated, and the community reassured of divine justice.

These two tales obviously stem from the same tradition. As has been pointed out, it would seem that this Drusticc was possibly Drest Gurthinmoch’s daughter. Whithorn, heavily associated with Ninian, is within the influence of the kingdom of Rheged at the time, whose king would have either been Meirchion Gul, or more likely his son Cynfarch Oer. While you can intuit a narrative more in line with the later romances from this, I don’t think it’s necessary, and instead gives weight to the idea of Drest Gurthinmoch as the initial inspiration behind the later Trystan. If so, then the story preserves a rare glimpse of Pictish–Rheged dynastic interaction, crystallized not in chronicles but in the blurred mirror of hagiography and legend.

As my friend also pointed out there also happens to be an anomalous Pictish inscribed stone found at Trusty’s Hill, the remains of a hillfort that was subject to a conflagration so great that the fortress was vitrified. Perhaps a marker of Pictish victory in retaliation for the mishandling of a fostered, or even betrothed, daughter? The fortress shows signs of feasting and high-status metalwork, possibly a sign of its importance, possibly one of Rheged’s main strongholds at the time? The juxtaposition of inscription, feast-debris, and fire makes the site uniquely suggestive, seemingly bearing witness to the same entangled dynastic dramas hinted at in the textual sources.

Drest Gurthinmoch is also notable for having one of the longest reigns of the Pictish monarchs from this early period, supposedly reigning for thirty years. The majority of his reign happens to coincide with the post-Badon generation-long peace. One is tempted to read more into that, that the effects of this may have brought stability even into the far reaches of the north. It is striking to consider that the same lull in Saxon expansion which gave the Brythonic kingdoms room to breathe for a generation may also have secured a long and relatively untroubled rule for a Pictish king remembered as both Warlord and Elder Advisor.

Drest is a compelling figure to delve into, but unfortunately there does not seem to be much more to glean, and making more conclusions would strain speculation far too much. And yet, by tracing the scattered fragments — a king with a swine-epithet, a daughter in scandal, a swineherd-hero in Triads, an elderly counsellor in Arthur’s court, and a tragic lover in medieval romance — one begins to glimpse the outline of how legend itself is made.

My own spin on the Tristan Romance, based partially on the Drusticc narrative, will be featured in my new anthology, releasing next month.

In 54bc Gaius Julius Caesar attempted to invade Britain... again. This time Cassivellaunus was there to oppose him. Caesar began his second invasion with 628 ships, five legions and 2,000 cavalry. He landed unhindered by the Britons this time, and immediately set out to find any military the Britons could muster. The Britons heavily used guerilla attacks, striking with cavalry and fading away. Cassivellaunus meanwhile was raising an Army. A powerful warlord, probably of the Catuvellauni, he had been fighting constantly against his neighbors, most recently defeating the Trinovantes and their king Imanuentius, sending the king’s son Mandubracius into exile.

Caesar’s Commentarii (De Bello Gallico V.11–23) gives the only contemporary account of Cassivellaunus. He emphasizes the Britons’ reliance on chariots, noting some “four thousand” of them in Cassivellaunus’ forces. Archaeology, especially the Arras culture chariot burials in Yorkshire, gives independent weight to this description, showing that such warfare was genuinely part of British military practice.

After some failed skirmishes against the Romans, even being routed in one against a foraging party, Cassivellaunus then determined that a direct approach, regardless of the size of his army was futile. He then led an even larger scale guerilla campaign, eventually meeting the Romans while they were crossing the Thames. The Romans managed to make the difficult crossing, beset by Cassivellaunus’ men and stakes place in the river. Cassivellaunus disbands most of his forces after the crossing, and using his cavalry and chariots continues to harry the Romans until Mandubracius and others came forward after surrendering to Caesar, revealing the location to Cassivellaunus’ strongholds. Cassivellaunus initially held out against the siege, even managing to send messengers to four other kings, who then rallied and attacked the Roman camp on the coast, but were ultimately defeated, with the Romans capturing Lugotorix, a Chieftain of the Cantii. Cassivellaunus ultimately surrendered. Mandubracius was then reestablished as king of the Trinovantes, and Cassivellaunus fades away from history, promising to never take up arms again. Neither Cassivellaunus or Mandubracius’ stories end here though, both secured themselves a place in later Brythonic folklore.

Geoffrey of Monmouth remembers Cassivellaunus as Cassibelanus son of Heli (Beli Mawr, possibly inspired by the historical King Cunobelinus) and spins an exaggerated account of both Cassibelanus' life and Caesar's invasions. One can see little snippets of history gleaming through the fiction though, the stakes in the River Thames remembered, and the death of a Tribune. Mandubracius is replaced with Androgeus, a nephew of Geoffrey's Cassibelanus, with the betrayal more personal in his story. All of this was no doubt taken from Caesar's writings, though heavily retold through Geoffrey's lens of narrative, itself tweaked by Welsh Tradition.

While it has been generally held that Caswallawn as Cassivellaunus appears, is a late addition to Welsh Folklore, supposed heavily influenced by Monmouth's work, and certainly some of the Triads that feature Caswallawn do bear the tell-tale mark of Geoffrey’s work, others do not. I think it could be more likely that Geoffrey was instead inspired by this earlier tradition, and in turn influenced it again himself. Combining this early tradition with the writings of Caesar, Geoffrey created his hybrid narrative, neither wholly Caesar, or wholly Welsh.

Part of this earlier tradition is his appearance as an opportunistic usurper to Bran the Blessed. Caswallawn, using a magical cloak that renders him invisible, kills six of Bran’s seven stewards while the King was away in Ireland. Bran’s son Caradog, the seventh steward upon watching the other stewards cut down by a floating sword dies of despair. Caswallawn usurps Bran’s position as King of Prydain. Manawydan, his nephew goes into hiding out of fear of his uncle. Caswallawn fades away shortly after this and isn't mentioned again in the stories remembered by the Mabinogi. It has been suggested that Manawydan is in fact a memory of Mandubracius. There seems to be fragments of a lost tradition of Caesar and Caswallawn fighting over a woman known as Fflur (literally Flower), possibly even a poetic way of referring to the fight for control of Britain, and seems to be quite old and possibly rather free of Caesar's works, as well as Geoffrey’s.

Cassivellaunus through his brief resistance certainly cemented his place in history, and even exists as part of the template that Geoffrey used for his 'Arthur', a warlord resisting invasion, ultimately betrayed by one of his own.

Let’s start with the news first. Thing’s have been quiet from over here lately, and I apologize for the lack of articles, but the short story did well enough that it stoked something, and I’d like to announce that I will be releasing a short story anthology very soon. In a flurry of creativity and writing I have been able to complete around twelve new short stories, as well as outlining (and somewhat writing) eight others. I find the short story format to be extremely liberating, and I came to the realization that I have basically been doing the background research for something like this for the last few years. Events and chronology and places have already been worked out far in advance, and so filling in the gaps with creative flourishes has been a simple task. I am going to be using a pen name for the first time, as you will see on the cover preview above. This is less because I want to, and more because it is more likely to gain greater traction outside of my normal reach with a more mainstream sounding name. I will continue to write here and on X (Formerly Twitter) as Aurochs and may still go back to Aurochs for this project before I release it.

Below is the current list of short stories, each featuring a Coeling prince (or princess) from the early 5th century, all the way to the early 7th. Dux looks at a young Garbanion, fighting his first battle along with his father Coel. The Relentless Raider features Coel’s daughter (Known as Gwawl to history, but here renamed to Dwywai), and Ceneu and Garbanian putting down a revolt of Cunedda of the Gododdin. Caer Ligualid is a tale of rebuilding featuring Gwrwst ap Ceneu, the founding King of Rheged. A Monster from the Irish Sea features Gwrwst and Mar ap Ceneu, driving away an Irish raid. The Stolen Sword follows Llenneac on a daring covert operation. In The Wolves of Eidyn Bran ap Dyfnwal watches as his cousin Arthwys crushes Anglian Foederati. The Horde is another tale of rebuilding, featuring Einion ap Mor and riches he stumbles across. The Boar’s daughter is a new take on the Tristan and Iseult tale, featuring Cynfarch of Rheged. The Cattle Raid follows a young Pabo ab Arthwys, on an unsanctioned raid against Lleuddun of Gododdin. The Beast of Ynys Mon is my own take on the story of Cath Palug, a monsterous Cat, featuring Ceidio ab Arthwys. Perpetual Winter falls during the volcanic winter of 536-537, with Cynfelyn ab Arthwys preparing for the worst. The Terrible Chieftain features Eliffer ab Arthwys, newly crowned High-King. A Blood Feud features Guenddoleu ap Ceidio at the battle of Arfderydd. The Maid at the Fountain features a young Owain ap Urien, and an unfortunate event. Yr Affalleneu is Myrddin’s hidden musings amongst the Caledonian forest. Catraeth is… well Catraeth. Fear the One-Eyed King is already released, Urien discussing with Owain why Guallauc is allowed to continually terrorize the north. Morfydd is our own Romeo and Juliet with her betrothal and love for Cynon ap Clydno. The Rising Flame is my own take on Alex Woolf’s theory that Cadwallon of Gwynedd was actually Cadwallon Liu, a great-grandson of Pabo ab Arthwys. And the final story, chronologically out of order, is Arthwys, and his victory at Badon.

In this endeavor I have not abandoned my “Illustrated Guide to the Hen Ogledd” which is roughly 80% completed, and I hope to have it released before Christmas still. The illustrations for it are mostly completed, and I am currently making decisions for a map (or series) of maps to be included.

As far as things here on substack. I am steadily chipping away at a major article looking at the Picts, as well as something a little different, an article discussing the pitfalls and problems with researching the historical Arthur, especially when jumping to the conclusion of “It’s this one guy in particular”. More looks at poetry, especially Moliant Cadwallon, and analyzing it in the context of Alex Woolf’s theories, as well as a sweeping broad chronological outline of the Coeling and events in the Hen Ogledd, as well as a ‘wild theories’ kind of article that I have mentioned I was working on earlier this year.

As always thank you all for reading and subscribing, I hope you all enjoy the upcoming projects.

Urien stood silently upon the battlements of Catraeth watching the autumn mist roll low across the hills,the distant sound of hooves echoing. Owain was pacing, the leather of his boots creaking faintly on the stone.

“He’s crossed west again,” Owain said, voice low. “Riders saw Guallauc and his warband passing through our southern road. No message. No banner raised. Do we call that kin?”

Urien exhaled slowly through his nose, gaze not leaving the distant mist. “Aye. And you will treat him as such.”

Owain stiffened. “He pecks kingdoms like a raven pecks at carrion. He shows no deference. We hold the north together in uneasy truce, and he rides unbidden?”

Urien turned, eyes dark. “You speak as though you were not drawn from the same well. Do you forget who he is? Or who we are?”

“I forget nothing,” Owain replied. “But my patience frays. You treat him like a brother, yet he’s barely able to accept any peace.”

“No,” said Urien. “He is not. He was once. Or might have been.”

He turned back to watching the mist. Then he spoke, his voice quieter, older.

“I saw the making of the One-Eyed King.”

Urien's voice was low, steady, but there was iron beneath it—something that had long since cooled, but never been quenched.

“We were seventeen—barely bearded, thumping lance on shield, shouting boasts of glory not yet earned. We were young and foolish and full of fire. I wore your grandfather’s lorica that day. Golden Roman scale, shining like the summer sun, though patched here and there with northern iron. It glimmered even in the sickly sun, as if defying the gloom.”

He paused, eyes far away.

“We rode to Camlann beneath Arthwys himself—the old High King, the Bear, our kin and war-lord. A banner of red and gold streaming over us, snapping in the cold wind. At his right rode Llenneac, shining in silver scale said to be Coel’s own, unblemished even in it’s old age. Two scions of Coel. Brothers.”

Urien pulled away a loose board from the battlements where the old roman walls were repaired with wood, frowning.

“I remember Guallauc well that morning—spirited, sharp-witted, laughing loud and long at my poor horsemanship. Even then he was broad of shoulder, dark-eyed, and already strong as a bull. He wore a silver helm, and from it flew a crest of black feathers, defiant, proud. A dark echo of his father’s white crest beside him, like night marching with day.”

“But then came the fog.”

Urien’s voice thinned, a long silence trailing his words.

“It rolled down from the hills like a living thing—grey and thick and foul-smelling, choking out the sun until the earth was drowned in shadow. The banners disappeared. The shouting dulled to moans. And then the killing began.”

“The battle-din was a nightmare. Spear on shield, iron grinding, horses and men shrieking… at a point we all sound the same. Smoke rose from burning huts near Caer Camlann, and arrows fell like dead leaves. We struck their flank near the riverbank—our cavalry thundered across the shallow river crossing crashing into the host attacking Ceidio’s fortress. Hooves churned frost, blood, and shattered bone. I killed my first man there—some brute from Alt Clut, swinging a chipped axe and howling curses. He came at me like death unshackled. His axe took my horses legs, my spear gone and shield under the dead horse. I leapt to my feet, sword flashing from scabbard as the rest of our Teulu rode through their ranks. The man screamed his kings name as the axe glanced across my lorica and I plunged my sword into his throat.”

He looked down at his hand, as though remembering the weight of that first kill.

“But Llenneac... Llenneac fell like a hero of old. Not cowering, not cornered—but charging, sword high, toward the riverbank where Arthwys stood against Medraut of Gododdin. Llenneac carved a path through man after man, silver scale slick with blood, his white crest torn and trailing like a comet’s tail. He fought on, blade flashing in arcs of fire, and each stroke felled a foe. Ten men? Twenty? But still he pressed on.”

Urien’s eyes burned now with something older than grief—reverence, perhaps.

“He was nearly there. Medraut had driven Arthwys into the riverbend, where the wind cut like knives and the sand was slick with blood. The High King stood beneath the tattered red-gold banner, Caledfwlch broken in hand, the last of his Teulu with him. And Llenneac, his brother, would not let him die alone.”

“But fate cares not, and cold the wind blows.”

Urien’s voice grew cold.

“A nameless man met him as he thundered towards Medraut. No armor. Just rage and battle-lust. I saw the blue-green tattoos on his chest and square shield. The Pict thrust a crude spear—ash-hafted, the head still covered in forge-scale—and struck Llenneac beneath the arm, where even Coel’s silver scale gave no shelter. And that was the end. The hero fell not to a champion, but to some wretch from Pictland.”

“Guallauc saw it—no more than a dozen strides away. He had lost his horse and his helm, waded through the gore teeth bared like a beast. He saw his father fall—collapse without a cry, face-first into the red mud, sword lost beneath him. And something in him shattered.”

Urien’s hand tightened on the edge of the battlements.

“He screamed then—not a name, not a curse—just rage, raw and wordless. And after that, I think, Guallauc forgot who he was. Or perhaps he remembered only the part that would survive.”

He looked up, meeting Owain’s eyes.

“And on the riverbank, Arthwys bled. Medraut’s blade was red, and the golden banner sagged in the dying wind. The High King fell with three of his shield-men about him. I watched Medraut fall to his knees bleeding beside our High-King with what was left of Coel’s sword buried in his chest through maille, tunic, and heart. Medraut took his last breath on that riverbank.”

He looked at Owain.

“Two brothers, two kings—fallen within the same hour. The sisters of Aballava could not save him. The old High-King dead, carried to his final raid on a ship to the otherworld. After that the flame that bound the Coeling scattered into sparks. Some went cold. Others burned wild.”

He stepped closer to Owain, voice barely more than a whisper.

“That was the hour Guallauc lost his eye. No one speaks of it—not even he—but I saw him pull the broken shaft from his face, blood streaming down his cheek. He fought on blind on that side, cleaving men like harvesting grain. When the smoke cleared, he stood with Eliffer’s gosgordd, the right side of his face was blackened, the eye gone. But his sword hand never wavered.”

Urien’s jaw clenched.

“He left that field a man, aye—but not the one he might’ve been. The Guallauc we knew was buried in that mire beside Llenneac. What rose was the One-Eyed King.”

Owain stood still now, the anger cooling from his face.

“That changed him,” Urien said. “Changed all of us. But Guallauc... he became iron, hammered and warped. While I turned to alliances and fortresses”

Owain coughing mockingly.

“Aye boy I raided too, how else to make it through those years? Guallauc was steeped in blood. When the sun failed us and the fields yielded rot—when the summer itself gave no warmth—he endured. He did more than that. He fought. Patrolling the southern border relentlessly. No Saeson warband would enter Elmet. Endless raiding, taking cattle from Lindon, Gododdin, Alt Clut, anyone he could… and it kept our enemies weak.”

“There was no peace after Camlann,” Urien continued. “Only vengeance. And much of it was among our own. Eliffer of Ebrauc—slain by his own brother, Ceidio. Coeling slaying Coeling, crown for crown. Then Guenddoleu, Ceidio’s son, took up his father’s name in fire. But not for feud. He reached to me.”

He looked at Owain.

“I allied with Guenddoleu. Not just for Rheged—but for kinship, for some thread of order. We tried to bind the wounds. Petitioned Eliffer’s sons for peace. Peredur and Gwrgi would have none of it. They waited, bided their time, and attacked at Arfderydd. You saw first hand the weight of a blood feud after you slayed Ida’s whelp. Guallauc and I settled with the twin kings, and again they bided their time and waited. They betrayed us again. Their brother, Madog fled to Gododdin, leading Morcant’s armies as his Pen Teulu, And so the bloodletting continued.”

A long silence.

“You watched as Guallauc broke them at Catraeth. Leading his riders into their camp and almost ending the battle before it started. I saw him take three heads in one pass, sword shining in hand like his father’s. He came to me then, and looked at me with that single fierce eye. Told me what was to come, how Eliffer’s line would end. When the day’s killing was done, he marched on Caer Ebrauc, and drove Gwgon from the fortress, carrying Peredur’s head taunting the boy.”

“And yet,” Owain said, slowly, “you call this man friend?”

“I call him shield,” Urien said. “He is no gentle hand, but his wrath has kept the men of Lindon wary, they dare not cross into Elmet. Ælla is terrified of him, even though he gives us both tribute, and Ida’s ilk think twice before coming south even to steal a few cattle. Not for fear of me, but of him. He is the spear of the Coeling, and every man, from Pictland to Cerniu knows his name.”

Urien stepped forward, placing a firm hand on his son’s shoulder.

“We are the blood of Coel, Owain. Scattered, cracked, but still bound. You will meet Guallauc again. You will ride beside him, or face him. But if you are wise, you will do the first. Yield pride where you must, and hold the line when it matters. He has spilled the blood of kin before. But only when kin rose against him.”

He looked his son in the eyes.

“Let us not give him cause again.”

I know my normal fare has been scarce of late, as I am working hard on wrapping up the Illustrated Guide so I can get it released before the end of the year. I have completed 55 feature illustrations, with around 20 more to go, along with a section of assorted illustrations at the end of the book that will only be captioned. I will do this for figures that have less that can be said about them, as well as concepts that are self-explanatory, and for things I want to include just because I like them.

The concept for this story has been plaguing my dreams for a month or so. I have tried my hand at fiction before here, but I do not feel that it’s a strong point of mine. I am not a great writer at all in my opinion, but I do get the urge to paint something with words once and a while. Looking at Guallauc’s legacy in the songs of the Bards, though less than say Urien, still gives one a heavy impression of the man. A violent and dangerous raider of a king, an enemy of everyone but Urien it seems. In the late 6th century the Coel’s Kindom of Northern Britain became extremely fractured, and it seems that even amongst those still holding true to their kin were still wary of one another, and it seems those ties were severed as soon as Urien was assassinated. Guallauc did ultimately make war on Urien’s sons, and I get the impression that his motivations probably lie in a grand opportunity to make Elmet the most powerful kingdom of the north, or more nobly (kind of) resentment of Urien’s great influence, entitlement (being that the only Coeling left that was around his age were Pabo’s children), and even more speculatively a sense of duty to maintain his family’s claims, with him the only one to be able to ensure it. We of course can’t project our analysis of personal feelings into the past, but I think it still makes for a fun read.

It’s been a quiet month here, I’ve been busily chipping away at the Illustrated Guide, which you will find two possible versions of the cover above. I have close to forty illustrations completed, and will include previews below for my paid subscribers. I am going to try to release an article this week, but no promises, as the guide is the priority right now. I will also be giving each of my paid subscribers a free e-book version of the guide once it is completed. Thank you all for your patience during this lull in posting.

Paid Subscriber Preview Below, These are the raw images before final blending into the print layout.

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One of the first praise-poems to Urien appearing in The Book of Taliesin, commonly referred to as “The Battle of Gwen Ystrad”, heavily associates Urien with Catraeth. Catraeth is best known for the battle that bears it’s name, with that battle being the subject of the well-known poem Y Gododdin. I have lightly touched on John Koch’s theories that Catraeth was in fact not a battle of the Gododdin and the Angles, but instead a mixed force, with a coalition of exiled Coeling princes, the Gododdin, Alt Clut, the Picts, and Angle allies on one side, with Urien of Rheged, Guallauc of Elmet, and their own Angle allies opposing them. This interpretation challenges a number of previously held notions, not just the contenders in battle, but the sphere of influence and power that the Angles maintained at the time, arguably giving them a much smaller slice of the North at this time. When looked at in the context of the events of the 590s, the constant internecine warfare of the waning Brythonic kingdoms of the Hen Ogledd (Old North) would have made the Britons hard pressed to stage an attack upon the kingdoms of the Angles post-Aethefrith. Taking this with internal evidence of the presence of certain historical figures gives us a fairly strong case for the battle taking place in the 580s before the Angles had truly solidified their strangle-hold on the North. The poem “The Battle of Gwen Ystrad” may actually be the battle of Catraeth seen from Urien’s side. Let’s take a stanza-by-stanza look at the Poem.

Taliesin opens with Urien’s men at Catraeth, generally accepted to have been Catterick in North Yorkshire, with Urien likely occupying the old Roman fort of Cataractonium, probably part of the Coeling reoccupation of the Roman fortresses on the way to Hadrian’s wall (as well as the wall itself).1 Urien is here called Wledig, a term with a faded meaning, but may be equivalent to an Over-King or High-King, someone who commands other lords, and is usually reserved for great leaders, notable Arthur and Magnus Maximus. Urien is already famous and powerful, other kings give him tribute, he is a fierce Christian warlord.

The men of Prydyn are likely not Urien’s men, with Prydyn’s meaning shifting from name of the entire island of Britain, to meaning a more localized further north context, possible indicating territories north of the Roman walls. No matter where the try to hide, there is no shelter from Urien’s host.

A Bloody battle at the borders of a kingdom.

The defeated warriors lay their swords in defeat at the victorious Urien’s feet. Though they were united in their purpose, Urien still destroyed them. The interpretation here of Urien as a “grey-haired king” is notable, as this is a testament to Urien’s long reign. In 580 Urien would have been around 60 years old, and we know in the prior decade his son Owain was old enough to act as his Penteulu, speaking with the kings authority to Fflamddwyn before the Battle of Argoed Llwyfain. Urien’s twin sister Efyrddyl was said to have married Eliffer Gosgorddfawr of Ebrauc, making Urien the maternal uncle of the sons of Eliffer, some of which seem to have fought on the side of the Gododdin against their uncle. Eliffer’s floruit of 520-550 would establish that Urien and his sister had to have been born either before, or around the beginning of Eliffer’s floruit, with Efyddyl being a much younger wife.

A further testament to the slaughter induced by Urien.

Urien’s men do not waver, and as the mead is gone too soon, so is joy when battle commences.

Taliesin closes with a refrain common with the poems to Urien.

This is, of course, not the only piece of evidence linking Urien to Catraeth, and gleaning much historicity from battle poems such as this is difficult of course, as much of the imagery is heroic and battle-centric in nature, it’s purpose of course is not to preserve history, but instead to praise Urien, but we can still establish a few things. Urien and his men rode out to meet a force of Prydyn’s men, likely the coalition of warriors that formed the host of the Gododdin, they rode out from Catraeth, and they slaughtered the enemy. Catraeth itself is outside of what territory Rheged is generally assumed to have controlled. Following the death of Eliffer (likely in battle against either Ida of Bernicia at the end of his supposed seven year struggle to solidify power, or alternatively in a dynastic dispute against Eliffer’s own brother Ceidio2) Urien and Guallauc seem to have divided some of Eliffer’s territory of Ebrauc, with Eliffer’s sons either as wards or exiles, leading to a decade long conflict, starting with the Battle of Arfderydd, an attack led by the sons of Eliffer against Ceidio’s son Gwenddoleu3, Urien’s earlier battle of Argoed Llwyfain may commemorate a component of that battle, with Urien meeting the Angle allies of Eliffer’s sons in battle while Gwenddoleu fought Peredur and Gwrgi.

This is why looking at the greater context of what we have, instead of just focusing on a single figure is so important. By taking the Annales Cambriae’s entries, the Triads, Y Gododdin, and Taliesin’s poems to Guallauc and Urien, we can begin to paint a bigger picture than was originally possible, by looking for consistent points and relations across all of these sources.

Urien features in my upcoming book “Auroch’s Illustrated Guide to the Hen Ogledd” which will feature figures spanning 300 years, from the rise of the Post-Roman Brythonic Kingdoms, to their ultimate collapse, and evolution. All of the Coeling with feature, as well as important figures from Alt Clut, the Gododdin, and the Gaels of Dal Riata, Ceredig Wledig, Cynon ap Clydno, and Dyfnwal Hen, Men of the Gododdin, like Letan, Gerguan and Medrawt, Gabran, Aedan, Artuir, all the way to Bridei.

Marwnad Cunedda, or The Death-Song of Cunedda, celebrates the Northern warlord Cunedda, who later tradition attaches to the Gododdin, is an intriguing peek into the Brythonic Heroic Age, and stands as possibly one of the oldest extant Brythonic poems.

John Koch notes a number of points favoring the archaic dating of the poem, and places it as a genuine product of the 5th or 6th century. The poem makes no mention of the Anglo-Saxons, Cunedda's enemies are the Coeling, and the Men of Bryneich (Pre-Anglian Bernicia). The poem, if genuinely archaic gives additional weight to the Coeling as a semi-unified political entity in the North in the early period, as well as giving authenticity to the existence of Coel1 himself.

The poem is one of the most evocative of our extant Death-Songs, naming Cunedda a “Relentless attacker”, and that “chieftain will wear chieftain down to submission” and telling of Cunedda’s power “over the earth, like the sigh of the wind against the ash wood”. “His hounds will look back over his borderland”, and “clothe the rightfully qualified bards”. Cunedda is repeated described as a defensive bulwark “The thick defensive door at the wide breach” and “Merciless, without equal”. Marwnad Cunedda sings the highest praise possible for Cunedda.

While the poem at first glance seems like a standard praise and lament for the dead warlord, a few of the Coeling centric lines give me the notion of a different possibility. One of the first lines mentioning the Coeling appears quite early and states "They will hold fast with the Coeling in a truce of peace". This echoes the tradition of Coel's daughter marrying Cunedda, creating a peace between the two factions. Cunedda's wife is called Gwawl ferch Coel in the Jesus College pedigrees. Gwawl is not a common given name, literally meaning wall. Considering the locale of these figures, this is likely a reference to Hadrian's wall. Perhaps this 'marriage' was a treaty binding Cunedda to the lands north of the wall, and the Coeling south? It's still very possible this was cemented with marriage, but we can only speculate.

The supposed marriage to Coel’s daughter does help us possibly place Cunedda in a rough chronology. He could range from a younger contemporary of Coel, born late in the same rough generation, or belong to Coel’s children’s generation. Coel himself must be dated from his descendants. Working from Coel’s most easily dateable descendants we can establish a rough floruit for Coel from 410-440, which places Cunedda roughly in the middle of the 5th century. You could similarly work backwards from the Kings of Gwynedd, who supposedly descend from this northern Cunedda, however there is some reason to doubt their descent from Cunedda, which we will touch on later. If we look at Maelgwn, a supposed great-grandson of Cunedda, who is generally considered to be born around 500, we can establish a range. Considering an average 30 year generation (less useful for short spans like this, but increasingly better with more generations) Cunedda is placed with a birth around 410, giving him a floruit of 430-460 which considering his relation with Coel would be perfectly acceptable.

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An oft repeated legend claims that a son of Owain Gwynedd, named Madoc, led a voyage to lands across the sea, fleeing from internecine fighting back home. Owain ap Gruffudd, better known as Owain Gwynedd, or Owain Fawr (Owain the Great) is remembered as one of the greatest kings of Gwynedd, ruling from 1137-1170. Owain had a prodigious number of children, but most pedigrees and sources do not actually mention Madoc. Madoc is eventually added as an illegitimate younger son. Madoc’s murky origins unfortunately don’t get us off to a great start.

The first reference we have to Madoc comes from a poem the 15th century Poet Maredudd ap Rhys

This connects Madoc both to a tradition of seafaring and to Owain as a descendant. What it doesn’t do however, is connect Madoc to the Americas. The next reference we find to this Madoc comes from David Powel’s “Historie of Cambria”, a translation and expansion upon Humphrey Llwyds expansions of Caradoc of Llancarfan’s work. While Humprey mention’s Madoc in his work, and provides the initial notion of him sailing to an ‘unknown land’, Powel gives us much more detail and extrapolation Madoc. (passage amended for intelligibility.)

Madoc another of Owen Gwyneth’s sons left the land in contention betwixt his brethren, and prepared ships with men and munition, and sought [adventures] by seas, sailing West, and leaving the coast of Ireland so far north, that he came to a land unknown, where he saw many strange things. This land must needs be some part of that country of which the Spaniards affirm themselves to be the first finders since Hanno’s time; for by reason and order of Cosmographie, this land, to the which Madoc came, must needs be some part of Nova Hispania or Florida. Whereupon it is manifest, that that country was long before by Britons discovered.

He then mentions a return voyage, which Madoc spreads word of this paradise and sets sail again.

And after he had returned home and declared the pleasant and fruitful countries that he had seen without inhabitants ; and upon the contrary part, for what barren and wild ground his brethren and nephews did murder one another he prepared a number of ships, and got with him such men and women as were desirous to live in quietness , and taking leave of his friends took his journey thitherward again . Therefore it is to be presupposed , that he and his people inhabited part of those countries.

Powel’s work is the kernel of the Madoc legend. Powel defends his claims, and states that this is seen in the work of the poet Guten Owain, which is unfortunately for us, lost.

This Madoc arriving in that Western country, unto the which he came, in the year 1170. left most of his people there: and returning back for more of his own nation, acquaintance and friends, to inhabit that fair and large country: went thither again with ten sails, as I find noted by Gutyn Owen. I am of opinion that the land, whereunto he came, was some part of Mexico: the causes which make me to think so be these.

Powel then gives his own reasoning as to why they must have landed in Mexico.

The common report of the inhabitants of that country, which affirm, that their rulers descended from a strange nation, that came thither from a far country: which thing is confessed by Mutezuma king of that country, in his oration made for quieting of his people, at his submission to the king of Castile, Hernando Cortez being then present, which is laid down in the Spanish Chronicles of the conquest of the West Indies.

The British words and names of places, used in that country even to this day, do argue the same as when they talk together, they use this word Gwrando, which is, Hearken or listen. Also they have a certain bird with a white head, which they call Penguin, that is, white head. But the Island of Corroeso, the cape of Bryton, the river of Gwyndor, and the white rock of Pengwyn, which be all Brytish or Welsh words, do manifestly shew that it was that country which Madoc and his people inhabited.

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Reconstruction

Gwenddoleu is seen here wearing a simple tunic, pants and boots, the boots similar to earlier roman Calcei. He wears a belt adorned with a high-status imported bucked of Frankish style, and a penannular brooch common to the period. His war gear seen below features a derivative of late-roman helmets, high status maille armour, a spear based on British finds, and a migration era spatha with a simple hilt with Ivory fittings. Such high-status armour would have been prized, and would have likely been used and reused for a handful of generations. He wears gilded prick spurs mentioned in the poetry of his distant cousin Llywarch Hen.

On to the original sources we have mentioned Gwenddoleu. Presented below without comment.

Bonedd Gwŷr y Gogledd

Gwendoleu & Nud & Chof meibyon Keidyaw m. Arthwys m. Mar m. Keneu m. Coel

Annales Cambriae

The battle of Arfderydd between the sons of Eliffer and Gwenddolau son of Ceidio; in which battle Gwenddolau fell; Merlin went mad

Triads

Three Bull-Protectors of the Island of Britain:

Cynfawr Host-Protector, son of Cynwyd Cynwydion,
and Gwenddolau son of Ceidiaw,
and Urien son of Cynfarch.

Three Faithful War-Bands of the Island of Britain:

The War-Band of Cadwallawn, when they were fettered;
and the War-Band of Gafran son of Aeddan, at the time of his complete disappearance;
and the War-Band of Gwenddolau son of Ceidiaw at Arfderydd, who continued the battle for a fortnight and a month after their lord was slain;
The number of each one of the War-Bands was twenty-one hundred men.

Three Men who performed the Three Fortunate Assassinations:

Gall son of Dysgyfdawd who slew the Two Birds of Gwenddolau. And they had a yoke of gold on them. Two corpses of the Cymry they ate for their dinner, and two for their supper;
And Ysgafnell son of Dysgyfdawd, who slew Edelfled king of Lloegr;
And Diffydell son of Dysgyfdawd who slew Gwrgi Garwlwyd ('Rough Grey'). That Gwrgi used to make a corpse of one of the Cymry every day, and two on each Saturday so as not to slay on Sunday.

Three Horses who carried the Three Horse-Burdens:

Black Moro, horse of Elidir Mwynfawr, who carried on his back seven and a half people from Penllech in the North to Penllech in Môn. These were the seven people: Elidir Mwynfawr, and Eurgain his wife, daughter of Maelgwn Gwynedd, and Gwyn Good Companion, and Gwyn Good Distributor, and Mynach Naomon his counsellor, and Prydelaw the Cupbearer, his butler, and Silver Staff his servant, and Gelbeinevin his cook, who swam with his two hands to the horse's crupper - and that was the half-person.
Corvan, horse of the sons of Eliffer, bore the second Horse-Burden: he carried on his back Gwrgi and Peredur and Dunawd the Stout and Cynfelyn the Leprous, to look upon the battle-fog of (the host of) Gwenddolau (in) Arfderydd. (And no one overtook him but Dinogad son of Cynan Garwyn, upon Swift Roan, and he won censure and dishonour from then till this day.)
Heith, horse of the sons of Gwerthmwl Wledig, bore the third Horse-Burden: he carried Gweir and Gleis and Archanad up the hill of Maelawr in Ceredigion to avenge their father.

Poetry

Hoianau from the Black Book of Carmarthen, attributed to Myrddin.

I saw Gwenddoleu in the track of the kings,
Collecting booty from every border;
Now indeed he lies still under the brown earth;
The chief of the kings of the north, of greatest generosity.

Afallenneu from the Black Book of Carmarthen, attributed to Myrddin.

After Gwenddoleu no one shall honour me,
No diversions attend me, No fair women visit me.
Though at Arderydd I wore a golden torque
The swan-white woman despises me now.

The Dialogue of Gwyn ap Nudd and Gwyddno Garanhir from the Black Book of Carmarthen, attributed to Myrddin.

I have been in the place where was killed Gwendoleu,
The son of Ceidio, the pillar of songs,
When the ravens screamed over blood.

Dialogue Between Myrddin and his sister, Gwenddydd from the Red Book of Hergest.

As Gwenddoleu was slain in the bloodshed of Arderydd.

Peniarth MS. 60

The Gwyddbwll of Gwnddolef ap Keidio: Gold board, silver [men]; they would play by themselves.

Geoffrey of Monmouth’s Vita Merlini

Meanwhile it happened that a strife arose
between several of the chiefs of the kingdom,
and throughout the cities they wasted the innocent people with fierce war.
Peredur, king of the North Welsh, waged war
on Gwenddoleu, who ruled the realm of Scotland;
and already the day fixed for the battle was at hand,
and the leaders were ready in the field, and the troops were fighting,
falling on both sides in a miserable slaughter.

Peirian Faban

Weeping is not joyful, nor is it best.
Myrddin says: great is the sorrow
For the death of my brothers and Gwenddoleu.
Llywelyn, Gwgawn, best of the generous,

When the fierce battle would be fought,
when there would be joyous death, when there would be a broken shoulder,
when there would be heart’s blood before he would be put to flight.
Because of the memory of Gwenddolau and his companions,
woe to me for my death—how slowly it comes.

Englynion y Clyweid

Have you heard what Gwendoleu sings,
while in the valleys?
A tree in another wood is his.

Excerpt from the work of Robert Vaughan.

It chanced that the shepherds of Rhydderch and Aeddan aforesaied, by the instigation of the Devil, fell out for no other cause than a lark's nest; who, having beaten one another to the efussion of their blood, at last acquainted their lords of the whole strife, and they presently engaged themselves in the quarrel, entering into open hostility with such eagerness and hatred that having mustered their forces and committed some outrages, they appointed a day and place to try the matter by dint of sword; and Aeddan fearign to be too weak to encounter Rhydderch, drew to his side Gwenddoleu the son of Ceidiaw of the tribe of Coel Godeboc, a very powerful prince, and they, joining their forces, met Rhydderch at a place called Arderydd, where upon the first encounter Gwenddoleu was slain, and with him Llywelyn, Gwgawn, Einiawn, and Rhiwallawn, the sons of Morfryn, Merlin caledonius's bretheren; and in the end after a great slaughter on both sides, Rhydderch obtained the victory, and Aeddan fled the country.

What to make of all of this?

Our hard historical sources (which I consider the pedigrees and the Annals) give us some certainties, his ancestry, and his death. A scion of Coel’s dynasty that dominated Northern Britain in the 5th and 6th centuries, dying in battle against his own cousins in 573 at Arfderydd according to the annals. Peredur and Gwrgi, the sons of Eliffer, Gwenddoleu’s uncle, made war upon him. Other traditions lump other figures into this battle, such as Rhydderch Hael of Alt Clut, and Áedán mac Gabráin of Dál Riata. This death and his ancestry (at least as the son of Ceidio) are consistent through most sources, and are almost certainly genuine. Through placename evidence we can conclude that Gwenddoleu ruled the area surrounding modern Arthuret, with nearby Carwinley being descended from Caer Wenddoleu, Gwenddoleu’s Fortress. This expansion of Coeling territory North of the wall is significant. Coeling territory in the first few generations seemed centered around Hadrian’s wall and the lands immediately south. This expansion during the early 6th century is an oddity. When many kingdoms were on the backfoot, shrinking in territory and fracturing within, the territory of the Coeling was expanding, not only around Carwinley, but also further north around modern Kelso, that was earlier known as the kingdom of Calchfynydd. These kingdoms first appear attached to individuals in the mid to late 6th century, when it is highly unlikely they carved the territory out on their own, especially as Anglian power began gaining a foothold in Northern Britain starting in 547 under Ida of Bernicia. The establishment of these kingdoms likely belongs in the generation preceding them, in the twilight of Arthwys of Ebrauc’s reign. This extension of power hints at the influence of the Brigantian High-Kingship held by Arthwys, Garbanian, Mar, and Coel.

Eliffer, Ceidio, and the Roots of Arfderydd.

A big question that rears it’s head is, why do the sons of Eliffer attack their own Cousin? The answer may lay in a small snippet in later Arthuriana, and a conflict between Gwenddoleu’s father and Eliffer. Both Ceidio and Eliffer are almost certainly sons of Arthwys. Ceidio is always given as a son of Arthwys but Eliffer is given a different pedigree, descending from Gwrwst Ledlum, which would shift Eliffer back a generation. Not only is this chronologically unsatisfactory, it also can be easily explained. In the pedigrees for Alt Clut there is Elidir son of Gwrwst son of Dyfnwal Hen. A copyist may have taken it upon himself to ‘correct’ the ancestry, and assumed that Gwrwst ap Dyfnwal and Gwrwst ap Ceneu were the same person, and thus Elidir Mwynfawr and Eliffer Gosgorddfawr were the same person. In earlier works the two names are seemingly considered completely different, but eventually were conflated. Evidence for this can be seen in my article on Eliffer. The evidence points to Eliffer as a son of Arthwys being the correct interpretation. Ceidio himself may be the historical nugget behind the foster-brother of Arthur Cai Hir, later known as Sir Kay. There is a curious instance where Cai is responsible for the death of Llachau (one of Arthur’s sons). Llachau is possibly a distant memory of Eliffer himself. If this narrative is a folklorised piece of history this may give us a reason behind the battle of Arfderydd/Arthuret. If Cai/Ceidio indeed killed Eliffer/Llacheu, possible in a dispute over who would be high king, this paints Arfderydd in a much more interesting context. Not a petty battle over territory, or a lark’s nest, but a blood feud, and the start of a civil war amongst the Coeling that culminates in the Battle of Catraeth, commemorated in Y Gododdin. My good friend and fellow Hen Ogledd scholar has surmised that Gwenddoleu and Urien may have been allied, and that Urien’s battle of Argoed Llyfain is in fact another component of the battle of Arfderydd. This begins to give us a broader view of the political sides forming around this period. Gwenddoleu, Urien, and Guallauc of Elmet (all related), and The sons of Eliffer, Peredur, Gwrgi, Madog?2, Cynfelyn, and Dunod (also all related). This civil war directly contributed to Anglian dominance in the North, and no doubt made the emergence of Northumbria possible, with the considerable power formerly held by the Coeling Hegemony fracture. If we are to trust the triads, Gwenddoleu alone was able to bring to bear a host of 2100 men, a massive force for the period, if the other Coeling had similar capabilities the Brigantian High-Kingship would likely be able to bring many times that to war, making them a very difficult opponent for the early Anglian kingdoms, as well as their Brythonic, Pictish, and Dal Riatan neighbors to the north. A fractured Coeling hegemony slowly waned on the periphery, and became mostly3 irrelevant after Catraeth.

We see that Gwenddoleu features heavily in the poetry attributed to Myrddin. From the Myrddin poetry we can see that Myrddin was in service to Gwenddoleu, possibly as a trusted advisor and Bard. He places Gwenddoleu as one of the chief princes of the north, a generous gold-giver and raider, and capable of withstanding raids himself (Thus remembered as one of the ‘Bull Protectors of Britain). Myrddin himself says he wore a high-status ‘Golden Torc’ at Arfderydd. He is included as the owner of one of the magical Thirteen Treasures of Britain, a Gwyddbwll board made of Gold with Silver pieces that could play itself, once again reiterating his power and influence. Robert Vaughan a later writer notes that he was ‘a very powerful prince’.

The most curious reference to Gwenddoleu comes in the triad “Three Men who performed the Three Fortunate Assassinations”

Gall son of Dysgyfdawd who slew the Two Birds of Gwenddolau. And they had a yoke of gold on them. Two corpses of the Cymry they ate for their dinner, and two for their supper;

We see the them of Gold trapping repeated here, once again indicating the richness of Gwenddoleu, but the object of the assassinations is not Gwenddoleu himself, but two monstrous man-eating Birds. This has been interpreted as a holdout of earlier human-sacrifice, with Gwenddoleu as a pagan holdout against his predominantly Christian (possibly pseudo-Christian) cousins. There is unfortunately little evidence to verify these claims, and there may be an alternative interpretation. Owain and the kings of Rheged are often associated with Ravens and are later assigned a medieval Heraldic device featuring Ravens, and in fact, later tradition makes these literal Ravens who attack Arthur’s warriors while Owain and Arthur are playing Gwyddbwll. This could just be folkloric fantasy or a memory of Owain’s warriors being poetically likened to Ravens. This gives the possibility that Gwenddoleu’s birds were actually trusted warlords or part of his Teulu (household troops). This triad does not paint Gwenddoleu in the noble light seen in the Myrddin poetry and may hint at a division of views between the factions of Coeling that is held over into later periods, but just like with the pagan interpretation this is just speculation.

Gwenddoleu is almost universally accepted as a historical person, but even with that acceptance we know almost nothing of his life. We can only estimate when he was born, and guess at his reputation and influence. This is a great example of the mere crumbs we have to work with when it comes to most figures from the Brythonic Heroic Age. Gwenddoleu’s ultimate role helps show us how the downward spiral began for many of the Brythonic Kingdoms, often not falling prey to foreign incursion, but from strings of protracted infighting.

What I believe to be one of the earliest ‘weavings’ of historical fact into a legendary framework is Taliesin’s ‘Preiddeu Annfwn”1 which would seem to be a retelling of Arthur’s final battle and death at the Battle of Camlann.

This poem is full of deeper references to the ancient mythic corpus that an often thin veneer of Christianity sits over. The composer of Preiddeu Annwfn, Taliesin, was no doubt a Christian, however, he was an extremely learned man and knew much of the lore of ages past. The poem references Gwair, a figure who is likely related to Gwydion from the Mabinogi, a figure with many deep mythic connotations. Taliesin draws upon the ancient Bronze cauldrons so important to his Celtic forbears, wonderfully wrought prized possessions, giving what is essentially the first ‘Grail-Quest’ among Arthuriana, simultaneously inspiring a folkloric retelling of Preiddeu Annfwn in the incident with Diwrnach in the later tale, Culhwch and Olwen. As such the Grail may have deep roots surpassing Arthuriana. If Preiddeu Annfwn is indeed a ‘Marwnad Arthur’ Death-Song of Arthur, then that implies that the Cauldron-myth poetically interspersed is certainly older than learned Taliesin, dating to well before the 6th century. Diwrnach’s Cauldron appears in the list of the ‘Thirteen Treasures of Britain’ under the variation of the name Dyrnwch. The Cauldron itself has often been linked to ancient Celtic cauldrons like the famous Gundestrup cauldron, a work of fine silver. Though the Cauldron was found in Denmark, the metalwork itself seems to be of Thracian origin, with the artistic motifs being distinctly Celtic.

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