Remembering Llewelyn...

Seven hundred and thirty years ago on the 11th day of December...

Where is Llywelyn? Ble mae o?

He was due back eight nights ago.

The low sun creeps across the sky

And still I wait. He cannot die.

Without him, Wales might cease to be!

Ble mae Llywelyn? Where is he?

Where is Llywelyn? Ble mae o?

With banners bright we saw him go.

His scarlet lions shone in the sun—

I know this war can still be won—

and Cymru still can flourish, free!

Ble mae Llywelyn? Where is he?

Where is Llywelyn? Ble mae o?

I watch and wait; my worries grow,

But from the south I get no news.

The English king cannot refuse

To make peace soon, and then we’ll see…

Ble mae Llywelyn? Where is he?

Where is Llywelyn? Ble mae o?

Gwenllian fach, I do not know.

I wish that I could hold you tight.

I walk the battlements each night.

The sunrise lights no hope in me.

Ble mae Llywelyn? Where is he?

Where is Llywelyn? Ble mae o?

Outside Cilmari, in the snow,

Uncomforted, they say he died

In arms struck down. I know they lied.

He must live still! It cannot be!

Ble mae Llywelyn? Where is he?

Where is Llywelyn? Ble mae o?

To Avalon I’d have him go,

Like Arthur, live, and still fight on.

My time is spent. I must be gone.

Remember Eleanor, my dear—

Ble mae Llywelyn?  I am here…

- G R Grove

Sunday...

The Colorado Welsh Society is having their Christmas tea this afternoon, and I'm scheduled to read two poems as part of the program. So guess what I was doing this morning... Here's the first.

Where is Llywelyn? Ble mae o?
He was due back eight nights ago.
The low sun creeps across the sky
And still I wait. He cannot die.
Without him, Wales might cease to be!
Ble mae Llywelyn? Where is he?

Where is Llywelyn? Ble mae o?
With banners bright we saw him go.
His scarlet lions shone in the sun—
I know this war can still be won—
and Cymru still can flourish, free!
Ble mae Llywelyn? Where is he?

Where is Llywelyn? Ble mae o?
I watch and wait; my worries grow,
But from the south I get no news.
The English king cannot refuse
To make peace soon, and then we’ll see…
Ble mae Llywelyn? Where is he?

Where is Llywelyn? Ble mae o?
Gwenllian fach, I do not know.
I wish that I could hold you tight.
I walk the battlements each night.
The sunrise lights no hope in me.
Ble mae Llywelyn? Where is he?

Where is Llywelyn? Ble mae o?
Outside Cilmari, in the snow,
Uncomforted, they say he died
In arms struck down. I know they lied.
He must live still! It cannot be!
Ble mae Llywelyn? Where is he?

Where is Llywelyn? Ble mae o?
To Avalon I’d have him go,
Like Arthur, live, and still fight on.
My time is spent. I must be gone.
Remember Eleanor, my dear—
Ble mae Llywelyn? I am here…

For more background, see Wikipedia.



-GRG

...and Wednesday...

The lunar eclipse was impressive. We had excellent viewing conditions here, clear and still and not too cold. Not feeling I could stay up most of the night and still go to work the next day, I went to bed early - around 7 pm - and got up again a bit after midnight. When I went outside to look, a big chunk of the moon was already dark, so I gathered my stuff together and settled in a lawn chair next to the truck, where I could lean back against it. After a couple of attempts at photography (small blurred spots) I gave it up and just enjoyed watching the show with binoculars and naked eyes, occasionally going back inside to warm up. Although there was a reddish tinge to the disk during totality, I reminded me more of a tarnished silver coin - base silver, perhaps, with a bit of copper in it. The most exciting moment was when the moon finally began to emerge from the earth's shadow again: first a faint brightening along one edge, then a perceptible silver rim, and at last a bright and slowly growing silver crescent - half a month's phases in an hour. I finally got to be again around three, and slept with the curtains open and the silver moonlight streaming in.

Before the eclipse, I also held a private solstice celebration - but that's a story for another day.

Today's photo: St. Lythan's Burial Chamber in south Wales.



-GRG

... and Friday

Another nice day here, although it may snow tomorrow. Maybe I can sneak a bit of writing in this weekend; I'm impatient to get started again. Three more weeks...

Meanwhile, the possible weather sounds appropriate, and the forecast for south Wales, which is similar, more appropriate still. December 11 is the 808th anniversary of the death of Llywelyn ap Gruffydd, last Prince of independent Wales. I visited his memorial again on my August Welsh trip - here's one of the pictures:



And another of the Welsh marker stone by the gate (there's an English version as well):



(Near this place was killed Llywelyn our last leader. 1282.)

Drink a toast to him tomorrow!

-GRG

Mist on the Mountains...

The Black Mountains again, on a different day. It would be easy to get lost if that cloud came a little lower.

Black Mountains...

I'll look up the details later on the map, but this one is looking north from a Roman and later medieval road.

back from Wales...

...and I actually got some work done on #4 during the hours on the plane. Continental now has power outlets under the seats, which is brilliant - no battery worries! I added a page to the current chapter, changed its title, and now feel I'm back on track. If only I didn't have to go back to the Day Job tomorrow... oh well.

The first week in Wales I spent in Caerdydd, on a Welsh language course. Tutor was good, and I feel I made real progress (I'm in the nearly-fluent level). We finished up the week at the National Eisteddfod, where I bought - surprise! - a few books. The second week I wandered around, partly in England (Gloucestershire) and partly in Wales (Black Mountains), researching sites for #5. This was out of order, but since I had the opportunity to take the language course in Wales with a group I usually join every other year in North America, I couldn't resist. However, I'm glad to get back to work on the Irish book. I've changed the trilogy name slightly, from Gwernin's Quest to Gwernin's Quests, as I think this middle trilogy is not so closely linked as one quest would imply.

Pictures later.

(edited to add: one of the places I stayed... and another)
-GRG

Reference Book of the Week

Another new feature - mini-reviews for reference books I've found useful, or recently discovered, or just enjoy.

Today's pick: The Archeology of Celtic Britain and Ireland c. AD 400-1200, by Lloyd Laing, professor of archeology at the University of Nottingham. First published in 2006 by Cambridge University Press.

At 420 pages, copiously illustrated with line drawings and black and white photographs, this is good value for money ($50 for the paperback edition on Amazon). No color plates, but you can't have everything. This is essentially a university-level textbook, not a mass-market coffee table book. The material is clearly written and extremely well-organized, and the author has, as he says in the preface, "endeavoured to remove as much jargon as is feasible." The book includes three appendices, abundant footnotes, suggestions for further reading, and an impressive bibliography.

After an introduction and a general survey of the Celtic world, the author gets down to details. The next eight chapters cover settlements, farming, everyday objects and equipment, industry and technology, trade and communications, clothes and jewelry, art and ornament, and the church. This is followed by area-specific chapters on south-western Britain, Wales, Ireland and the Isle of Man, Southern Scotland and northern England, and Northern Scotland. To cover all this ground in the space available (the appendices start at page 335) means that no discussion can be in any great depth, but Laing still manages to cram in an impressive amount of detail, and the abundant citations allow the interested reader to follow up on any particular point. No space is wasted on philosophical arm-waving; this is an "only the facts" treatment. I recommend it heartily.

The Law of Hywel

The Law of Hywel Dda is the name given by the Welsh to the native law of Wales as it developed before the Edwardian conquest in 1283. The Law is preserved in a collection of manuscripts written between the early 13th and early 16th centuries, but containing much older material, the core of which is said to have been in some way the work of the mid-10th century king called Hywel Dda (H. the Good).

All very interesting, you say with a yawn, but why should I care about a bunch of medieval lawbooks from a thousand or more years ago?

If your intention is to understand the medieval Welsh, and the British tribes and kingdoms from whom they evolved, you should care a great deal. Do you want to know what was important to the early Welsh, what they valued and did not value, and more especially the valuation they placed on differing items and ideas? How a king's court was structured, and manned, and sustained? How the tribes and kindreds interacted, how property was inherited, how crimes were defined, and how compensated? All of this and more is in the Law of Hywel. True, it is a rag-bag collection, copied and recopied by lawyers who added and subtracted elements down the centuries according to what they deemed important, so that 9th and 13th century material mixes indiscriminately; while the researcher interested in earlier periods must guess and backdate, borrowing from other sources as she goes. But it is the best thing we have.

Some of it, moreover, is amusing reading. Among the King's officials is the Serjeant. "It is right for him to stand between the two posts and to watch lest the house should burn while the King is eating, and it is right for him to drink with the officials" -- two contradictory duties, one would think! The Porter, or gate-keeper, the laws say, "is entitled to a handful of every gift that comes through the gate ... berries and eggs and haddock. From every load of firewood that comes through the gate he is entitled to a stick which he can draw out without holding up the horse." The Falconer, among other things, is entitled to "a handsbreadth of wax candle from the Steward so as to feed his birds and make his bed." Furthermore, "on the day that he takes a notable bird" by his falcons "when the King is not at the place, when the falconer brings the bird to the court it is right for the King to rise before him; and if he does not rise ... to give the raiment he is wearing to the falconer." If a falcon belongs to a King, it is worth a pound, but if belongs to a villein, "whether it be a sparrowhawk or a falcon or any bird in the world ... it is of the same value as a hen: it is worth a penny." For of course a King's possessions are more valuable than those of a villein, whatever their quality.

But that's another post.

(Quotations in this article are from The Law of Hywel Dda: Law Texts from Medieval Wales translated and edited by Dafydd Jenkins: Gomer Press, 1990.)