II

[1] Bendigeidfran < Bendigeid + Brân  ‘Brân the Blessed’. Brân was a common personal name in medieval Wales, literally meaning ‘Raven’. Animal elements are not unusual within Celtic names (e.g. Bleddrhi ‘Wolf King’ Cynvarch ‘Leading Horse’ etc).

The second element -bendigeid (> Lat benedictus )  is rather more complex. Despite its ecclesiatic origins, this word seems to have been applied to a number of  sub-Roman British kings – including, significantly, Vortimer (Gwythefyr) son of  Vortigern: whom the ninth-century Historia Brittonum describes as being dismembered after his death and having his remains interred strategic points on the channel coast for magical-protective purposes. The fact that the mortal remains of Brân were used in a similar fashion for the magical protection of the Island suggest that the epithet ‘Bendigeid’ may have acquired an older, pre-Christian ritual connotation (see p. ###, n. ## and p. ###). 

[2] Llyr is an ill-defined figure in the Mabinogi – but he is not completely unknown elsewhere within the Welsh tradition. When he is mentioned, it is most usually in conjunction with his epithet Llediath – meaning ‘accented’ of ‘of indistinct speech’. This is the first of many clues to suggest a liminal, bi-lingual identity for the Children of Llyr – a group which seem to have been as well known on the Western side of the Irish sea as they are in Britain. Llyr/Ler is also known in Ireland, as the father of a certain Manannan mac Lir – whose similarities with the Welsh Manawydan mab Llyr are discussed further on.

[3] This is evidently used to signify rulership over the Island as a whole. Other kings understood to have ruled localised areas, but Brân was the ‘High King’ – with nominal authority even over regional hegemonies like that of Deheubarth ruled over by the House of Pwyll (see chapter 1).

The Crown of London might represent the hegemonistic sovereignty exercised by the Sons of Beli Mawr (see pp.########), but for the contemporary audience it would have been hard to disassociate this symbol from the more recent arrival of the Norman kings, whose elaborate coronations took place in Westminster abbey – and who were in the process of extending their power over from a powerbase in the South and East of the Island, just as had the Belgic dynasts some thousand years before.

[4] (G)weilgi ‘the ocean’ ‘the deep’. D.S.Thomson notes (p. 19-20) that this obscure poetic word for the sea appears to be cognate with the Old Irish fáelchú ‘wolf’, and sometimes implies a turbulent or stormy sea. In the Second Branch, however, it is used consistently and generally for any body of maritime water.

[5] The connection between this character and the Irish Manannan Mac Lir is discussed in on p###

[6] Euroswyd = ‘Golden Enemy’. Like the name of Gwawl vab Clud (pp ### n.###) this name has connotations of wealth and material power, as well as a specific demographic association. While even the telescoped perspective of tribal historic lore would have recognised that Saxons would have not yet been present in Britain at this time – the name Euroswyd nonetheless has a rather Germanic ring to it – not least because of Welsh rendering of their seventh century  Northumbrian adversary Oswiu/Oswy as Oswyd. Just as Gwawl might be seen to represent all that was hateful about the sub-Roman mercenary culture of the North, Euroswydd might have been readily conceived by the Medieval Welsh imagination as a kind of proto-Saxon: whose presence and activities in the Island were a sinister precursor of oppressions of the English race.

Triad 52 describes Llyr Llediath as one of the Tri Goruchel Garcharwr Ynys Brydein ‘Three Exalted Prisoners of the Isle of Britain … who was imprisoned by Euroswydd’. The implication is of some degree of dynastic upheaval in the previous generation, which has been partly compensated by the succession of Bendigeidfran. The presence of the sons of Euroswydd carries in itself both the reminder of this instability, and the threat of its re-emergence in the future.

[7] Beli Mawr of the genealogical tradition (see p.###-###)

[8] The possible typological relationship between these two and Bleddyn and Rhiwallon, Gruffydd ap Llewelyn’s half brother, is discussed on p.### below.

[9] Professor Thomas Charles-Edwards suggested this southerly provenance of the Irish fleet is reminiscent of the political geography of Ireland prior to 1116, before the shift of political power  from the Dal Caís of  Mumu to the Connachta-based descendents of Brian Borúma.

It might also be argued that this opening section of the narrative is drawing upon the North/South, Above/Below Celtic psycho-geographic matrix. This is further enforced by the (Northern-based) British king addressing the Irish King from the Rock of Harddlech ‘high above’.

The connection between the Irish element and Southern-centred Indigenous Underworld is apparent elsewhere throughout the Mabinogi (see pp.. ###, ###, ###).

[10] Kyweirach the equative form of the adjective kyweir (see p.###)

[11] Ymgyuathrachu < ym-cyf-athr-ach-u D.S. Thomson suggests (p.22) this otherwise unattested word ‘implies the uniting of two families by marriage’.  A. Welsh (####, p.###) quotes the historian Morfydd Owen, who suggests of this passage that it contains ‘the most explicit expression in Welsh literature of the idea that he role of the wife is that of a link between kins, a peace-weaver, the friđstofe [sic], a role which is a familiar one for the heroines of Germanic and Anglo-Saxon saga.

[12] Ynys Y Kedeirn ‘Island of the Strong Ones’ A bardic epithet for Britain.

[13] Sef a gahat yn y kynghor lit. ‘this is what was obtained in the council’

[14] ‘Prif Rieni’ the meaning of this appallation is unclear – but it would denote an unusually exalted rank in the Celtic social order. It was probably attached to women within the royal kindred whose male offspring would be eligible for the High Kingship of the island.

[15] A gwneuthur oed yn Aberffraw y gyscu genti lit. ‘An appointment was made in Aberffraw for him to sleep with her’

Aberffraw was the principal court of Gwynedd from the 6^th to the 13^th centuries. It is not inconsistent with the general geo-political outlook of the Four Branches that this should be seen as the natural powerbase in Wales for a pan-Brythonic king.

[16]  Eisted ‘gathering’ lit. ‘the sitting’ (cf. Eisteddfodd – ‘sitting place’) - signifying a social occasion involving food, drink and relaxed conversation. Interestingly, the word is also used for ‘a beseigement’.

[17] This comment has usually been interpreted to as a comment on Bendigeidfran’s giant-like stature. Indeed there are moments in the narrative when Bendigeidfran appears to swell to larger-than-life proportions, such as when he leads the hosts of the Island of the Mighty across the Irish Sea (p ####-####). However, for the majority of the narrative Bendigeidfran behaves and interacts with other people on an ordinary scale. This paradox has been noted by previous commentators on the Second Branch (######################). It seems more likely, however, what the author is suggesting at this point is that the retinue of Bendigeidfran was so large there had never been a house large enough to contain it. If we are to  accept the Belgic origin of Bendigeidfran as Brennos – the leader of the great host responsible for the Sack of Delphi in 279 BC – this would be a fitting assignation. It would seem that the person of Bendigeidfran had a mystical identification with his war-host. Just as the host was considered an extenion of Bendigedfran’s will, he would also have been seen as an embodiment its group-mind. More of this occult aspect of the Romano-Belgic military tradition is discussed on pp. ####### below.

[18] The phrase ‘the quarrelsome man we spoke of above’ (gwr anagneuedus a dywedassam uchot) is a strong suggestion that the Mabinogi was composed, self-consciously, as a literary work – to be read and enjoyed as such. Such a reference would make no sense in a purely oral context.

[19] Efnisien is a study in the psychopathic personality. The rage here is calculated, as is the horrific orgy of violence that follows. His actions are deliberately staged to inflict the most profound damage to the weak points of the social fabric around him – in this case relations with the men of Ireland. While he is in some ways an embodiment of the forces of anti-social disruption the author is targeting throughout the Mabinogi – there is also the hint complex inner life, which finds a poignant expression in his final demise.

A close parallel to this incident has been identified by Alaric Hall (CMCS 42 p. in this section of the Hrolfsaga Kraka, which (like the second Branch) occurs within the context of an intermarriage between two feuding families. On the approach to his new step-father’s hall, the eponymous hero’s servant demands that his master’s horses should be ‘tended well’, and their ‘coats should not be jerked, nor their forelocks nor their tails’. At this, their evil-minded host erupts:

‘This is the greatest of their arrogance and pride … hack off their tail-stumps where they meet the rump and cut off their forelocks, so that the skin of their forehead comes off these, and play thenceforth the most mockingly in all your ability, except that you will only allow them to live.’

Whether this correspondence suggests the direct influence of the Dark Age Scandinavian culture in Wales, or merely a common inheritance from the pre-Christian, Heroic Age traditions is an open question. It may well be, given other evident parallels between the Second Branch and the Illiad and the Volsung cycle – that many if not all of these correspondences might be explained in terms of derivation from a common, Indo-European narrative epic (now lost): involving the motifs of (deliberately engineered) strife between kindreds, in which a ritual horse-mutilation sequence might have played an instrumental role.

Hall suggests that Efnisien fits the character type of the ‘Óđinn hero’ of the Germanic tradition: being preoccupied with the deliberate perpetuation of war and strife as an end in itself, rejecting the Christian moral code in favour of an older, tribal warrior ethos.

For the functional significance of this episode from a synchronic perspective see pp.###-### below.

[20] The mutilation of Matholwch’s horses was intended to wreck humiliation on the Irish king, and trigger a cycle of recrimination. As subsequent events prove, this strategy proves devastatingly successful.

Beyond this, the recurrent equine imagery of the 1^st Branch is being deliberately recalled. The horse, as we have seen, was symbolic of the Sovereignty Goddess in the pre-Christian tradition (see pp ##### above). The subsequent fate endured by Branwen is therefore reminiscent of the penance of Rhiannon. This dovetailing of symbolism between Branches is discussed below on p.###-###

[21] Cwbyl waradwyd a geueis  lit. ‘a total insult have I got’

[22] Here it is confirmed that Llyr, the father of Bendigeidfran, Branwen and Manawydan had himself at one stage held the High Kingship of Britain (or the ‘Isle of the Mighty’ as it is called here).

 A certain King Lear is also present in Geoffrey’s Historia. As in the Shakespearean play of that name, this King Lear is represented as the recipient of disingenuous flattery from his eldest two daughters, Goneril and Regan: while misinterpreting the faithful sincerity of the youngest (Cordelia), whom he sends into unjustified exile. While this legend is based on a narrative scenario found throughout the human world* , there is no reason to assume that such a tradition was not in circulation in the Brythonic world at the time of Geoffrey’s composition – and that his King Lear is based, in name at least, on this significant figure from the Welsh tribal-historical tradition.

[23] Matholwch comes across in the Second Branch as a somewhat weak, depressive character: given to verbose brooding on his own misfortunes. His reaction here is one of self-pity and bewilderment. This characterisation is important: as it qualifies his subsequent capitulation when confronted with the primitive and vengeful emotions of the mob at other junctures in the Second Branch.

[24] In Celtic cultures, there was a strong ethic of hospitality. The larger the crowd a chieftain was able to feed and entertain, the greater his prestige. Furthermore, the duty of hospitality also extended to the physical protection of the guest. As Bendigeidfran’s messengers point out – any injury done to a guest of the king, is an injury and slight to the honour of the king himself.

[25] Ac eissos ni eill ef uy niwaradwydaw i o hynny  lit. ‘but he will never be able to dis-insult me from that’

[26] This is a consistent with medieval Welsh tribal law. The honour price (see p#####) of the ‘King of Aberffraw’ was set at ‘100 cows from every cantref in his lordship, and a golden rod as tall as himself and as thick as his little finger, together with a golden platter as brad as his face, and as thick as the nail of a husbandman of seven years standing’. Variants on this are found in the Demetian and the Gwentian code – suggesting it was the traditional base-rate of compensation for a regional king.

[27] More will be said further on about the Peir Dadeni – The Cauldron of Rebirth – which plays a critical role on the magical-symbolic level of the text. It relates on one hand to the Pair Pen Annwfyn dicussed in Chapter 2 (p####) and other vivifying cauldrons of Celtic myth, and on the other to the Holy Grail or San Graal of Arthurian myth. In terms of the internal symbolic idiom developed within the Mabinogi, it also fulfills as similar role to the magical bag of Rhiannon, the chest in which Gwydion ‘incubates’ the infant Lleu in the fourth branch and other enclosing, womb-like receptacles.

Here, it is worth noting, the cauldron plays a similar role Andvarr’s ring in the Völsunga Saga – which is used to complement the ‘otter payment’ made to the Hreidmar and his sons, Fafnir and Regin. Although there is no precise analogue to this incident in Das Niebelungleid (Wagner’s Medieval German source) there are number other parallels between this body of Germanic traditional lore and the Mabinogi – some of which may share a common (Romano-Belgic) origin in legends surrounding the Gold of Toulouse (see p ###-### above)

[28] ‘Payment of Horses’. This small piece of folk-etymology is entirely characteristic of the Celtic narrative tradition. An essential part of the bardic art was the explanation of the names of places, and the relation of these explanatory ancedotes into a broader mythic context.

[29] Mac Cana (#############) has drawn attention to the Irish origins of this story, coming (appropriately enough) from the mouth of the Irish King. Nonetheless, the ‘Iron House’ episode, as it is known, incorporates a number of the broader themes and motifs developed elsewhere in the Mabinogi – and should be understood in this context as well.

The hulking figures emerging from the lake are clearly of supernatural origin – and belong to a well-established Celtic tradition of Otherworld entities of water monsters and lake fairies: and magical realms accessed via an entrance under a pool or under the sea. The evidence of metalwork, coins and other riches seemingly ritually deposited in lakes throughout the Celtic world suggests that there may have been an Iron Age religious tradition underlying this belief.

Matholwch’s position ‘on top of a tumulus’, at the moment of their appearance, also recalls the megalithic background of the Indigenous Underworld. The misshapen aspect of these figures as well as their evident fecundity and possession of a magical cauldron also brings them into close association with the Pen Annwfn cauldron god archetype discussed in Chapter 2 (see p.#### above).

[30] Anorles The meaning of this word is unclear. D.S Thomson suggests ‘unsightly’. P.K Ford offers ‘uncompromising’ – though the etymological basis for either of these speculations is unclear. Thomas Jones suggested an emendation to anorlas – another unattested word, but one which could be analysed as an-gor-llos ‘brigand’ ‘warrior’. Jones thus translates drygweith anorles as ‘the evil look of a brigand’

[31] The boorish behaviour of Matholwch’s supernatural guests presents a dilemma familiar by its recurrance throughout the Mabinogi: that is the discontent amongst the nobility of the land which forces the king to act – sometimes against his will. We see this situation occur at various  numerous intervals throughout the Mabinogi of Pwyll – notably in the whispering campaign directed against Rhiannon for her apparent infertility – and also later in this branch where the undeserving Branwen is the recipient of a similarly xenophobic animus. Here, it will be noted, the popular grievance is more substantial and justified. Here

[32] Gruffydd (###############) draws attention to numerous examples (both medieval and modern) which add up to a tradition suggesting the aversion of faery-folk to iron – which adds weight to the theory that a significant constituent of the myth of the faery people comes from a Bronze/Iron Age folk memory of an indigenous Neolithic race. Whether or  not this is the case: there are numerous stories throughout rural Wales of a local man who marries a mysterious lady (who often emerges from a lake), and enjoys many years of wealth and domestic fulfilment – until he breaks a taboo by (accidentally) striking the woman with an iron object (the ‘Grievous Blow’ motif – see p#####). In one case, such as the story recorded in the Llanfrothen area of Merionethshire – the off-spring of this union were the red-haired, long-nosed ‘Wild Red Men of Mawddy’ – who perpetrated acts of brigandry throughout the countryside of 11^th  century Wales.

More pertinent perhaps, than the faery-averting properties of iron – was the fact that like the Bag of Rhiannon, in the First Branch, the iron house was employed as an enclosing object used to vanquish an otherwise intractable enemy. This motif is repeated almost to the obsession throughout the Mabinogi. We will explore its possible significance later on in this study (##########).

[33] A phan wybuwyt eu medwi wynteu  ‘and when their drunkedness was known’

[34] Part of the point of this story – as well as to qualify the Otherworld significance of the Cauldron of Rebirth – is to draw attention the differences in style between the governance of Matholwch and Bendigeidfran respectively. As has been already suggested, Matholwch is consistently characterised as a rather morose, weak and reactive individual. In this episode he displays little or no control: either over his Otherworldly guests or his native peers. It is only in response to the latter that any action is taken against the depredations of the People of the Lake: and then (it is implicitly suggested) the action taken is disproportionate and peculiarly cruel. Bendigeidfran, however, as a strong and just king, is able to integrate this element into his kingdom – where they become a positive asset, rather than a menace. In this way, the historic presence of the Irish in Wales is accounted for (see p##, #### and ####).

[35] a uei arbennic y welet yn mynet e ymdeith  lit. ‘which would be matchless to see going away’. This slightly convoluted sentence suggests as ritual process similar to that described on p. ###, n## above. This heightens the association between Rhiannon and Branwen, in their common role as foreign princess as is further discussed on p. ###-### below.

[36] Gwern = “Alder”. For a discussion on the possible significance of this name, see p. ### below

[37] The persecution suffered by Branwen has been linked to the ‘Calumniated Wife’ tale-type: a plot-structure identified by folklorists as common to a wide range of narrative traditions. Significant here is the parallelism between the fate of Branwen, and that of Rhiannon in the previous branch (p. #####, n##). It has been pointed out that both women “share the experience of persecution after marriage” and that “ultimately their persecution stems from the fact that these women are foreigners, intruders as it were, into a world which will not readily accept them”. As with Pwyll and Rhiannon, it is the foster brothers – that most intimate and coercive of peer influences (p.###) – who provide the most vocal hostility to the foreign queen and, through her, to their adopted kinsmen.

 Interestingly, the punishment of Branwen is causally associated with the maiming of the horses, which as has already been suggested – builds a further esoteric relationship between the two abused wives and the Celtic mythological archetype of the Lady of the Horse discussed in the previous chapter. The degrading ‘penance’ of Rhiannon (p####), Efnisien’s mutilation of the Irish horses and Branwen’s daily beating at the hands of the blood-stained butcher all recall the primitive roots of the pagan cult involved (p #### ). This is further discussed on p. #### below

The striking of Branwen is referred to in the 53^rd triad: ‘The Three Harmful Blows of the Island of Britain’. At least one of the other two Harmful Blows (the striking of Gwenhwyfar) is seen as the catalyst for an epoch-marking battle, which brings an end to a historically-significant regime (the Battle of Camlan) 

[38] Disykynyssant < dyskynnu  ‘descend’ ‘settle’ ‘alight’. It is possibly significant that the same verb is used to describe the rather tentative decision-making process of the Irish council, and the movements of the starling towards the end of the following paragraph  (p. ### below).

[39] A menegei y’r ederyn y ryw wr oed y brawt  lit: “told the bird the kind of man her brother was”

[40] Ac yna kymryt llwythyr a’y edrych lit. ‘and then the taking of the letter and its looking’

[41] bot y poen a oed ar y chwaer lit. ‘the being of the punishment which was upon his sister’

[42] ‘Twysogian’ ‘overlords’ ‘stewards’ ‘noblemen’ ‘princes’. Twysog designates a rank in the Celtic world (= Gaelic taosoich) which is imbued with significant authority, but is always understood to be subordinate to, or a proxy for the king. I have used the term ‘elder’ (c.f. Anglo-Saxon ealdorman) to evoke the proto-feudal  social world involved.

[43] This may reflect the memory of a traditional partition of Britain from the Iron Age period (which might be compared with the sevenfold partition of Pictish Scotland (#######), and the ‘28 cities’ listed in Historia Brittonum (#######)

[44] The Seven Riders themselves, with their rather colourful epithets, sound more like folktale characters than tutelary or ancestral figures with specific tribal associations. The exception to this is Pendaran Dyfed, who might be seen as a representation of the men of the south – who, it is noted, is given a somewhat junior role in relation to the others. This continues a theme which runs throughout the Mabinogi – which recognises the South as a distinct and partially independent cultural bloc – but one which is essentially subordinate to the royal houses of the North, with their implicit link to the sovereignty of the Island as a whole.

[45] Ac yna y kerdwys ef ac a oed a gerd arwest y geuyn e hun a chyrchu tir Iwerdon lit. ‘and then he advanced with what there was of string minstelsy on his back’

The peculiarity of this image, as well as its alliterating qualities – suggest it may (like the ‘dogs of Gwern’ sequence discussed below) belong to an older, pre-existing bardic tradition, which the author felt obliged to include for the sake of completeness. The idea of a king carrying minstrelsy one his back maybe a metaphor for patronage of the musical arts. If this is the case, it lends further substance to the case that the notion of Brân’s gigantic proportions were primarily an expression of his symbolic role as the personal embodiment of the tribal group identity

[46] As well as the word-play linking the ‘forest on the ocean’ with the ‘sail-trees’ of the ships, there is also a further pun linking the term for mast (gwernenni) and the name of Branwen and Matholwch’s son Gwern  (who was evidently a more significant figure in the older bardic tradtion than his brief appearance in the Second Branch would tend to suggest p.### ff.).

[47] This sequence, involving the interpretation of a distant and terrifying vision by a third party is known as ‘The Watchman Device’, a motif which is particularly popular in Medieval Irish Literature. MacCana (#######) identifies a close parallel in the eleventh century Togail Bruide Da Derga which he believes may be the direct inspiration for this passage in the Second Branch.

Whether or not this is the case, the surreal, animistic imagery of the ‘forest on the ocean’ and the ‘walking mountain’ plays an important role in the Medieval Welsh bardic tradition in its own right. As well as evoking the menace of the approaching army, the giant-like proportion of the British warlord may have a metaphorical relationship with the notion of the martial-tribal group mind (this possibility is further discussed on page ### below). Other references to Bendigeidfran’s great size in the Second Branch (see n.### and n.###) that it is in his capacity as the embodiment of the people as a whole that ‘no building can contain him’ or he ‘carried the string minstrelsy on his back’ (patronage).

The bardic tradition of Cad Goddeu is possibly also being recalled at this stage (see p.### below). The elemental nature of this representation of the Assembly of Brân suggest that army and its leader are being likened to the very landscape itself, rising up to avenge the Princess Branwen. With Brân as an embodiment of the land itself, as well as its people, addition meaning is given to the dyf y rwyng deu llen of the Four Branch, as we shall see (p.###. n.####).

[48] mein sugyn  lit. ‘sucking stones’. This motif may be related to an incident in the Sack of Delphi, in which a large number of Brennus’ host drowned in the mud of a swamp near Thermapylae (Pausalinias xxi 2-3). See note ## below.

[49] A vo penn bit pont ‘Whoever would be chief , let him be the bridge’. The choice of words penn (‘head’ ‘leader’) is particularly interesting, in the light of subsequent events (see p.###, n###).

[50] J.T. Koch draws attention to the similarity between this incident, and an episode in the Sacking of Delphi (see p.####) as reported by Pausalinias (x.20 5-8):

When the Greeks… learnt that the army of Gauls was already in the neighbourhood of Magnesia and Phthios.. [they] broke down the bridges [over the River Sperchieus]… But Brennos himself was not utterly stupid, even for a barbarian, in devising tricks of strategy. So on that very night he dispatched some troops to Sperchieus, not ot the places where the old bridges had stood, but lower down, where the Greeks would not notice the crossing, and just where the river spread over the plain and made a marsh and a lake instead of a violent stream. Hither Brennos sent some ten thousand Gauls, picking out the swimmers and the tallest men… So these crossed that very night… the tallest of them able to cross by wading.. Brennus ordered the dwellers around the Malian gulf to build bridges across the Spercheius.

 

See pp. ### where the magical significance of this episode is discussed

[51] O hyn hyt ban del amgen  lit. ‘until [something] different comes’

[52] gwra  < gwrha  related to the notion of clientship (gwrogaeth). See p. ###, n. ###.

[53] Saunders Lewis compares this development with an incident recorded in Henry II’s 1172 invasion of Ireland (which included substantial Welsh participation). English accounts record how a great house was built by the Irish for the king while he was wintering in Dublin (Saunders Lewis 19##, p.###). If we can accept a post 1172-date for the composition of the Mabinogi, it would be entirely consistent with the typological outlook of the medieval bardic author to draw such parallels between these two invasions, and these two ‘Great Houses’, built for a conquering king from the other side of the Irish Sea. Thomas Charles-Edwards questions this, suggesting that the Mabinogi is more likely to have been composed in the earlier part of the twelfth century, and that the building of a house for a conquering king was a traditional Gaelic gesture of submission.

Sims-Williams provides a counterpoint to both these positions, suggesting that the ‘Great House’ motif should be seen in the context of the motif of ‘containment’ found throughout the Mabinogi, especially in the Second Branch. The most obvious parallel is the Iron House episode (p.###, n###), but the Cauldron of Rebirth, Rhiannon’s bag,  Manawydan’s glove and Gwydion’s chest in the Fourth Branch can all be related to this function of containment, which as we have already suggested, can be seen to carry strong associations with the womb-like capacity of the feminine. We will explore this question at greater length on p.###-### below.

[54] …ac rac llyygru y wlat oed genti hitheu hynny lit. ‘and against damage to the country was that to her’. Here Branwen is playing the role of the Peaceweaver in its most imminent sense.

[55] Ystryw lit. ‘plan’ ‘ruse’. In the Peniarth 6 fragment of the Mabinogi (which predates the White Book version) we find the archaic spelling stryw, which used to be taken (Williams, PKM, p. ###) as an indicator of the pre-Norman origins of the Four Branches. More recently, it has been noted by Thomas-Edwards (p. ###), Hamp (p.###) and others that orthographic archaisms of this kind persist for a number of reasons, and may do not form a definitive dating criterion in themselves.

[56] boly = ‘cavity’ ‘swelling’ ‘bulge’ ‘hide or leather bag’ The womb-like properties of these ‘skin bags’ are emphasised, adding additional horror to the events that follow, and further qualifying the motif of containment developed throughout the Second Branch. The words of Llaser Llaes Gyfnewid are being recalled at this juncture: “…this woman, at the end of a month and a fortnight will become pregnant: and the boy that will be born from that wombful – after a month and fortnight -  will be a fully armed fighting man.”. For a fuller discussion of this complex of ‘containment’ images see pp. ###-### and ###.

[57] eneit = lit ‘soul’ a term of cordiality/affection for another, usually translated here as ‘friend’. The literal meaning of this word is worth bearing in mind when considering the possible metaphysical implications of this act.

[58] Once again, the sadistic violence of Efnisien is described, but no comment is supplied. Aside from the physical horror of the atrocity itself,  this may have been a profoundly malignant magical act, similar to the degradation of Gwawl in the First Branch. This is more fully discussed in the concluding section of this chapter (p.###).

[59] A three-line epigrammatic verse, popular in the Welsh poetic tradition

[60] dikenneit yn trin ‘descenders to the grind’. In Modern Welsh trin has two meanings: the first ‘to chide’ or ‘to treat’ (i.e. a process of nuturing/refinement), and the second – a noun meaning ‘battle’. Efnisiyen is probably punning on these two meanings: likening the descent of warriors into the melee of war with the grinding of corn-seeds in the mill. This would reinforce the suggestion of the possible magical significance of this episode (see. p###)

[61] …kydwyr cadbarawt lit. ‘fighting men ready for the fight’

[62] …a phawb o’r a’e guelei yn y garu lit. ‘and all of those who saw him in his love’. Ford suggests ‘and all who saw him loved him’

[63] This ‘Fight in a Great House’ sequence is a commonplace within both the Celtic and the Germanic traditions: from the slaughter of Finnsburgh Hall in Beowulf, to the riotous mayhem in the HousHouse of Mac Da Tho. Undoubtedly, such accounts were based to some extent on the violent realities of Heroic Age life (see p. ### above). But there is also a discernable tradition – based around the complex of what Andrew Welsh calls the ‘Tragic Peaceweaver Tale’ which would seem to underlie a number of these accounts (p.###-###). As we have already suggested, elements such as the horse-mutilation, and ‘bird-as-messenger’ may well have been part of the assemblage of this Indo-European tale, even if these motifs were simultaneously interwoven with the Horse Goddess complex of the First Branch (p. ###-###).

[64] The source of this peculiar interjection would appear to be an old  bardic tradition, also referenced in lines 26-27 of the 10^th/11^th century poem from the Book of Taliesin:

I was with Brân in Ireland

I saw where Mordwyt Tyllon was slain..

Mordwyt Tyllion literally means ‘pierced thigh’ – and has been taken by some commentators to refer to Bendigeidfran himself, who is wounded in the leg with a poisoned spear. Others have suggested that this wound links Bran with the Fisher King of the later Arthurian tradition (p. ####).

It seems most likely that the significance of Gwern was more pronounced in this bardic tradition. The place of the alder (gwern) was prominent in Cad Goddeu (‘The Battle of the Trees’), and a later bardic riddle identified Bran by ‘the high sprigs of Alder’ in his hand’. This riddle, and the Battle of the Trees lies close to the esoteric core of the Mabinogi as a whole, and is discussed more fully on p.### below.

[65] yn rith Gwydel lit. ‘in the guise of an Irishman’

[66] Ac o hynny y bu y meint goruot a uu wyr Ynys y Kedyrn lit. ‘and from that was such victory as there was to the men of the Isle of the Mighty

[67] The word goruot – meaning ‘survival’ as well as ‘victory’ is used here, underlying the pyrrhic  nature of the victory.]

[68] The tradition of Seven Survivors is also found in the aforementioned poem of Preiddeu Annwfn (c.f. p.###-###, p.### etc), which (like other works of the ‘School of Taliesin’) was heavily referenced by the author of the Mabinogi. The full text of this and other relevant poems from the Book of Taliesin is discussed on p.###.

[69] The death of Branwen has both linguistic and structural parallels to that of Efnisien (see p. ###, n ###). Both (like Cradog below) die of a ‘broken heart’. In the process of dying, Efnisien breaks the Cauldron of Rebirth ‘into four pieces’ (yn pedwar dryll), while Branwen is buried in a ‘four-sided grave’ (bed petrual). This symbolism, and its possible figurative significance, is considered on p.###.

[70] This figure is usually identified with Cassivelaunos, who led a hegemony of British Celtic tribes against the armies of Julius Caesar in 54/55 BC (see pp. ##, ### ff. above)

[71] This Cradawg may be identical with Caractācos, the first century leader of the British Celtic resistance against the Claudian invasion of 45 AD. Caractācos may indeed have been a kinsman of Cassivelaunos, although they are unlikely to have been contemporaries. After taking refuge amongst the Silures (the possible origin of the tradition of a friendship between the dynasty of Llyr and the South Walian Pryderi), Caractācos was eventually betrayed by Cartimandua of the Brigantes. The folk-memory of this betrayal – which signalled the end of independent, Celtic Britain – may have been being indirectly recalled in this medieval story, but the correspondences are too vague and symbolic to form any solid conclusion.

[72] It has already been suggested that Pendaran Dyfed may have been a tutelary figure, associated with an indigenous tribal element in South-West Wales. Local folk-belief may have associated him with the forests and wilderness places in that area, and his flight to the woods at this juncture may have been a rationalisation of this tradition.

[73] Eisted lit. ‘a sitting’ ‘a session’. See n. ### above

[74] Emendation supplied by Sir Ifor Williams

[75] These are evidently ‘The Birds of Rhiannon’ (Adar Rhiannon) referred to Bendigeidfran above (p.###, n.###). These birds are described in Culhwch ac Olwen as being able ‘to wake the dead, and send the living to sleep’. Their appearance at this juncture is not explained, though it may be related to the presence of Pryderi among the Seven Survivors. The relationship between these birds and the Head of Brân is considered on p.### below.

Ross (p. 404 ff) notes a traditional association between horses and birds in pre-Christian Celtic iconography.

[76] The seven year feast (with the distortions of time and space so characteristic of the Island Otherworld tradition) takes place at no more exotic location than Harlech in Ardudwy, where the action of the Second Branch began. The existence of two separate feasts – which are in many ways doublets of one another – suggests the prior existence of two separate (but similar) traditions which the bardic author was attempting to synthesise.

[77] It has been suggested that this might be identified with the small island known today as Grassholm,  off the South West Coast of Wales. Aber Henvelen is probably the Bristol Channel (DS Thompson p.38)

[78] Ac yno yd oed udunt lle teg brenhineid  lit. ‘and there there was to them a fair and kingly place’

[79] …ny doy gof udunt wy dim lit. ‘there came no memory [of it] to them’

[80]  …hyt na wybuant wy eiryoet dwyn yspeit digriuach na hyurydach no honno lit. ‘so that they had never known the spending of a time more carefree or light-hearted than that’

[81] Nyt oed anesmwythach, nac adnabot o un ar y gilyd y uot yn hynny amser, no fan doethan yno  lit. ‘It was not more irksome, nor [was there] realisation of anyone on his companion that it was that [much] of time’. This sentence may be corrupt, as its syntax appears to broken by the second clause. (Thomson p.39). The general sense would appear to be that among the company of the Wondrous Head the effects of aging and/or wearying of one another’s company appear to be in temporary abeyance.

[82] Urdaul benn  The precise meaning of these words is not clear, although it almost certainly relates to the Living Head archetype magico-religious complex outlined above (pp. ###-###). The following interpretations of urdaul have been offered (Thomson, pp. 39-40):

1.        a misspelling of uthrawl = ‘wondrous’ ‘terrible’ (cf. Mod. Welsh  uthr  ‘awful’ ‘awesome’, Uthyr Pendragon)

2.        an adjective deriving from urdd meaing ‘series or row’. Perhaps referring to the successive feasts described in the Second Branch

3.        a mutation of guirdaul, an Old Welsh spelling of gwyrthriol ‘miraculous’

4.        a misspelling of urddasol ‘honourable’ ‘noble’

[83] A phan edrychwys, yd oed yn gyn hyspysset ganthunt y gyniuer collet a gollyssant eiryoet, a’r gyniuer car a chedymdeith a gollyssynt, a’r gyniuer drwc a dothoed udunt, a chyt bei yno y kyuarffei ac wynt; ac yn benhaf oll am eu harglywyd lit. ‘And when he looked, it was a clear to them as many losses as they had ever lost, as many loved ones and companions they had lost, and as many bad things as had happened to them – as if [all these things] were approaching them there – and most of all the loss of their king.’

[84] This is an example of apotropaic magic: aimed at protecting the island from evil or bad luck. It might be compared with the ritual burial of the Dark Age British hero Vortimer, as described in the ninth-century Historia Brittonum:

Before his dicease, anxious for the fututre prosperity of his country, he charged his friends to inter his body at the entrance of the Saxon port, viz. upon the rock where the Saxons first landed; ‘for though,’ said he ‘they may inhabit other parts of Britain, yet if you follow my commands, they will never remain in this island.’

It is possibly significant, as suggested above on p. ### n ##, that Vortimer (= MW Gwythyfyr) shares the same epithet (bendigeit ‘Blessed’) as Brân. Despite the Latin/Christian origins of this term, it seems likely that some form of Romano-British (pagan) magical thinking is involved with this cult of apotrpaic relics.