Not one of the old Irish saints was canonised, not even S. Patrick. None of the Welsh saints have been canonised except S. David.
Canonisation is of comparatively recent introduction. Originally the names of the dead, good and moderately good, were read out by the priest at the altar. Then the bishops took it on them to decide what names were to be read. Next the metropolitans claimed to determine this; and lastly, the sole right to canonise, that is to say, to include a name in the canon of the Mass was reserved to themselves by the popes.
Bardsey is not very easy of access, as a strong current runs between it and the mainland. A boat has to be taken at Aberdaron, but now it is best to go by steamer, which occasionally takes an excursion party from Pwllheli.
Another isle is that of S. Tudwal. To this a Roman Catholic priest retired a few years ago, and lived there the life of a solitary. It would seem to have been part of the pre-Celtic religion to believe in a spirit-land beyond the waters of the west; and this belief was taken up by Brython and Goidel alike. They looked west and saw the sun go down in a blaze of glory into the sea. Whither went it? What mysterious land did it go to illumine? Hy Brasil the Irish call the wondrous land to the present day, and the fishermen on the Galway and Clare coast imagine that at times they can see it above the rim of the ocean.
This it was which induced the Celtic saints to hasten, as death approached, to some isle that commanded an unbroken view of the sea to the sunset; they could die in peace looking over the waste of waters to the land of delight whither angels would transport their souls. That was the true Avallon to which the mysterious barge conveyed King Arthur—
“Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow,
Nor ever wind blows loudly; but it lies
Deep-meadow’d, happy, fair with orchard-lawns
And bowery hollows crown’d with summer sea,
Where I shall heal me of my grievous wound.”
It was in quest of this land that Brendan, the Navigator, set forth on his seven years’ voyage; and Madog, the Welshman, sailed in quest of it, when life at home became too troubled for his peace-loving spirit.
Dafydd ab Owen Gwynedd had obtained the throne in 1171 by killing his brother Hywel, but fearing every kinsman lest he should become a rival, he set himself to pick quarrels with his surviving brothers and cousins on one plea or other, and to crush or expel them.
Madog is described by the poet Llywarch ab Llewelyn as “the placid one.” He was a brother of the ambitious and unscrupulous Dafydd. He embarked with a picked crew of faithful followers in Cardigan Bay, and in the year 1170 started on an exploring excursion to the far west, far beyond Ireland, “in trouble great and immeasurable.”
Dafydd was alarmed; he feared that his brother had gone to obtain assistance in Ireland, and knowing that the bard, Llywarch, was his intimate friend, he tortured him with hot irons to wring from him the secret as to whither and for what purpose Madog had departed. Llywarch composed a poem whilst undergoing the ordeal, which is extant.