A Short History of Wales

by Sir Owen Morgan Edwards

Between 450 and 500 a stream of pagan Teutons flowed over the east of Britain, and the British Church was separated from the Roman Church. By 664 British and Roman missionaries had converted the English; and the two Churches of Rome and Britain, once united, were face to face again. But they had grown in different ways, and refused to know each other. Their Easter came on different days; they did not baptize in the same way; the tonsure was different—a crescent on the forehead of the British monk, and a crown on the pate of the Roman monk. In the Roman Church there was rigid unity and system; in the British Church there was much room for self-government. The newly converted English chose the Roman way, because they were told that St Peter, whose see Rome was, held the keys of heaven. Between 700 and 800 the Welsh gradually gave up their religious independence, and joined the Roman Church.

But there was another dispute. Were the four old Welsh bishoprics—Bangor, St Asaph, St David’s, Llandaff—to be subject to the English archbishop of Canterbury, or to have an archbishopric of their own at St David’s? By 1200 the Welsh bishoprics were subject to the English archbishop, and Giraldus Cambrensis came too late to save them.

But through all these disputes the Church was gaining strength. Churches were being built everywhere. Up to 700 they were called after the name of their founder; between 700 and 1000 they were generally dedicated to the archangel Michael—there are several Llanvihangels [1] in Wales; after 1000 new churches were dedicated to Mary, the Mother of Christ—we have many Llanvairs. [2]

Times of civil strife, or of popular indifference, came over and over again; and the old paganism tried to reassert itself. And time after time the name of Christ was sounded again by men who thought they had seen Him. In the twelfth century the Cistercian monk came to say that the world was bad, that prayer saved the soul, and that labour was noble. [3] He was followed by the Franciscan friar, who said that deeds of mercy and love should be added to prayer, that Christ had been a poor man, and that men should help each other, not only in saving souls, but in healing sickness and relieving pain. In the fifteenth century the Lollard came to say that the Church was too rich, and that it had become blind to the truth, and Walter Brute said that men were to be justified by faith in Christ, not by the worship of images or by the merit of saints. In the sixteenth century came the Protestant, and the sway of Rome over Wales came to an end; Bishop Morgan translated the Bible into Welsh, and John Penry yearned for the preaching of the Gospel in Wales. The Jesuit followed, calling himself by the name of Jesus, to try to win the country back again to Rome. Robert Jones toiled and schemed, and some laid down their lives. The Puritan came in the seventeenth century to demand simple worship, and Morgan Lloyd thought that the second advent of Christ was at hand. The Revivalist came in the eighteenth century, and, in the name of Christ, aroused the people of Wales to a new life of thought.

After all this, you will be surprised to learn that many of the old gods still remain in Wales, and much of the old pagan worship. Who drops a pin into a sacred well, or leaves a tiny rag on a bush close by, and then wishes for something? A young maiden in the twentieth century, who sacrifices to a well heathen god. Until quite recently men thought that Ffynnon Gybi, and Ffynnon Elian, and Ffynnon Ddwynwen, had in them a power which could curse and bless, ruin and save.

Lud of the Silver Hand was the god of flocks and ships. His caves are in Dyved still, and his was the temple on Ludgate Hill in London. Merlin was a god of knowledge; he could foretell events. Ceridwen was the goddess of wisdom; she distilled wisdom-giving drops in a cauldron. Gwydion created a beautiful girl from flowers, “from red rose, and yellow broom, and white anemony.” I am not quite sure what Coil did, but I have heard children singing the history of “old King Cole.” Olwen also walked through Wales in heathen times, and it is said that three white flowers rose behind her wherever she had put her foot.

V
THE WELSH KINGS

The spirit of Rome remained, though Rome itself had fallen. And Welsh kings rose to take the place of the Roman ruler, trying to force the tribes of Wales—of different races and tongues—to become one people.

The chief Roman ruler, at any rate during the later wars against the invaders, was called Dux Britanniae, “the ruler of Britain.” It became the aim of the ablest kings to restore the power of this officer, and to carry on his work, to rule and defend a united country. And I will tell you briefly how the kings ruled and defended Wales for more than five hundred years—how Maelgwn tried to unite it, how Rhodri tried to prevent the attacks of Saxon and Dane, how Howel gave it laws, and how Griffith tried to defend it against England.

Between 400 and 450 Rome left Wales to look after itself. An able family, called the House of Cunedda, took the power of the Dux Britanniae, and they translated the title into Gwledig—“the ruler of a gwlad (country).” Of this family Maelgwn Gwynedd is the most famous. It was his work to try to unite all the smaller kings or chiefs of Wales under his own power as “the island dragon.” It was a difficult thing to persuade them; they all wanted to be independent. A legend shows that Maelgwn tried guile as well as force. The kings met him at Aberdovey, and they all sat in their royal chairs on the sands. And Maelgwn said: “Let him be king over all who can sit longest on his chair as the tide comes in.” But he had made his own chair of birds’ wings, and it floated erect when all the other chairs had been thrown down. Before Maelgwn died of the yellow plague in 547, his strong arm had made Wales one united country, and had made every corner of it Christian.