Sunday, September 9, 2018

COMING SOON: The Location of the 'Rotwyd Arderydd' in the Merlin Story

Arthuret, Cumbria, England

A new etymology I'm proposing for the place-name Arthuret will confirm that the famous Dark Age battle of Arderydd took place in this location.  

Thursday, September 6, 2018

THE GRAVE OF MYRDDIN/MERLIN

The Clochmabenstane, Photo Courtesy Anne Bowker

"So as sir Bagdemagus rode to se many adventures, so hit happed hym to com to the roche thereas the Lady of the Lake had put Merlyon undir the stone, and there he herde hym make a grete dole; wherefore sir Bagdemagus wolde have holpyn hym, and wente unto the grete stone, and hit was so hevy that an hondred men myght nat lyffte hit up.  When Merlyon wyste that he was there, he bade hym leve his laboure, for all was in vayne; for he might never be holpyn but by her that put hym there."

Sir Thomas Malory’s Le Morte D’Arthur (Winchester MS., Book IV, Chapter V)

I've elsewhere written quite a bit on the probable location of Myrddin's/Merlin's grave.  The most salient conversation on that topic can be found in the following link.  However, I have excerpted that and pasted it below for the convenience of my readers.

http://mistshadows.blogspot.com/2018/02/ive-been-asked-to-post-my-study-on.html

But why Drumelzier at all?  If I am right and the sacrifice of Merlin at the hands of Meldred’s shepherds is merely a story invented to both Christianize him and provide him with a death-tale (the actual nature  of his madness being misunderstood), why was this location on the Tweed chosen?

I’m convinced the answers lies in a relocation.  In Liddesdale, at Newcastleton, the Tweeden Burn empties into the Liddel Water.

Early forms of this stream-name include Tueeden (Blaeu/Pont map 1654), Tweden (1541, 1580), Tweden (1583), Tueden (1599), Twyden (1841).  However, a spelling even closer to that of Tweed is also known:

http://www.astro.ubc.ca/people/scott/book.pdf

"Tweeden (twee-din) n. former seat of the Armstrongs, just to the east of Newcastleton. ‘Young Ector Armstrng’ was there in 1541, when he reset some other Armstrongs, referred to as English rebels. It is recorded as ‘Twyde’ on a map of Liddesdale drawn up by Sir William Cecil, c.1561. Ringan, Hector and Jock of Tweeden are recorded in 1583 and Ninian of Tweeden in 1606. William and John Armstrong ‘of Tueden’ are recorded in 1611. ‘Johne Armstrang, callit of Tueden’ is recorded in 1622 and Francie ‘callit Tueden’ in 1623. It may be the same place that is on the list of parts of the Lordship of Liddesdale in 1632 as ‘Helene Tweidmes lands’. In the same document is recorded the farm of ‘Megie Twedmes’, whose meaning is also obscure (it is ‘Tweden’ in 1541, ‘Twedane’ in 1576, ‘Tweden’ in 1580, ‘Twedon’ in 1583 and ‘Tueden’ in 1599 and 1622)."

According to Alan James, an expert on Brittonic place-names in Northern Britain, this stream-name appears to represent Tweed + a diminutive Brittonic –in suffix, and this

“… pushes the name back to the 12th century or earlier, possibly a lot earlier, and implies the stream was called Tweed or something similar before that.”

Also of possible interest is the presence at Drumelzier of Tinnis Castle.  Tinnis Hill and Burn are found in Liddesdale just a few kilometers downstream from the Tweeden Burn. Tinnis is from Cumbric 'dinas', fort.  So once again we have very similar place-names found in both locations.

Given that Myrddin/Llallogan fought at Arthuret where the Liddel and the Esk meet, and Meldred/Maldred may have been the lord of Cumbria, I would identify as the proper death-place of our “madman” the Tweeden Burn.  This notion is made all the more attractive by the presence at Old Castleton, a bit further up the Liddel, of a very early St. Martin’s Church, quite possibly an establishment originating from Whithorn.  I have suggested elsewhere that Myrddin was either identified with St. Martin or replaced by the saint in several locations in Lowland Scotland.

If I’m right and the Tweeden Burn is the place where Myrddin underwent his triple sacrifice, then the churchyard he was buried in must be that of St. Martin’s at Old Castleton. Note that there is no St. Martin or St. Ninian connection to Drumelzier.

However, we have forgotten about the Powsail Burn at Drumelzier. This place-name is from *pol-, ‘pool’, plus the word for ‘willow.’  Not coincidentally, there is a Willow Pool at the confluence of the Liddel Water and the Esk.  This is also the location of the Liddel Strength fort, sometimes also referred to in the sources as the Moat of Liddel (not to be confused with the castle at Old Castleton in Liddesdale).

For years now I have accepted the most recent translation 'green chapel' for the edifice that supposedly stands near where Myrddin/Merlin is buried. However, knowing as I do all too well the freedom translators can take when rendering medieval Latin, I went to the source and checked it out myself.

The most recent version of the relevant passage drawn from the Vita Kentigern was done by a Zacharias P. Thundy and is found in Peter Goodrich's The Romance of Merlin. It reads:

“Lailoken said, There is something I very much desire; you can easily grant me that besides my freedom. I want you to bury me in the eastern part of the city in the churchyard, where the faithful are interred, not far from the green chapel where the brook Pausayl flows into the River Tweed, which, indeed, will take place in a few days after my triple death.”

The actual Latin text is as follows:

Respondit Lailoken. vnum valde dabile postulo. libertate non pretermissa. videlicet vt tradas corpus meum sepulture, ad partem huius oppidi orientalem. in loco funeri. fidelis defuncti competenciore, haut longe a cespite. vbi torrens Passales in flumen descendit Tuedense. Futurum est enim post paucos dies, trina nece me morit[urum].

What I wanted to know was simply this: where is the 'green chapel' in this Latin?

My understanding of cespite is that is means 'grassy ground, grass, earth, sod, turf, altar/rampart/mound of sod/turf/earth. It does not mean 'chapel'. It, in fact, must mean a mound of grassy earth, i.e. a barrow mound. So there is no poetic description here of a barrow mound, no 'green chapel' - the Latin is quite specific.

Cespite is from caespes, turf, sod, "used for altars, mounds (of tombs), for covering cottages, huts, etc."

In brief, a cespite as a grassy mound COULD mean a grave mound. But we also need to bear in mind that the word moat, which we now think of as a defensive ditch, often filled with water, is from French via Middle English and during the medieval period it meant MOUND. It was the mound made by scooping dirt out of the surrounding ditch and flinging it up into a gigantic pile, upon which the castle would then be built.

W.F. Skene, in the 1800s, spoke with the farmer at 'Upper Moat', now Highmoat farm. This is located immediately SW of Liddel Strength, itself often described with the word mote or motte. Willow Pool ( = the exact meaning of the Powsail in Tweeddale) is right here at Highmoat. The farmer told Skene there was a local tradition of Romans and Picts (!) being slain in a great battle and buried in the orchard of Highmoat farm.

The Tweeden is a major tributary of the Liddel, but it is the Liddel that joins the Willow Pool at the Liddel Strength fortress.

Going back to the Tweeden Burn, I should not neglect to point out that there is found above that river on Tweeden Rigg a significant chambered long cairn.  Details about this cairn can be found here:

https://canmore.org.uk/site/67938/langknowe

https://books.google.com/books?id=nH5bAAAAIAAJ&pg=PA346&lpg=PA346&dq=%22Tweeden+rigg%22&source=bl&ots=1GGLbjQAjO&sig=mDB-Ci_IiQBeLmqkWLBwAPwBAmk&hl=en&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwi6i56EraDdAhWsHzQIHVMVD5wQ6AEwAHoECAEQAQ#v=onepage&q=%22Tweeden%20rigg%22&f=false

The location of the cairn is shown on the following map:


Modern Long Knowe appears as Tweeden Rig on John Thomson's Atlas of Scotland, 1832:


Here is an aerial photograph of the cairn:


The interesting thing about the Old Castleton site with its St. Martin's Church is that at some point in the development and transmission of the Myrddin/Merlin tradition, this former place could have been confused with Newcastleton further down the river.  The Tweeden Burn empties into the Liddel at Newcastleton.  





It is possible, therefore, that at some point in time the Langknowe cairn was thought of as Myrddin's grave.  Once this cairn was "transferred" in legend to the Tweed (where no cairn is in evidence, and the testimony of such a cairn ever being present is suspect), it's true location was forgotten.

While all of the above is interesting, we must also treat of the later Arthurian romance material on Merlin's tomb.  I wrote about that quite some time ago in my book THE MYSTERIES OF AVALON.  The following is a selection from that source, which I have slightly revised and amended.


In Welsh tradition, Nyfain (variants Nyuein, Nyven, Nevyn) daughter of Brychan is the name given to the mother of Urien... 

Nyfain’s name cannot, as some have thought, be an eponym for the ancient Novantae tribe, whose territory (roughly Dumfries and Galloway) was ruled over by Urien. The identification is etymologically impossible. But the name could very easily represent the Irish goddess Nemhain. Nemhain was one of the premiere battle-goddesses of Ireland, and was often paired with Macha, Morrigan and Badb.

In the Vulgate Merlin, the forest name of the Lady of the Lake is first given as the Forest of Briosque and only later as Broceliande, the name used by Chretien de Troyes. While Broceliande has been sought in various places, none of the candidates work geographically or etymologically. I would derive the Old French ‘Briosque’ from the –fries component of Dumfries, the town situated just West-Southwest of Lochmaben in Dumfriesshire. While once thought to be the ‘Fort of the Frisians’, authorities now correctly identify –fries with Gaelic preas, Angl. Pres(s), gen. phris, Angl. –fries, gen. pl. preas, (b)p(h)reasach, ‘bush, copse, thicket’. Spellings such as Dunfreisch, Droonfreisch, and Drumfriesche occasionally occur in old documents.

The second component is probably something similar to Welsh llwyn:

[bnth. Llad. lignum, cf. H. Lyd. loin, loen mewn e. lleoedd, ?Crn. Diw. loinou (ll.)] 

eg. (bach. g. llwynyn, ll. llwynynnau) ll. llwynau, llwyni, llwynydd (bach. ll. (prin) llwynïos).

bush, shrub, brake, thicket; copse, grove, arbour; woods, forest; (esp. in love-poetry) the traditional rendezvous of lovers, symbol of love or romance.

Broceliande itself may be evident in compounds like Welsh prysglwyn, "shrub, shrubbery, bush, brake, undergrowth, thicket, copse, jungle, also fig." and brysglwyn, "thicket, copse, brushwood." 

It makes a great deal of sense to envisage Merlin and Viviane in the Dumfries region, as this was the home stomping grounds of Myrddin, the Welsh prototype for Geoffrey of Monmouth’s Merlin. Broceliande, then, is simply a name for Dumfries.

In the context of any discussion of Myrddin and Nemhain in southwest Scotland, it is necessary to mention the Locus Maponi or ‘place of [the god] Maponus’, identifiable with Lochmaben in Dumfries (or perhaps the Ladyward Roman fort near Lochmaben, or even with the Clochmabenstane just south at Gretna Green; see the listing for Mabon in Chapter 6). As is well known, Mabon was the son of Modron, i.e. Matrona, the Divine Mother. This is the same Modron who is presented as the wife of Urien, son of Nyfain/Nemhain. 

There is a strong probability the “stone” under which Merlin was imprisoned by the Lady of the Lake in Broceliande is none other than the Clochmabenstane, once the site of a stone circle.  Her “lake” may have been at nearby Lochmaben. I would add that in Welsh tradition, the gods Lleu (with whom Myrddin has a very close affinity) and Mabon both appear in death at the same place in Gwynedd.  Lleu is found as the death-eagle in Nantlle, and the grave of Mabon is placed there also.  If the same identification of youthful sun gods occurred in the North (see, for example, Luguvalium, the ancient name of Carlisle only a dozen or so kilometers to the SE of the Clochmabenstane, the fort that is 'Lleu-strong' or the fort of a man who was strong like Lleu), Myrddin would naturally have been placed at a site sacred to Mabon. 

While it is tempting to give Modron the Divine Mother the name Nemhain, we are not justified in making this assumption. And, indeed, given the proximity of Lochmaben to the Annan River, and the presence of a St. Ann’s on a tributary of the Annan which has its confluence with the latter river at Lochmaben, it makes more sense to associate Modron/Matrona ‘the Divine Mother’ with a British version of the Irish goddess Anu. Annan is the genitive of anau, cognate with Welsh anaw ‘riches’, Gaelic Anu the name of the Irish goddess of prosperity. Geoffrey of Monmouth made this goddess, in the guise of ‘Anna’, the sister of Arthur.

This is especially so as I have identified the heartland of Urien's kingdom of Rheged as Annandale 
We have seen above that Urien's mother was Nefyn, while his wife was Modron.

CONCLUSION

I've not included in this survey of possible Myrddin tombs two other noteworthy examples which I've also investigated in previous works: the great ancient cairn atop Tinto in South Lanarkshire (a mountain associated with Myrddin in the early Welsh poetry; see http://secretsavalon.blogspot.com/2016/09/slight-revision-of-merlinmyrddin.html) and Dawston in Liddesdale (see http://mistshadows.blogspot.com/2017/11/the-actual-location-of-degsas-stone.html), whose name may be derived from or otherwise related to that of Gwenddydd, sister of Myrddin.  Gwenddydd is said by Geoffrey of Monmouth to have built her brother a celestial observatory which, as described, was certainly a stone circle. 

So how do we decide between these various possible Myrddin graves?  Well, to begin, we can safely discount that claim that he was buried in a churchyard.  This is merely a typically sad effort on the part of a Christian author to confine a pagan figure in consecrated soil.  Myrddin, either Lleu himself or a mortal avatar of that god, can only be saved in the end by being granted a Christian burial.

The answer to the riddle is, I think, somewhat surprising, although obvious once we lay out a reasonable argument.  I draw once again from my earlier work on Myrddin (http://secretsavalon.blogspot.com/2016/09/slight-revision-of-merlinmyrddin.html), where a possible etymology for Arfderydd/Arderydd is proposed:

As we are dealing with a hill at Arthuret, the initial component is almost certainly ardd, ‘hill, height’.  But what of the second element?

The clue, interestingly enough, is also found in the Welsh sources. In an early Myrddin poem we learn that two of the warriors present at Arderydd were Errith and Gwrrith (spelled Gurrith in the MS.). Errith is cognate with an Irish word, arracht, from ar + richt, meaning specter, ghost, apparition. Gwrrith is 'Man-specter/ghost/apparition'. This last matches the meaning of the name Myrddin according to Dr. Graham Isaac of The National University of Ireland, Galway - *Moro-donyos or "Specter-man".

While some scholars have claimed that Errith and Gwrrith belong to Dyfed (where Myrddin as Merlin was transferred in later medieval tradition), there is no good reason for thinking they were not considered to be present at the Battle of Arderydd.


“The most recent change in the topography of the battlefield occurred in the 1950s when the western of two mounds known as Arthuret Knowes was bulldozed. It had been quarried for sand during the Second World War. The twin knowes were long-believed to be prehistoric burial mounds but the sand is now thought to have been deposited on the boulder clay beneath by a glacial icesheet.”

It is important to note, however, that earlier writers thought that perhaps these two mounds had originally been one:

“The church and rectory at Arthuret are situated on a raised plateau on the west side of the river Esk which flows past them at a lower level, and to the south of the church and rectory garden there rise two small wooded hills known as the “Arthuret Knowes." These are separated from each other by the public road, and I think that at one time they formed one low hill or ridge about 500 yards long, but were divided into two when the highway was made."


And here the same assessment of the mounds is made:

https://books.google.com/books?id=bSwRAAAAIAAJ&pg=PR91&lpg=PR91&dq=arthuret+esker&source=bl&ots=LU2aWhmF9s&sig=N_WX1go7l7f0Y1Da4MdyVIEepyo&hl=en&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwixzYHOgardAhUJJDQIHf9kBr8Q6AEwCnoECAQQAQ#v=onepage&q=arthuret%20esker&f=false

This is a Greenwood map of 1824, showing the hill or hills bisected by the road:


More accurate information on the ridge or mounds at Arthuret comes from Mark Brennand, Lead Officer Historic Environment and Commons, Environment and Regulatory Services, Cumbria County Council"

"I am afraid we hold nothing that would provide a definitive answer as to the original form of the mound or mounds at Arthuret. In A Tour of Scotland and Voyage to the Hebrides (1790), Thomas Pennant wrote of Arthuret that ‘near the village are some high and irregular sandy eminences; probably natural, notwithstanding a contrary opinion has been held, because some coins and an urn have been found in them’. Note that Pennant uses the plural for the mounds, although we, of course, cannot be sure which ‘eminences’ he was describing.

By the time of the Ordnance Survey first edition, the road is in the position that it still occupies today, and a sand pit is recorded on the western side of the western mound. Writing in the 1860s, William Forbes Skene recorded ‘south of the church and parsonage there rise from this platform two small hills covered with wood, called the Arthuret Knowes’. The road was, of course, already in place by this time. In Prehistoric Age in England (1904) Professor Windle noted tumuli (plural) at Arthuret, whereas this came from a survey of 1893 by Chancellor Ferguson, who later revised his interpretation to that there were probably eskers (Collingwood, Transactions 1926).

You will have noted that Henry Barnes stated it was his own personal interpretation that the two mounds were originally one, later divided by the road. I cannot find another early study that states the two mounds were one, although in this respect your own research is probably far more detailed than the information in the Historic Environment Record. My own inclination would be that if the road was constructed on that particular line, then it is possible that there was already an accessible route through at that point. We do not have any other evidence to suggest that the two mounds could originally be seen as one single geological formation, but that does not mean to say that it was not so in the sixth century."

Final word on the subject comes from Stephen White of the Carlisle Library:

The Hodgkinson and Donald Map of 1770 shows the then road to Carlisle from Longtown going apparently between the church and rectory. WT MacIntyre discussed the Knowes in an article in the Cumberland News in 1944. He speculates that they may have been a part of one ridge cut through by the road  - see attached copy. Also in 1926 in the Transactions of the Cumberland and Westmorland Antiquarian and Archaeological Society WG Collingwood says in an article on the Knowes  that in 1907 on a Society’s visit to the area  Mr Hesketh ‘ pointed out that the Knowes are parts of a long ridge divided by the road into two hills’.


Below for your interest is the area on the 1860 Ordnance Survey sheet
Lastly, see below detail from the 1975 1:10,000 map of this area with contour lines

If we are talking about two mounds having existed anciently at Arthuret, I would propose that one was called Ardd Gurrith/(G)urrith (the /G/ quite naturally being lost, as is typical in such Welsh compounds) and the other Ardd Errith.  Otherwise, these may be two alternate names for the same hill.

Although Gwrrith and Myrddin may mean the same thing, and Myrddin was also known by an attested second name – that of Llallogan – we cannot be sure Gwrrith = Myrddin in terms of an identification of actual personhood.  But it is tempting to see both Specter Man names as descriptors for Llallogan, making Arthuret the home and ruling center of Myrddin.

The Welsh Arderydd probably stands for Ardd Errith. As suggested by Isaac, Myrddin’s father’s name Morfryn or Mor-bryn = ‘Spirit-hill’.  This would exactly match in meaning Ardd Errith.

In the past, I was content in seeing in Arthuret a small fortification (see http://www.pastscape.org.uk/hob.aspx?a=0&hob_id=10819) belonging to Myrddin /Merlin or, perhaps, to the people who worshiped the 'Spirit-man' (cf. the Irish god Lugh as the ferscal or specter-man).  But in considering these "mounds" as being thought of in the past as sepulcher in nature, and given their proximity to the River Liddel, I'm inclined to designate them as the final resting place - or perhaps we should say residence - of Myrddin.

Despite the extensive damage we've inflicted on the Arthuret Knowes in recent times, perhaps Myrddin is still there?



  










Tuesday, September 4, 2018

Monday, August 20, 2018

THE APPLE TREE OF MYRDDIN

Chapel Knowe Near Nemphlar, South Lanarkshire
(Photo Courtesy Alan O'Dowd Via geograph.org.uk)

In the early Welsh poem Yr Afallennau, 'The Apple Trees', we are told about a magical apple tree in which Myrddin the Mad finds refuge from the British Strathclyde king, Rhydderch.  We are given various enigmatic hints as to the location of this tree.  The tree is in the Celyddon Wood (in this case, the Scottish Lowland forest deriving its name from the Caddon Water, a relocation of the true Caledonian Forest that lay in the Highlands). It is said to be "beyond Rhun", and in a glade (Awallen peren atif inllanerch).  Also, it is on a bank of a river.

Many have dispensed with this tree as a mythological construct.  I once tried to identify it with Cairn Avel, a chambered tomb in Dumfries and Galloway. However, certain antiquarian writers did point out that the Welsh common noun llanerch or "glade" was present in the Scottish Lowland place-name Lanark.  The Geiriadur Prifysgol Cymru has for the entry on llanerch:

"llannerch

[?llan+erch1 neu ynteu est. yn -rk- i’r Frth. *landa (> llann), H. Grn. lanherch, gl. saltus; digwydd mewn e. lleoedd yng Nghumbria ac yn yr Alban, e.e. Lanercost, Lanark, Lanrick, Lendrick, Caerlanrig]

eb.g. (bach. g. llanerchyn) ll. llanerchau, -i, -oedd, -ydd, llanneirch, llenneirch, llennyrch.

Lle agored mewn coedwig, &c., gwerddon, tir porfa, cowrt, beili, man gwag, clwt, mangre, lle, ardal; brycheuyn, ysmotyn; (geir.) trigfa; Her. maes neu wyneb tarian:

a clearing, glade, oasis, pasture, court, empty space, patch, place, area, region; blemish, spot; (dict.) habitation; field of escutcheon (in her.)." 

Alas, no one seems to have paid attention to this observation. Yet the connection has been confirmed by the best of the modern place-name scholars.  The following is from Alan  G. James' "The Brittonic Language in the Old North: A Guide to the Place-Name Evidence, Volume 2, Guide to the Elements":

"lanerc or *lanrec (f) Br *landā- (see lann) + -arcā- > OW(LL) lannerch > M-MnW llannerch. The suffix -arcā- may be diminutive, cf. early Modern Welsh glosses llan = Latin area, llannerch = areola (see GPC, and Williams 1952). If so, and assuming a secular sense for lann (which see), the meaning would be ‘a small (cleared, and possibly enclosed) area of (former) scrub, waste, fallow or wooded land’. The common interpretation, ‘a glade’ may over-emphasise the woodland connotations. The examples from the North mostly show single –n- and non-spirant –rc. Jackson, (1955a) at p. 164, regarded the latter as a Pritenic feature, but it was probably also present in northernmost Brittonic. 

The cluster of names with this element in and around the middle Irthing valley, recorded mainly
in the Lanercost Cartulary (Todd 1997), is of particular interest. Jackson argued, in LHEB §149,
pp. 571-2, that the absence of spirant lenition from these names may indicate that [-rk] > [-rχ],
which he dated to the late 6th century in West Brittonic, occurred later or not at all in northern
Brittonic/ Cumbric (assuming as he did that these names were adopted by Northumbrian English
speakers on their arrival, again in the late 6th century). However, this begs several questions, and
his later opinion on the similar feature in Pritenic (1955a loc. cit.) suggests an alternative view
that these names may reflect much later colonisation of the district by settlers from further north
(though not necessarily from Pictland): see A. G. James (2008) at p. 200.

Several forms also show metathesised –rec, which may be compared with Landrick Per (x2) and
Lendrick Ang and Knr. R. A. V. Cox (1997) shows that such metathesis was characteristic of
Gaelicised forms of this word. This may be relevant to the names north of the Forth, and even to
the local pronunciation of Lanark recorded as Lainrick. However, it is doubtful whether the
names in the Lanercost Cartulary are Gaelic or Goidelic-influenced. See also Nicolaisen (2007) at
p. 120 and A.G. James (2009a) at pp. 151-2.

a1) Lanark CPNS p. 356: see above. Lanerton Cmb PNCmb p. 115 [+ OE –tūn ‘a farm’]. b2) Lanercost Cmb PNCmb p. 71 + personal name *Ǭst: though unrecorded, such a name could be a neo-Brittonic form for the Latin Augustus, via Vernacular Latin *Agust- > late British *Aɣust or *Awust, cf. Welsh Awst, the month of August. See I Williams (1952) at pp. 67-9, and cf. Coates in CVEP, pp. 54-5, on Aust Glo, but note Watts’s reservations, DEPN(C), p. 27. Such a personal name need not necessarily date the place-name formation to the post-Roman period, it could have been current much later. The Augustinian priory was established here around 1166: Williams loc. cit. thought this ‘a happy coincidence’, but it is not wholly impossible even at that date that a (dialectally northern) Cumbric-speaking community existed here, or was introduced in association with the foundation, and that *Awst here is a late Cumbric hypocorism for Augustine. If so, the other lanerc names, and other late Cumbric names in this area, could have been associated with the same foundation. See A. G. James (2008) loc. cit. and (2009a) loc. cit. Lanrechaithin Cmb (Burtholme) PNCmb p. 72, Lan Cart 6 and note + -ejthin: note the exceptional (but very early) –ch- in this record of c1170, replaced by –c- or –k- in subsequent records. Lanrecorinsan Cmb (Brampton?) Lan Cart 28 ? + ï[r]- ? + -ïnïs- + -an: see Breeze (2006c) at p. 326. Lanrekereini Cmb (Nether Denton) Lan Cart 49 ? + ï[r]- ? + -üwn (see *oɣn and Breeze (2006c) at p. 326), or + -*rieini, plural of *rijajn (which see; A. Walker, pers. comm.) Note that this is not a variant of Lanrechaithin as stated in PNCmb at p. 72: see Todd (2005) at p. 93 and p. 102 n37. 

 Lanrequeitheil Cmb (Burtholme) PNCmb p. 72, LanCart 149 ? + -cȩ:d- [+ OE –hyll > ‘hill’] A.
Walker, pers. comm., or + personal (saint’s?) name -Judhael, see *jǖδ and Breeze (2006c) loc.
cit.

c1) Barlanark Lnk (Shettleston) CPNS p. 356 + *baɣeδ-, which see.
c2) Caerlanrig Rox (Teviothead) CPNS p. 368, PNRox p. 6 + cajr-, which see. Macdonald in
PNRox prefers OE *lang-hryċġ, as ‘long ridge’ is appropriate here; if this is correct, cajr- must
be attributed to post-Northumbrian Cumbric-speaking (re-) colonisation. However, [-ŋ(h)r-] > [-
nr-] is not a regular development between Northumbrian Old English and early Scots.
Drumlanrig Dmf (Durrisdeer) + *drum-, which see.

Records for Panlaurig Bwk confirm that this was not -lanerc, see under laβar."

'Rhun', if considered in the context of Rhydderch's Strathclyde, can only be a reference to the 9th century Strathclyde king of that name.  Now, critics have claimed that Rhun's kingdom could not be that which appears in the Myrddin poem.  Why?  Because Myrddin was of the 6th century.  But these same critics forget that 'Yr Afallennau' is extant only in MSS. dated well after the reign of Rhun.  So by the time the poem was put to paper - regardless of any prior verbal transmission - the kingdom of Strathclyde might easily have been anachronistically called the land of Rhun in the medieval Welsh poem.

I thought to begin my search by looking for an actual apple tree place-name in the vicinity of Lanark.  The result of that search? There was a chapel associated with nearby Nemphlar called variously 'All men's apple tree" or "Old Man's apple tree."  Some rather dated books discuss this place, but the best information is to be found on more modern and very respectable Websites:

http://www.wosas.net/wosas_site.php?id=10265


The location of the chapel is shown only on the Roy maps of 1752-55:


The site of the apple tree chapel is near the Clyde, the chief river of the Kingdom of Strathclyde.  I take this to be the river mentioned in the 'Yr Afallennau.'

Alan James, a foremost expert in the Brittonic place-names of North Britain, has informed me that:

"Very helpful friends in the FB Scottish Place-Names group have come up with more on Nemphlar. The earliest record is a grant 1173x1214 by King WIlliam to the parish church of Lanark of the parish of Nemflare (sic in the rubric, in the text of the grant, Nenflare) 

There is no record of any Templar holding there, notwithstanding Chalmers (who gives no source), Alan Macquarrie has confirmed that."

I would hasten to add that very near where this apple tree chapel was said to have stood, there was a holy well.  It went by various names, but came to associated with St. Mary:


Why might this be important?  Because in Strophe 4 of 'Yr Afallennau', we are told that Myrddin "contended at its base [of the apple tree] in order to please a maiden." As the chapel of the apple tree and the holy well were very close to one another, it may be that the maiden in question was the pagan equivalent of Mary.

Lanark is the only place in Scotland to have an actual ancient church dedicated to St. Kentigern.  Other churches are always dedicated to his nickname, Mungo.


Kentigern is elsewhere brought into connection with Merlin/Myrddin, and I have convincingly shown that this saint appears in the Welsh Myrddin poems as a certain Gwasawg (see http://mistshadows.blogspot.com/2017/07/slight-revision-of-merlinmyrddin.html). Gwasawg is the "supporter of Rhydderch" and thus an enemy of Myrddin, and is mentioned in the 'Yr Afallennau.'

This chapel of the apple tree is only some 15 kilometers as the crow flies from Myrddin's Tinto Hill (see http://mistshadows.blogspot.com/2018/02/ive-been-asked-to-post-my-study-on.html). Tinto is the "central mountain" of the Scottish Lowlands, at least in the scheme presented to us in the early Myrddin tradition.


Lastly, it would appear the Nemphlar region was quite famous for its apples.  From http://www.clydesdalesheritage.org.uk/clydesdales-heritage-an-overview/:

"Blaeu’s map of the Upper and Nether Wards of Clydesdale, based on Pont’s 1596 survey, shows a figure holding a basket of apples, a reference to the prosperous orchards of the Clyde Valley."

Nemphlar is in the Upper Ward. 

Given all of the above, I would put forward the proposal that Myrddin's apple tree in the Celyddon Wood of Lowland Scotland is none other than the All Men's Apple Tree/Old Man's Apple Tree chapel of Nemphlar in South Lanarkshire.

NOTE: Alan James has shared with me a possibly interesting derivation for the All Men's portion of the appletree name

"According to OPS (p. 119), Nemphlar, in the reign of King William the Lion (reign 1165 – 1214), seems to have had a church of its own, which, after its annexation by that king to Lanark, became a chapel dependent on the mother church. Its site was at East Nemphlar, probably at a spot called 'Alman's appletree'. Roy’s 1755 map records this spot as Allman’s Appletree, located near NS859446, where My Lady’s Well is now mapped.

The Nemphlar apple tree seems to be first recorded on Roy's map, at a time when apple cultivation was only starting to get going, and in enclosed gardens and orchards, so this would have been either a notable crab apple tree or, less likely, an even more exceptional planted one.

Simon Taylor notes: 1173x1214 the whole parish of Nemphlar and Cartlan was granted by King William to church of Lanark, and thereafter remained a pendicle of that church, which itself was annexed to Dryburgh Abbey (Dryburgh Lib. nos. 44-6; Retours nos. 325, 328). Cowan 1967, 154-5.

My (AJ) immmediate thoughts: those are helpful, if only in confirming a fair degree of consistency over 8 centuries or so - /n/ > /m/ is the only real phonemic-level change, and that's unsurprising before /f/.

Alman's Appletree is tantalising, it might just possibly have been a meeting-place (ON al-manna)."










Thursday, August 16, 2018

I start writing full-time on this new title in a week or two...


A SCATTERING OF SONG
The first book in the Dark Avalon series
At the Battle of Ardd Gwrrith, Myrddin witnesses the destruction of his fellow warriors and the falling of his chieftain, Gwenddolau. Fleeing in what he believes to be madness from the scene of chaos and carnage, he seeks refuge in the fastness of the Caledonian Woods. Only with the passage of the seasons, during which he lives like an animal of the forest, pursued relentlessly by the hounds of his enemy, does he become aware of the true nature of his own altered state of existence. And with that awareness comes a terrible knowledge, a power undreamed of, and a strange intimacy with a woman of the wilds whose affinity with the Otherworld offers him both freedom and eternal imprisonment.
Note on the Title of this Book:
‘A Scattering of Song’ is my free translation of the Middle Welsh word gwasgargerdd, found in the poem “Gwasgardgerd Verdin”. Gerdd is ‘song, poem’, and gwasgar as a noun means scattering, dispersion, separation, a spreading abroad, division, a giving, distribution, and as an adjective, dispersed, scattered, shared, given, distributing, dispersing. I chose to see this as a song that was scattered, as one might scatter seed.
Indeed, a famous poet and contemporary of the 6th century Taliesin was named Cian Gwenith Gwawd, that is Cian ‘Wheat of Song’. This epithet suggested to me that a poem or song could be metaphorically described as something that was scattered like wheat. I would add that Gwion Bach turns himself into a grain of wheat. When consumed by the goddess Ceridwen (who has assumed the form of a tufted black hen), he is later born from her as Taliesin. This famous divine poet was, therefore, himself an embodiment of the ‘wheat of song’.
Other attempts have been made to render gwasgargerdd, but I do not think they work in the context of the prophetic poem uttered by Myrddin. As one manuscript calls the poem “Gwasgardgerd Vyrdin y ny bed”, “in the grave”, and the prophet is portrayed as speaking with his sister, Gwenddydd, who is presumably outside of the said grave, “Separation-Song” has been proposed. This does not seem to fit the range of meanings for gwasgar, which plainly has to do with the giving or distributing of something and does not indicate the separation of one person from another.

Saturday, August 11, 2018

The Introduction and Appendix to My New Book THE KING OF STONEHENGE


The Kingdom of Modred



INTRODUCTION:
THE ENEMY OF ARTHUR THE BEAR KING



In my book THE BEAR KING: ARTHUR AND THE IRISH IN WALES AND SOUTHERN ENGLAND, I made my case for Arthur being the famous Cerdic of Wessex.  Cerdic, in turn, is none other than Ceredig, son of the Cunedda who came from Ireland (not Scotland near the head of the Firth of Forth) and settled in western Wales.  Some of Cunedda’s sons served as mercenaries or perhaps federates (in the old Roman sense) under the High King of Wales at Viroconium, modern Wroxeter.  Cerdic was one such.  The Gewissei, ‘the Sure or Certain Ones,’ owe their name to an English misinterpretation of Cerdic (found written also as Certic; cf. Latin certi, from certus, ‘sure, certain, reliable, trusty’).

The present title aims to be an exploration of the identity and nature of Arthur’s adversary.  My first clue as to who this might be came when I found a likely location for Camlann, the Bear King’s last and fatal battle, on the coast of Hampshire.  While I tentatively suggested that Camlann might be a Welsh attempt at the Cymenesora found listed as a battle site in the ANGLO-SAXON CHRONICLE, I tended to prefer – and still do – a shore on Portsmouth Harbour, whose earlier British name Camas could mean the same thing as Camlann, viz. ‘crooked shore.’  Cymenesora, based mainly on some charters, is usually placed somewhere in the vicinity of Selsey Bill (see Chapter Seventeen below).

Such a placement of Camlann not only fit the respective chronologies of the English and Welsh sources, but also the geography of Cerdic’s battles as these are found listed in the ANGLO-SAXON CHRONICLE.

Traditionally, the Medrawd who also died at Camlann has been viewed as Arthur’s opponent. Based solely on the entry for the battle in the WELSH ANNALS, we have no way of knowing if this is correct.  It is not until we explore the name Medrawd itself and compare it with another famous name of the period that we can determine what the actual relationship was between him and Arthur.

In 1996, I communicated with renowned Celticist Professor Oliver Padel of Cambridge.  I asked him if Medrawd, found as Modred in Cornish, could represent the Roman name Moderatus.  To my surprise, he said that he personally was satisfied that I had arrived at the right etymology for the name.  It was some time after this discovery that I happened to think of the description given to the legendary Dark Age war-leader Ambrosius Aurelianus in Gildas’s ON THE RUIN AND CONQUEST OF BRITAIN.

Ambrosius in that source is called “vir modestus”, a modest man.  Why might this be significant in the context of Medrawd/Modred/Moderatus? Because in Latin the words modestus and moderatus have essentially the same meaning.  And, in fact, both derive from the same root, modus.  To my knowledge no one had sought to make a connection between Ambrosius and Modred.  The reason for this is obvious: the two men are believed to have lived at different times and, indeed, to have belonged to different generations.

So, was it merely a coincidence that Ambrosius was called a modest man, something that made him sound suspiciously like Moderatus?

Well, this created an entirely new avenue for research.  Ambrosius has been a major problem for historians for some time.  I’d written rather extensively on his being a fanciful “import” to Britain, based on a look-alike personal name attached to Amesbury in Wiltshire.  Place-name experts are adamant that the Ambr preserved in OE Ambresbyrig (= Amesbury) is not an English form of Ambrosius.  Yet the Welsh certainly took it to be just that.

Ambrosius Aurelianus was a 4th century Roman Governor of Gaul and father of St. Ambrose.  There is no evidence whatsoever that he ever set foot in Britain. Therefore, when we see the name Ambrosius in the pages of Gildas or in subsequent sources like the HISTORY OF BRITAIN attributed to the monk Nennius, we must automatically ask ourselves either a) was the whole story of Ambrosius merely a propogandist fiction or b) might the name Ambrosius be masking another truly British name that was subsequently forgotten?

If no more than a propogandist fiction, we can make no more headway on discerning the role of Moderatus at Camlann.

On the other hand, if Ambrosius is an error for a British name found preserved in the English Ambr of Amesbury, a quite wonderful thing happens.

Only a couple of years ago, Arthurian scholar Nikolai Tolstoy in his THE MYSTERIES OF STONEHENGE proposed that Ambr owes its origin to a British form of the Gaulish personal name Ambiorix.  There exist some minor linguistic problems with this notion, of course.  To get around these objections, I myself proposed *Ambirix. The linguists admitted that this form was theoretically possible.

If Ambirix yielded Ambr, probably through British intermediary spellings, then the favored etymology of the personal name may relate directly to the Stonehenge monument near Amesbury.  For Ambirix might be ‘King of the [Round] Enclosure.’

Accepting for a moment that Amesbury was anciently the Fort of Ambirix, are we to assume that this was Moderatus’s British name?  Or was it a sort of title for whoever happened to be ruling from Amesbury?  Or was it simply the name of the founder of Amesbury?  Or was the King of the [Round] Enclosure an epithet for the god once worshipped at Stonehenge?

Not all of these ideas are mutually exclusive.  For instance, a sacred king ruling from Amesbury might well be referred to with the god’s epithet.  If he were viewed as a personification of the god, this would be quite a natural development.  Obviously, we must bear in mind that southern England was highly Romanized and Christianity would have been in full-swing at least up until the last withdrawal of the legions in the early fifth century.

The Welsh name for England – Lloeg(y)r – would support the contention that the South had remained Romanized. While various Celtic derivations have been sought for this word, it seems to me pretty clearly to be from the Latin genitive plural laicorum (m.)/laicarum (f.)/laicorum (n.), from laicus, “of or belonging to the people or laity, not priestly, not consecrated.”  If people living in the region concerned were laity, then they were Christian.  Not priests, but also not pagans. 

Granted, paganism could have returned to Amesbury or we could be dealing with nothing more than observation of a long-cherished local tradition, more or less stripped of its pre-Christian meaning.  Of course, Christianity did not so much exterminate paganism in Britain as it embraced it and transformed it. We have some good examples of Celtic saints who started off their evangelizing careers as local pagan deities.

Our earliest datable reference to Ambrosius is in the 9th century THE HISTORY OF BRITAIN.  There we are told Ambrosius fought a certain Vitalinus at the Wallop Brook (or Danebury Ring hard by? - see Chapter Nine below) in Hampshire.  The Wallop Brook is a very short distance south of Amesbury.  As I’ve elsewhere pointed out, the problem here is that Vitalinus is the name of Vortigern’s grandfather. A Vitalis was Vortigern’s father. The grandfather would have lived around the time of the Continental Ambrosius Aurelianus.

Vortigern (= Irish Fortchern) was half-British and half-Irish.  Vitalinus is a Latin substitute for his father’s name, Fedelmid.  Vitalis looks simply like a doublet.  If Fedelmid did fight at the Wallop Brook, that would be rather remarkable.  For it would prove that the Irish were active in the same region well before the Irish or part-Irish Ceredig son of Cunedda/Cerdic of the Gewissei showed up on the scene.

Note, also, however, the Fittledon (early forms Viteletone, Fitletone, Fitelton) just north of Amesbury.  This is supposedly from an OE personal name Fitela, but the place-name could have suggested to the author of THE HISTORY OF BRITAIN that Vitalis/Vitalinus had fought in the vicinity.  Or, just as feasibly, Fitela could be an OE attempt at Fidelmid or Vitalis.

We might now look at this as a kind of logical problem.  For if ‘Ambrosius’ – in realty, the King of the Round Enclosure from Amesbury – was fighting in the 4th or 5th centuries, and again in the 6th century, we are not talking about the same man.  Instead, what we have is a garbled record of rulers based at Amesbury fighting Saxons and their Irish or Hiberno-British allies for at least a couple of generations.

Moderatus would simply be the King of the Round Enclosure who happened to be fighting against Cerdic and who perished along with his enemy at Camlann in the 6th century.

But it would appear the resistance of the Amesbury kingdom did not end with the demise of Modred.  We will see below that this powerful line of rulers managed to stave off the invaders for another half a century.



AFTERWORD:
WHERE NEXT FOR ARTHURIAN STUDIES?



Once one has completed all possible research and put forward the best theory of which one can conceive, what remains to be done?

For Arthurian scholars, there are a limited number of stones that can be turned over.  In the academic world, there is resistance to acknowledging the existence of any evidence at all that might support the idea that Arthur was, in some sense, historical. And this stance is completely understandable – even if, at times, acutely frustrating and discouraging.  The few relevant early sources that either pertain to Arthur directly or to his floruit are scant, and these few documents have had their veracity seriously challenged by scrupulous analysis.  Archaeology, as demonstrated long ago by highly qualified experts like Leslie Alcock, can only show us so much.  It cannot reveal Arthur to us – unless we find a grave stone with his name on it from the right period.  And even then questions would arise as to whether the particular Arthur memorialized on the stone was the Arthur or merely an Arthur.

The problem of the scarcity of evidence is compounded by a plethora of invalid or nonsensical theories about who and what Arthur was and where he belonged.  The “monstrous regiment of Arthurs” is primarily a product of wishful thinking and self-aggrandizement.  New Age/neopagan or more traditional spiritual beliefs, nationalistic or ethnic biases, rebellious natures, stubborn conceit, pure willfulness, troll-like antagonism and all manner of flawed reasoning and personal foibles have contributed to untenable Arthurian theories supported by invalid arguments based on false premises.  For, as Montaigne said, “Nothing is so firmly believed as what is least known.”

In short, some stones should not be turned over. There is simply nothing underneath them, save perhaps imagination and folly. 

But could there still be some stones left over that are worth searching for?  Beyond a doubt.  Where to look for them?  Alas, I have no clue.
I’ve done my best to work with what I could gain access to.  And I’ve also tried desperately hard to remain honest with myself.  Along the way I’ve stood on the shoulders of many a giant – profoundly learned (and often wise) men who have earned sterling reputations in their respective fields of study.  These intellectual giants have often helped convert regular stones into stepping stones – and have sometimes helped me step across from one stone to the other.  I can’t claim that I haven’t more than once fallen into the waters of ignorance, dampened my feet in ego or splashed myself with embarrassment.   For the most part, though, the giants caught me when I slipped or had a stone unexpectedly tip beneath me.  They propped me up and provided me with much needed balance.

When in my book THE BEAR KING I set out to identify Arthur as Cerdic of the Gewissei, I did so only because the evidence – such as it was – propelled me inexorably in that direction.  In truth, I did not want to make such an identification.  Why not?

Because, like everyone else who fell in love with Arthurian romance at a young age, I wanted Arthur to be the shining hero who had saved Britain from the Saxon hordes and who then went on to be the king of the most chivalrous knights the world had ever seen.  Instead, the historical entity turned out to be something very different.  He was, admittedly, somewhat of a disappointment to me and I wrote at length a sort of apology for him.  If I were right, he was an Irish or Hiberno-British mercenary chieftain fighting for the High King of Wales in alliance with Saxons and/or Jutes against other Britons.  Such a portrait was a far cry from the King of Camelot. 

Yet, sometimes, finding something that one does not wish to find – and consciously desires to reject – is exactly that which must be retained. Sure, all legitimate efforts must be made to disprove it.  That is, after all, the scientific method.  But if in the end one can only refute a theory by an act rooted in self-delusion or emotional immaturity, or a need to protect an academic reputation, then that refutation must be considered unjustified.

The same kind of process played out in this work on Modred, only on a smaller scale.  I had long thought there may be some connection between Moderatus and the Ambrosius ‘vir modestus.’  But until I had pinned down the location of Camlann on the shore of Hampshire, this equivalency of persons had no apparent applicable value.  It was only when the two seemingly unrelated bits of information dovetailed so perfectly and I had more fully explored the various layers of the Dinas Emrys/Amesbury story that I came to realize the real hero I was always seeking may have been Arthur’s enemy.

As with Arthur/Cerdic the mercenary captain, I had not set out intentionally to either further erode Modred’s character or to repair it.  Certainly, no one in his right mind would choose to promote an “evil” Arthur and a “good” Mordred.  This kind of radical revision of a beloved legend does not hold the promise of commercial success.  It is not the road to fame and will never win over the hearts and minds of Arthurian enthusiasts. 

So why do it?  Why bother at all?

Well, I can only think of one reason: because it might accurately reflect a historical reality.  Oddly enough, it may in part be the sheer negative visceral response to such a theory that might, eventually, impart a stronger reason for subscribing to it.   The plausibility index can increase when distastefulness, outrage and ridicule wane and are replaced by appreciation and understanding.

Cherished fictions die hard.  It is often difficult to replace them with another version of the story that is not pretty or pleasing.  As the adage goes, “The truth can be a bitter pill to swallow.”


https://www.amazon.com/King-Stonehenge-Modred-Defense-Britain/dp/1724334190/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1532966235&sr=1-1&keywords=the+king+of+stonehenge