Has the King Arthur Gene Been Traced?

Ancient Origins

If stories of King Arthur and his knights are based on real people their DNA markers should still be with us today. New DNA research has perhaps found the King Arthur gene.

 The Genetic Lead
R1b-L513 is a DNA Celtic tribal marker just discovered in January 2011. Now, Family Tree DNA (FTDNA) from Houston, Texas with lead researcher Mike Walsh, have confirmed this DNA strand connecting men’s Y DNA Chromosome pattern with about 400 ancestral families who were related to each other from around 500 to 1200 AD.

 When matching DNA marker R1b-L513 with surname heraldry, one gets this remarkable pattern of symbols. This is but a small sample of 400, R1b-L513 surname family coat of arms dominating this DNA group.

Some of the coats of arms belonging to the 400 ancestral Celtic families.Coat of arms sources for Cook, Moody, Miller, Lyons, Patton, Henderson, Garvey, Beatty, Duff, Taylor, Ward, Nicholson, and Sears are from englishgathering.co.uk; Hay is from Scotclans.com; Campbell is from The General Armory; Jones is from Pinterest.ca; Short is from Americancoatofarms.com; Tiernan, Elwood, McCool and Rafferty are from Ireland101.com. Gamble is from thetreemarker.com; St. Clair and Warenne is from commons.wikimedia.org; Abbot is from Mikeclark.com; Edwards is from American Heraldry Society; Walsh is from Cheshire Heraldry; Gardner is from Redbubble.com; Williams is from The-red-thread.net; and Coffey is from Burk’s General Armory.

A Tribal Tale
This writer’s ebook, The Tribe Within found on Smashwords.com, suggests King Arthur’s story is a tribal one going back centuries when Rome was conquering northern France around 50 BC. One tribe affected were seafarers called the Veneti (pronounced Weneti). After a war with Julius Caesar which almost annihilated them, the Veneti left for Ireland. What connects them together is their tribal symbol above and DNA.

 Coinciding with Geoffrey of Monmouth’s account of King Arthur is a forgotten story from early 6 th Century Brittany. This tale begins in 410 AD. While Rome’s army is retreating from Britain, an unknown Christian monk opens a university: Cor Tewdws (College of Theodosius).

Cor Tewdws has seven great halls, over 400 houses, and more than 2,200 students attending annually before Vikings destroy it in 987 AD. Engraved Celtic stones placed at each great hall’s entrance mark individual tribes and still can be seen at the ruins today in LLantwit Major, Glamorgan, Wales. According to the Welsh Triad, around 500 AD Cor Tewdws’ Headmaster is St. Illtud, a “cousin” of King Arthur.

The Celtic Stones from Cor Tewdws, at St Illtud, Llantwit Major, Glamorgan, Wales. ( CC BY-SA 2.0 )

This writer believes in the early 6 th Century Cor Tewdws’ mission was to re-unite seven tribes of pre-Roman Brittany [Osismi, Unelli, Curiosolitae, Armoricani, Namnetes and Redones (all suspect DNA Tribe R1b-DF41) then found in Cornwall and Devon, England] and Veneti (R1b-L513) and send them on a quest to reclaim their ancestral lands in Brittany, France.

Evidence from Saint Padarn’s Life
One monk is assigned to recruit the Veneti. The Life of Saint Padarn is a collection of short stories written several hundred years after this monk’s death, found at www.maryjones.us/ctexts/padarn.html . By assessing the names recorded from the monk’s travels, doing independent research, and incorporating overlapping DNA results, a combination of Veneti sub-tribes and surnames start to emerge. The dots start to connect revealing a lost history which this writer believes is the historical background to what later became the basis for King Arthur’s mythology.

St. Padarn displays same black on white symbols found on most R1b-L513 coat of arms centuries before Bretons claim it as their own. Image: ( CC BY-SA 3.0 )

Padarn’s search takes him to seven kingdoms. Padarn’s first visit is to Brycheiniog in Wales where King Caradoc Freichfras is named in Life of St. Padarn. The Pritchard surname is first recorded in 1521 with the name David Aprycharde, in the Oxford University Register. The surname derives from “son of” (or in Welsh, “Ap”) Richard. According to Hausegenealogy.com, his ancestry can be traced to Gwenllian, daughter of Brychan whose Dáirine tribe was from Ireland.

Gwenllian’s son is Caradoc Freichfras. In Life of St. Padarn , Caradoc becomes king of Broërec, Brittany. Caradoc’s family continue in Wales while a new line starts in Brittany which would eventually become Wilson.

Coat of arms of Pritchard (left) displaying Veneti symbols; reverse of Walkenline de Ferrers’ coat of arms (right), father of Henri de Ferres Breton-Norman-English ancestry who will eventually take the name of Wilson. Both Pritchard and Wilson are related before 500 AD [Both are from the same branch of R1b-L513]. Pritchard coat of arms source: Englishgathering.co.uk and de Ferrers’ Source: C ommons.wikimedia.org

According to Welsh studies another Dáirine kingdom is Dyfed where King Tryffin Ab Aled Brosc resides around 500 AD. Brosc’s lineage (according to Wales Genealogy records) produces the family name of Phillips [R1b-L513]. Phillips families are directly related to House of Aubigny of Brittany which develop Breton surnames.

Pillips source: Heritage Registry Genealogy; D’Aubigny source: CC BY-SA 4.0 )

A Welsh Arthurian Connection
Padarn then encounters the Venicones of North Wales. Padarn is not able to convert King Owain Ddantgwyn (Whitetooth) of Gwynedd to Christianity, but he is allowed to enroll Prince Maelgwyn to Cor Tewdws. Maelgwyn is named directly in Life of St. Padarn (and spelt “Maelgwn”) as the next King of the Northern Britons. Owain’s wife is Guenevere Lodegreaunce. Maelgwyn is also associated with the Arthur legend.

Left; coat of arms of Owen Tudor, (grandfather of Henry Tudor (King Henry VII – Veneti symbols on his coat. Source: CC BY-SA 3.0 ). The Tudor house of Wales is said to have originated with King Owain’s line. The family name of Tudor is similar to a lost university in Wales. Right; Ancestry.ca also associates Ross (Breton) and Rose (Welsh) families with Tudor. Both Ross/Rose are R1b-L513. (Coat or arms source: Scotclans.com)

In Padarn’s story, he travels to the land of Agam’s Cross where he overcomes Graban (as it is spelt). This perhaps refers to Dál Riata King Gabrán mac Domangairt in what is now County Antrim, Ireland. FTDNA Clan Donald’s Mark MacDonald first identified R1b-L513 as Dalriada signatures. This group established the Scottish kingdom of Dalriada in 470 AD. About a third of 400 family names have been identified as R1b-L513 Dalriadan.

Left; Ferguson crest, one of many Dál Riata R1b-L513 families. Note Veneti symbols at the base of the crown. Right; Dalriada flag represented in both Clans Campbell and MacMhathain (Matheson) [both R1b-L513]. Sources: Scotsconnection.com

Another name from Padarn’s tale, Terillan, is found in Irish Annals as King Tighearnán Sea llachan who is from a north-west Irish kingdom called Bréifne which display the same symbols and follows the same DNA patterns from Ireland to Brittany.

Following the same DNA markers, St. Padarn’s 7 th encounter is with Corcu Loígde, a small kingdom on Ireland’s southern edge. They pay no tribute to the larger Osraige Kingdom. They are a branch of Dáirine. This writer believes the “Dáire” name comes from Veneti’s capital city of Darioritum in Brittany, France as told by Julius Caesar. According to Táin Bó Flidais , this group is one of three warrior-tribes of Ireland.

 Does St. Padarn, DNA, and heraldry bring us to the Legendary King Arthur?
Irish Annals states Corcu Loígde’s king is Eochaid Apthach. Padarn’s tale speaks of one final adversary: a tyrant called Arthur who later will become a great admirer of Padarn. In another of Padarn’s stories the name Eithir map Arthat (in Welsh) appears. A surname traced from the 6 th Century from Corcu Loígde’s sub-tribe from Irish Annals is Mac Giolla Chiarain. This name will evolve to become Herron [R1b-L513].

Both Herron (source: Sandisulivan.com) and Hamilton (Source: Englishgathering.co.uk) family names are related R1b-L513 before 500 AD. Hamilton family research reveals it is of Breton-Norman-Scottish ancestry. Hamilton too has Veneti symbols inside the stars on its coat of arms.

DNA evidence suggests Veneti warriors along with other soldiers of kingdoms Cornwall and Devon, England “migrate” to what is now Brittany. This “Briton” force is a multi-national, Christian army re-claiming their ancestral territory.

In Padarn’s story Arthur traversed the countries on each side . Historians say this “migration” is the result of Britons fleeing Saxon invasion. However, Gary German at the Centre de Recherche Bretonne et Celtique says that’s not true. German states that according to three separate studies, these peoples were not fleeing Anglo-Saxons as is so often repeated in history books but were, in fact, invading Brittany.

 According to One World Tree, Myfamily.com and Ancestry.com, Nominoë’s line, Brittany’s first king, goes back to Bors and in 520 AD, Lancelot appears from his lineage. Nominoë’s ancestry would create the House of Dol in Brittany and later House of Stewart [R1b-L513] in Scotland.

But what surname comes closest to Eochaid Apthach, King of the Corcu Loigde ... King Arthur? As in King Arthur’s tale, his line ends with him. Yet, his brother, Duach, is recorded in two Irish sources: the Book of Ballymote and the Book of Lecan. Both were compiled about 1400 AD. From the pedigree chart, next to Eochaid’s name in red, the reader follows the right side of Duach’s family tree to a modern name which may send shivers down the spine. The modern name of Kennedy emerges. This name is another R1b-L513 family name.

Top image: King Arthur monument in Tintagel, Cornwall.(left) (Source: CC0), Excalibur in Brocéliande Forest, Brittany, France.(right)(Source: ( CC0)

By Anthony Murphy Barrett

A Tradition Revived? Inverted Christmas Trees May Have Pagan Roots

Ancient Origins

Hanging a Christmas tree from the ceiling makes some sense – it can keep your floor space clear and may protect your pets or young children from harm – but it is not common. The costly trend of hanging a tree upside-down is a whole other matter. As with many things that go against the norm, there is a lot of controversy and confusion about the practice of hanging an inverted tree from the ceiling. But it seems the idea is not a new one; in fact, the unconventional decorating idea may trace its roots, at least loosely, to pagan traditions.

 CBC News reports that inverted hanging Christmas trees can be found “dangling from the ceilings of exclusive hotel lobbies and public atriums from London to Vancouver.” It is certainly an eye-catching way to decorate for the holidays, but are the people who practice this method of tree-trimming really following a tradition from the Medieval period, or is the idea purely commercial?

An upside-down Christmas tree. Galeries Lafayette. (Laika ac/CC BY SA 2.0)

Followers of the upside-down Christmas tree practice say that it was a popular way of doing things in in the 12th century in Eastern Europe. Yet it is important to note here, the hanging element was generally just the top of a fir tree – not a huge, heavily decorated tree like you may find in a shopping center or luxury hotel today. In Poland, the top of the tree, or a branch from a fir tree, was hung pointing down from the rafters, usually facing the dinner table, in preparation for the holiday of Wigilia or Wilia. These decorative features were adorned with fruit, nuts, shiny sweets, straw, ribbons, golden pine cones, and other ornaments. An article by The Spruce says that the treats and sweets on the tree could not be eaten until the day after the festivities.

There is a legend that may explain the peculiar practice. The traditional story says Saint Boniface was the first to hang a “Christmas tree” upside-down, in the 8th century. Apparently, Boniface saw pagans preparing to celebrate the winter solstice by sacrificing a young man under an oak tree – a sacred tree in their beliefs. He was angered by their actions and cut the tree down. A fir tree grew in its place and Boniface supposedly decided to hang the inverted tree and use the triangular shape as a tool to explain the Holy Trinity to the pagans while trying to convert them to his religion.

Boniface chops down a cult tree in Hessen, engraving by Bernhard Rode, 1781. (Public Domain)

Some historians say that the tradition of hanging a Christmas tree was still popular in certain European countries as recently as 100 years ago. But the reason had changed by then. Bernd Brunner wrote in his book, Inventing the Christmas Tree, that people living in the 19th century needed the floor space. However, it’s worth mentioning that the tree was right-side up.

It seems the modern tree-hanging practice is meant to essentially serve the same purpose in stores. Dan Loughman, vice president of product development at Roman Incorporated, told NPR in 2005, “By having a tree upside down, you're taking a very small footprint on the floor, and you're placing all the ornaments at eye level. And then the retailers can move their store products around the bottom of the tree or on shelves, you know, just behind it.”

An upside-down Christmas tree is suspended from the ceiling at the Fairmont Vancouver Airport hotel in Richmond, B.C. (Darryl Dyck/Canadian Press)

The tradition of putting up Christmas trees may be tied to the German reformer Martin Luther, who popularized the use of the Christmas tree in 1605 after being inspired by the beauty of the stars on Christmas Eve night. Pine trees also used to have a place in ‘miracle plays’ that were performed in front of cathedrals at Christmas time –the Church eventually banned the practice, but the tradition of having a decorated Christmas tree has continued.

Top Image: An upside-down Christmas tree. Source: This is Why I’m Broke

By Alicia McDermott

What Exactly is the Holy Grail – And Why Has its Meaning Eluded us for Centuries?

Ancient Origins

Leah Tether / The Conversation

Leah Tether works at the University of Bristol. She received funding for this research from Anglia Ruskin University, Ghent University, Somerville College, Oxford and the Stationers' Foundation.

Type “Holy Grail” into Google and … well, you probably don’t need me to finish that sentence. The sheer multiplicity of what any search engine throws up demonstrates that there is no clear consensus as to what the Grail is or was. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t plenty of people out there claiming to know its history, true meaning and even where to find it.

Modern authors, perhaps most (in)famously Dan Brown , offer new interpretations and, even when these are clearly and explicitly rooted in little more than imaginative fiction, they get picked up and bandied about as if a new scientific and irrefutable truth has been discovered. The Grail, though, will perhaps always eschew definition. But why?

The Damsel of the Sanct Grael’ (1874) Dante Gabriel Rossetti. ( Public Domain )

The first known mention of a Grail (“un graal”) is made in a narrative spun by a 12th century writer of French romance, Chrétien de Troyes, who might reasonably be referred to as the Dan Brown of his day – though some scholars would argue that the quality of Chrétien’s writing far exceeds anything Brown has so far produced.

Chrétien’s Grail is mystical indeed – it is a dish, big and wide enough to take a salmon, that seems capable to delivering food and sustenance. To obtain the Grail requires asking a particular question at the Grail Castle. Unfortunately, the exact question (“Whom does the Grail serve?”) is only revealed after the Grail quester, the hapless Perceval, has missed the opportunity to ask it. It seems he is not quite ready, not quite mature enough, for the Grail.

The Holy Grail depicted as a dish in which Christ’s blood is collected. ( British Library )

But if this dish is the “first” Grail, then why do we now have so many possible Grails? Indeed, it is, at turns, depicted as the chalice of the Last Supper or of the Crucifixion or both, or as a stone containing the elixir of life , or even as the bloodline of Christ . And this list is hardly exhaustive. The reason most likely has to do with the fact that Chrétien appears to have died before completing his story, leaving the crucial questions as to what the Grail is and means tantalisingly unanswered. And it did not take long for others to try to answer them for him.

Robert de Boron, a poet writing within 20 or so years of Chrétien (circa 1190-1200), seems to have been the first to have associated the Grail with the cup of the Last Supper. In Robert’s prehistory of the object, Joseph of Arimathea took the Grail to the Crucifixion and used it to catch Christ’s blood. In the years that followed (1200-1230), anonymous writers of prose romances fixated upon the Last Supper’s Holy Chalice and made the Grail the subject of a quest by various knights of King Arthur’s court. In Germany, by contrast, the knight and poet Wolfram von Eschenbach reimagined the Grail as “Lapsit exillis” – an item more commonly referred to these days as the “Philosopher’s Stone”.

The Holy Grail depicted as a ciborium. ( British Library )

None of these is anything like Chrétien’s Grail, of course, so we can fairly ask: did medieval audiences have any more of a clue about the nature of the Holy Grail than we do today?

Publishing the Grail
My recent book delves into the medieval publishing history of the French romances that contain references to the Grail legend, asking questions about the narratives’ compilation into manuscript books. Sometimes, a given text will be bound alongside other types of texts, some of which seemingly have nothing to do with the Grail whatsoever. So, what sorts of texts do we find accompanying Grail narratives in medieval books? Can this tell us anything about what medieval audiences knew or understood of the Grail?

Sangreal. ( Arthur Rackham )

The picture is varied, but a broad chronological trend is possible to spot. Some of the few earliest manuscript books we still have see Grail narratives compiled alone, but a pattern quickly appears for including them into collected volumes. In these cases, Grail narratives can be found alongside historical, religious or other narrative (or fictional) texts. A picture emerges, therefore, of a Grail just as lacking in clear definition as that of today.

Perhaps the Grail served as a useful tool that could be deployed in all manner of contexts to help communicate the required message, whatever that message may have been. We still see this today, of course, such as when we use the phrase “The Holy Grail of…” to describe the practically unobtainable, but highly desirable prize in just about any area you can think of. There is even a guitar effect-pedal named “holy grail”.

Once the prose romances of the 13th century started to appear, though, the Grail took on a proper life of its own. Like a modern soap opera, these romances comprised vast reams of narrative threads, riddled with independent episodes and inconsistencies. They occupied entire books, often enormous and lavishly illustrated, and today these offer evidence that literature about the Grail evaded straightforward understanding and needed to be set apart – physically and figuratively. In other words, Grail literature had a distinctive quality – it was, as we might call it today, a genre in its own right.

 In the absence of clear definition, it is human nature to impose meaning. This is what happens with the Grail today and, according to the evidence of medieval book compilation, it is almost certainly what happened in the Middle Ages, too. Just as modern guitarists use their “holy grail” to experiment with all kinds of sounds, so medieval writers and publishers of romance used the Grail as an adaptable and creative instrument for conveying a particular message to their audience, the nature of which could be very different from one book to the next.

Whether the audience always understood that message, of course, is another matter entirely.

Artist’s interpretation of the holy grail. ( CC BY 2.0 )

 Top Image: The Achievement of the Grail. Source: Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery

 The article‘ What exactly is the Holy Grail – and why has its meaning eluded us for centuries? ’ by Leah Tether was originally published on The Conversation and has republished under a Creative Commons license.

8 things you (probably) didn’t know about King Arthur

History Extra

Illustration of King Arthur's coronation from the 13th-century Flores Historiarum. From The Island Race, a 20th-century book covering the history of the British Isles from the pre-Roman times to the Victorian era. Written by Sir Winston Churchill and abridged by Timothy Baker. (Photo by Universal History Archive/UIG via Getty Images)

 1) The once and future king
 Arthur, sometimes known as ‘the king that was and the king that shall be’, is recognised all over the world as one of the most famous characters of myth and legend. Yet, if he existed at all (which few scholars agree upon), he would not have been a king, but the commander of an elite force of fighting men. Furthermore, he would have lived more than 500 years before medieval legends suggest.

 All that is known, with even the least degree of certainty, is that a man named Arthur, or Arturus, led a band of heroic warriors who spearheaded the resistance of Britons against the invading Saxons, Jutes, and others from the north of Europe, sometime in the fifth and sixth centuries AD.

 Another theory claims that Arthur was a Roman centurion named Lucius Artorius Castus, who fought against the Picts [northern tribes that constituted the largest kingdom in Dark Age Scotland] on Hadrian’s Wall in the second century AD, some 300 years earlier than the time at which Arthur’s dates are normally set.

 Even Arthur’s birthplace and base of operations are questionable. Camelot – the castled city associated with King Arthur – was invented by the 12th-century French poet Chrétien de Troyes. Arthur’s association with Cornwall and parts of Wales is an idea fostered by 18th-century antiquarians such as William Stukeley, who carried out one of the first archaeological investigations at Cadbury Castle in Somerset, long believed in local folklore to be the original site of Camelot. 

Whatever the truth – and we may never know for sure – the adventures of the legendary King Arthur, with his Round Table Fellowship of Knights based in the mythical city of Camelot, were told and retold between the 11th and 15th centuries in hundreds of manuscripts in at least a dozen languages. “What place is there within the bounds of the Empire of Christendom to which the winged praise of Arthur the Briton has not extended?” wrote the 12th-century chronicler Alanus ab Insulis (or Alain de Lille). Today Arthurian stories are told in English, French, German, Italian, Spanish, Icelandic, Dutch, Russian, and even Hebrew.

 2) The Round Table
The Round Table is the centerpiece of the Arthurian world. According to the 13th-century poet Layamon, Arthur ordered the table to be built for him by a famous Cornish carpenter, who somehow made the table capable of seating 1,600 men (clearly an exaggeration), yet easily portable to wherever Arthur set up his mobile base of operations.

 Other stories suggest it was Merlin, the king’s magician, who made the table – “round” he said, “in the likeness of the world” – and who sent out a call to the bravest and truest knights to join a great fellowship whose task was to care for the disenfranchised (especially women), and who would do no harm to anyone who did not deserve it.

 Some 150 knights were said to have sat at the Round Table. Their adventures lead us into a magical realm of wonder: where ‘faery women’ test the nobility of the knights by offering them seemingly impossible tasks, and strange creatures lurk in the shadows of a vast forest, in whose depth are clearings where castles, chapels, hermitages, and ruins are found – some empty, others containing dangerous foes.

 When they had largely rid the land of monsters, dragons, and evil customs, the knights undertook their greatest task of all – the quest for the Holy Grail. Many did not return.

King Arthur and the knights of the Round Table, after a 14th-century miniature. From Les Artes Au Moyen Age, Published Paris (1873). (Photo by: Universal History Archive/UIG via Getty Images)

 3) Merlin
Merlin, Arthur’s advisor, appears in different legends as a magician, a prophet, a wildman, or a visionary poet. He is said to have helped bring about the birth of the future king by magically giving Arthur’s father, Uther Pendragon, the likeness of his rival, Gorlois of Tintagel, Duke of Cornwall, so that Uther could engender a child with Gorlois’ wife, Igraine. Once Arthur was born, Merlin is said to have carried him away to a secret location in the forest, and watched over him until he came of age. 

At this point, Merlin supposedly arranged the test of the Sword in the Stone, which only the true king could draw. This sword is often confused with Arthur’s most famous weapon, Excalibur, the legendary sword said to have magical powers. In fact that blade was given to Arthur later by the Lady of the Lake (a ‘faery woman’ who appears in the stories), after the sword from the stone breaks during battle.

 It is another such faery being, Nimue, the handmaid of the Lady of the Lake, who becomes Merlin’s nemesis: Merlin falls passionately in love with the beautiful damsel, who tricks him into giving her the secrets of his magic and then uses them against him, locking him forever in a cave from which, years after, ‘the cry of Merlin’ could still be heard.

 Merlin’s own origins are almost as difficult to establish as Arthur’s. A collection of poems, magical and mystical in nature, is attributed to a princely bard named Myrddin, whose British name was changed because of its unfortunate similarity to merde (excrement) in French. The 12th-century writer Geoffrey of Monmouth, who included Arthur in his History of the Kings of Britain (1138), also wrote a Life of Merlin (c1150), in which a sixth-century prince goes mad after seeing his nephews killed in battle and who hides in the forest, telling stories to a pet pig. Geoffrey clearly considered this was the same Merlin as the character included in his later History of the Kings of Britain.

 4) Faery women
Many faery women thread together the stories of Arthur and his knights. This is probably because a good number of the stories originated not in Britain, but in Brittany – or, as it was known then, Armorica or Aermorica, where belief in ancient deities and the faery race lived on. These faery tales became interwoven with stories of chivalry beloved by the courtly circle. Within the courtly circle these stories were told by roving troubadours – poets who learned dozens of Arthurian tales by heart. 

In c1150 Geoffrey of Monmouth named nine sisters in his Vita Merlini as the rulers of the enchanted island of Avalon. Among them was Morgen (more familiar to us as Morgan le Fay), who in later stories is described as Arthur’s half-sister and becomes his most implacable foe. Sir Thomas Malory, in his great 15th-century novel, Le Mort D’Arthur, tells us Morgan was “put to school on a nunnery, where she learned magic and necromancy”.

 Though this may sound odd to us today, many of the women in enclosed orders were learned, and since learning was frequently equated with magic, thus Morgan came to be considered a sorceress.

Geoffrey of Monmouth. Found in the collection of Mary's Priory Church, Monmouth. (Photo by Fine Art Images/Heritage Images/Getty Images)

 5) The grail
 The greatest task undertaken by Arthur’s knights was the quest for the grail, a mysterious vessel linked to the Passion of Christ [the story of Jesus Christ's arrest, trial, suffering, and eventual execution by crucifixion]. According to the 12th-century poet Robert De Boron, the grail was used to celebrate the Last Supper, and afterwards by Christ’s ‘uncle’, Joseph of Arimathea, to catch some of the blood that flowed from the Saviour as his body was taken down from the cross.

 Earlier stories, from the mythology of the Celts, can be seen as precursors of the grail: they spoke of “cauldrons of plenty” that provided food for heroes and could even bring the dead to life. But once the links with Christian belief were established in the 12th century, the grail became a holy relic sought by mystics and heroes – and, most famously, by Arthur’s fellowship.

 All 150 knights of the Round Table are said to have gone forth in search of the sacred vessel after it appeared at Camelot during Pentecost [a feast celebrated each year on the 50th day after the Great and Holy Feast of Pascha (Easter) and 10 days after the Feast of the Ascension of Christ]. Of those who went forth only three succeeded in their quest to find the grail: the saintly knight Sir Galahad, the simple Sir Percival, and the honest, plain-spoken Sir Bors.

 Many other knights perished, and this undoubtedly weakened both the Round Table and Arthur’s court, preparing the way for the dark days to come when Arthur’s illegitimate son Mordred rose up against him and ended the dream of Camelot.

 6) Lancelot and Guinevere
Love stories feature a great deal in the Arthurian world. Tristan and Isolde, for example, best known these days from Wagner’s 1859 opera that retold their story, were famous doomed lovers. But another story, originating in France, became one of the best known of the Arthurian tales: the love story of Lancelot and Guinevere.

 The 12th-century poet Chrétien de Troyes gave us an account of their romance in his Lancelot, or the Knight of the Cart (c1177). No stories before this feature Lancelot, so we must assume that Chrétien invented him. Lancelot became known as the greatest knight of the Round Table and Arthur’s most trusted ally, but it was his illicit love for Queen Guinevere that made him famous.

 Chrétien’s story tells a dramatic tale of Guinevere’s abduction by a lord named Melwas, who had fallen in love with the queen, and of Lancelot’s efforts to rescue her. In order to reach Melwas’ castle, where she is held, Lancelot is forced to ride in a cart – a vehicle reserved for criminals on their way to the gallows. But Lancelot hesitates for a moment, and when Guinevere learns of this this later on she spurns him as not worthy of her affections.

 Later stories extended Lancelot and Guinevere’s love into a full-blown affair, which in the end brought down the Round Table and ushered in the end of Arthur’s reign when Lancelot rescued the queen, who had been condemned to burn at the stake, and in the process killed several of Arthur’s knights. With the king reluctantly forced to attack Lancelot, the way was left open for Mordred to attack Camelot.

Scene from 'Mort d'Arthur', 14th century. Sir Lancelot of the Lake and Queen Guinevere seen embracing by King Arthur. (Photo by Ann Ronan Pictures/Print Collector/Getty Images)

 7) The death of Arthur
Weakened by the losses incurred during the quest for the grail, and then by the scandal of Lancelot and Guinevere, Arthur’s kingdom began to break apart.

 War broke out after Lancelot staged an armed rescue of Guinevere, condemned to death for her treasonous love for the great knight. In the heat of battle Lancelot killed two of Arthur’s best men, Gareth and Gaheris, who had defended the queen. Their brother, the famous knight Sir Gawain, thus became Lancelot’s most bitter foe, and as Arthur was forced to respond to Lancelot’s rescue of the queen, he reluctantly led an army to France to attack him.

 While Arthur and Gawain were away attacking Lancelot, King Arthur’s son, Mordred, raised an army and declared himself king. With the hasty return of the true king to Britain, a final battle took place at Camlann. Arthur killed Mordred, but suffered a wound that seemed likely to kill him – though in the end he was taken to Avalon to be healed.

 There follows one of the most famous scenes in the entire series of Arthurian stories: Arthur’s faithful follower, Sir Bedivere, throws the king’s mighty sword back into the lake from which it had come at the beginning of his reign (given him by the Lady of the Lake). A mysterious hand rises from the water and seizes the sword, drawing it under.

 A ship then appears, carrying three queens, who take the wounded Arthur away, across the sea to the fabled Isle of Avalon, where it is said he would be healed of his wounds and live on, awaiting recall by his country in time of need – the ‘once and future king’ indeed.

 8) Arthur’s bones
Belief in Arthur’s expected return to his country was kept alive in stories for many years by the people of Britain. Arthur’s bones were supposedly found at Glastonbury Abbey in 1191, though this was nothing more than a fabrication designed to quell the belief that Arthur would return to expel the invading Normans. Nevertheless, some bones were indeed interred in a black marble tomb in 1278 at the expense of Edward I.

 To this day, countless new books, films, television shows and plays continue to be created about King Arthur, adding to the popularity of the legends, which remain among the most familiar and best-loved stories of all time.

 John Matthews is a historian who has produced more than 100 books on myth, the Arthurian legends, and the history of the Grail. His latest book, King Arthur: Many Faces, One Hero, co-written with Caitlín Matthews, will be published by Inner Traditions in 2016.

Who Was St Dwynwen and How is She Associated with St Valentine?

Ancient Origins

February 14 is the day marked for lovers in many countries around the world, but in Wales there is another date traditionally associated with romance: St Dwynwen’s Day, January 25.

Dwynwen – pronounced [dʊɨnwɛn] – was the daughter of an early medieval king who became the Welsh patron saint of lovers. As you might expect, she has her own love story – although it’s not quite what we today would consider a romantic one.

As the earliest version of her tale goes, Dwynwen was deeply in love with a young man called Maelon Dafodrill, but when she rebuffed his premarital sexual advances, he became enraged and left her. Saddened and fearful, Dwynwen prayed to God, and soon enough her former suitor’s ardour was decisively cooled – he was turned into a block of ice. And for rejecting Maelon’s untimely advances, God allowed Dwynwen three wishes.

St. Dwynwen meets an angel. (FREE to use Clipart)

Her first wish was that Maelon should be defrosted at once. The second was that her prayers on behalf of “all true-hearted lovers” should be heard, so that “they should either obtain the objects of their affection, or be cured of their passion”. Her final wish was that she should never have to marry; she is said to have ended her life as a nun at the isolated church named after her, Llanddwyn, on the island of Anglesey.

Crosses on Llanddwyn Island. (CC BY 2.0)

Creating a Legend
Although it echoes other medieval saints’ lives, Dwynwen’s story only appeared for the first time in the writings of the self-taught polymath Edward Williams (1747-1826), better known by his bardic name Iolo Morganwg. Now Morganwg, depending on your point of view, was either a creative literary genius or a shameless forger. Either way, it seems certain that Dwynwen’s story is not medieval at all, but rather a product of Morganwg’s vivid imagination.

However, Dwynwen may well have been a real woman: she is mentioned in early genealogies as one of the numerous saintly daughters of the semi-legendary fifth-century king, Brychan Brycheiniog. Part of a Latin mass from the early 16th century states that she walked on water from Ireland to escape the clutches of the Welsh king Maelgwn Gwynedd – although fleeing to Ireland might have been a better plan.

The church of Llanddwynwen or Llanddwyn in the 18th Century. (National Library of Wales)

Our knowledge of the cult of Dwynwen is mainly based on two Welsh-language poems. The most famous was composed by medieval Wales’s greatest poet, Dafydd ap Gwilym, around the middle of the 14th century, and was certainly known to Morganwg. In it, the amorous poet calls for Dwynwen’s assistance as a “llatai”, or love-messenger, for him and his married lover Morfudd. Aware that his actions are, to say the least, morally dubious, Dafydd promises the saint that she won’t lose her place in heaven by helping the lovers. Indeed, ensuring that his back is at least metaphorically covered, he also calls on God himself to keep Morfudd’s interfering husband from interrupting the lovers in their woodland trysts.

The other poem, by the priest-poet Dafydd Trefor, dates from around 1500 and describes the pilgrims that thronged to her church to see her image and to seek restoration from her holy wells. Their offerings ensured that the church grew wealthy although Dwynwen’s fame – inevitably – receded after the Reformation. But she never slipped into complete obscurity.

An imaginary portrait of medieval Welsh-language poet Dafydd ap Gwilym. (Public Domain)

Modern Reworkings
Dwynwen’s re-emergence began in earnest when extracts from Morganwg’s manuscripts were published with English translations in 1848. As a result, her story slowly but surely gained a foothold in the Welsh imagination. In 1886, for instance, composer Joseph Parry wrote the music for “Dwynwen”, a rousing chorus for male voice choirs. And in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, Welsh newspapers in both languages would occasionally relate the story of the “Celtic Venus”.

 In the 1960s, as the commercialisation of St Valentine’s Day continued apace, the first St Dwynwen’s Day cards were produced in Wales. Yet unlike her ice-melting prototype, the modern Dwynwen proved to be a slow burner. Indeed, by 1993 a commentator stated that attempts to create a Dwynwen tradition were withering away.

St. Dwynwen Church ruins on Llanddwyn Island. It was originally built in the 16th Century. (CC BY 2.0)

But in the current century St Dwynwen’s Day is once more flourishing, bolstered by the media and the same kind of special offers that you see around St Valentine’s Day. And although St Dwynwen’s Day is more familiar to those who speak Welsh than to those who don’t, even this is slowly changing.

Does it say something about the passion of the Welsh that they have two days for lovers, Valentine – “Ffolant” as he is known in Welsh – and Dwynwen? Probably not. But the relationship between the two is revealingly ambivalent.

St Dwynwen’s day is in part a protest against the globalising commercialisation of St Valentine’s Day. But it’s also an attempt to find a place in the same marketplace for a distinctively Welsh product. It certainly shouldn’t be seen as a repackaging of St Valentine’s Day for a Welsh audience – that would be like marketing St David as the “St George of Wales”.

A colorful depiction of a modern Saint Dwynwen icon. (Everyday Nature Trails)

If you find yourself in Wales on January 25, do make the most of the opportunity to follow your heart’s desires. The only advice I’d give you is this: don’t call Dwynwen the “Welsh Valentine”.

Top Image: A representation of St. Dwynwen by Jonathan Earl Bowser. Source: Wild Eyed Southern Celt

The article, originally titled ‘How St Dwynwen wrongly became known as the Welsh Valentine’ by Dylan Foster Evans was originally published on The Conversation and has republished under a Creative Commons license.