In their previous Dragon post, Terroir North Wales considered symbols of Welsh-ness and debunked a few myths about daffodils, mountains and coal mines.  The Welsh dragon, symbol of strength and courage was, however, shown to be a consistent symbol of Welsh identity.  So let’s take a closer look. 

Welsh dragons populate all parts of the Principality, in a multitude of locations and venues and in all shapes and sizes. Some are traditional, some fierce, some apparently friendly, some are caricatures or abstract and some are just plainly and intentionally comical.

So what is the background to this mythical beast in Welsh culture?

Image © Hefin Owen https://www.flickr.com/photos/47515486@N05/50587033677/

In the Mabinogion, for example, (the first written collection of ancient Welsh tales and folklore), the Welsh dragon appears in a story of the brothers Lludd and Llefelys.  Our dragon is battling with an invading white dragon (English of course) at Dinas Emrys, an area that we now know as Beddgelert in north west Wales.  Gwytheyrn, a fifth century King of the Britons, tries to build a fortress here (it’s a long story), but a little lad named Emrys, popularly thought to be the juvenile Merlin of Arthurian fame and fortuitously present at the time (maybe on holiday from the eighth century version of Hogwarts), advises him to dig up the squabbling dragons which are below the proposed fortress site.  Gwytheyrn does the digging and is able to witness the red dragon defeat the white dragon, which is summarily despatched back whence it came. Presumably it skulked off with the dragon version of its tail between its legs, no doubt intent on wreaking havoc in some part of England instead.

Now dragons are found everywhere. Apart from on the ubiquitous buses, shops and road signs, dragons have appeared in a multitude of other places. A train which shuttled between Rhyl and Llandudno for many years was known as the Red Dragon and proudly displayed a headboard to confirm its identity (see previous post) .  

Welsh War memorials also feature the courageous dragon. The Memorial Park in Ypres has a large dragon (below left) as its focal point, standing proudly on a Celtic style cromlech, in memory of Welsh soldiers and members of Welsh regiments who lost their lives in World War One. At Mametz Wood (nrthern France), David Petersen’s sculpture (below right) stands on a stone plinth, clutching barbed wire, in memory of the 38th (Welsh) Division during the first Battle of the Somme.

Image left: © Llywelyn2000 https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Red_Dragon_of_Wales_at_the_Welsh_Memorial_Park_Ieper_%28Ypres%29_Parc_Coffa%27r_Cymry,_Gwlad_Belg_31.jpg

Image right: © The First World War poetry Digital Archive, University of Oxford

In modern times there remain good and bad dragons. The classic baddie to end all baddies must be the dreaded Smaug from Tolkien’s The Hobbit. This really was a nasty specimen given to mass destruction on an unparalleled scale.

At the other end of the dragon spectrum is the lovable Idris and his family (partner Olwen, and their adorable children Blodwen and Gaian) who feature in the delightful stories of Ivor the Engine. Whilst primarily a series of children’s books, Ivor and his friends have a massive adult fan club. Ivor, his driver Jones the Steam and the stationmaster Dai Station, all reside at the fictitious Merioneth and Llantisilly Rail Traction Company which, as the books point out, is located in the top left hand corner of Wales.  

Briefly, Idris hatched from an egg placed in Ivor’s firebox and later resides in an extinct volcano on Smoke Mountain.  The books follow Idris’s adventures as well as those of Ivor, Jones, Dai and a whole host of other wonderful characters. Now these really are the sort of dragons that we would all love to have living in our multifuel stoves or centrally heated sheds.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ivor_the_Engine

Dead and broken trees, branches and stumps can also assume remarkably convincing shapes of dragons or other mythical beasts.  Up in the mountains of Snowdonia (now officially known as Eryri by the way) the wind and the cloud and maybe the failing light can deceive your logic with a host of strange noises and movement. Suddenly a rock can assume the form of a dragon and the swirling mist and low cloud can exacerbate that impression. But, of course dragons don’t really exist …. or do they?

Footnote:

Medieval mapmakers supposedly inscribed the phrase ‘Here be Dragons’ on maps showing unknown regions of the world. What does that say about Wales?

All images © T Thompson unless otherwise stated.