Here Be Dragons II
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.
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.
Here Be Dragons
Part 1
A little while ago, two members of the Terroir North Wales team had cause to travel regularly from the Vale of Clwyd in the north of Wales to near Llandeilo in the south. Those familiar with the geography of Wales will instantly recognise that this was going to be a slow and circuitous journey whichever route the Terroir team chose. The eastern route generally passes through lower lying and more undulating country whilst the western passes largely through more mountainous terrain.
We had to invent something to pass the time. Perhaps a simple game of I Spy might have worked, but M for mountain, F for field, S for sheep, DSW for dry stone wall and TJ for Traffic Jam (and yes, we do occasionally have those in Wales), would get very repetitious. Coloured cars was a bit too infantile and railway bridges disappointing; guaranteed never to exceed low single figures.
And goodness, how very many forms there were: pictures and caricatures on buses, taxis, shopfronts, delivery vans, road signs and so on.
So many in fact that the game later evolved into categories – acceptable/valid images such as found on, say, Dragon Taxis, Dragon Auto Parts or patriotically flown Welsh flags (see top of this post), and unacceptable/inane dragon images, found on something having no real Welsh connection or relevance, eg some shopfronts, some buses and quite a lot of lorries. Of course this latter classification in itself caused debate, with points being awarded or lost depending on whether the opponent agreed or disagreed with the dragon spotter. Needless to say it created a fun activity to lessen the tedium of such a long and regular round trip.
Up to you to decide which category the following imges fall into.
The above are pretty easy to judge on the ‘valid or ‘inane’ decision, but why does the CCGC/CCW dragon (above centre) face the ‘wrong’ way?
Who decides which language should come first?
Welsh transport - old and new-ish.
Welsh groceries.
This led us to a discussion along the lines of ‘what would you get if a Welsh person asked a group of English people what they think typifies Wales, in one or two words (we are assuming that the English people have never, or rarely, visited the Principality)?
What would our blog readers suggest? We guessed that some of the more likely responses (in no particular order of course) would include mountains, coal mines, daffodils, leeks, rugby, unpronounceable place names (ok that’s three words) and, yes, dragons. So let’s have a look at these a bit more closely.
Mountains – yes plenty of those but contrary to popular belief, Wales has substantial areas of low lying land, especially in the east and parts of the south and south west. For example most of Pembrokeshire is very low lying and so is Anglesey of course.
Image above: the Rhondda Valley’s Glamorgan Colliery c 1920 © Terroir
In between those two areas there were positively no coal mines (though incidentally tiny coal mines did once exist, for a very brief period, in Pembrokeshire and on Anglesey).
Little trace remains today; the mines are all closed and the tips removed or regraded. The rows of terraced houses and the odd preserved headgear are all that reminds us of this industry.
Above: images of South Wales mining taken at the Blaenavon Big Pit National Coal Museum. ‘National’ means ‘Wales’ in this context. Note the red dragon flying proudly from the preserved pit head gear (above left). Images © Terroir
The daffodil seems to be a relatively late addition to Welsh symbolism and the precise reason for its adoption remains unclear. Maybe its Welsh name Cenhinen bedr (Peter’s leek) may have some bearing in so far as it has, to some extent, superseded the leek as an emblem of Wales. And, of course, it is somewhat easier to wear as a buttonhole, and considerably less pungent than the leek. Also the fact that by St David’s Day (1st March) there should be plenty of daffodils in flower, makes it easier to gather for the many events that take place on that day.
Place names tend to be strongly descriptive, based on history and/or topography, thus making it easier to understand their meaning.
Note from the only all-English member of Team Terroir: from the English perspective, I wish to challlenge the above. Depending on how you define a ‘letter’, the Welsh alphabet has 29 options of which, arguably, only 19 are in common with the English alphabet. As an English speaker not resident in Wales or the borders, and schooled in Latin, French and German, I can assure you that it is hard work to learn Welsh phonetics, alphabet and place names, however logical that pronounciation may be! Also, If you have never learnt any Welsh, having place names which are descriptive is no help whatsoever! Assistance is not always constructive: if I was to pronounce Llanfair PG as suggested by the transliteration given on the sign above I would be banned from crossing the border for ever more. Oh and the pronounciation differs between north and south…
Terroir North Wales continues: a Welsh person in England could be forgiven [really?] for struggling with English place names, as they often are not phonetic, or are pronounced differently to how they read, or include silent letters. [Do the Welsh forgive the English for mis-pronounciation of Welsh place names?] By way of example, how about Happisburgh in Norfolk (pronounced Hazeburgh), Cholmondeley (Chumley), Horsted Keynes (Horsted Kanes) but Milton Keynes is – well – Milton Keynes, Kirkby is Kirby and Norwich is Norich. I rest my case! [But not even the English can pronounce these. Well, most of us can manage Norich].
Dragons – and finally we reach that most Welsh of all Welsh symbols immortalised for ever on the Welsh flag as a spectacular and rather fearsome looking bright red creature (in Welsh – y Ddraig Goch), rampant on a white and green background. Never mind boring stripes and coloured bands found on most country’s flags - this is a serious and instantly recognisable national banner and one of only three in the world to incorporate a dragon (and in case you ask - the others are Bhutan and Malta). It is found everywhere as a symbol of Welsh patriotism and will be seen fluttering from public buildings, private houses and gardens – in fact anywhere it can be displayed – with an exponential increase in use when a major Welsh event is taking place in the locality (such as an Eisteddfod).
We’ll look more closely at the Welsh Dragon in the next post, but we leave you now with a Welsh and English take on the Dragon myth.
All images © T Thompson unless otherwise stated.