'I don't believe there is an ISLAND OF AVALON but I know where it is'
(Part One)

Over the years knowledge gained, spin spun, interpretations interpreted yet, the debate rages as to the location of the mystical island of Avalon that emanated from the Arthurian legends.

James Bonwick, an Englishman, who moved to Australia, over a century ago wrote the book, 'Irish Druids and the old Irish Religions'. (Still available) He states, 'The Welsh Avalon, or the Island of Apples, the everlasting source of the Elixir of Life, the home of Arthur and other mythological heroes, lay beyond Cardigan Bay, the Annwn of the old sun, in the direction of Ireland'. It is interesting to note the references by Bonwick to Avalon, but, based on a reasonable rationale, can his prognosis on the location of Avalon be believed? If one wanted to prove the validity of this mysterious island 'beyond Cardigan Bay' one could use Bonwick's observation as 'jolly good evidence' but the evidential path that took Bonwick to his conclusion is littered with assumptions.

I, like most people, believes in facts. It is fascinating to read works of esteemed, academic, professorial researchers and authors who examine and attempt to 'prove' certain facts from books written down centuries prior, then going into most expansive of investigations, attempt to prove particular theories. It is the case in point when dealing with Arthurian authors who look at other authors in depth to prove points, even though their target book is constructed a long time after the original subject. A police detective always starts at the beginning of an enquiry, not a convenient or more interesting place further along the interrogatory trail.

The investigation of course is to find out if an Island of Avalon ever existed and if the evidence points to it's existence, where is it? If the evidence reveals that it did not exist, or at least extremely doubtful, then where did the original author get his ideas from? Perhaps he had an island in mind, this we can look at also. To do that we have to get into his mindset in the 12^th century. Not an easy task.

The name Avalon is encountered in every corner of the modern world. The name fronts companies as diverse as financial investments to laundries, from entertainment centres to hotels, from record labels to 'care homes'. It has a powerful resonance seemingly conjuring up feelings of well-being, strength and trustworthiness.
For example many researchers disseminate 'Mort d'Arthur' by Mallory (1485ad) for clues to the original Arthurian legends hoping to rubber-stamp a particular theory or opinion. The book was written almost one thousand years after the alleged events, it is akin to one of us, even in today’s Information Technology era, writing and making up personal and complex stories of hero's and heroine's of the mid 11^th century.
John Matthews who edited a superb compilation of Mallory's 'Mort d'Arthur' said this, 'Beginning with a few brief references in the early poetry of Wales, the burgeoning stories of Arthur developed into a tradition of courtly epics, composed by French 'conteurs' and 'trouveres' in the eleventh and twelfth centuries. These were followed in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries by huge story cycles which built the character of Arthur into a figure of nobility and power, promoting him from an heroic pagan to a mighty Christian King'.  (tbc)

The Lost Lands of Wales in Cardigan Bay.

The 'Byrds' rendition of Pete Seeger's 'The Bells of Rhymney' on their album 'Tambourine Man' have often been taken as a song about the undersea lost church bells, but the words probably refer to Idris Davies' poetry re the destruction of the 'green valley' villages in South Wales by industrialisation. This short narrative is one of two stories of a similar theme attached to Cardigan Bay in Gwynedd. The story is the latter one of the two and explains how a realm was lost to the sea through debauchery and drunkenness. Some say they have seen traces of walls and roadways under the sea at Cardigan Bay, they can be seen at low tide and may have given rise to the legend of the 'Lost Lowland Hundred'.  It is fact though at the lowest tides of the year many people today observe the stumps of trees indicating the Irish Sea was once a forest with today's Wales and Ireland being 'one' land. 

'Many centuries ago in the area where the river Dyfi (Dovey) meets the Irish Sea, a great kingdom stood far out in the low lying land. The kingdom was called Cantref y Gwaelod and its many towns, farms and gleaming cities were protected from the sea by a series of sluices and dams.

The area was ruled over by a Prince called Gwyddno, who had ruled well for many years. In fact he had been so successful that the kingdom enjoyed a great period of prosperity, and the Prince and his subjects were want to overindulge in the more pleasurable aspects of life. As time went on the drinking, parties and wanton debauchery were the talk of the whole of Wales.

During this time the man in charge of up-keeping the solid defences against the sea was called Seithenyn. He was a Prince of Dyfed, and a man of high status in keeping with the importance of his task. At first he was diligent in all aspects of his role, but as time wore on he became addicted to the pleasures of the Court, in a state of drunken stupor most nights as well as much of the day, he began to neglect his duties. In time the dams became weather beaten and crumbling, and the sluices began to stiffen with rust. Many parts of the defences became leaky and with every pounding tide of the winter the dam became weaker.

One man began to notice the decay and the danger from the ever-encroaching sea. His name was Teithryn, and he was in charge of the Northern stretches of the dyke. While his vigilance in tending the Northern dams ensured they were sound his fears were ignored by courtiers, too busy with the nights entertainment to worry about the grumbling of a dam keeper.

Seithenyn also ignored his fears, he was by now a hopeless drunkard and in no fit state to be in charge of such a weighty responsibility.

One day in the depths of winter during the highest tides of the season, Teithynin, who was well versed in weather lore, saw the warning signs of a gigantic storm brewing. That night during the inevitable feasting, Teithryn drank very little and for the last time tried to warn the people of the approaching disaster. They laughed at him and told him to enjoy himself and stop worrying about something that could never happen.

When he knew there was little time left, he went to the safety of high ground, and left the courtiers in their drunken stupor.

When the hurricane came it was the most furious in living memory, it brought before it a huge storm surge which swept over the dam as one great wave. Seithenyn cursing and shouting at the waves ran at the water with his drawn sword in an attempt to send back the waves, he was drowned instantly by a mighty weight of water.

The whole of the kingdom vanished beneath the waves that night, out of the thousands of people only a few escaped. As well as Teithryn the vigilant Northern keeper, Gwyddno and a few of his subjects managed to drag themselves to shore, they lived in poverty for the rest of their lives lamenting their selfish ways'.
Borth on the Irish Sea coast in Wales is the place to observe at very low tides the remnants of 'the lost lands of Wales'. 

The Origins of the word Excalibur

THE ORIGINS OF A WORD

'EXCALIBUR'

Geoffrey of Monmouth (circa 1100 to 1150ad) had no idea what he was unleashing on the world with the introduction of his Arthurian mystical place-names and items.
We can get some idea of Geoffrey's knowledge and storyline composition from a famous icon he has given us, a name that likewise has gone down into world dynamic folklore, 'Excalibur'.
The accounts of the 'Lady of the Lake' holding Excalibur high out of the water, or the sword being pulled from the stone by a great King are deeply ensconced in our minds. The investigation into how, why and when the sword Excalibur was introduced into the Arthurian world is complex in the extreme.
If we go back to Geoffrey's times, the mid 12^th century, perhaps it was not so complex. Most folk tales would have been passed down via word of mouth over the centuries, embellishments to the tales being almost mandatory to enhance the powers of the stories. The church held sway and dominated the medieval mind with it's propaganda and mind control. It was a time where most ordinary people believed in fairies, witchcraft and other such entities. Easy pickings for a the powerful who could read and write, especially church seniors, monks and royalty. Geoffrey needed a powerful practical representation to weave into his Arthurian storyline and the idea of a magic (or at least, symbolic) sword may have and indeed did, fit the bill.

'Caledfwlch', from very early Welsh folklore, seems to have been symbol he chose. The name is similar to Cornish and Breton pronunciations. (It is said that the name Cornwall originated from 'Corn' (Horn, as in Unicorn, therefore, one horn) and Wallis. (The origins of the word Wales, virtually meaning foreigner) At one time Cornwall may have been named as West Wales also, but once again that is subject to debate and certainly not a proven fact. Geoffrey appeared to have 'latinised' the word 'Caledfwlch' to 'Caliburnus' in his story constructions, this fact being generally accepted. The word had emanated from Welsh folk lore commonly known as 'The Mabinogion'. It is not to far a change to reconstruct the word into the French or other languages as Excalibur. (Excalibur...) The early Welsh language dissection of the word 'Caledfwlch' brings us to 'caled' meaning hard and 'bwlch' meaning breach or cleft.
It seems most languages in the world know of an Excalibur sword, the word being spelt in various ways but generally staying within the sounds of the original. If we start the Excalibur tale from the point of the first mention of the the stone legend where King Arthur was successful in removing it, we arrive at the writings of Robert de Boron, a late 12^th century early 13^th century French author. It was Robert who took our tale of Avalon (first mentioned by Geoffrey) and put it in Glastonbury. He also was the first person to turn the grail of Wace's 'Percival de Gallois' into the Holy Grail evolving into the cup that Joseph of Arimathea obtained the blood of Jesus Christ. The stories emanating from Wales were fast becoming the stories of the great French romantic and chivalrous authors who soon attached other wondrous and mystical elements to the narratives.