Legend has it that St.Brynach was bound for Ireland from Brittany when he was diverted by God’s will to heathen Wales. What an entrance he made on his arrival, floating up the Cleddau estuary, “on of all things” a ROCK.

There, this handsome man, caught the attention of the proud daughter of the local chieftain and she fell “head over heels” in love with him. When her advances were scorned by this chaste monk; well you know the saying “hell hath no fury like a woman scorned”, this young lady was no exception and sent her servant with his spear to punish Brynach.

Under the cover of darkness, Brynach escaped but the fleeing servant was attacked by a swarm of flying insects that had issued from the wound he had inflicted and was stung to death. Brynach bathed his wound in a nearby spring that apparently forever flowed red, hence its name Ffynon Goch.

After much travelling and many attempts, Brynach built his church and monetary at Nevern. He introduced agriculture to the people roundabout, teaching them to use wild stags to pull the plough as well as the milking of the hinds. His hand-picked cow give enough milk to sustain the whole monastery. The cow was shepherded to the pastures each morning, returned safely each evening by a wolf tamed by Brynach.

One day, a neighbouring king arrived with his men expecting to be fed, Brynach refused. The annoyed king ordered his men to kill Brynach’s precious cow and cook its entrails for supper. But no matter how the fire under the cooking pot raged the water in the pot refused to heat and the meat remained uncooked. The king and all his retinue were alarmed by the powers of this holy priest, begged for mercy. The magnanimous Brynach, returned the cow to good health and to the care of the tamed wolf, then displayed his miraculous powers by feeding his visitors, and what a meal. He picked loaves from the branches of the oak tree,the stones in the local river when plucked turned to fish and from the same stream he drew the wine. The king and his men ate to abundance, later slept well. In the morning the king praised the lonesome priest and promised that the monastery would be free from all taxes from that day forth.

St. Brynach was gifted with a unique stone cross by his close friend St. David. It stands near the entrance to his church and is known as the Nevern Cross. It is said that the first cuckoo to visit this country each spring lands on and sings from this cross.

St. Brynach died in the 6th century, having had great success with his missionary work in West Wales, where many churches are dedicated to his name and in isolated valleys, pathways, you will find many wells pay homage to his name.

May I suggest a visit to Pembrokeshire, I am sure you will find it worthwhile.

Thomas Jones, otherwise known as Twm Sion Catti, was born around about 1530, was the illegitimate son of one Catherine Jones of Tregaron. His father was supposed to be the local squire. It is thought that Twm enjoyed some formal education and progressed from a common thief to a clever conman.
He was Protestant by faith when Mary 1.,a catholic monarch ruled and he had to make an income as best he could and as he chose robbery as hi religion it had him marked out as a rebel already. He thus fled to Geneva to avoid the law. Returning after the ascension of a Protestant Queen, Elizabeth 1. who pardoned him for his earlier thieving. He became known for outwitting law abiding people and criminals alike. Eventually after a colourful career as an outlaw he married the Lady of Ystrad-Ffin, enjoyed her love, wealth and position, becoming a magistrate and Mayor of Brecon
In later years, his life was devoted to Welsh history and literature. Copies of his poetic works are to be found in the British Library. he was ordained a Bard of the Welsh Eisteddfod and was described by his contemporaries as “the most celebrated Herald-Bard of his day”
However, he is best known, mostly enjoyed for his escapades in his younger days which are widely recounted in oral tales,strip cartoons, plays and biographies. These adventures are joyfully told throughout Wales. One such story was when a poor friend asked him to steal a pot for him. Twm went to the local merchant, who showed him several pots, claiming there were none better. Twm declared there was a hole in one of them, when the ironmonger held it up to the light to examine it, Twm flipped it over his head, joking that ” if there’s not a hole in it, how have I such a big stupid head in it?” During the distraction the poor man made off with a pot of his choice.
On another occasion, Twm met an old man on his way to market to sell his best black cow because he had no money. He promised to help the old man get the £10 he wanted for the beast. A prosperous but mean local farmer waited until the end of the day before offering only £5 ,with little prospect of getting anymore the old man reluctantly agreed. Don’t worry said Twm, you will get the rest of the £10 tomorrow. During the hours of darkness he visited the rich farmer’s fields reclaimed the black cow, taking it the next morning back to the market for the old man to sell again. But this time with the help of a tin of paint the black cow had a white end to its tail. The mean farmer returned to the market for the second day looking for another cheap bargain, saw the old man and once again waited until the end of the day and offered £5 against the asking price £10. The old man readily accepted and with Twm walked away from the market with big smiles on their faces
Stories, the like of these, have spawned the legend of Twm Sion Catti as the Welsh Robin Hood. Where as many other stories show his thefts only to be of self benefit, like when Twm a master of disguise, dressed as a beggar when a pursuing farmer called at his mother’s house, enquiring about a bull that Twm had stolen. The so called beggar offered to hold the farmer ‘s horse whilst he entered the house.. Twm discards the beggar’s cloths, jumps on the horse, gallops off to tell the farmer’s wife that her husband is n trouble, needs money urgently and has sent Twm to fetch it with the horse to prove that the message really came from the farmer. The wife pays up. Twm now in possession of the farmer’ s horse and money hastily departs for London, later selling the horse.
Another tale recounts when Twm was staying at an inn overnight,learns that other people are planning to rob him of a large sum of money that he is carrying. So he rumours untruthfully that the money is in the pack saddle of his horse. Later when stopped by the highwayman Twm throws his saddle into the middle of a pool. The highwayman wades in to retrieve the empty saddle, Twm takes the opportunity to make off with the highwayman’s horse and his loot.
There are many more tales of this famous bandit who became much loved by the people of Wales. These stories describe him as an outlaw, conman, a Robin Hood, bard, genealogist,magistrate and mayor. From a poor illegitimate son to a pillar of society, he can certainly be described as a success.

In times of the medieval, according to a script written in Latin, the island enjoyed the reputation of producing more grain than all the other regions of Wales. It was said when crops failed elsewhere it could supply the rest of Wales. Hence in those times it was called in Welsh ‘ Mon Mam Cymru’ which means ‘ Mona Mother of Wales’.
These Latin writings also spoke of another smaller island, close to its shore, almost adjoining it. Here a group of hermits lived, dedicated to religious service. When quarrels broke out amongst them ,small mice would appear, eat their food, what they could n’t eat they would deface. As soon as the arguments were resolved the mice would disappear. women were never allowed on this island. It was called Ynys Lannog which translates to Priests Island.
Gerald of Wales, a renown scholar priest of this time whose writings they were, also told of a mysterious stone found on Anglesey that w as the size and shape of a man’s thigh bone.It had the extraordinary property that however far it was carried it returned on its own accord the following night.This mysterious property was often proved true by the local people, like when the Lord of the Island, the Earl of Shrewsbury, to test it, had it chained to another much larger stone and dumped far out to sea. Early next morning it was found back in place, the Earl then made a public edict that it was never again be moved. That did n’t stop a countryman attempting to test the power, strapping it to his leg, his leg turned gangrenous before the stone returned to its place.
As Geraldus Cambrensis said in these writings the island is worthy of our attention and there is much mystery to be found here. I have tried to feature just a few., where as my favourite story of this island is not of the medieval but just after the English Civil War.
It is the tale of a famous highway person in the name of Einir Wyn or Madam Wen of Anglesey. She had once been wealthy Royal heiress, whose family land and fortune had been confiscated by the Roundheads during the Civil War.Einir Wyn in her determination to restore the family fortunes turned to a life of smuggling and stealing. She had her own ship for smuggling and a bunch of accomplices for highway robbery, In the rocks of Llyn Traffwi, there is reportedly Madam Wen ‘s cave. the locals claim it has an underground chamber where she stashed her booty. One legend tells of Madam Wen in a chase across the snowy countryside, the Excisemen in hot pursuit following her horse’s tracks in the snow. Little did they know, she had re-shod her horse so that their shoes pointed backwards. The trail led the Revenue round in circles back to their starting point.
To this day locals claim to see her restless ghost swimming to escape in the lake and also riding as though being chased along the sands of Rhosneigr Bay.

This is obviously an island worth a visit, not only for its history and way out mystery but for its scenery including the vaunted artists views of the Menai straits with the Snowdonia Mountains

In this posting, we are recalling one of the eleven stories of The Mabinogiion, first found in the written form in the fourteenth century although told in the oral tradition of the Welsh storyteller centuries earlier.
It mingles fantasy with chivalry in a world of mystery and magic.

Macsen Wledig( Wledig or Gwledig translates as ruler or prince) was Emperor of Rome falls asleep ,has a dream. In this dream he crosses high mountains, journeys down great rivers, sails over treacherous seas to a far away island.There in grand castle he sees and falls in love with the most beautiful of maidens. He wakes up is distraught with the loss of his love and neglecting all else he pursues the lovely maiden seen in his dream. He eventually finds her in the Island of Britain, her name is Elen, the daughter of a Welsh Chieftain and she becomes his bride. At her request he builds her castle homes nn the North and South of Wales, also to please her he bestows the kingdom of the Island of Britain on her father. Being away for so long, Macsen is disposed of as Emperor and the people of Rome elect a new Emperor. On hearing of this Macsen accompanied by his armies marches to and lays siege to Rome. After more than a year he was no nearer to winning than on the first day. At that time Elen’s brothers Cynan and Gadeon came to visit the Empress. Whilst watching the assault on the city they decided they could do better with their small band of kinsfolk, having no respect for truces or the like, when the two Emperors held a cease fire to eat. Cynan and Gadeon using ladders climbed the ramparts of the city, slayed the new Emperor with his men and reclaimed the city for Macsen. All Rome then paid homage to Macsen Wledig and Elen beseeched him to reward her brothers for their bravery, this hedid giving them armies and land. The two brothers on their way home conquered all before them.This included Brittany, where supposedly they killed all the men, but the women they lefy alive. But to prevent corruption of their language they cut out their tongues and the women’s prodigy became known as Britons.

The unabridged version of this tale in The Mabinogion is full of praise and superlatives for the castles and scenery of Wales and the definitive translation by Gwyn and Thomas Jones is very much worth a read

Imagine, a French invasion force, armed with swords, guns and cannons, mistaking a few hundred Welsh women dressed in their traditional scarlet shawls and tall black bonnets for British army redcoats.
It happened in the late seventeen hundreds. We had been at war with France for a few years and an attack on one of our big ports, like Bristol or Liverpool was expected. So the folk of Fishguard in West Wales were very surprised to discover one morning that the French had landed on the small beach of the village of Llandnda, just a few miles away.
After the soldiers had disembarked, anticipating little resistance in that remote part of Britain, the fleet returned to France and reported a successful landing. However the enemy had not taken into account Jemima Nicholas.
The people, on learning of the landing were very frightened, some hid behind locked doors, others fled to the hills. But not Jemima Nicholas, the local pipe smoking cobbler, known in Jemima Fawr (big Jemima) in her local pub, “The Royal Oak”, where it was said she could out drink and out wrestle most of the men. Wearing her scarlet shawl and tall black bonnet, brandishing a pitch fork, sought out the invaders, capturing twelve French soldiers and jailing them in the local church. Then marshalling the women of the town, all dressed in their traditional scarlet shawls and black bonnets, armed with pitch forks, she marched on the French. They were by now full of wine from their looting and on seeing this vast array of red and black, thinking they were out numbered by the British army, fearing for their lives, they laid down their arms and surrendered. When the militia arrived after more than a days march, the last invasion of our shores was over and the subdued only wanted to negotiate a truce.
Jemima was a heroine and in gratitude for her brave actions was awarded an annual pension of £50 which she never failed to collect until she died aged 82 years.
When you next go to beautiful West Wales, visit Fishguard and enjoy the 100 ft tapestry created by local women, said to rival the famous Bayeaux Tapestry. A section of which portrays Jemima’s single handed capture of 12 French soldiers

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This story was written in Latin in the 12th century by the Archdeacon of Brecon, Gerald Cambrensis in his book ‘Journey of Wales’. This son of a Norman Baron and a Welsh woman was travelling through Wales withe Archbishop Baldwin, raising support for the Crusades, when he learnt of this tale told by a man named Elidyr.
Elidyr when a boy was being educated for the priesthood.He was slow to ‘learn hi letters’ and his teacher regularly chastised him. After one such beating, he ran away to avoid further caneings and hid in a hollow alongside the Neath river. After a few days, still hidden under the river bank, tired and hungry when two dwarf like men appeared, “if you come with us,” they said, “we will take you to a land of playtime and pleasure”. He agreed and followed them through a dark underground tunnel to a most attractive country full of riches, whose people where small but extremely attractive. Elidyr was welcomed by the King of these people who sent him to play with his son. During his stay in this land, he learnt that they hated untruths more than anything else and whenever they came back from our world they spoke with disdain at our deceits, our selfish ambitions and our infidelities.
He frequently returned to our upper world, at first he was accompanied,but later, enjoying their trust he came alone. Each time he came home he told his mother of the riches that abounded in this underworld land and she would plead that the next time he bring back a present of gold. To please his mother, Elidyr stole the golden ball used when playing with the King’s son. He hurriedly returned to his mother’s house with the same two men in hot pursuit. Just as he reached the end of the tunnel, he tripped, fell over, the gold present intended for his mother slipped from his hands and the two little men who were at his heels reclaimed the ball,showing him much scorn and contempt as they made off with it. Elidyr got to his feet, feeling full of shame at what he had done, wanting to make amends he made his way back to the river to where the underground passage had been but it was not be found. For more than a year, full of remorse he searched the river bank for the magical entrance, but to no avail.
He eventually returned to his studies and became the priest Elidorious