It is Saint David's Day and I can't think of better words than Jan Morris in a 'Matter of Wales', who wrote of my most favourite place on Earth...
"The holiest Welsh place is Dewisland, Pebidog, a stony protrusion from the coast of Dyfed, which was once a spiritual hub of the whole Celtic world. Not only does the countryside there seem holy by its very nature, so ascetic but so exciting, all bare rock and heather headland falling to the wild Atlantic sea, but its associations too are intensely sanctified. Here the Celtic missionaries came and went, on their journeys through the western seas, and here the itinerant Irish preachers landed on their way to evangelize a pagan Europe. Everywhere there are the remains of shrines and chapels, - neither the Welsh nor the Normans ever fortified the peninsula, in respect for its sacred meaning; and in the middle of it stands the most venerated structure of all, the cathedral of Dewi Sant, St.David, not only the mother church of Welsh Christianity, but the vortex of all that is holy in Wales".
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| St.David's Cathedral. Creative Commons |
Facts or fiction? 2008
He was known traditionally as The Waterman as he and his monks were ascetic teetotallers and vegetarians. He is associated with over 50 churches in South Wales, most in the south west, Glastonbury was also claimed to have been founded by David. And another tale tells that it was Arthur who allowed Dewi to move his see and that soon after Arthur's death, David died in 544 aged 82 and he was honourably buried by Maelgyn Gwynedd.
February 28th is St.David's Eve and one of the favoured nights for the Cwn Annwn (hounds of Annwn, the Underworld) to take to the skies. They race and howl across the firmament, souls of the damned they hunt for more souls to feed the furnaces of hell. Sometimes they are seen as huge dogs with human head - a pre-christian belief that lasted in rural Wales until the 19th C.
in the Gwaun valley in Pembs.
Old St.Davids Day (March 12th) was the time when the wax candle on the table was replaced by a wooden one, signifying that supper could be eaten without candlelight - the end of the winter months.
As he did only drink what crystal Hodney yields,
And fed upon the leeks he gathered in the fields
In memory of whom, in each revolving year,
The Welshmen, on his day, that sacred herb do wear.
Another story says that it was St.David's spirit who convinced the Welsh to wear a leek, so that they could be distinguished in the battle on Hatfield Moors in 633.
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His mother was Saint Non and her chapel can be found here on the cliff top. Saint David was supposedly born in the centre of a stone circle and whilst a storm raged outside the storm everything was still inside.
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Saint Non's medieval chapel
Sanctity: Would you find it here on this ground, you can see the little bell tower of the chapel protruding above the hill and I have a poor photo of the inside dedicated to three saints. Saint Bridget, Saint Non, and Saint Bridget, all Celtic saints.
There are many legends that surround Saint David, stories that mingle both Christian and Celtic tales. A cold winter's night, a warm fire, who would not want to listen to those tales of long ago. Slightly stretched by the imagination, flavoured with the new God, but there was a miracle spring that gushed forth on the birth of David. Believe that if you will.
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