Lailoken, or Myrddin, or Merlin

Six hundred years after the death of a wild man in the woods of southern Scotland, Geoffrey of Monmouth assembled some scraps of poetry written in the intervening years and added him to his History of the Kings of Britain as King Arthur’s right-hand man, Merlin.

Merlin dictating prophesies, c.1300

Merlin dictating prophesies, c.1300

There are several different sources in old Welsh literature for Myrddin, or as we usually spell it, Merlin. Some, referring to events in Wales itself, mention Merlin Ambrosius or Merlin Emrys, and these took place at the end of the Roman era. Others were linked to the Cymry of northern Cumbria, entangled as a by-line in the story of the Battle of Arthuret, which took place a couple of hundred years later. This Merlin was Merlin Wyllt, or Merlin Silvestris, or Merlin ap (son of) Madog Morfryn. Geoffrey of Monmouth’s response was to combine them all, and this has led to confusion ever since1.

It’s possible that the reason that there are a number of ‘Merlins’ in this period is that it was a job title for a top-class bard, or that it was nickname given to men in this position, or just a name common in families that produced many bards. We can certainly be confident that there were two separate men with this appellation in the early medieval period.

There are two Welsh Triads which list three bards. Those bards are Taliesin (who was Urien of Rheged’s bard), Merlin Emrys and Merlin, son of Madog Morfryn. The latter, like Taliesin, was from the town of Caerleon-upon-Usk in Wales; Taliesin was the court bard of Urien of Rheged, and Merlin ap Madog Morfryn had the same role at the neighbouring court, ruled by Gwenddoleu, in northwest Cumbria.

Merlin ap Madog Morfryn, like Urien and Gwenddoleu, was believed to be a descendent of the heroic Coel Hen (‘Old King Cole’). Madog ap Morfryn, Merlin’s father, is said to have fought with Arthur at the Battle of Camlann, and Merlin’s sister, Gwenddydd was the wife of Rhydderch Hael, King of Strathclyde.

The job of bard was not, as popularly imagined, to sing a lot whilst waving bells on a stick. A bard of this era was an educated poet, a journalist, part cheerleader, part PR man, a little bit prophet and a hint of priest. The poems of the Welsh bards are not just works of literature, but records of contemporary life. When Merlin worked with Gwenddoleu, he was in a highly-honoured position. He enjoyed ‘goodly possessions and pleasing minstrels and wore a torque of gold’2.

Merlin’s fortunes changed at the Battle of Arthuret in 573CE. His king, Gwenddoleu, lost this conflict against Rhydderch of Strathclyde and other northern Britons. Merlin fought in this battle, and later says that he killed his own niece and nephew, who were the children of his sister and King Rhydderch.

Two different sources tell us what happened next3, and here we also get a clue to Merlin’s personal name, if we believe that ‘Merlin’ was a job title or nickname: the Scotichronon calls him ‘Lailoken’. We’re confident that this is the same man described in the Red Book of Hergest and the Black Book of Carmarthen, because there is a very accurate description of the Battle of Arthuret. This Merlin says that ‘my reason is gone with ghosts of the mountain’4 and that he has lived for fifty years as a wild man in the Forest of Celedon (Caledonia). Here, he laments his losses and is pursued, understandably, by Rhydderch Hael’s men. He prophesies many events, including the death of Rhydderch Hael and his own demise by the ‘triple death’.

Merlin is assumed to have been pagan and not just because of the colloquial link between druids and bards. He worked for Gwenddoleu, a king said5 to keep man-eating eagles and to have a sacred fire, implying pre-christian fire worship, or sun worship. And yet Merlin is said to have asked St. Kentigern for absolution when he foresaw his death, which Kentigern reluctantly granted.

Back in the forest, Rhydderch’s men had caught up with Merlin. He was stoned, and, backing away, fell over a cliff into a shallow river. Here he was impaled on a fisherman’s stake, and finally drowned. The triple death had claimed its victim.

  1. To be fair to Geoffrey of Monmouth, he also wrote the Vita Merlini, which describes a Merlin far more like the Cumbrian Merlin. Unfortunately, this failed to counter the Arthurian Merlin described in the History.
  2. From the old Welsh poem, Afallenau (‘apple trees’) in the Black Book of Carmarthen.
  3. From the Scotichronon (based on the 14thc Chronica Gentis Scottorum and earlier sources) and The Conversation of Merlin and Gwendydd his sister from The Red Book of Hergest.
  4. The Conversation of Merlin and Gwendydd his sister from The Red Book of Hergest.
  5. Welsh Triads: Three Horses, Three Men who Wore Beards and Three Good Assassinations.

©Diane McIlmoyle

See Tim Clarkson’s Senchus blog for his view on a Cumbrian Merlin.

Here’s an attractive post from Celtic Sprite on Merlin’s Hill in Wales.

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32 Responses to “Lailoken, or Myrddin, or Merlin”

  1. I love your posts, so well researched, written with a clear enthusiasm for the subject and a pleasure to read! Having said that I’m so relieved my period is the 19th century, I would find the names and spellings of such beyond me. I do love the idea of Merlin and it’s great to attempt to put some flesh on the skeleton of the glimpses we have. Thank you!

    • Thanks, Fiona! I didn’t realise when I started looking at the earlier Cumbrian history that all the names would be Welsh! And then, with it being so long ago, of course there was no uniformity in spelling, and every source has a different combination of letters…

      I’m always slightly reticent about putting characters this strongly associated with the King Arthur stories on here, as so many people have made some very naff attempts to place the historical King Arthur (assuming there was one) right here, and I don’t believe that. But there was a bloke called Myrddin who lived up here, and who wrote poems about royalty, and was probably at the famous battle. As for the ‘other’ Merlin? I suspect all the history has been so tangled up with the completely-made-up stuff that no one would be able to really work it out. But he’s not in Cumbria, so I’m not worried about that!

  2. NIce article Diane.

    Just a couple of observations a comments: isn’t Merlin Emrys a mixture of Merlin and Ambrosius Aurelianus (Emrys Wledig)?

    The Forrest of Celidon may not be the Caledonian Forrest pe se, but a forrest near Caddon on the Scottish Borders. Caddon was recorded in 1175 as ‘Keledenlee’ and ‘Kaledene’ in 1296 (‘Welsh Origins of Scottish Place-names’ by William Oxenham, 2005) – my thanks to Phil over at Tim Clarkson’s Senchus blog for that information. This is the area where local tradition has Myrddin going to after going mad. It really looks as though either Kelidon (Celidon) or Kaledon (Caledon) got Anglisized to Keleden, Kaledene and that, possibly, this led to Ca(le)ddon. This is odd in itself as it seems to have gone back to ‘Welsh’.

    Mak

    • Hi Mak – I’m sure you’re right about the ‘other’ Merlin – I’ve never looked too hard at the ‘Welsh-Welsh’ Merlin, just the northern one.

      Thanks for the Caddon explanation. That sounds just right given that Longtown (and the Battle of Arthuret) are just around the corner from the Scottish Borders.

      Looks like I shall have to pop over to your blog ;)

  3. More and more tantalizing! The border of legend and history is a wondrous zone. Of course, the bards were the original spin doctors, keeping hidden what shouldn’t be accessible to the unscrupulous all the while teasing with scandal and satire. Thank you for sharing this and shining a light into a fascinating area.

    • Hah! A ‘wondrous zone’ indeed. So tantalising. It always reminds me of the old adage about TV advertising: that half of it works, but you don’t know which half. When you’re this deep into distant history, half of it is probably true and the other half… well, you get my point!

    • Not only were the bards spin doctors, we never know what’s come down through them and what through the storytellers … or what started with the storyteller and went to the bards … or what started with the bards and went to the storytellers and back to the bards … or …

  4. Thanks for the great site and all your work, and thanks to Tim “Senchus” for posting the link on his site that brought me here. Wonderful!

    Like you I haven’t spent much time looking at the Welsh Merlin/Myrddin. But an essay I’ve found useful in this regard can be found in the work “The Arthur of the Welsh”, (Bromwich, Jarman, Brynley) entitled: The Merlin Legend and the Welsh Tradition of Prophecy, by A O H Jarman. A thorough critical wringing of the literary sources thats directed my focus to the north whilst considering this shadowy character.

    • Ah, I’m always appreciative of Tim Clarkson who not only wrote a great book on my favourite topic but has been kind enough to mention my ramblings *all hail Tim!*

      Thanks for the tip on the Welsh Merlin. I do wonder how many of them there were – did people just keep adding epithets to the same two men, or were there a dozen or more? But that’s the beauty of ‘dark age’ history, isn’t it – there’s always another possibility…

      • Suffice to say, if Tolstoy’s “Quest for Merlin” casts a little dim flickering candle light onto the figures of Lailoken, Myrddin/Merlin, then Jarman snuffs that candle out. The wick is still glowing however, and it’s the figure of Lailoken that can still be sensed, just out of reach, beyond the horizon.

        Returning to Tolstoy’s Quest for Merlin and his point regarding the possibility that a “folk memory” of the association between “Myrddin/Lailoken” and the strathclyde/cumbria area, centered on the modern border around the M74/M6 corridor, may have been preserved long enough in local popular tradition for it to be the inspiration behind Guillaume Le Clerc’s placing of Merlin’s hideout there, in his 12th/13th century romance “Fergus of Galloway”. The directions provided therein certainly led Tolstoy to tender the idea that the topographical similarities between that described in the romance and the actual topography, being tangible enough for it to be considered a possibility.

        • Interesting that the topography fits, too. The thing that hooks Lailoken to this area for me is the convincing evidence that his boss, Gwenddoleu, was from northern Cumbria and the famous battle of Arthuret was indeed, in Arthuret. As to who/why/what Lailoken was, it would be great to find more evidence rather than forever re-hashing the old, but I guess that’s what we’re stuck with!

  5. I did hear a theory once, but for the life of me I can’t remember whose theory it was, that ‘Myrddin’ could have been a title, or job description … like ‘bard’. Something to do with guardians of the earth. Wish I could remember who said it!

    All hail Tim indeed!

  6. I believe Tolstoy, in “The Quest for Merlin”, forwards the idea of a title.

    In my fanciful musings on this enigma I’ve formed a view (one of several) that in the tale of Myrddin/Lailoken/ we maybe seeing a faint memory of the demise of Lug/Lot/Llew personified in the character Myrddin/Lailoken: The demise of aristocratic patronage, the time in the wilderness, rejection of efforts bring the wanderer in from the cold, a threefold death form where there is no return, unlike the wounded eagle restored in other mythical tradition. The churchman kentigern is after all, styled a grandson of Lot. Could this suggests a possibility that what we’re looking at a final conversion phase of the remoter reaches of the area? It’s a thought!

    • It IS a thought, and I agree with much of what you say. The alternative could be that the allegory of the conversion of the last bastion of paganism is a medieval christian interpretation of scraps of an older tale. We’ll never know, I guess.

      • Yes, “we’ll never know”, and mores the pity, but these early semi historical conundrums never fail to intrigue and inspire.

        Your alternative is what I’d like to think: a garbled tradition that reveals a brief glimmer of a historical character in a viable historical context. A character who belongs to what is now north west of england and the south west of scotland, but claimed by other regions which vigorously stake the claim. So much so that that Merlin maybe miss it’s never questioned (this last point is why the Jarman essay is important regarding the popular view of Merlin).

        I think it’s actually our desire to paint a historical portrait in which we place events and characters. This desire I think holds us back in our understanding of the dim and distant past, as we constantly have to work backwards, editing out previous misinterpretation and misrepresentation. This process is time consuming. The situation surrounding the “historical Arthur” debate is a prime example.

        Rather I think, we should be content with our myths, it’s far easier to find a historical context in which to place them, that we can then use to generate a mythical portrait, a portrait no less important than a shaky ever moving history. Some could argue from a cultural point of view that our myths are more important than the doings of dim and distant placed individuals. Our mythical characters often seem more enduring in the collective consciousness than many figures composed of flesh and blood.

        I think Arthur was a deity (so it isn’t beyond the realms of possibility that that original Merlin could be too, IMO) and there is a theory that Arthur had his shrine was on the other side of the pennines from you. The earliest poems and tales point to an existing body mythology in existence prior to the meddling by early middle age scribes.

        In favor of a historical Myrddin/Lailoken, is the fact that a preexisting body of myth/legend involving his wondrous exploits is absent, until we get to the early middle ages. Added to that is the placing in the Northern genealogies of his father as well as his patron, Gwenddoleu and one has to wonder why he would be used as the villain in the Life of Kentigern, if he were either non historical (or mythical)?

        What is certain, without doubt, is that the tradition of “Merlin the wild or Lailoken” as we have it, is that it’s not set in Wales or Cornwall, nor Brittany, but ancient Cumbria.

  7. Greetings from “Celtic Sprite”… thanks a lot for passing by and sharing your Arthurian knowledge with me…. Yes of course! I do know this lovely recount on Lailoken….There was also a late-15th-century story about Lailoken and Kentigern which states: “…some say he was called Merlynum”. It is also said that Myrddin Wyltt is particularly associated with the Battle of Arfderydd in Cumberland (now Cumbria) and the area just to the north, over the border in modern Scotland. Myrddin fought for the losing side and after the battle went insane.
    As you might suppose by now… I am a keen follower of the Arthurian Cycle, and I do love some of your posts which I would love to repost with links and credits to yours on Celtic Sprite…. Will you grant me the chance? It will be a honour to share them!….
    “he whoso pulleth out the sword from the stone and anvil, shall be the true king of all Britain”
    Peace and Light ☼

  8. I’ve waited all my LIFE for this. Thankyou! )O( X

    • You have? Blimey! Well, I’m glad you’ve found it, then :)

      There’s loads more info to be explored on Lailoken. I’ll get around to it eventually (although perhaps you’ll beat me to it – in which case please update me when you do!)

      Thanks for coming over.

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