Mother of the Korrigans

The most commonly found supernatural creatures in the folklore of Brittany are the korrigans; a race of capricious magical dwarves who live underground surrounded by vast wealth and who venture out at night to play cruel tricks upon the race of humans that robbed them of their ancient, scared lands. Some tales claim that korrigans share the same roots as fairies, some that they are the descendants of the giant first men of Brittany and others that they are tormented souls, condemned to wander the lonely moors at night.

However, one Breton tale ascribes the origins of the magical korrigans to a most powerful enchantress named Koridwen, wife to Hu-Ar-Braz, the first of the druids, with whom she bore three children. In addition to their first born, a son named Mor-Vrau, they had a daughter, Kreiz-Viou, who was reputed to be the most beautiful girl in the world and another son, Avrank-Du, sadly said to have been the most hideous of beings.

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Consumed with motherly tenderness, Koridwen desired something special for her youngest child; a unique gift that would set him apart from others as surely as his horrible countenance was destined to do. She therefore resolved to imbue him with knowledge and wisdom by making him drink the Water of Divination; a magical concoction that took a whole year of boiling to bind together properly. To maintain the fire and constantly stir the bubbling potion, the enchantress entrusted the custody of her iron cauldron to a blind man named Morda and to a dwarf called Gwiou.

The year of careful, patient labour was about to expire, when, with the two overseers having slackened their zeal, a little of the precious brew was spilled and three small drops fell on to the finger of the dwarf, who, bringing it to his mouth, suddenly knew the vast secrets of the future. Immediately, the hot cauldron shattered into hundreds of pieces and their angry mistress suddenly materialised before them. An irate Koridwen rushed at Gwiou but the dwarf had already taken to the wind on her first appearance.

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As fast as he ran, Gwiou could sense Koridwen was hard on his heels and almost close enough to grasp him. As he was about to be caught, he transformed into a hare and instantly ran across the open country so much faster. However, within the blinking of an eye, the enchantress had become a greyhound and sprang up behind him once more. Approaching the bank of a river, Koridwen was about to grab him when he suddenly assumed the form of a fish and dived into the fast-flowing water.

No sooner had Gwiou sped away with the current than a large otter unexpectedly appeared which pursued him so closely that he could only escape by becoming a bird. Soaring through the grey sky, Gwiou flew as hard as he could but he soon espied a great hawk bearing down on him from above with its wings outstretched and its sharp beak open in attack. Quivering with fear, the tired dwarf turned from a flying bird into a single grain of wheat and allowed himself to slowly fall upon a large heap of wheat that he had noticed piled-up on the ground below.

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Suddenly, a big black hen came scurrying along and began scratching at the wheat, pecking at the grains. Thus was Gwiou consumed and Koridwen avenged. However, her revenge was not absolute; for the grain of wheat that was Gwiou grew inside her and nine months later Koridwen bore another son. Unamused at the appearance of Koridwen’s baby, Hu is said to have taken the child in its wicker cradle and abandoned it to the waters of the sea. Providence seems to have had other designs for the boy as he was saved from the clutches of the waves by Elffin, son of King Gouydno, and grew to become an enchanter; spirit of the moor and shore, the Korrigan. It was thus from Koridwen that all the magical dwarves and fairies of Brittany were descended.

Those with an interest in Celtic mythology will note the striking resemblance between this tale and parts of that known as Hanes Taliesin; an account of the life of the 6^th century British bard Taliesin, featuring his legendary birth and the acquisition of his marvellous gift of vision. A work that was composed by Elis Gruffydd, a Welsh soldier and administrator, during the mid-16^th century in Calais, then a continental enclave of the King of England.

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In Gruffydd’s account, the rescued boy is named Taliesin on account of his radiant forehead and is immediately able to craft and recite wonderful poetry. He subsequently uses his unique gift to thwart the machinations of those who seek to bring down Elffin and even unearths a cauldron full of gold as a reward for Elffin having saved and adopted him. The young bard was also famed for his poetry recounting the earliest history of mankind and his prophesies of the history yet to come.

It is these mystical qualities that have made Taliesin such a mysterious figure in the early history of Britain. His legendary status as chief of the bards and poets likely derived from his having been the leading bard at the courts of three British kings but his renown saw later generations attribute him with poems and prophecies that he is most unlikely to have written. Perhaps there was a talented poet active in the 10^th or 11^th centuries who also was known by the pen-name of Taliesin? The work of two, or more, distinct authors having become confused by the early 14^th century when one of the oldest collections of Welsh poems were assembled in the manuscript known as the Book of Taliesin.

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In the epic tale of Culhwch ac Olwen, found in the 14^th century Red Book of Hergest, although the text itself is believed to be several hundred years older, Taliesin is described as a bard to King Arthur. However, the same book contains a tale of the legendary giant Brân the Blessed, high king of Britain, and his military expedition to Ireland; an enterprise from which only seven men survived, one of whom being Taliesin.

Confusion regarding the historical Taliesin is also compounded by him sometimes having been likened to and even conflated with the sage Myrddin, known in English as the enchanter Merlin. The 13^th century Black Book of Carmarthen contains a lengthy poem known as The Discourse of Merlin and Taliesin likely written centuries before the book was compiled; a connection that never seems to have lost its popular lustre as the 19^th century poet Alfred Tennyson incorporated both characters in his Idylls of the King, so too, Bernard Cornwell in his Warlord Chronicles written at the turn of this century.

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Interestingly, the story of Taliesin was also well known in Brittany and from an early date; a history of Brittany written in the 14^th century, known as the Chronicle of Saint-Brieuc, contains a hagiography of Saint Iud-Hael or Judicael, king of Dumnonia in northern Brittany, that was compiled in the early 11^th century. This tells us that, around 570AD, the monastery of Saint Gildas in southern Brittany was host to: “a certain overseas traveller and exile for religion, namely Taliesin the bard, son of Dôn, a prophet who had great foresight through the interpretation of portents; one who with wondrous eloquence, proclaimed in prophetic utterances the lucky and unlucky lives of lucky and unlucky men.”

Other versions of the tale of Koridwen and the dwarf Gwiou are known in Brittany; one accords almost completely with the account given in Hanes Taliesin, while others contain some subtle differences. For instance, in one story Koridwen is described as a companion, rather than wife, of the god Hu-Kadarn. As well as being father of all druids and bards, Hu was described as saviour of the earth, teacher of agriculture, founder of justice and the great institutions of humanity, conqueror of giants and the protector in the darkness. Interestingly, both of Hu’s known epithets carry the meaning of strong or resolute, so, perhaps the only noteworthy difference is that Hu is described as a god; a deification also accorded to Koridwen in another version of the tale, while some 19^th century versions seem to endow her with the title of The White Fairy.

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Recovering a coherent history of Koridwen is virtually impossible today as there is so little early source material from which to form a robust estimation. She is called Kyrridven in the Black Book of Carmarthen and seems to be regarded as the patron goddess of bards, thanks to her Cauldron of Inspiration and its magical ability to disperse awen; a quality perhaps best described as spiritual inspiration or profound poetic muse. The notion that the greatest bards were deeply inspired poets and divinely endowed seers was an important part of Celtic tradition and was even still attested in the late 12^th century by the historian Gerald of Wales who noted that: “these gifts are usually conferred upon them in dreams: some seem to have sweet milk or honey poured on their lips.”

Lady Charlotte Guest, in the notes to her edition of the collection of medieval Welsh tales now known as The Mabinogion (1845), boldly states that: “Caridwen is generally considered to be the Goddess of Nature of Welsh mythology” but offers little to substantiate such a claim other than her role in the birth of Taliesin and the few references to her in other medieval poems. Today, many people now regard her as some sort of primordial Earth Mother while others believe her to be the ancient British goddess of fertility and death or even resurrection.

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The etymology of Koridwen’s name is of little help in understanding her earliest origins as the spelling of it, in Breton and Welsh, has changed several times over the last 800 years. Some authors have suggested derivations such as ‘crooked woman’, ‘blessed poetry’ or ‘fair poet’. It has even been suggested that her name is actually derived from the notoriously poisonous plant, hemlock. Breton authors have long focussed on the fact that korr is the Breton word for the magical little folk of the region and have thus taken Koridwen’s name to mean ‘white fairy’.

Perhaps Koridwen’s real virtue was her magical cauldron which is variously noted as the Cauldron of Inspiration and Science or as the Cauldron of Divination? A Breton version of the birth of Taliesin tells that Koridwen only prepared the Water of Divination after having sought guidance in the temple of ‘The Just One’; a wonderfully mystical phrase but one that is, sadly, not expanded upon. Into the brazen cauldron, surrounded by the pearls of the sea, she is said to have cast six most efficacious plants.

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The Breton writer, Théodore de La Villemarqué in his Barzaz Breiz (1839), suggests that these virtuous plants were the magical, and elusive, golden grass, together with henbane, brookweed, verbena, primrose and clover. A magical sextet endorsed by Henri Martin in his Histoire de France (1861) and, more authoritatively, by Victor Duruy in his Histoire des Romains (1879). La Villemarqué claims that the magic potion produced was known as “the water of Gwion” and in highlighting this version of Gwiou’s name attempts, unconvincingly, to link this to the island of Gwion or Alwion – Albion; the name used by the Ancient Greeks for the island of Britain.

Given their likely importance in Celtic ritual, it is perhaps unsurprising that magical cauldrons are not an uncommon trope in the old Welsh legends; for instance, the cauldron of Pwyll, chief of Annwfyn, was said to have dispersed poetry when breathed upon by nine maidens but refused to boil the meat of a coward. There were also a few cauldrons that were renowned for their ability to return the dead to life, such as that once owned by Brân the Blessed that had the power to resurrect dead warriors even if they were reborn deaf and dumb. Magical cauldrons are not unique to Welsh mythology being also found in old Irish and Norse legends.

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Whether magical korrigan or mystical bard, the story of Koridwen’s charmed offspring fits into a broader pattern of tales that highlight the marvellous origins of certain, special people. Such characters were not confined to the mythologies of Ancient Greece or Rome but were also found in medieval legends such as that relating to the conception of King Arthur or to those early Breton saints who crossed the ocean on rocks or leaves. These fantastic backstories served only to enhance their distinctiveness and to underscore the special status accorded to them. Embellishments that were likely unneeded but certainly helped to forge an unforgettable story.

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