Yr Hen Iaith fifty seven: Three birds and two worlds: Morgan Llwyd

We continue the history of Welsh literature to accompany the second series of podcasts in which Jerry Hunter guides fellow academic Richard Wyn Jones through the centuries. This accompanies episode 57.

Jerry Hunter

 Eryr. O ba le’r wyt ti (y Gigfran ddu) yn ehedeg?

 Cigfran. O dramwy’r ddaear ac o amgylchu’r gweirgloddiau i ennill fy mywyd.

Eryr. Ond tydi yw’r aderyn a ddanfonodd Noa allan o’i long na ddaeth yn ôl fyth

            ato drachefn?

Cigfran. Myfi yn wir yw’r aderyn hwnnw, ac mae arna’i dy ofn di, brenin yr adar.

Eryr. Pam na ddoit ti yn ôl at yr hwn a’th ddanfonodd?

Cigfran. Am fod yn well gennyf fwyta cyrff y meirwon na bod dan law Noa a’i

            feibion.   

‘Eagle: From whence do you fly (o black Raven)?

Raven: From travelling over the earth and about the meadows in order to win my

food.

Eagle: But are you not the bird whom Noah sent out of his boat and who never

returned to him again?

Raven: It is I truly who is that bird, and I am afraid of you, king of the birds.

Eagle: Why did you not return to he who had sent you?

Raven: Because I prefer to eat the bodies of the dead than be ruled by the hand of

Noah and his sons.’

Thus begins Morgan Llwyd’s ‘Book of the Three Birds’ (Llyfr y Tri Aderyn). We are in the ancient times described in the Book of Genesis and the world has been devastated by God’s wrath. The flood waters which killed all on earth have finally receded, leaving nothing other than rotting corpses.

The only living creatures are the ones inhabiting Noah’s Ark, a safe space which not only preserves life but which serves as a forum for debate, as the three birds talk, reason and argue.

Mystery

This book is an allegory. Morgan Llwyd calls it a ‘Mystery’ (Dirgelwch) on the title page, adding that it was ‘for some to UNDERSTAND and for Others to SCORN’ ( i rai i’w DDEALL ac i Eraill i’w WATWAR).

The crafty Raven (Cigfran),  represents the conservative Anglican who thoroughly rejects the new religious ideas which the Dove (Colomen) presents.

The Eagle (Eryri) is the embodiment of secular power and authority; given the fact that this book was published in 1653, the year when Oliver Cromwell became Lord Protector, it is tempting to see this ‘King of the Birds’ as a fictional reflection of that powerful man.

However, while the Dove voices opinions embraced the Puritan who authored the book, Morgan Llwyd was careful to distance himself from that character and tell readers that he was only a weak and imperfect follower of the Dove.

As is discussed in the previous instalment, Morgan Llwyd was trying to win the hearts and minds of other Welsh people, most of whom were conservative politically and religiously and not likely to embrace the radical religious stance of a Puritan.

Rather than making the conservative Raven a two-dimensional villain, Llwyd draws the character complexly, ensuring that there is much about the bird which attracts us.

As seen in these opening lines, the Raven refuses to ‘be ruled by the hand of Noah and his sons’. We can’t help but admire the Raven’s independence. We also admire the Raven’s wit. When the Eagle chastises him for eating dead bodies, the King of the Birds is offered a powerful reply:

Eryr. Ond yr wyt ti yn bwyta cig y meirwon, ac yn ymborth ar y budreddi annaturiol.

Cigfran. Felly yr wyt tithau (O Eryr) weithiau, er dy fod yn falch, ac megis yn frenin.

‘Eagle: But you eat the flesh of the dead, and sustain yourself on unnatural filth.

Raven: As you yourself do (Oh Eagle), sometimes, although you are proud, and as

a king.’

Carrion

Touché: the Raven scores a solid point here! Eagles found in these islands (the white-tailed eagle and the golden eagle) prefer live prey, but they will also eat carrion. One of the joys of reading this book is the way in which it slides back and forth playfully across the allegorical line.

For the most part we get lost in the personification, following the birds’ discussion as if they were people and enjoying their very human characteristics. But there are key moments when Morgan Llwyd reminds us that they also have the characteristics of specific birds.

Readers are also entertained by the Raven’s humour. At one point, in trying to persuade the Eagle to see all doves as ‘false prophets’ (ffals broffwydi), the crafty bird says this:

Oni weli di gywion y colomennod yn ehedeg i’r pulpud i bregethu, a’u plisg geni am eu pennau? Pa fodd y gall ieuenctid ddysgu henaint?

‘Do you not see the doves flying to the pulpit to preach, the shell from their birthing [or hatching] still upon their heads? How can youth teach old age?’

Cleverly, this echoes conservative complaints about at the way in which the radical new regime ignored traditional social hierarchies. However, it combines that familiar ideological chestnut with a memorably humorous image, as we imagine a newly-hatched chick wearing part of its old egg-shell as a hat.

The world inhabited by the three birds is palimpsestic; in other worlds, we can see two worlds at once, the one glimpsed – fleetingly, at times – through the lines defining the other. While these birds inhabit that biblical flood-ravaged earth, they also move through a very contemporary version of Wales and England.

Eryr. Oni buost di y dydd arall yn Llundain yn clustfeinio beth a glywit ti?

Cigfran. Do. Mae yn Llundain bob math o adar, fel mewn coed tew (pob aderyn a’i  lais).

‘Eagle: Were you not in London the other day listening to what you might hear?

Raven: Yes. All kinds of birds are in London, as in a dense wood (every bird with his own voice).’

Dead soldiers

If we imagine the Raven leaving Noah’s Ark in order to feed on the swollen bodies left after the biblical flood, we can also imagine the very real ravens eating dead soldiers on the battle fields of the recent wars between king and parliament.

While we enjoy the Raven’s humour and clever use of language, it is hard to ignore the Dove. Indeed, her opening words tell us that she is as determined as she is meek, and that she can explain things unknown to the other two birds:

Colomen. Os ceir cennad (ac onid e), mae ewyllys i ddangos dirgelwch y dwfr dilyw, a’r hen fyd a’r newydd; da gennyf ddwyn y ddeilen las a newydd da i’r rhai a achubir. Ac mi ddylwn gael cennad i ddywedyd y gwir yn llonydd amdanaf fy hunan, ac am bob aderyn arall.

‘Dove: If leave be had (and even if it is not had), there is a will to explain the mystery of the flood water, and the old world and the new; I am happy to bring the green leaf and the good news to those who are saved. And I should have leave to speak the truth unmolested about myself, and about every other bird.’

Who wouldn’t want to receive ‘the green leaf and the good news’?

The three-way conversation taking place within the confines of the Ark can also be seen as a court-room drama; the Dove and Raven are two lawyers arguing their cases, and the Eagle sits as judge.

Ultimately, the Eagle sides with the Dove and the defeated bird departs, telling the Eagle ‘I see that you are completely against me’ (Mi welaf dy fod ti yn fy erbyn i yn hollol). True to character to the last, the Raven adds:  ‘I know where I can get my supper. I smell the stench of carcasses upon the earth’ (Minnau a wn p’le ca’i fy swper. Mi glywaf sawyr burgynnod ar y ddaear). The departing bird’s very last words are fascinating:

Ffarwel i Noa, ac i’w Arch, ac i tithau, ac i’th Golomen. Ni ddo’i atoch mwyach. Crawc, crawc. Ymaith, ymaith. Ymhell ddigon.

‘Farwell to Noah, and to his Ark, and to you, and to your Dove. I will never again return to you. Crawc, crawc! Away, away! Far enough away!’

The allegory begins to implode as the Raven flies away, the bird’s cawing gradually replacing human speech. The rest of the book is a conversation between two birds, the Dove being left to instruct the Eagle in peace.

Further Reading:

Thomas Richard, A History of the Puritan Movement in Wales from the Institution of the Church at Llanfaches in 1639 to the Expiry of the Propogation Act in 1653  (1920).

1. Wynn Thomas, Morgan Llwyd (1984).

1. Wynn Thomas (ed.), Llyfr y Tri Aderyn [:] Morgan Llwyd (1988).

1. Wynn Thomas, Morgan Llwyd [:] Ei Gyfeillion, Ei Gyfoeswyr A’i Gyfnod (1991).

Jerry Hunter, ‘The Red Sword, the Sickle and the Author’s Revenge: Welsh Literature and Conflict in the Seventeenth Century, Proceedings of the Harvard Celtic Colloquium 36 (2018).

Jerry Hunter, ‘Perygl Geiriau, Oferedd Print: Cyd-destunoli Pryderon Llenyddol Morgan Llwyd’ yn Ysgrifau Beirniadol XXXV [:] Gweddnewidiadau (forthcoming in February 2025).