Commentary on the Charge of the Goddess 11: Cerridwen

Cerridwen;

Sources and Influences

BAM: - [not in BAM version of the Charge]

Thealogy

Cerridwen (or Ceridwen) is a figure from Welsh mythology, found in the Book of Taliesin, which Green dates to the 13th century, while French  (draws on a 16th century version of the tale written by Elis Gruffydd. (Miranda Green: Celtic Goddesses: Warriors, Virgins and Mothers. British Museum Press, London, 1997; Claire French: The Celtic Goddess: Great Queen or Demon Witch?. Floris Books, Edinburgh, 2001. My account of the story of Cerridwen includes elements from both Green’s and French’s accounts.)  She is another figure about whose divinity there seems to be some ambiguity: French speaks of her as undoubtedly a Goddess, but Green isn’t sure. She is the sort of mythological figure who appeals to witches, her mythology incorporating tales of potions and power, shapeshifting and initiation, as well as the image of the cauldron.
Her story takes place during the rule of King Arthur. Ceridwen, the keeper of the Cauldron of Inspiration and Knowledge, had two children. Her daughter, Crearwy, was beautiful, while her son, Morfran (‘Great Raven’) was so ugly that he was called Afagddu, which means ugly. Her dissatisfaction with Afagddu caused Ceridwen to brew a magic potion in her cauldron that would make Afagddu wise (and, presumably, handsome).
The brew of Ceridwen’s cauldron had to boil for a year and a day, at the end of which time, three drops would spill out, and whomever the drops hit would become the wisest man on earth and a great prophet. When the drops came out, the cauldron would burst, and the rest of the potion, which would have become a deadly poison, would fly out over the surrounding countryside.
Ceridwen was assisted by a blind old man, and a young lad called Gwion, who watched the pot while she went to collect the herbs which would go into the cauldron to make her potion. As the end of the year and a day approached, she had Afagddu stand near the cauldron ready, so that when the three drops flew out, they would fall on him, their intended target. But Ceridwen fell asleep, and was woken by the sound of the cauldron exploding, to find that Gwion had hurriedly pushed Afagddu out of the way when the drops flew out, so that he had become the wisest man on earth, instead of Afagddu. An alternative version has some drops come out by mistake, and land on Gwion’s finger, which he licks.
Ceridwen was furious that the knowledge she had meant for Afagddu had gone into Gwion instead, and since he now had such superhuman knowledge he knew that she would seek revenge, and fled. Both Ceridwen and Gwion changed shape as they went, Ceridwen successively into a greyhound, then an otter, and finally a hawk. Gwion, who was Ceridwen’s prey in each of his transformations, changed successively into a hare, a fish, and then a bird.
Ceridwen’s final transformation was into a hen, and she changed Gwion into a grain of corn, which she swallowed. Nine months later she gave birth to him as a result of swallowing the corn. She meant to kill the baby, but his beauty stopped her doing it, and instead she set him adrift on the river in a coracle (or a leather package). He drifted like this for around forty years, after which time he was rescued from the water by Elphin, a nobleman at the court of King Maelgwm.
Elphin had been trying to fish on the night of Samhain, but there were no fish, and eventually when he saw a leather package floating in the water, he opened it to find a beautiful child inside, and cried out, ‘What a shining brow!’ (‘Tal i esin!’) Taliesin became the greatest poet and satirist in the land, and a great prophet, who foretold the death of the king, and was seen his peers as ‘the genuine incarnation of druidism.’ (Ibid, p. 69.)  He announced at the court of King Maelgum that he possessed all knowedge, and was present at the creation, and at the birth of Mabon. Green writes that his character, age, and divinatory power indicate that he was of divine or supernatural origin. There is a parallel of his story in the Irish myth of Finn, whose knowledge was acquired when he licked his finger after burning it on the roasting Salmon of Knowledge, and who is also associated with powerful women and was brought up by a druidess.
As for Ceridwen herself, Green sees her as a personification of the link found in Celtic mythology between the magical cauldron and Goddesses. There are also parallels between Ceridwen’s description as ‘Old One’, Hag of Creation, and Witch, with the Hags of Irish mythology, who could also transform into animals or beautiful young women. Green interprets her chase of Gwion as a bardic initiatory ritual leading to knowledge and his bardic gifts, which are symbolised by the grain of corn. Ceridwen’s status, while being ‘perhaps divine,’ (Ibid, p. 69.)  is certainly a supernatural status, indicated by her ability to change her own and others’ shape. The cauldron in the Taliesin story is paralleled by the ‘Cauldron of Rebirth’ in the Tale of Branwen, and in Irish mythology.
So what is she doing here? Ceridwen is one of a long line of semi-divine figures associated in mythology with witchcraft, magic, divination, and transformation. It is precisely their ability to change shape and divine which causes these figures to cross over the boundary into divinity. Another example would be Medea, who despite her undoubted human nature, as witch/sorceress, Pindar can describe as breathing words ‘from immortal lips.’  (Pindar: The Odes of Pindar, translated by C. M. Bowra, Penguin Books, Harmondsworth, 1969, Pythian 4, verse 11, p. 188.) In fact, this ability to make changes is precisely what defines the witch: ‘The Witch is the changer of definitions and relationships.’ (Margot Adler: Drawing Down the Moon (Revised and Expanded Edition). Beacon Press, Boston, 1986, p. 44.)
And of course, the ‘tool’ by which Ceridwen is able to give ultimate knowledge is one bearing great resonance in a witchcraft context: the cauldron, which in the story of Ceridwen, Green relates to a matter of great importance in witchcraft: the circle of birth and death:

‘In a sense, Ceridwen was the cauldron: she swallowed Gwion and caused him to be reborn, the symbolism of the grain of corn eaten by the hen could be seen as an allegory of the seed buried in the womb of the earth for regeneration.’  (Green, op. cit., p. 69.)

Gardner wrote of a witch legend that Stonehenge was the Cauldron of Ceridwen, which he takes to have a vaginal symbolism, since he describes Stonehenge as combined with the phallus, represented by the Hele stone, in an ancient centre of worship of the powers of reproduction.  (Gerald Gardner: The Meaning of Witchcraft. Weiser Books, York Beach, 2004.)
The initiatory aspects of Ceridwen’s story fit perfectly the mystery school/fertility cult aspects of early Wicca. The traditional period of waiting a year and a day between initiations need not have come from Ceridwen’s story, though, as it is found elsewhere in folklore. From an initiatory perspective, Taliesin figures in this story more as an interloper than as a candidate for initiation: either by mistake or deliberately, he comes by knowledge which was not intended for him, matures it by long years in a wilderness experience, and ultimately comes to fame through his bardic power. This is therefore not a straightforward fairy tale, in which the ‘good’ and ‘bad’ are clear-cut, but much more ambivalent. In fact Ceridwen causes the success of the man who stole what was hers and caused the ruination of her plans for her son, by her wish for revenge on him.
Ceridwen’s inclusion in the Charge could be the result of a wish for a native British mythology for a witch cult which has supposedly been underground for several hundred years, but I think the moral of her story is of much more importance for us as modern witches: by the practice of witchcraft, you too can cross the boundary into divinity, but the pursuit and attainment of ultimate knowledge comes at a heavy cost – your initiation into this knowledge can mean your life being turned upside-down.
Once again Gardner referred in his later published work to Ceridwen as a manifestation of the universal Great Mother, specifically in her role of creating fertility in all its forms. He furthers the universality of this idea in the context of talking about Ceridwen by reference to the supposed ‘Goddess’ figure found at Grime’s Graves in Norfolk, commenting that while a huge distance of time separates the figure from the myth of Ceridwen, the idea is the same, and elsewhere that the popularity of St Catherine may be explained by the fact that she was only Ceridwen, the Celtic nature Goddess, ‘canonised’ as a saint.  (Ibid)