The Physicians of Myddfai and the
Lady of the Lake
Medieval Wales was famed for the herbal tradition of the Meddygon Myddfai—the Physicians of Myddfai. A parish in Carmarthenshire, Myddfai became known from the thirteenth century onward as the home of a lineage of court physicians, as well as for an area called Pant y Meddygon (the Valley of the Physicians), which was rich in medicinal plants. It was not unusual for professions to be hereditary in medieval Wales, with training passed through apprenticeship from parent to child. We see this really clearly in Middle-Age Welsh law manuscripts, which are plentiful and generational.
The family first gained prominence when Rhiwallon Feddyg of Myddfai became the court physician of Lord Rhys Gryg, son of the famous prince of South Wales, Rhys ap Gruffydd. Under the patronage of Rhys Gryg, Rhiawallon and his sons collected medicinal formulae, diagnostic methods, and treatment practices of their profession into a manuscript. A copy of this text was included in the compilation of medieval Welsh writings called The Red Book of Hergest (Llyfr Coch Hergest), an important source of early Welsh materials including poetry, history, and especially the stories of Y Mabinogi. Although the manuscript itself dates back to the late fourteenth century, it is believed that some of the recipes and healing charms preserved therein date back much farther, perhaps even to the sixth century, representing the first time some of the traditional healing practices of Wales were committed to writing. The collection itself is not typical of similar medieval medical manuscripts from Europe, as the Meddygon Myddfai included detailed instructions both on how to prepare herbal remedies as well as dosage information and length of treatment.
In 1861, the Welsh MMS Society included these materials in a book called The Physicians of Myddfai: Or, the Medical Practice of the Celebrated Rhiwallon and His Sons, of Myddfai, in Carmarthenshire. It was edited by the Welsh scholar Rev. John Williams ab Ithel, and translated into English by John Pughe, himself a physician. Pughe also wrote the preface, which gives a brief overview of Welsh medicine, a history of the Meddygon Myddfai, as well as some of their medical maxims. This is followed with “The Legend of Llyn y Fan, or The Lady of the Lake,” compiled from several sources in 1841. This popular Welsh folktale, which has several known variations, established a supernatural lineage for the Physicians of Myddfai, who were said to be the children of a lake fairy and a mortal man. The legend said it was their mother, the Lady of the Lake, who taught them the use of herbs for healing.
The rest of the text is comprised of lists of medicinal recipes and remedies, most of which are strictly comprised of herbs, though there are some which also include components derived from animals. In addition to these formulae that treat symptoms and heal disease processes, the Myddfai collection includes information on anatomy, basic types of surgery, classifications of diseases, dietary warnings and advice, and even a few prayers and charms that are supposed to affect healing as well as some that could be used to assist in reaching a diagnosis.47 The last known physician of this lineage was John Jones, who died in 1789; his gravestone can be seen to this day at St. Michael’s Church in Myddfai.
There are several threads of knowledge evidenced in these healing practices and remedies. As with most medical literature from medieval Europe, much derived from classical Greek and Roman sources that likely first came to the British Isles during the Roman period. An additional influence comes from Greek writings rediscovered in the eleventh century which triggered a revival and expansion of study in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. This revival explains the presence of the humoral philosophy of Hippocrates and Galen in the Welsh medical literature, and indeed some of the collection can be traced to original Latin materials; those that cannot may reflect a more native Welsh healing tradition. This is especially true where the writing resembles the mnemonic styles known from Welsh literature as reflecting oral transmission before things began to be redacted in the medieval period. It has been suggested that it is the collecting of these previously oral teachings into writing that may form the basis of the fame of the Physicians of Myddfai.
The writings of the physicians reflect a few other cultural pieces as well. Several herbs that were known to be very commonly used, like meadowsweet, are only mentioned once or twice in the collection. It is thought that this is a result of the herb having been in such common usage that to include it in the formulary would have been considered redundant. We can also deduce the ways in which the medical community of the time approached women’s health care as much by looking at what information isn’t included in these writings as by what is. While there are several herbal formulae addressing female-specific ailments such as those treating disease of the breast, herbs to aid fertility, and a charm to assist in childbirth, there is still an information gap about women’s herbal healthcare. Perhaps we may cautiously consider that the deeper herbal knowledge of women’s issues were not a part of professional medical training and were instead found in the realms of folk practice, midwifery, and village wise women.
As the middle ages were not the safest of times for women herbalists and midwifes, it is likely that the knowledge around these remained in oral tradition, safely couched in the language of folk practice. Our knowledge is quite limited when it comes to the specifics of what was used and when, but a study of the archaeological record both as it concerns paleobotany and grave goods (for example, meadowsweet flowers have been found in Bronze Age burials in Wales)—along with collected folk practice and lore around particular herbs in the modern era—helps us fill in some of the pieces.
The town of Myddfai today has established itself as a learning center for traditional Welsh herbal practices, and local herbalists have conscientiously gone out into the countryside to interview community elders in an effort to collect folk remedies and herbal healing methods which have been in active use and passed down from generation to generation. Studying the Physicians of Myddfai manuscript and formulary, as well as making a visit to Myddfai and to the site of Llyn y Fan Fach, are both highly recommended for those interested in Welsh ethnobotany and making a connection with the local traditions of the Lady of the Lake.
Llyn y Fan Fach and the Lady of the Lake
In the story of the Lady of Llyn y Fan Fach, a shepherd (in some sources he is named Gwyn) pastures his widowed mother’s cattle on the nearby slopes of the Black Mountain near Llyn y Fan Fach—the Lake of the Small Hill. One day, he encounters a lake fairy lounging upon the surface of the water, combing her long hair. Filled with love for her, he approaches the maiden and wordlessly offers her the bread he has brought with him for his meal. She rejects it, saying, “Hard baked is thy bread; I am not easy to catch!” before disappearing below the water. The next day he returns. On the advice of his mother, this time he brings raw dough as an offering for the lake fairy. When she appears again, he speaks his love for her, and she says, “Unbaked is thy bread! I will not have thee.” She dives into the lake once more, but her smile encourages him to return again, this time with half-baked bread. The shepherd waits all day on the shore of the lake, and when the fairy finally appears, she accepts his offering and takes his hand. He proposes marriage to her, and she disappears below the water once more.
Forlorn, the youth tries to follow her into the lake even though it could mean his demise, but suddenly his beloved reappears, now accompanied by a white-haired man of strong and noble bearing as well as another maiden who is identical to her in every way. The man tells Gwyn that he is the father of these two maidens and will permit his daughter to marry him if he is able to identify which of the two was the woman he loved. Panic-stricken, the youth desperately looks for something to distinguish his beloved from her identical twin, fearing he will lose her forever. Just as he is about the give up hope, one of the maidens subtly points her toe toward him, moving just enough for Gwyn to notice. He immediately steps forward and takes her by the hand.
Having chosen correctly, the father of his beloved says to him, “I charge you to be a good and gentle husband to my daughter, and as a dowry, I will give her as many heads of cattle, sheep, goats, and horses that she can count of each without losing her breath. Should you treat her poorly and strike her with three blows without cause, she and all the livestock I have gifted her will return to our home beneath the lake.” Gwyn agrees to these terms and gives his assurances that he would never harm the woman he loves. Then, counting by fives, the maiden secures an enormous amount of animals for her dowry, which her father called out of the lake as a gift to the young couple. They were soon married and went to live on a farm not far from the town of Myddfai. The lady took the name Nelferch and bore three sons to Gwyn; the loving family lived together in joy and prosperity for many years.
Alas, as with most prohibitions, Gwyn did eventually break his contract with Nelferch’s father. He struck the first causeless blow when he playfully swatted her with his gloves as he asked her to fetch their horse so they could get to a christening she was delaying attending. Years later, Nelferch began to weep inconsolably at a wedding in the face of everyone else’s joy. Gwyn tapped her on the shoulder to ask why she was crying and she replied that she foresaw a troubled future for the couple, and informed Gwyn that he had now struck the second blow. Vowing to be more mindful, it was many years later that Gwyn and Nelferch were attending a funeral where she was laughing joyfully in contrast to everyone else’s sorrow. Gwyn touched Nelferch on the arm, imploring her to stop laughing. She explained that she was happy because when people die, they leave the pain and the sorrow of the world behind them. “And now,” she said, “I must also leave you behind, my husband. You have struck the final causeless blow, and our marriage is over.”
With that, she turned away from him and headed back to their farm where she called to all of her cattle and oxen, and to her horses, goats and sheep. They left the fields they had been plowing, the pastures they had been grazing, and even the slaughtered calf hanging on a hook came back to life and joined the procession of animals which followed the lady back to Llyn y Fan Fach to return with her under the waters.
The devastated and inconsolable Gwyn was never to see his beloved again, no matter how much time he spent calling to her and seeking her out on the banks of the lake. However, her sons would often wander in search of her and one day she appeared before her eldest son, Rhiwallon. She revealed to him that his destiny was to become one of the greatest healers the world had ever seen; he would serve humanity by restoring them to health and providing relief from pain and suffering. Nelferch gave to him a bag filled with prescriptions and formulary for the restoration and preservation of health, explaining that if he and his family studied these deeply, they would gain renown for centuries as the most skillful physicians in Wales. Before disappearing once more, she promised her son that she would come to him whenever he had need of her counsel. Wisely, the sons committed the whole of their knowledge to writing so that their art would never be lost and would always be available in service to humanity.
Lake Fairies and Their Origin
Scholars believe the tale as we have it today is a confluence of several stories that were connected to the land. The Fairy Bride as a folk motif is very popular in Welsh literary tradition, and several such tales are known particularly as associated with the lakes in and around Myddfai. A study of early Welsh literature shows that it was not uncommon for noble Welsh families to trace their lineage back to famous historical personages or characters from legend, so it is not surprising that the famous healers of Myddfai who served generations of Welsh nobility would have such a story attached to their family history. While descending from such a notable personage would serve to increase the prestige of the physicians, it may also represent a trace echo of something deeper.
As in other Celtic lands, Wales has a rich corpus of folklore and traditional stories about fairies. Modern folklorists identify five different general categories of fairies in Welsh tradition: Ellyllon, fairies of the valleys and groves bearing similarities to elves; Coblynau, fairies of the mines that are very like dwarves or gnomes; Bwbachod, fairies of the household similar to brownies or goblins; Gwyllion, fairies of the mountains who are hag-like and dangerous; and Gwragedd Annwn, the fairies of lakes and streams. These Otherworldly beings are collectively called Y Tylwyth Teg, “the fair folk.” 48
Some of these beings are inherently good and helpful, such as the Gwragedd Annwn (“Wives of the Lower World”), while others like the Gwyllion are known to be generally dangerous; however most of the fair folk are depicted as having both beneficent and malevolent aspects. Sometimes this is dependent upon how these fairies are treated by the humans who interact with them, while in other tales we see subclasses of these beings exhibiting temperaments associated with the type of fairy they are. It is because of their potentially dangerous nature that in some parts of Wales, these beings are instead called Bendith y Mamau, the “Blessings of the Mothers”—a euphemism used to avoid speaking the name of the fair folk directly, which could attract their sometimes-negative attention.49
A theory about the origin of fairies in Celtic traditions is that they were once ancient divinities whose stories were kept alive in oral tradition; through the gradual process known as reverse euhemerization, they were reduced in status and stature to become supernatural creatures such as giants, witches, enchanters, and fairies. Perhaps, then, lake fairies may once have been local goddesses of the land whose worship centered on the bodies of water or other landscape features associated with them. Or perhaps the lake fairies were never diminished goddesses at all but were simply nature spirits or the anthropomorphized essence of the lakes themselves, a type of genus loci, or spirit of the land. According to Welsh folk belief, fairies were thought to be the souls of virtuous druids; they were considered to be too good for hell but since they weren’t Christian, they couldn’t enter heaven. Instead, they returned to the lands where they once lived; they were believed to be immortal and possess the power to make themselves invisible.
The Lake Maiden is a particularly Welsh iteration of the Fairy Bride motif, and there are many tales about them. The Otherworldly home of the Gwragedd Annwn is a place that existed very closely to our own world and could be accessed (in either direction) at threshold times and places, especially through bodies of water, near rivers, or under lakes. The Lady of the Lake of Llyn y Fan Fach is particularly evocative in that it suggests there is an entire separate community or country beneath the waters populated by Otherworldly beings that look like humans (or can take on human form) and who posses great beauty and magic. While legends show that lake fairies can marry and have children with human men, they also appear to have had a very distinctive culture with their own rules and social conventions and display the kinds of supernatural characteristics that we have come to associate with the indigenous Otherworld of Britain.
For example, the normal rules of time and space do not necessarily apply to the Otherworld and its denizens, which is why even the slaughtered animals came back to life and returned under the waves when the Lady of the Lake called them back to her. Magical prohibitions against certain behaviors is a common element in the Lake Maiden tales, and in the tale of the Lady of Llyn y Fan Fach, the three unjust blows, and even the social mores and philosophical perspectives of the Otherworldly characters, are clearly coded in the tale as Other. This is particularly evidenced by the behavior of the Lady of the Lake when she is shown laughing at a funeral, crying at a wedding, and avoiding attending a christening.
Hidden History?
Transformational cultural shifts and the history of social change are hidden layers of information often unconsciously encoded and transmitted subtextually through the medium of myth. Sometimes these can be found in a category of myth called onomastic tales, which are retroactive explanations for mysterious cultural practices or peculiar landscape features. When these tales are passed along in oral tradition, they tend to shift and change over time such that the original meanings may be lost but the symbolic residue remains. Knowing that the onomastic tale is an established mechanism that is a consequence of oral tradition, we can engage in a kind of mythic archaeology to uncover potential meanings and histories that have been unknowingly embedded in these stories.
Perhaps then, the part of the story that describes Rhiwallon receiving healing knowledge from his mother may be a folkloric resonance that preserves the memory of that time in history when the ability to practice the healing arts was taken from the hands of women—midwives, priestesses, wise women—to become the sole provenance of men. If we look at the tale of the Lady of Llyn y Fan Fach as carrying within it this sort of mythic memory, perhaps then the lineage of the Physicians of Myddfai may have its origins in that older order and latter part of the tale is subtextually commemorating that cultural shift.
Alternatively, in the way that folk traditions often preserve long-forgotten histories, perhaps there had once been a shrine or cult center at Llyn y Fan Fach dedicated to a goddess of healing. While there is no evidence of such a religious center at Llyn y Fan Fach, it is associated with an interesting piece of folk tradition. Gwyl Awst, the first of August and the height of summer, is one of the four British Celtic holy days and has resonance with the Irish feast of Lughnasadh. It is said that if you go to Llyn y Fan Fach on Gwyl Awst, you may be able to catch a glimpse of the Lady of the Lake and she may elect to speak with you.
It’s not hard to find examples of lake fairies as healers in Welsh legend, and perhaps this is a vestige of the lore of the Ninefold Sisterhoods who always had heading as one of their skills. A connection may therefore be made between the Lady of the Lake of Avalon in Arthurian tradition and the Lady of the Lake of Myddfai; in both situations, the Otherworldly lake-dwelling women are healers, and herbalism plays a big role in their healing arts.
Reflecting the Tale Within
Aside from the mythic meaning as reflected in a culture’s history and lore, we can seek out the lessons of the story by embodying it and reflecting its symbolic meaning into our lives. With broad strokes, some of the teachings which can be extracted from the story of the Lady of Llyn y Fan Fach are these:
In addition to being a portal to the Otherworld as many bodies of water in Celtic myth and legend are, the lake in this tale also can represent the unconscious mind, the spiritual realm, and that which lies within us. The Lady of the Lake is an avatar of the inner self—the higher self in women or the anima in men. She plays the role of guide, a goddess, or a messenger from the Otherworld. She holds knowledge of the inner landscape and possesses the tools necessary to affect deep and lasting healing. Gwyn, the young man whose name means “white, shining, holy” and is often a theonym in Welsh mythos (indicating that the character was once divine) represents the conscious mind that seeks beyond what is in front of him. He finds wisdom and spirit in everyday life and learns that nothing is mundane.
When the conscious mind looks within for meaning and truth, it makes space for guidance to rise to the surface from the depths of the unconscious mind. A deep and lasting connection is not easy to make, and often requires persistence and a sacrifice of some sort to be successful. What may arise from the profound and divinely inspired insights can cause a crisis of identity—here represented by the sisters’ challenge—and we are faced with a choice between truth and illusion, between Sovereignty and shadow. However, if we are authentic and dedicated in our seeking, the universe will often lend a hand to help us make the right choices, and the resulting union of the conscious and the unconscious selves brings love, prosperity, and abundance, as represented in the tale as the union of the two lovers, the dowry gifts of cattle, and a home filled with children.
And yet, we must work to maintain the changes we have made in our lives, and to not take for granted the responsibilities that come with the insights that bring wisdom and growth. In order to remain in right relationship in our conscious partnership with Self, there are new perspectives we are expected to maintain and new standards for behavior required of us. External situations that challenge the clarity of our connection to our Sovereignty and threaten to cross our inner boundaries are presented as opportunities to grow and heal, indicating the degree of integration we have obtained. The prohibition against three unjust blows presented in the tale challenge us in three ways: how to respond to experiences of grief which are concurrent with joy, how to be centered and content even in situations of challenge, and how to choose our higher calling even in the face of convention and others’ expectations.
While the three blows in the tale were unjust, they were also unthinking; we are thus cautioned that when we slip into unconscious behaviors—that is, when we react from a place of shadow, rather than respond from the perspective of Sovereignty—we are in danger of being at the mercy once more of our inner illusions. When activated, shadow impulses can overwhelm whatever wisdom we have obtained, returning it to the realm of the unconscious, and leaving us pining for a balanced relationship with Sovereignty once more.
However, the Universe is not cruel; the Lady of the Lake returned to visit with her children and gift them with the healing wisdom that founded the lineage of the Myddfai physicians. In the same way, we can work to affect lasting healing when we are willing to continue our growth and return once more with a child’s trust and openness to seek out the healing wisdoms dwelling within the depths of our shadow. We can then take these hard-won lessons and share them with others, deliberately as teachers, or indirectly through the example of our lives.
47. Morfydd Owen, “Meddygon Myddfai: A Preliminary Survey of some Medieval Medical Writing in Welsh” Studia Celtica 10 (Jan. 1, 1975), 210.
48. Wirt Sikes, British Goblins: Welsh Folk-lore, Fairy Mythology, Legends and traditions (London: Willian Clowes and Sons, 1880), 55.
49. Sikes, British Goblins, 56.