Ride A Cockhorse
Ride a cockhorse to Banbury Cross
to see a fine lady upon a white horse,
With rings on her fingers and bells on her toes
she shall have music wherever she goes.
~ Anglo-Celtic Nusery Rhyme
Rhiannon, Celtic Goddess
of Inspiration and the Moon
Rhiannon, the celtic goddess of the moon was a Welch goddess. The goddess Rhiannon's name meant “Divine Queen” of the fairies. In her myths, Rhiannon was promised in marriage to an older man she found repugnant. Defying her family’s wishes that Rhiannon, like other celtic goddesses, declined to marry one of her "own kind".
Instead, the goddess Rhiannon chose the mortal Prince Pwyll (pronounced Poo-ul or translated as Paul) as her future husband. Rhiannon appeared to Pwyll one afternoon while he stood with his companions on a great grass-covered mound in the deep forest surrounding his castle. These mounds, called Tors, were thought to be magical places, perhaps covering the entrance to the otherworld beneath the earth. It was thought that those who stood upon them would become enchanted, so most people avoided them.
So it is no surprise that the young prince was enchanted by the vision of the beautiful young goddess Rhiannon, who was dressed in glittering gold as she galloped by on her powerful white horse. Rhiannon rode by without sparing him even a glance. Pwyll was intrigued and enraptured, and his companions were understandably concerned.
Ignoring the protest of his friends, Pwyll sent his servant off riding his swiftest horse to catch her and asked her to return to meet the prince. But the servant soon returned and reported that she rode so swiftly that it seemed her horse’s feet scarcely touched the ground and that he could not even follow her to learn where she went.
The next day, ignoring his friends’ advice, Pwyll returned alone to the mound and, once more, the celtic goddess appeared. Mounted on his horse, Pwyll pursued her but could not overtake her. Although his horse ran even faster than Rhiannon's, the distance between them always remained the same. Finally, after his horse began to tremble with exhaustion, he stopped and called out for her to wait. And Rhiannon did.
When Pwyll drew close she teased him gently, telling him that it would have been much kinder to his horse had he simply called out instead of chasing her. The goddess Rhiannon then let him know that she had come to find him, seeking his love.
Pwyll welcomed this for the very sight of this beautiful Celtic goddess had tugged at his heart, and he reached for her reins to guide her to his kingdom. But Rhiannon smiled tenderly and shook her head, telling him that they must wait a year and that then she would marry him. In the next moment, the goddess Rhiannon simply disappeared from him into the deep forest.
Rhiannon returned one year later, dressed as before, to greet Pwyll on the Tor. He was accompanied by a troop of his own men, as befitted a prince on his wedding day. Speaking no words, Rhiannon turned her horse and gestured for the men to follow her into the tangled woods. Although fearful, they complied. As they rode the trees suddenly parted before them, clearing a path, then closing in behind them when they passed.
Soon they entered a clearing and were joined by a flock of small songbirds that swooped playfully in the air around Rhiannon’s head. At the sound of their beautiful caroling all fear and worry suddenly left the men. Before long they arrived at her father’s palace, a stunning site that was surrounded by a lake. The castle, unlike any they had ever seen, was built not of wood or stone, but of silvery crystal. It spires soared into the heavens.
After the wedding a great feast was held to celebrate the marriage of the goddess. Rhiannon’s family and people were both welcoming and merry, but a quarrel broke out at the festivities. It was said that the man she’d once been promised to marry was making a scene, arguing that she should not be allowed to marry outside her own people.
Rhiannon slipped away from her husband’s side to deal with the situation as discreetly as she could . . . using a bit of magic, she turned the persistent suitor into a badger and caught him in a bag which she tied close and threw into the lake. Unfortunately, he managed to escape and later returned to cause great havoc in Rhiannon's life.
The next day Rhiannon left with Pwyll and his men to go to Wales as his princess. When they emerged from the forest and the trees closed behind them, Rhiannon took a moment to glance lovingly behind her. She knew that the entrance to the fairy kingdom was now closed and that she could never return to her childhood home. But she didn’t pause for long and seemed to have no regret.
The goddess Rhiannon was welcomed by her husband’s people and admired for her great beauty and her lovely singing. However, when two full years had passed without her becoming pregnant with an heir to the throne, the question of her bloodline, her “fitness” to be queen began to be raised.
Fortunately, in the next year she delivered a fine and healthy son. This baby, however, was to become the source of great sorrow for Rhiannon and Pwyll.
As was the custom then, six women servants had been assigned to stay with Rhiannon in her lying-in quarters to help her care for the infant. Although the servants were supposed to work in shifts tending to the baby throughout the night so that the goddess Rhiannon could sleep and regain her strength after having given birth, one evening they all fell asleep on the job.
When they woke to find the cradle empty, they were fearful they would be punished severely for their carelessness. They devised a plan to cast the blame on the goddess Rhiannon, who was, after all, an outsider, not really one of their own people. Killing a puppy, they smeared its blood on the sleeping Rhiannon and scattered its bones around her bed. Sounding the alarm, they accused the goddess of eating her own child.
Although Rhiannon swore her innocence, Pwyll, suffering from his own shock and grief and faced with the anger of his advisers and the people, did not come strongly to her defense, saying only that he would not divorce her and asking only that her life be spared. Rhiannon’s punishment was announced.
For the next seven years the goddess Rhiannon was to sit by the castle gate, bent under the heavy weight of a horse collar, greeting guests with the story of her crime and offering to carry them on her back into the castle.
Rhiannon bore her humiliating punishment without complaint. Through the bitter cold of winters and the dusty heat of four summers, she endured with quiet acceptance. Her courage was such that few accepted her offer to transport them into the castle. Respect for her began to spread throughout the country as travelers talked of the wretched punishment and the dignity with which the goddess Rhiannon bore her suffering.
In the fall of the fourth year three strangers appeared at the gate—a well-dressed nobleman, his wife, and a young boy. Rhiannon rose to greet them saying, “Lord, I am here to carry each of you into the Prince’s court, for I have killed my only child and this is my punishment.” The man, his wife, and the child dismounted. While the man lifted the surprised Rhiannon onto his horse, the boy handed her a piece of an infant’s gown. Rhiannon saw that it was cloth that had been woven by her own hands. The boy then smiled at her, and she recognized that he had the eyes of his father, Pwyll.
Soon the story was told. Four years earlier, during a great storm, the nobleman had been called to the field to help a mare in labor, when he heard the infant’s cries and found him lying abandoned. He and his wife took the baby in, raising him as if he were their own. When the rumors of the goddess Rhiannon’s fate had reached his ears, he realized what had happened and set out at once to return the child to his parents. Most legends suggest that the badger actually was the enraged suitor that Rhiannon had rejected who had escaped and taken his revenge by kidnapping Rhiannon's infant son.
Pwyll and his people quickly recognized the boy for Pwyll and Rhiannon’s son. The goddess Rhiannon was restored to her honor and her place beside her husband. Although she had suffered immensely at their hands, Rhiannon, goddess of noble traits, saw that they were ashamed and was filled with forgiveness and understanding.
In some versions of the legend, Rhiannon was the celtic goddess who later became Vivienne, best known as the Lady of the Lake. She was the celtic goddess who gave Arthur the sword Excalibur, empowering him to become King in the legends of Camelot.
The story of the celtic goddess Rhiannon reminds us of the healing power of humor, tears, and forgiveness. The goddess Rhiannon is a goddess of movement and change who remains steadfast, comforting us in times of crisis and of loss.
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The Marriage of Rhiannon
By Megan Powell
Outside the palace of Narberth there was a mound to which people ascribed mystical properties. According to popular tales, anyone who sat upon the mound was either wounded by invisible forces, or saw a wonder. One day Pwyll Pen Annwn decided that he would see if the stories were true.
At first, he sat tensely, body braced against expected blows; but after several uneventful minutes he relaxed. And that was when he saw the promised wonder.
A woman clad in gold, riding a pure white horse, passed by the mound. Pwyll was struck by her beauty, and ordered one of his men to approach her. The man walked toward the mysterious lady, and then walked faster and finally began to run, but he was unable to reach her and she passed from sight.
The next night, Pwyll went again to the mound, hopeful of seeing the woman. She did not disappoint, and appeared riding the same horse. Pwyll sent a horseman after her this time, but he fared no better than the footman. Once more, the lady passed out of sight.
There is magic at work here, Pwyll thought to himself. Perhaps he had been wrong to send servants in his place; the lady, in addition to possessing some otherworldly quality, was clearly of noble birth. Pwyll was a Prince, and had been a king in Annwn in place of his friend Arawn. Surely he himself was worthy of the lady's attentions.
So the next night, Pwyll went alone to the mound, and awaited the mysterious woman. She appeared again, and Pwyll followed her on horseback, first at a walk and finally a gallop, but he came no closer to her.
"Stop, I pray you, lady," he finally called, and much to his surprise she turned and smiled. His horse quickly drew even with hers.
"Gladly," she said. "You would have been kinder to your horse had you asked before."
Pwyll smiled, vaguely embarassed.
"My name is Rhiannon," the woman said. "I am the daughter of Heveydd the Ancient. My father's nobles have chosen a husband for me, a man I do not wish to marry.
"I choose you instead, Pwyll Penn Annwn, as the man I would marry."
"My lady?" Pwyll could scarcely believe his ears. This was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, more beautiful even than the wife of Arawn.
"Your name is known, Pwyll, and so are your deeds," Rhiannon said simply, and smiled again. "Do not insult my taste."
"I would not dream of doing so, my lady Rhiannon," Pwyll replied. "I would deny neither of us the benefits of your decision."
"I am glad. If you will have me, come to my father's hall one year hence."
"I shall be there," he promised, and watched as she nodded and disappeared from sight once more.
At the promised time, Pwyll and one hundred of his men set out for Heveydd's hall. He was welcomed, and Heveydd honored him by placing him at the head of the feast. Pwyll sat between Heveydd and Rhinannon; not since his time in the realm of Annwn had he enjoyed a feast so much.
So when a young man entered the hall and asked a boon of the bridegroom, Pwyll answered easily: "Whatever you crave shall be yours, if it is in my power to grant it."
At that point, the youth flung aside his outer garments, and Rhiannon's suitor stood revealed. "Then I claim Rhiannon."
"Stay quiet," Rhiannon ordered Pwyll, who had been struck dumb in any case. "You are not a witless man; why must you behave like one?"
"I did not know who he was...." Pwyll managed.
"His name is Gwawl, son of Clûd," Rhiannon answered absently. "And now you must give me to him, so that you are not shamed."
"Never. How can you even suggest it?" Pwyll demanded. "I thought you wanted me--"
"Give me to him," she insisted. "I can marry a fool, but not one who has dishonored himself with a broken promise." Still Pwyll made no move to obey. "Do as I say, and I promise that I shall never be Gwawl's."
"I grant your request," Pwyll announced. "One year from today, I shall make a feast for you and your bride."
On the appointed day, Gwawl took Pwyll's place at Rhiannon's side. As the feast progressed, Gwawl allowed himself to become drunk, as Pwyll had the year before. At the height of the festivities, a man dressed as a beggar entered the hall. Rhiannon smiled to herself: the Prince of Dyfed played his part well, and he had remembered to bring the magical bag which she had given him.
"I would beg a favor," Pwyll said to Gwawl.
"Continue, my good man," Gwawl answered.
"I am poor, my lord," Pwyll said. "I would ask that you fill this bag with meat."
"Surely, that is a request within reason," Gwawl laughed, and ordered the bag filled. But no matter how much food was placed within it, there was always room for more.
"This is a special bag," Pwyll explained to the astonished onlookers. "It may never be filled until a rich landed man treads upon the food."
"Do this for the man," Rhiannon urged Gwawl. "It is your place, as the head of this feast."
So Gwawl stepped into the bag, which Pwyll promptly pulled up over his head. On cue, his followers entered the hall and asked what their master had captured. "A badger," he replied, and each of his men kicked the bag.
Heveydd frowned at Rhiannon and Pwyll. "You have your victory. Beating the man you've tricked is disgraceful."
Somewhat ashamed, Pwyll ordered his followers to withdraw. "Renounce your claim on Rhiannon," he demanded of Gwawl, who lay groaning in the bag, "and swear never to try to avenge this day." Gwawl agreed, and was released.
So through Rhiannon's wit and Pwyll's willingness to accept good counsel, the marriage occurred without further difficulties, and the happy couple returned to Dyfed.
Pwyll and Rhiannon were blissfully happy with one another. Pwyll marveled at the intelligence, humor and beauty of his wife. For her part, Rhiannon was pleased that she had found a man who would talk to her, and listen to her advice.
The nobles of Dyfed were not so pleased. Pwyll had married a strange woman: she clearly practiced magical arts, and had kept him distracted during the years of their courtship. Rhiannon was used to speaking her mind; if she disagreed with the counsel a noble offered Pwyll, that man soon learned what a powerful weapon her tongue could be.
Pwyll's devotion to Rhiannon kept the nobles silent at first. But after three years, during which time no heir had been produced, the nobles petitioned Pwyll to put Rhiannon aside. "It benefits no one if you keep a barren wife," they told him.
"Wait one more year," Pwyll said. "Then we shall discuss the matter again, if I do not have a child."
Pwyll told Rhiannon about his conversation with the nobles. "So I am not well liked," she concluded, unsurprised but still a little sad. She had not made friends in her husband's land, but until that point she had not known for certain that she had made enemies. "We shall simply have to try in earnest."
Perhaps due to some medical knowledge of Rhiannon's, or perhaps simply due to nature, Rhiannon soon conceived and delivered a child before the end of the year. He was a healthy, beautiful boy, and Rhiannon thought he was well worth the pain she had suffered bearing him.
Rhiannon slept deeply after the delivery, with six women to watch over her and the new baby. But during the night, the servants all fell asleep at the same time, and when they woke the child was gone.
"We shall be killed," they wailed. And then they saw that Rhiannon still slept peacefully, unaware that her son had been taken from her arms.
"We shall say that she ate him," one woman suggested, and the others shuddered, but agreed. They knew that their mistress was not popular; the nobles would want to believe their story, and even the grieving father would have no choice.
So they found and killed a newborn litter of puppies, and smeared the blood on Rhiannon's hands and face. They chose bones that looked to be about the right size to belong to a baby, and left those scattered on the floor. When they had cleaned their own hands and disposed of the rest of the tiny corpses, they cried out and woke Rhiannon.
"We could not stop you," they wailed. Rhiannon was confused at their behavior, and frantic to find her missing child. "You devoured him!" the women told her, and went to fetch Pwyll and some of his men. By the time they arrived, Rhiannon was hysterical. She had no memory of killing her son, but could offer no alternate explaination for his disappearance. Druids inspected the bones, which they said confirmed the story of Rhiannon's women.
"I cannot believe it," Pwyll said. "She would not do such a thing."
But the nobles, now armed with evidence against Rhiannon, persisted. "She committed this unnatural crime," they said. "She deprived you of your heir. She must be punished."
"I did not do this thing," Rhiannon insisted (although, in her grief, she sometimes wondered if she had indeed killed her son in a fit of madness). "I could not have done this thing."
Pwyll was torn. He wanted desperately to believe Rhiannon: he loved her, and if she had not in fact eaten their child, then the baby might still be alive. Yet the evidence against Rhiannon seemed overwhelming.
In the end, Pwyll could not bring himself to put her aside. "But she will perform a penance," he told his nobles, who were outraged with his leniency.
So Pwyll condemned his wife to sit for seven years beside a horse-block at the gate. She had to greet visitors with her tale, and offer to bear them into the palace on her back. Rhiannon accepted this sentence without comment; her sudden loss had done much to repress her vibrant personality. Most visitors pitied Rhiannon, and could not bring themselves to allow her to carry them.
Life in Narberth continued for years in this unhappy state, until the intercession of one of Pwyll's vassals, Teirnyon Twryv Vliant.
Teirnyon had a mare, which he had owned for years before the birth of Pwyll's son. This mare always foaled on Beltane eve, and every morning the colt was missing. Teirnyon decided that he would finally solve this mystery, so brought the mare into his house before the night when she was due to foal.
The colt was born early that night, and looked normal enough. As the hours passed, Teirnyon felt vaguely disappointed, but then heard a noise outside. A clawed arm reached in through the window and grabbed the colt. Glad that he had armed himself and remained awake, Teirnyon hacked off the arm with his sword. The creature outside withdrew, making pained noises.
After a moment, Teirnyon heard a less ominous sound outside his door: a baby's wailing. On his doorstep lay a newborn, swaddled and wrapped in silk. Though somewhat suspicious, in light of the strange events of the evening, Teirnyon brought the child inside. He discussed the situation with his wife. She found the baby perfectly normal looking, and quite adorable. True, its origins were strange; but then, Teirnyon and his wife were used to odd Beltanes. They decided to adopt the baby, who they called Gwri Wallt Euryn, Gwri of the Golden Hair.
As Gwri grew older, Teirnyon could not help but notice the strong resemblance between his adopted son and his lord. And Gwri had appeared on the same night that Pwyll's son had disappeared.
"Perhaps Rhiannon did not kill her child, but was wrongly accused," Teirnyon said to his wife. "We became so used to losing colts, we didn't think what things may have been stolen from other people on Beltane."
"It would be wrong to keep Gwri from his true parents," she said. "Especially since they can provide for him in such splendid fashion, and offer him all of Dyfed as his inheritance."
So the next day, Teirnyon took Gwri to Narberth. He refused Rhiannon's offer to bear them inside, which disappointed little Gwri. At supper, Teirnyon told Pwyll and Rhiannon his story, and presented Gwri to them.
"Trouble is at an end for me," Rhiannon exclaimed happily, "if this is true."
No one who saw the boy could doubt that Pwyll was his father. The identity of the thief remained a mystery, but no one in Narberth worried overmuch about it; they had grieved too long. Gwri was renamed by the head druid, Pendaran Dyfed. He called him Pryderi, which means "trouble", because that was the first word spoken by his mother when she was reunited with her son.
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© 1998 Megan Powell. All Rights Reserved.
The Songs of Rhiannon
as written and sung by Stevie L. Nicks
Stay Away
The birds of Rhiannon sing away the pain...
Take away the darkness...
And sing you golden rainbows...
Just this minute the three birds are flying
In perfect formation...
The emerald, the gold and the snow white...
Because they have lived forever...
Down the forest pathway came the birds...
Singing their songs again...
He who wrote the sunshine...
And the skies full of gold...
The music filled the air and everything was fine...
Whatever happens to each one of us...
Will a wish be an answer...
You are and everything is fine...
If you listen carefully...
You just might hear the song of Rhiannon...
The birds are singing for us...
I can just hear them now...
Rhiannon collage by Kitten
Maker of Birds
The Three Birds of Rhiannon
A bird that is not mine...
Three birds that belong to her...
One emerald-green... one snow white...
One golden, flashing like a sunbeam through the night.
When at first he saw her...
It seemed she had no name
She sat alone, and it seemed to him...
That the light and her face were the same...
Her hair shone...
Streams of blond and gold
Her gown was no more than the water could cover...
This time would not come again
And the white mares dance...
And the Lady asked...
Take my wisdom with you... I shall ride...
And the birds are still singing...
And the song is now sweeping...
Like a silver... A silver shimmering flood...
The Song of Rhiannon
written by Evangeline Walton
Book cover illustration from the 1991 printing
view other Rhiannon covers from previous printings
Rhiannon
Rhiannon rings like a bell thru the night...
And wouldn't you love to love her...
She rules her life like a bird in flight...
Who will be her lover...
All your life you've never seen...
A woman taken by the wind
Would you stay if she promised you heaven...
Will you ever win...
She is like a cat in the dark
And then she is the darkness
She rules her life like a fine skylark...
And when the sky is starless...
Once in a million years a lady like her rises...
Take me like the wind, child...
Take me with the sky...
Dreams unwind...
Love's a state of mind...
Will you take me with you to the sky...
Rhiannon....