'Itinerarium
Cambriae'
The Journey Through Wales
CHAPTER
5
Our
journey takes us past Usk Castle and through Caerleon.
In
Usk Castle a large group of men was signed with the Cross.
This was the result of the Archbishop’s sermon and of
an address by that good and honest man, William, Bishop
of Llandaff, who remained constantly at our side as long
as we were in his diocese. Alexander, Archdeacon of Bangor,
acted as interpreter for the Welsh. To the great astonishment
of everyone present, and it was, indeed, an extraordinary
circumstance, some of the most notorious criminals of
those parts were among those converted, robbers, highwaymen
and murderers.
We
went through Caerleon, passing far away on our left Monmouth
Castle and the great Forest of Dean, which is across the
Wye, but still on this side of the Severn, and which supplies
Gloucester with venison and iron ore. We spent the night
in Newport. We had to cross the River Usk three times.
Caerleon is the modern name of the City of the Legions.
In Welsh ‘caer’ means a city or encampment. The legions
sent to this island by the Romans had the habit of wintering
in this spot, and so it came to be called the City of
the Legions. Caerleon is of unquestioned antiquity. It
was constructed with great care by the Romans, the walls
being built of brick. You can still see many vestiges
of its one-time splendour. There are immense palaces,
which, with the gilded gables of their roofs, once rivalled
the magnificence of ancient Rome. They were set up in
the first place by some of the most eminent men of the
Roman state, and they were therefore embellished with
every architectural conceit. There is a lofty tower, and
beside it remarkable hot baths, the remains of temples
and an amphitheatre. All this is enclosed within impressive
walls, parts of which still remain standing. Wherever
you look, both within and without the circuit of these
walls, you can see constructions dug deep into the earth,
conduits for water, underground passages and air-vents.
Most remarkable of all to my mind are the stoves, which
once transmitted heat through narrow pipes inserted in
the side-walls and which are built with extraordinary
skill.
Two
men of noble birth, Julius and Aaron, suffered martyrdom
there and were buried in the city. Each had a church named
after him. Next to Albanus and Amphibalus, they were the
most famous protomartyrs of Great Britain. In former times
there were three fine churches in Caerleon. The first
was named after Julius the martyr: this was graced by
a choir of nuns dedicated to the service of God. The second
was founded in the name of Saint Aaron, his comrade: this
was noted for its distinguished chapter of canons. The
third was famed far and wide as the metropolitan church
for the whole of Wales. Amphibalus, who taught Saint Albanus
and instructed him in the true faith, was born in this
place.
Caerleon
is beautifully situated on the bank of the River Usk.
When the tide comes in, ships sail right up to the city.
It is surrounded by woods and meadows. It was here that
the Roman legates came to seek audience at the great Arthur’s
famous court. Here, too, Archbishop Dyfrig handed over
his supreme function to David of Menevia, for the metropolitan
see was moved from Caerleon in accordance with the prophecy
of Merlin Ambrosius: ‘Menevia shall be dressed in the
pall of the City of the Legions,’ and so on.
High
above the water, and not far from Caerleon, there stands
a rocky eminence which dominates the River Severn. In
the English language it is called Goldcliff, the Golden
Rock. When the sun’s rays strike it, the stone shines
very bright and takes on a golden sheen.
"I
could not ever think that quite without intent
Dame Nature had such splendour to the high rocks lent,
Or that so fair a flower could be without its fruit."
If
someone who was skilled in such work would only dig down
into the mineral deposits and penetrate the very entrails
of the earth, he might extract sweet honey from the stone
and oil from the rock. Indeed, many of nature’s riches
still lie hidden from us, undiscovered as yet because
we have given no attention to them, but the diligence
and careful enquiry of later generations will no doubt
reveal them. Sheer urgent necessity set our ancestors
on the way of inventing certain of the amenities of human
existence. In the same way zeal and industry have brought
advantages to those who have come after, while their superior
intellectual powers have made many things available to
our contemporaries. That is what the poet meant, when
he said that there were two reasons for discoveries of
this sort:
"Hard
work finds its reward,
Unwelcome though it be, and need
when times are hard."
It
is worth relating that in our days there lived in the
neighbourhood of this City of the Legions a certain Welshman
called Meilyr who could explain the occult and foretell
the future. He acquired his skill in the following way.
One evening, and, to be precise, it was Palm Sunday, he
happened to meet a girl whom he had loved for a long time.
She was very beautiful, the spot was an attractive one,
and it seemed too good an opportunity to be missed. He
was enjoying himself in her arms and tasting her delights,
when suddenly, instead of the beautiful girl, he found
in his embrace a hairy creature, rough and shaggy, and,
indeed, repulsive beyond words. As he stared at the monster
his wits deserted him and he became quite mad. He remained
in this condition for many years. Eventually he recovered
his health in the church of St David’s, thanks to the
virtues of the saintly men of that place. All the same,
he retained a very close and most remarkable familiarity
with unclean spirits, being able to see them, recognizing
them, talking to them and calling them each by his own
name, so that with their help he could often prophesy
the future. Just as they are, too, he was often mistaken
about events in the distant future, or happenings far
away in space; but he was less often wrong about matters
nearer home or likely to occur within the coming year.
He nearly always saw these spirits standing close beside
him and near at hand. They would appear in the form of
huntsmen, with horns hanging round their necks, but it
was human souls which they were pursuing, not animals
or wild beasts. He saw them most often and in greatest
numbers outside monasteries and houses of religion. Wherever
man is in revolt, there they deploy their full battalions,
there they need their greatest strength. Whenever anyone
told a lie in his presence, Meilyr was immediately aware
of it, for he saw a demon dancing and exulting on the
liar’s tongue. Although he was completely illiterate,
if he looked at a book which was incorrect, which contained
some false statement, or which aimed at deceiving the
reader, he immediately put his finger on the offending
passage. If you asked him how he knew this, he said that
a devil first pointed out the place with its finger. In
the same way, and again with a demon to help him, whenever
he went into the dormitory of a monastery, he would point
to the bed of any false monk whose religion was a pretext
and did not come from the heart. He maintained that the
vice of gluttony and greed was sordid beyond words; the
vice of lust and libidinousness was perhaps more pleasing
to the eye, but it was really even more foul. When he
was harassed beyond endurance by these unclean spirits,
Saint John’s Gospel was placed on his lap, and then they
all vanished immediately, flying away like so many birds.
If the Gospel were afterwards removed and the "History
of the Kings of Britain" by Geoffrey of Monmouth
put there in its place, just to see what would happen,
the demons would alight all over his body, and on the
book, too, staying there longer than usual and being even
more demanding. Barnabas, one remembers, or so we read
in the stories told about him, used to place Saint Matthew’s
Gospel on people who were ill, and they were cured immediately.
It is clear from this, and so it is, indeed, from the
account which I have just given to you, how much respect
and reverence we owe to each of the books of the Gospel.
It is equally clear that anyone who knowingly perjures
himself on one of the Gospels deviates from the path of
truth with great danger to himself and with the risk of
eternal damnation.
To
what has gone before I add the story of the downfall of
Enoch, Abbot of Strata Marcella, which disaster is quite
notorious and, indeed, well known to everyone in Wales.
Meilyr announced it to a great number of people on the
very day following the night on which it happened. The
date on which he made this announcement was noted carefully,
and many who heard what he said remembered having done
so: yet it was only eight days or so later that definite
information arrived and that the affair became common
knowledge. When they came to ask Meilyr how he learned
of it, he said that the very next morning a demon visited
him in the guise of a huntsman. This spirit told Meilyr
the whole story, saying that the Abbot would be ruined,
for he himself had persuaded him to run away from his
monastery and take a nun with him. The demon was very
pleased with his success and exulted over Enoch’s downfall.
Maybe this was allowed to happen so that the Abbot might
be humiliated and reprimanded. It certainly seemed so
from what happened subsequently, for Enoch soon came back,
a much humbler man and so much chastened that he could
hardly be said to have sinned at all. As Seneca wrote:
'Anyone who rises to his feet even stronger after a fall
can hardly be said to have fallen at all.' After he had
denied Christ, Peter was stronger than ever. Paul was
stronger after he had been persecuted and stoned: 'for
where sin abounds, grace will much more abound'. After
her fall from grace, Mary Magdalene was stronger than
before.
Meilyr
revealed in confidence to Cynan, the good and saintly
Abbot of Whitland, his opinion of a certain woman whom
he had been observing closely. Thereupon the holy man
wept and confessed that he had lusted after her. He let
himself be whipped by three of his monks, this being the
punishment for incontinence. From his long experience
of things and by natural intuition, drawing his conclusions
from certain conjectural signs and from his knowledge
of what has happened in the past, the Old Enemy can foretell
the future with great skill. In the same way, and by taking
note of the same revealing signs, he can insinuate himself
into men’s hearts, and sometimes discover the workings
of their minds from exterior appearances.
About
this same time an incubus frequented Nether Gwent. There
he was in the habit of making love to a certain young
woman. He often visited the place where she lived, and
in his conversations with the local inhabitants he revealed
many secret matters and events which had not yet occurred.
Meilyr was questioned about this and he said that he knew
the incubus well. He even said what his name was. He maintained
that whenever war was imminent, or some great upset in
a country, these incubuses were in the habit of visiting
human beings. This was soon proved to be true: for shortly
afterwards Hywel, the son of Iorwerth of Caerleon, attacked
the neighbourhood and destroyed the whole area. A little
later Henry II, King of the English, captured the King
of Scotland and so restored peace to his own realm. As
a result Hywel had good reason to fear that Henry would
be free to take vengeance on him for the war which he
had waged. He was relieved of his anxiety by this statement
made to him by Meilyr. 'Hywel,' said he, 'you need not
fear the King’s anger. In a short time he will have to
turn his attention elsewhere. One of his cities, the noblest
which he possesses across the Channel, is being besieged
by the King of the French. He will be forced to put aside
all other preoccupations and to cross the sea without
losing a moment.' Three days later Hywel received the
news that this had indeed come about, for the city of
Rouen was being besieged. Meilyr also prophesied long
before the event the investment of Usk Castle, which Hywel
had held for some time. He forewarned Hywel, who occupied
the castle, in the following way, saying that he himself
would be wounded in the engagement, but not killed, for
he would escape from the town alive. Only in this detail
was he wrong, for Meilyr died soon afterwards from the
wound which he had received. The Enemy knows how to favour
his friends, but this is how he rewards them in the end.
It
seems most odd to me, among all these other remarkable
circumstances, that Meilyr was able to see these demons
clearly with the eyes in his head. Spirits cannot be seen
with our physical eyes, unless they themselves assume
corporal substance. Given that they had assumed such corporal
substance, and thus made themselves visible, how was it
that they could not be seen by other individuals who were
assuredly present and were standing quite near? Possibly
they could be seen only by some supernatural sort of physical
vision, rather like that in the Book of Daniel, when King
Belshazzar saw the writing on the wall: 'Mene, Tekel,
Peres', which means 'numbered, weighed, divided'. That
same night Belshazzar lost both his kingdom and
his life.
Wales
knows only too well how, in this same neighbourhood and
in our own times, through a blind lust for conquest and
through a rupture of all the ties of common blood and
family connection, evil example has spread far and wide
throughout the land, and good faith has disappeared, to
be replaced by shameful perfidy.
