Today, Llangollen is a small town on the north-western corner of Wales that's most famous for it's International Music Eisteddfod held each July and Thomas Telford's Pontcysyllte Canal. Few remember that the town is named after St Collen the seventh century saint. Indeed, there has been a church in Llangollen since at least the sixth century and the image on the left shows the ruins of Llangollen Abbey, torn hown during Henry VIII's 'Dissolution of the Monasteries'.

The tale of St Collen and Gwyn fab Nudd is well known in folklore and was first recorded as Buchedd Collen (the Life of St Collen) on page 141 of the 1536 Hafod MS 19. This was translated in part and added to the endnotes of Charlotte Guest's translation of the Mabinogion.

In the tale given below I will use the text of the original manuscript to tell the tale of St Collen's life and I will employ the still-extant folktale on which to base the story itself.

The Tale of St Collen and Gwyn son of Nudd

Collen was the son of Gwynoc ap Cedybog ap Cowrda ap Caradog Freichfras ap Llŷr. St Collen's mother was Ethinen the Irishwoman, daughter of Matholwch lord of Ireland. When Collen was seven he learnt the service of god and the lady Mary. Without pause in his upbringing he went to Orleans in France to learn and he dwelt there for six months. Then he heard of the battles the pope was fighitng with the pagans (the men of Burras) and the pope dreamt of a man at Hampton Port and he crossed land and see to encounter this man. There he saw Collen and kenw that this was the man his vision had shown him. Taking Collen with him the pope returned to the field of battle. And the man known as Burras came there with his men. Burras strode forward to meet with Collen and Collen saw a tall man with a sword at his side and a basynet upon his head. And at the crown of this basynet was a miraculous ointment. Burras handed Collen a naked sword and told him to fight. He then told Collen that he was certain to wound him and that if Collen was truly a man of god then god would heal him.

They joined din battle and true to his word Burras slashed with his blade and cut Collen across the hand. Burras sheathed his sword and removed his basynet and told Collen if only he would hold Burras' god as the true god then his wound would be healed. Collen snatched the basynet from Burras, applied some of the ointment on his hand, whereupon it was healed. But to ensure that neither could use the ointment again Collen threw the basynet into a nearby river. Thereupon combat was rejoined and Burras struck Collen a second time, whereupon Collen struck Burras beneath his armpit and his sword pierced lung and liver, both. Burras implored Collen to spare him, saying the if he was spered he would acknowlege Collen's god above all others.

Collen returnet to Britain via Cornwall and from there he went to the Monastery of Glastonbury where he dwelt for only three months before he was elected Abbot. Then he received a petition from his parish and chose to pursue a harder path than being an Abbot. He went to preach amongst the people where he was for three years. From thence he returned to the monastery where he dwelt for five years. At this point he became enraged at the people for their wrongs and he damned them. Whereupon he climbed Glastonbury Tor and there he made himself a cell under the shelter of a rock in a remote and secluded spot.

As Collen was spending his eriod of mortification within his secluded cell, one day he heard the sund of voices approaching. As they came nearer he heard that they were discoursing of Gwyn fab Nudd and his two-fold kingly character as Lord of Annwfn and King of the Fair-folk.

Unable to bear any more Collen stuck his head out of his cell and reproacing the men — 'hold your tongues, quickly', he said, 'for they are no more than devils.' The strangers turned to face him and one of them looked at him sternly, saying: 'hold your tongue, foolist man, or you will receive your reproof from him in person.' At this Collen merelyy huffed before retreating into his cell and shutting the door as before.

Not long after and Collen heard a knocking on the door of his cell and a voice enquired if he was within. 'I am', responded Collen, adding: 'who is it that asks?'

'I am the messenger of Gwyn fab Nudd', responded the voice, 'and I have come on the behest of the Lord of Annwfn, whom you have impuned, to command you to come forth and meet him at the summit of this hill at noon.'

But Collen ignored the summons, returning to his devotions instead, and the next day, at the same time, the messenger returned — once more imperiously ordering Collen to attend his master at the top of the hill and this time saying: 'who are you to be so rude about our Lord, after all are you not a guest in this land? Maybe this time you will not be so rude in your response to this request'.

But once more Collen had no intention of answering the summons and he returned to his devotions. But the next day he was disturbed once more by loud knocking on his cell's door. This time the messenger began with: 'little man, our Lord will not wait forever. But he kindly requests that you put away any hostilities that you have against him and that you but attend his court and his table. He is eager to make the acquaintance of such a wise man as you and merely desires to talk of your god. He gives his promise that no harm will come to you. Again he asks for your audience at noon on the summit of this hill.'

This time Collen decides to go and visit Gwyn fab Nudd so he responds: 'It seems that I will gain no peace until I go. Tell your master that I will come at noon. Now, begone!'

A little before noon and Collen prepared himself by donning his robe though as a precaution he filled a bottle with holy water which he secreted in the folds of his robe. Then taking his staff he made his way towards the summit of the hill. When he reached the hilltop he was dissapointed to see that nothing and no one was there, despite the sun being at its zenith. But almost at the instant he had this thought a castle appeared before him and the air was filled with the sound of joyous celebration and the rich scents of roasting meats. Before the castle stood an honour guard of troops arrayed in ranks, their armour shining in the sun. Before them danced musicians playing flutes, drums, lyres and all manner of instruments that he had never seen nor heard before. It was almost as if he were being seranaded as the music danced upon the breeze.

As Collen walked towards the castle gaily-dressed people danced about him and young men rode across the hilltop, each colourfully arrayed in rainments of red, green and blue. These were the most graceful and beautiful people that Collen had ever seen. Even within the court there was such merriment and happiness that Collen believed they must be celebrating some special event or occasion. He was greeted by a courtier arrayed in blue shot through with gold and he was ushered into the great hall.

Gwyn fab Nudd, Lord of Annwfn was there to greet him, seated as he was on golden throne covered with snakes and the arms of his chair were fashioned into the forms of two great ram-horned serpents. Gwyn's golden hair glitteres and his green eyes sparkled as they turned to look upon his guest. Then he spoke, his deep vice booming against the rafters of the hall. 'Welcom, wise man,' he said, 'I am pleased the one so honourable and knowledgeable as you wiould agree to accept my invitation.'

'I agreed only to rid myself of your troublesome minions and to regain my peace and solitude', Collen replied.

'Were they wearisome, did they annoy you?' Gwyn asked. 'No matter, for that is past. Come, join me, and all you see before you is yours dear saint. Come, partake of my food and of my drinks and I am sure that you will agree that this repast is the finest that you will ever have tasted.'

'I am neither hungry nor thirsty', Collen responded, his visage showing no delight at the delicacies he saw before him.

'It matters not,' replied Gwyn, 'for I can regale you with the finest poets, the most diverting converstation, the best dancers and musicians — all to entertain you.'

'I do not wish to talk,' responded Collen, 'nor do I wish to hear music and singing nor to listen to music. Neither do I wish to see amy more of your kingdom!'

'You refuse everything I offer?' Gwyn asked in wonderment, 'Is this land not a pleasant one, does not the singing and music delight you. Do not my young men amaze you in their splendour!'

'Your land is pleasant enough,' replied Collen, 'but the rainment of those youths you speak of reveal the truth of your realm. For the red of their garb is nought but the flames of hell and the blue of their cloaks reveals the true coldness of this place.'

This said the saint leapt to his feet and taking the bottle of holy water from his garments he unstoppered it and cast drops of the water in a circle about him. Instantly Gwyn vanished along with his courtiers the table the knights the musicians, minstrels and dancers. Finally the court itself fadad away into nothing leaving Collen alone upon the hill.

The saint made his way back to his cell, resumed his meditations and was not troubled by the fair folk any more.

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This folk-tale ostensibly shows the triumph of Christianity over the pagan gods of old. But it also shows the mean-spiritness of the new religion compared with the joie de vivre of the old. What it really shows is that the old world of Gwyn fab Nudd and the new world of Collen cannot co-exist. Interestingly Collen is also revealed to have feet of clay in this tale as it is his own pride and anger that lead him to the life of a hermit in the first place.