Cerridwen’s Cauldron; Stealing from Old Mother Universe by Kelle ban Dea

The story of how Cerridwen, the witch goddess, brews a magic potion full of awen (inspiration) which is then accidentally imbibed by the boy Gwion Bach, is well loved across the Western world, especially by neo-Druids. Gwion Bach is then reborn as Taliesin, the greatest bard in Britain. It is a typical heroes tale, with Cerridwen as the muse and initiatrix.

Or is it? This tale has always left a funny taste in my mouth, and when I recently read The Broken Cauldron by Lorna Smithers, I understood why. In the oldest version we have of this tale, Gwion Bach doesn’t accidentally taste the awen. He steals it.

And then the cauldron breaks, and the rest of the potion spills out and poisons the land.

This version is reminiscent of other tales across the ‘Celtic’ world, where the cauldrons or chalices of magical women are stolen or broken, the women’s power dented by theft or rape, and the land left suffering as a result, usually either by flood or conversely, drought. It’s a recurring theme, and one that ecofeminists see as symbolic of both patriarchy’s oppression of women and exploitation of the Earth. These women are representative of the Goddess of Sovereignty, who personifies the land and determines who is fit to rule it. A king has to make a pact with the goddess to protect the land and its people.

Except, the myths tell us, at some point the kings and ‘heroes’ realized they could just rape and steal instead, and thus the women retreat into the Otherworld and the land becomes a Wasteland.

These motifs seem so obvious, that I cannot fathom why for so long they have been read as hero tales rather than the exact opposite – tales which tell us how heroes are too often in fact violent men, and glory is usually synonymous with conquest. Someone always gets hurt, but its the victors who get to tell and, for far too long now, interpret the stories.

I prefer Smithers interpretation. She refers to Cerridwen as ‘a goddess I have come to know as Old Mother Universe. Traditionally the cauldron symbolizes inspiration, wisdom and rebirth. When it is broken or stolen, cataclysmic consequences are unleashed.’^[1] But most interpretations of this tale focus on Taliesin’s exploits and ignore the consequences of the broken cauldron and stolen magic.

The stolen or broken cauldron turns up again in a Welsh mythic poem – allegedly by Taliesin himself – called the Spoils of Annwfn. Annwfn is the Celtic Other/Underworld and home to a magical cauldron of inspiration and rebirth tended by nine priestesses. Taliesin accompanies the famed hero, King Arthur, and his warriors in a raid on Annwfn to steal the cauldron. Slaughter and bloodshed ensue. Only seven men return home. This is all worth it, because the legendary heroes have their prize.

In the story of Branwen, who I have written about here previously, the cauldron of rebirth is stolen from a giantess and given to a king who uses it to resurrect fallen warriors into silent, undead warriors. Killing machines. This is clearly part of an ancient myth, as we see this motif on the 1st century CE artifact the Cauldron of Gundestrup (though here the warriors are likely being rebirthed into the Otherworld rather than as killer zombies.) The cauldron of rebirth is ancient, but mankind has corrupted it. Spilt poisoned brew across the land.

Later in the tale, Branwen’s brutal half-brother Efnisien kills her infant son by throwing him onto the fire and then, presumably in a fit of remorse, throws himself into the cauldron, shattering it so it can no longer be used. This is perhaps the most brutal of all the tales, one that always makes me shudder when I read it.

The nine maidens who tend the cauldron are also a recurring motif, although in the later Arthurian tales they have become nine witches, and are (of course) slaughtered by the hero, as in the tale of Peredur.

If the cauldron of rebirth and inspiration represents the womb of the Goddess, as most seem to interpret it, or the very Feminine itself, then what does it mean that our supposed heroes have stolen and broken it? That our heroic tales seem completely unconcerned about the consequences but celebrate their manly protagonists? Only Branwen’s tale seems to present the real horror without restraint, and it is perhaps not surprising that scholars have theorized that this was in fact first written down by a woman.

To return to Cerridwen herself, I believe we need new retellings, like Smithers’, that in fact return us to what is surely the core and truth of this tale. Cerridwen is not simply a witch-muse, whose role is to inspire and birth the hero and then disappear from the narrative; she is the narrative.The goddess who brews the awen and who is in charge of death and rebirth. Old Mother Universe herself.

In truth, mankind’s theft does not diminish Old Mother Universe. How can it? She goes on destroying stars, birthing worlds and creating life. Galaxies will continue to swirl without our input. The ones we harm are ourselves, and the very ecosystem we depend on for survival.

The ones we steal from our descendants.

And so we must do what we can to repair the cauldron, before we are left in a Wasteland once again.

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^[1] Smithers, Lorna The Broken Cauldron (2021) Ritona Press