St Dwynwen on Llanddwyn Island, Anglesey, Wales

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If you like tales of enchanted eels, thwarted love, saintly devotion and vengeance, the history of St Dwynwen on Llanddwyn Island (Ynys Llanddwyn) in north Wales might interest you. To learn more about St Dwynwen, the Welsh patron saint of lovers, or if you want to visit this tiny island near Newborough Beach for yourself, read on.

Llanddwyn Island, Anglesey, Wales

Ynys Llanddwyn (Llanddwyn Island) is a lonely place. It can’t even be properly considered an island except at high tide. Otherwise you can walk there from Newborough Forest. It’s said to be one of the most mystical places in Wales, but as I walk through the forest from the car park then along the curved crescent of Newborough Beach with Robert Jones of Visit Wales, it’s not easy to get my head around St Dwynwen’s tale of love, devotion, magic and vengeance.

Sacred places – at least in Wales – are not all happy fairytales, and this one is a head spinner.

Saint Dwynwen

The sad story of St Dwynwen

Dwynwen was a 5th-century princess. That much we know for sure. She loved a man named Maelon Daffodrill but agreed to marry someone else, probably at the orders of her father, King Brychan Brycheiniog.

As King Brychan Brycheiniog had somewhere between 24 and 36 daughters, depending on which version of the story you believe, you wouldn’t think he’d care much who Dwynwen married, but there is no predicting the thought processes of a king. Maelon Daffodrill, who sounds so lovely and bright because his name practically spells daffodil, didn’t take the news in a bright and cheery fashion at all.

He was so angry he attacked (many say raped) Dwynwen, ruining her dreams of pure innocent love forever.

Newborough Beach

Then Maelon Daffodrill was frozen into a block of ice (effectively ‘cooling’ his passion), Dwynwen became a recluse on Llanddwyn Island and threw curses and evil spirits down at her ex love into a well full of enchanted eels. (Look, I didn’t write the story, I’m just trying to report the facts.)

Pillow lava, the ancient stone of Llanddwyn Island

So how did Dwynwen become the Welsh patron saint of lovers?

A valid question. Well. Angels came down and granted Dwynwen three wishes. She wished:

1. to unfreeze Maelon Daffodrill, because she was more forgiving than I’d ever be
2. to never have to get married
3. to devote her life to giving solace and help to ‘true-hearted lovers’

Other women who wanted to devote their lives to God came to join her, and the cult of St Dwynwen on Llanddwyn Island was born. The slim finger-shaped island became a popular pilgrimage destination, and today, people in Wales celebrate St Dwynwen’s Day on January 25th, making it the Welsh version of Valentine’s Day.

Following the path

St Dwynwen on Llanddwyn Island

So now I’m standing on Llanddwyn Island for myself. It’s a rocky island formed by some of the oldest rock in Great Britain, ancient Precambrian rock that billowed up as lava when tectonic plates collided deep below the sea. Overtop, like a wispy skin, floats a layer of scrub and grasses and wildflowers.

Dwynwen’s Church

Robert and I stop at the husk of Dwynwen’s Church, a 16th-century building probably built on the site of her original chapel. A broken wall forms a stone picture frame against the windswept grasses and bluebells, and I look out over the same views St Dwynwen must have seen: Snowdonia in the distance and the glassy waves of the Irish Sea.

A lonely island

The mysterious well of St Dwynwen

“Where’s the well?” I ask Robert. One of the biggest draws to the island, especially in the Middle Ages, was a holy well. It was believed that a lover’s faithfulness could be divined through the movements of the magical eels that lived inside.

It’s long grown over, he explains, pointing out the faint trace of an uneven circle of rocks. Then, as he heads back to Newborough Beach, I linger, weaving my way through the scrub to the well.

The stony remains

A sacred place

I want to get a sense of why the island has become such a sacred destination and why, over the centuries, thousands of people hoping for love, nursing broken hearts or wanting to know if their partners have been unfaithful, have come to seek out Saint Dwynwen on Llanddwyn Island.

Perching on a stone that marks the outline of the well, hoping curses aren’t going to start flying out at me like screeching crows, I try to picture Dwynwen standing here, howling her bitter curses down at Maelon Daffodrill. It’s so at odds with her otherwise saintly behaviour, but that’s what makes the story so compelling and complex.

Enchanted eels?

I don’t feel any remnants of evil spirits seeping out of the soil, and no eels or snakes come slithering out of the ground carrying dark poisonous spells. It’s tremendously tranquil, and I like the fact that wildflowers have grown over the curse-strewn well, as if the curses have burrowed their way back deep into the dark ancient rock, while St Dwynden now lies at peace.