The Tale of Gelert the Brave

Thou hast not trod with pilgrim foot the ground

Where sleeps the canine martyr of distrust…

North Wales, John Critchley Prince

Nestled in the shadows of the mountains and hills of Eryi, where the rivers Glaslyn and Colwyn meet, lies the village of Beddgelert.

Many, many years ago, this village fell under the dominion of Llywelyn the Great, Prince of Gwynedd.

As is common with princes, Llywelyn delighted in battle and leading epic hunting expeditions through the wilds. Yet, above all these pursuits, he loved two treasures more than anything else in the world: his baby son, Dafydd, and his faithful hound, Gelert. 

Gelert was a mighty hunting dog, said by some to perhaps even be the fastest and strongest hound in all of Wales. Maybe even the world, Llywelyn would proudly say. 

Every year, Llywelyn and his canine companion would ride with hounds, horns and hunters, thundering across the valleys of North Wales in pursuit of game.

But one year, things would not go as planned. 

On the morning of one of his great hunts, Llywelyn strode through his courtyard making sure everything was in order. The horses were saddled, the spears were sharpened, the men were in high spirits. He then noticed that Gelert was nowhere to be seen.

“Strange”, he must have thought. “Gelert is usually at the head of the pack of hounds, eager to set off.”

Just then, he heard his servants causing a commotion back inside the castle. He followed the trail of noise to Dayfydd’s room to find Gelert standing sentry next to the baby’s crib. He realised the dog was simply being as faithful as ever. 

“You mustn’t let a hunting dog near the baby, Sire. Especially not one as big and fearsome as this one,” muttered a servant. 

Llywelyn could only laugh. He reassured his servants that no harm would come to Dafydd — not from Gelert, nor from anything else for that matter while such a guardian kept watch.

So, Llywelyn set off into the wilderness, hoping to find a deer, or maybe even a wild boar. 

Mountains of Snowdonia. Credit to Lina Kivaka.

Hours passed, and as the last light of the day retreated behind the Welsh hills, Llywelyn rode his weary party back to the castle for respite. 

As they returned to the courtyard, Llywelyn was surprised not to be greeted by the familiar sight of Gelert bounding towards him. At first, he didn’t think much of it. The dog was simply taking his role as Dafydd’s protector seriously. 

Suddenly, much like earlier that day, the Prince heard a huge commotion coming from his son’s chambers, except this time the noise was more violent and desperate. 

Without a second thought, he ran to the bedroom, sword drawn. The castle had now fallen still. An eerie, deathly silence clung to the air. All he could hear was his own anxious heartbeat as he opened the bedroom door. 

There was Gelert. The hound stood panting, surrounded by piles of torn bedding and fur rugs.

The crib was toppled beside him. Llywelyn saw no sign of his beloved son. A chill gripped his chest. 

Gelert noticed his master and approached him. That was when Llywelyn noticed the dog’s teeth were wet with blood. 

“Monster,” he whispered, his voice shaken by grief and anger. It seemed the faithful hound had turned. 

The Prince did not hesitate. 

Steel flashed. 

His sword swiftly cut through the air. 

Gelert fell to the floor with a single whelp that echoed through the castle’s stone corridors. The eerie silence returned as Llywelyn dropped to his knees and let go of his bloody sword. 

But then, he heard a faint sound. A baby’s cry. 

Llywelyn scrambled over to the overturned cot and unfolded the shredded bedding. There he saw his son, stirred but completely unharmed. The Prince took his son up into his arms.

Beside the child’s bed was not a pile of fur rugs, but the twisted body of a grey wolf, slain by Gelert. 

He dropped beside Gelert as tears filled his eyes. “How could I ever think you, brave Gelert, would harm Dafydd.”

Gelert had not betrayed him, he had saved his son from a wolf that had crept in through the window.

After handing the baby over to a loyal servant, Llywelyn picked up the body of the hound and walked it outside of the castle, into the centre of the village. 

He told the crowd what had happened, and, the next day, they held a funeral fit for a king for the courageous dog. The whole of Gwynedd mourned and built a stone memorial for the hound in a field behind the village, on the banks of the Glaslyn.

No-one grieved more than Llywelyn the Great, who is said to have never smiled again. 

The village took the name Beddgelert, meaning Gelert’s grave. 

For Harper 

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I know what you’re thinking, that’s not a very happy story. Aren't stories meant to be happy?

You might now know how I felt when I first heard it in primary school and wondered if my teacher hated me and wanted me to cry and suffer.

I suppose you might feel better knowing that, like much of folklore, it probably didn’t happen.

In fact, the village isn’t even really named after Gelert, as it is probably named after Celert, an early Christian missionary. That’s just boring though, right?

Additionally, the story doesn’t come from the medieval age. Both the tale and grave were established in the late 18th-century by a local pub landlord to attract travellers (craft git).

The faithful hound motif is found in folklore across the world and I’d argue the Lady and the Tramp film is inspired by this story (or at the very least one of the other variants). I thought that whilst rewatching the film recently, but Wikipedia also says this so it must be true.

However, folklore and myth is also steeped in history, and the tale of Gelert the brave is no different.

There did live a Llywelyn the Great, who ruled over Gwynedd and other parts of Wales. And, he really did have a son called Dafydd. I wouldn’t really say it’s a stretch to claim that he did love hunting and had a great big pack of hounds, either, given the times.

I think what the story is truly trying to say is that dogs are man's best friend.

But, you probably shouldn't let them babysit your child whilst you go out hunting wild boar or to pick up a Costa either.

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Who was Gelert?

Gelert is a legendary hound in Welsh folklore, said to be the faithful dog of Prince Llywelyn the Great.

Who was Llywelyn the Great, historically?

Llywelyn ab Iorwerth, known as Llywelyn the Great, was a medieval rules of Gwynedd and other parts of Wales, until his death in 1240.

 Is the story of Gelert true?

The story of Gelert the Brave is a folk-tale. The grave and narrative was constructed in the late 18th-century by a local innkeeper.

Can you visit the site today?

Yes! The grave of Gelert is a tourist attraction in Beddgelert, North Wales.

What is the 'faithful hound' motif?

The faithful hound motif is a story where a dog is commonly left to guard a child, and the dog then kills a predator threatening the child. The returning parent(s) misunderstand the scene and scold/kill the dog. To their remorse, they discover their mistake.

What are other examples of faithful hound stories?

There is France's Guinefort, and as I mentioned above, I would argue the end of Lady and the Tramp follows the same theme (luckily without death).