INTRODUCTION:
BEFORE THERE WAS A ME THERE WERE FAMILIES
You don’t pick your ancestors. They don’t pick you either. You sort of happen to them and they’re kind of stuck with you and you with them. They give a little something of themselves to you called genes. You take these scraps and build upon them, add to them and come up with a new creature called you. Some of that start up material you may like, some not so much. You may have great, great grandmother Sarah’s eyes and granduncle Elmer’s hair or lack of. Perhaps you got a cute button nose from mother or a big honking honker from father.
Maybe some special talent flowed through family blood to your veins, an artistic bent or ability to lead. Weaknesses may twirl down the spiral of DNA as well. There may be a history of drink, of temper, of shyness or you may always be too skinny or too fat because that’s just the way the family mutated.
Whatever your families sowed through the centuries of being is in the seeds of your existence. Hopefully you make the best of the good and least of the bad inherent within you. It doesn’t matter who your family was; you are a new beginning. Still it can be interesting knowing whether the tree you dropped off of was Golden Delicious or Crabapple.
These are briefly my family roots.
I
MEREDITHS
Families can be a royal pain, quite literally. There are red-blooded Americans and Blue Bloods and sometimes we find our selves stained by a bit of ancient purple.
This is the Legend of Meredith.
Maelgwn visited Maeldav the Old. A number of scholars, who spend their lives worrying about such things, believe Maeldav was the same wizard known as Merlin in the King Arthurian Myths. (Indeed, there are those who propose Maelgwn as the model of King Arthur.) Maeldav the Old prepared a chair constructed from waxed bird wings. Maelgwn sat upon his chair the longest since it rose and floated above the tide. Because of this deception, the people declared him Chief Prince and bestowed the title Maredudd upon him. The exact meaning of this word is not certain, but may mean Protector of the Sea.1
The title Maredudd eventually became a surname and the spelling evolved through Maredydd to become Meredith. The proper pronunciation is Ma-Red-ith, not Mare-Dith. My family used Ma-Red-ith when I was a child, but at some point my father surrendered to the more common use of Mare-Dith.
“I got tired ev’ry time I gave my name they said, ‘Spell it’. I spelled it and they’d say, ‘Oh, Mare-Dith,’ I jus’ got tired of spellin’ it.”
I discovered as a young man, despite how I might announce myself, everybody still asked me to spell my last name, except in Dallas where Don Meredith was a hero.
Maelgwn, who is an actual historic figure (c.497 - c.560 AD), was my 43-Great Grandfather. He had at least two children (and probably many more not recorded), a son named Rhun and a daughter Gwawr. In case you wonder, that was pronounced either as Go-AAR (heavy on the a) or Goo-aar (a bit more feminine). It was probably considered a pretty name for a girl of her native tongue since gwawr means “dawn”.
To just give equal time to both these offspring, Rhun is pronounced as Rheen and means charm and mystery.
Gwawr may not be what you would name your daughter and I certainly didn’t name either of my daughters that; nonetheless Gwawr was my 42-Great Grandmother married to one Eliylt Llydanwyn ap Meirchion. This was a period long before surnames came into existence. The little word “ap” means “son of”; therefore, Eliylt was the son of Meirchion.
Eliylt and Gwawr begat Llywarch Hen ap Elidir (note the slight change in the spelling of Elitlt). Llywarch allegedly had 42 children. His wives are not noted. (It is an assumption on my part that with 42 children he probably had more than one woman in his life.)
As one can begin to see, my family tree is a web of odd relationships, because Rhun is also my 43-Great Grandfather, indicating he and his sister Gwawr began two separate lines of my father’s ancestors. (It also indicates Rhun shared a wife with his father, but the less said about such things the better. This is not the last of such entanglements and confused couplings, which will ve gotten to some more a bit later and in a more recent period.)
Meanwhile, Rhun begat Beli and so forth and after many permutations we reach my 32-Great Grandfather Rhodri “Mawr” (“Mawr” meaning “the Great”) ap Merfyn, King of Wales, 855 AD-878 AD (pictured right). From there we continued through a number of kings and princes until Gruffydd ap Cynan, Prince of Gwunedd in
Llywelyn Fawr was great enough in his day that he took as a wife the illegitimate daughter of John Lackland, known as Joan of England (pictured right). John Lackland was King John of England at the time and is best known for signing the Magna Carta. As a result of this union I am a 24th cousin to Queen Elizabeth II. I suppose if enough people were to die, I would have a claim to the British crown.
All this is ancient history having little to do with who I am today. It is interesting to discover one has a bit of Royal DNA, but it doesn’t buy me any castles or put a farthing in my pocket. Yet there is an interesting tidbit, a coincidence of time, in this past.
Llywelyn Fawr had a son named Gruffydd who had a son also named Llywelyn (pictured left). This was Llywelyn the Last, the final REAL Prince of Wales. He was also a 4th Cousin. Cousin Llywelyn the Last died at Buellt (Bu-lith) on December 11, 1282 during King Edward I of England’s conquest of Wales. As Fate often does just to have a giggle, the soldier who killed my cousin Llywelyn, was an ancestor of my friend, Ronald Tipton.
Of course much of history is full of uncertainty and some dispute exactly who killed Llywelyn the Last and in what manner. According to legend, he was accidentally chanced upon (which is basically true). A soldier completely unaware of who he was slew him. Sir Robert Brody was the alleged soldier named in contemporary ballads of the time. Other accounts claim while the captured Llywelyn was kneeling in prayer Stephen Frankton of Ellesmere came behind and struck off his head. It is a fact Llywellyn’s head was carried to King Edward and displayed on the Tower of London.2
King Edward had the audacity to proclaim his own son the Prince of Wales and ever since there remains an English pretender using that title. Quite frankly, I have more claims to that title then Prince Charles.
Footnotes:
1. Owen M(organ) Edwards (shown right)
Hanes Cymru (History of Wales)
Company Publishers Cywreig
Wales
1901
Referenced by Charles Hoffman Thomas in a letter dated August 5, 1905 to my Great Uncle Benjamin Franklin Meredith II.
2. Paul M. Remfry
The Final Campaign of Prince Llywelyn
Castles of Wales Website
1998
Also genealogy research by this author and Ronald W. Tipton.
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