St David's: Faith, Wealth and Legend

St David's Cathedral

In the twelfth century Pope Calixtus II declared the shrine of St David, in West Wales, to be so important that two pilgrimages to venerate it were worth one to Rome, and three worth one to Jerusalem. Thus he cemented the popularity of St David's Cathedral – and its wealth too, for before long the bishop had his palatial palace next door.

That popularity continues to this day, though most of the crowds I witnessed in St David's last Sunday seemed more taken up with finding a parking place, shopping for souvenirs and getting something to eat. It was a Bank Holiday weekend and, predictably, the city (for St David's is indeed Britain's smallest city) was chock-a-block with cars and people.

Our host for this week's holiday, sensing that we preferred the quiet life, suggested parking at Caefai, half a mile from the madding crowds. Getting there on the narrow lane was a challenge as I dodged on-coming camper vans and drivers who hadn't mastered the art of reversing, but when we arrived the car park was almost empty. What a contrast!

Not far from the car park one begins to sense the simplicity with which the story of St David began in the sixth century. True, David was born a prince but there's a legend that his mum, Non, gave birth to him on a cliff top during a violent storm and, as a mark of the child's importance, a well sprung up on the spot. I'll let you decide on the truth of that one, but the well is still there for all to see, as are the ruins of a chapel, built to mark the sacred spot.

St Non's Well

St Non presides dutifully over the site of her well

Ruins of St Non's Chapel

Nearby, a modern chapel has been built, dedicated to St Non. It's rather a lovely place and includes some interesting fragments of a much earlier church.

David himself went on to found a monastic community. His monks had a tough life, being required to plough the land without the use of animals, drink only water and eat only bread with salt and herbs. Evenings were spent in prayer, reading and writing. No personal possessions were allowed: even to say "my book" was considered an offence – presumably based on his interpretation of this biblical text:

Now the multitude of those who believed were of one heart and one soul;

neither did anyone say that any of the things he possessed was his own,

but they had all things in common. (Acts 4.32)

Life must have been a barrel of laughs. In fairness, though, monastic life surely had its attractions, with God on your side, the assurance of food every day, a roof over your head and a measure of security.  Being associated with a miracle worker must also have added colour to the humdrum of daily life. David's best known miracle occurred in the village of Llanddewi Brefi, when the ground obligingly rose up, so that he could see over the crowd.

Quite what St David would have made of the things done in his name in later centuries, though, one can but imagine — bishops in palaces and a church amassing fabulous wealth to itself. All I can say is that the ruined palace is a great place to explore, and all the more so since I simply had to wave my Cadw card at the gate and be admitted free of charge.

I paid the suggested £3 to explore the cathedral, which was very much like any other cathedral in the land, but was unwilling to fork out another £2 for permission to photograph there. So here's someone else's photo of St David's recently restored shrine. It's devoid of the saint's bones, thanks to the reformation and all that, but remains an important focal point for Welsh heritage and national identity. And for that, I think the good saint would be justifiably proud.