Gorsedh Kernow 2025

Gorsedh Kernow 2025: A Day to Remember

© Dr Sharron P. Schwartz

On Saturday 6th September 2025, I had the honour of being admitted into the College of Cornish Bards at Marazion, for my research and sharing knowledge of the Cornish mining Diaspora in Latin America. It was, without doubt, the proudest day of my life.

The months of waiting were over! Finally, at the beginning of August, the list of new Bards was published by Gorsedh Kernow and I could tell everyone! I had been sworn to secrecy back in February when I accepted the invitation to become a Bard. Only my partner, Martin, my mother and my closest friends knew. All remained tight-lipped, a feat in itself in Lanner!!! The only thing yet to be revealed was my Bardic name, in our native language, Kernewek, which I had carefully chosen and which would be announced for the first time at the Gorsedh Ceremony to be held at Marazion…

Saturday dawned clear with a brisk south easterly wind. A dry Gorsedh had been called, a gift day after the poor weather we had been having. Few locations can match Marazion in terms of majesty, and the Bardic Circle set against the backdrop of the imposing St Michael’s Mount promised to be a truly iconic one.

Five of us set off from Lanner (Martin, my mother and my dearest friends, Nigel and Geoffrey) and arrived late-morning at Marazion which was already buzzing with activity. I headed to the Town Hall to dress in my Bardic robes for the first time, and to meet the 21 other initiates, some of whom I already knew. It was great to see Cornish history, identity and heritage in the Americas so well represented in the form of John Webb from Canada and David Downing from the USA, and me for Latin America.

I had spent over an hour trying to iron the creases out of my new robes the day before and I hoped no one would notice that I had not been wholly successful!!! I pinned the beautiful broach engraved with Celtic horses onto my robe, so apt as my mother’s maternal and paternal family, the Brays and the Polkinghornes, were from Carn Marth (hill of the horse). My hands were shaking with nerves as I tried to avoid spearing myself with the pin. Creases were one thing, but drops of blood on my robes were a no-no!! Fortunately, Val Thomas of Heamoor was on hand to help! Behind the broach I attached the lovely posy of Carn Brea heather tied with a pretty Cornish national tartan ribbon, hand-picked and made by my dear friend Trevesiges (Bard, Vanessa Moyle) of Redruth. She had gifted me the posy and the broach for Chons da on becoming a Bard.

The ceremonial instructions given during the robing went right over my head. Everything seemed to occur in a daze! I was to process next to the Rev. Danny Reed. What an honour to accompany a man who had served Lanner, my former home, for over a decade as a much-loved and respected Methodist minister. After having official photographs taken, including with Gwythvosen, the Grand Bard Jennifer Lowe, we were ready to set off.

Clutching my Gorsedh programme and with my bardic headdress draped over my right arm as instructed, I was relieved to leave the sweltering room in the Town Hall. We walked down towards the Maypole Gardens, swept along in the tide of people streaming towards the Folly Field, many clad in Cornish tartan, while tourists lined the pavements taking photos of the unfolding spectacle.

We halted above the Maypole Gardens. Below us, scores of bards in their billowing blue robes were assembling. The backdrop was picture postcard-perfect. The sun glistened on the aqua-hued water of Mount’s Bay, agitated by a brisk easterly wind. The tide was lapping in over the golden sands, but the faint outline of the cobbled causeway curving towards the iconic St Michael’s Mount crowned by its imposing medieval castle, was still visible. The sea of cerulean-blue bardic robes fluttering in the foreground mirrored the speedwell-blue sky streaked with angel-hair cloud. It was a sight that will remain forever seared into my memory.

I was delighted to see my dear friends Ainsley Cocks, Karen Willows and Steve Colwill, who had turned up to watch the ceremony. Several Bards, some whom I had not seen for years, came up to wish me keslowena. By the time we set off towards Folly Field, to the strains of bagpipe music, I was already quite emotional. 

On arrival at the fringe of the Bardic circle, the banner bearers of the various Old Cornwall Societies assembled in a guard of honour.  Behind my sunglasses the tears welled. What a wonderful moment.

We stood as the Bards of the Gorsedh filed past two by two into the circle, many offering cheerful words of welcome to us all; others recognising a friend, colleague or family member with Keslowena! My name was called several times. Many moving moments. 

It was hard to hear and impossible to see the Grand Bard’s speech, but the horner and the cry of Klew pierced the afternoon air. The Gorsedh prayer was followed by the cry of peace, again incredibly audible, and the Gorsedh was opened. The joining of the sword, the Flower Dance and the Offering of the Fruits by the Lady of Cornwall followed, and the song, He Shall Come Again.

The Deputy Grand Bard, Myrgh an Tyr (Dr Loveday Jenkin) then read out the names of Bards who had passed away since the last Gorsedh. Following the hymn, a pulse of excitement rippled down the ranks of the initiates as the time of our entrance into the Bardic circle was nigh, but not before we swore allegiance to Cornwall, our Celtic nation. Our group bellowed Ni a’n te! (We swear it!).

We were then led into the circle and assembled before the Grand Bard, and one by one, we were called forth to be initiated into Gorsedh Kernow. My eye caught my mother, beaming ear to ear, next to my old friends, Nigel and Geoffrey who are like family to me. There is no greater honour than to be recognised by your own people, and I wished my late father and my grandfather Polkinghorne could have been there to share the moment my name was called and I was ushered before Gwythvosen.

How I managed not to cry is a miracle, as Gwythvosen uttered the words, Yn lowen ni a’th tegemmer Spyrys an Tan yn-mysk Berth Gorsedh Kernow. As I turned to take my certificate from Myrgh an Tyr, it struck me how privileged I was to be in the presence of two incredibly strong, talented Cornishwomen who have dedicated their all for Cornwall for decades. What incredible role models.

It only remained for me to have my Bardic headdress placed onto my head and I was a fully fledged Bard; the first in my family. Kernow bys Vyken! 

I sang the song, Hail to the Homeland, as best I could in our ancient language and finally allowed the majesty of the event to overwhelm me when Gwythvosen summoned all bards to the Men Omborth. As we sang Bro Goth Agan Tasow, I cried freely at the chorus,

Kernow! Kernow! Y keryn Kernow;
An mor hedra vo yn  fos dhis a-dro
‘Th on “Onan hag Oll” rag Kernow.

At the end of the ceremony, there was just time to rush over to my family and friends for a photo before I headed back to disrobe. How proud I felt to stand with three people who have guided me for decades, unashamedly teaching me to be loudly and proudly Cornish!

Gorsedh Kernow exists to maintain and promote the national Celtic spirit of Cornwall. I have been accepted due to my research and sharing knowledge of the Cornish mining Diaspora of Latin America. This is the first time the Cornish Diaspora in Latin American has been recognised. 

My humble thanks to the Bard who nominated me. Please know, it means the absolute world to me to be thus honoured and I will do my utmost best to help to support and promote the work of Gorsedh Kernow. My Bardic name is Spyrys an Tan (Fire Spirit). Those of you who know me best, will know why I have chosen this name.

I hereby pledge to continue my research, production of books, films and papers, fundraising activities and outreach work on behalf of the Cornish, both past and present, in Latin America. 

Meur ras bras to Martin and Ainsley for the wonderful photos of the most memorable day of my life.

Gorsedh Kernow 2025:
A Day to Remember