Lesson Eight ~ The Four Major Gaelic Festivals
Historians often discuss both the antiquity of the Gaelic festivals and whether the early Brythonic Celts (Welsh, Cornish & Bretons) would have held exactly the same festivals as their Goidelic cousins. At the moment, the jury still seems to be out as to the likelihood of that. For the purpose of brevity, we will focus this lesson on the evidence we have for how the Goidelic tribes of Ireland, Scotland and the Isle of Man celebrated the turning festivals of the year. Some additional material will be included from Brythonic sources, but a more detailed look at those sources will take place in a future lesson.
There is good evidence to suggest that the medieval Gaels marked four major festivals each year, which were common to most (perhaps all) tribes. It is commonly believed that these four festivals pre-date Christianity, but textual sources to confirm this are scant. Individual tribes may also have had their own local festivals that were not adhered to in other parts of the land.
Let us start with the early winter festival of Samhain. Manuscripts describe this as a seven-day festival in late October/early November. There is much talk about feasting, game playing and the like. There are no clear descriptions of what rituals took place at this time. However, we can look at myths to see what sort of stories are set at this time of year. We must again bear in mind that most of these myths were being committed to writing in the 9th to 12th centuries, and it may be argued that the medieval notion as to what a festival was about is not necessarily an accurate reflection of how people 500 years beforehand saw those same celebrations.
The Tuatha de Danann arrived on Beltane (like the people of Cesair and Partholon before them), and fought their first great battle against the Fir Bolg soon after. The major, defining battle though was the Second Conflict on the Plain of Pillars. Waged against the loathsome Fomori, this war is described as occurring on Samhain. One of the reasons being that Samhain was the time chosen by the Fomori for demanding their onerous taxes of the subjugated Tuatha. In an image reminiscent of the Poll Tax riots, the people of Danu rose up and overthrew the tyrants. When Lugh slew the terrible Balor, the tide of battle was finally turned in favour of the incoming deities.
From this we might surmise that Samhain was a popular time for the making of offerings, both to deities and perhaps to more temporal powers. Yet the destruction of the gruesome children of Domnu suggests a theme of liberation, of throwing off unfair or oppressive forces. Whilst November may well be the start of winter, with all its imagery of greyness and gloom, this tale gives us a metaphor of dynamism and freedom.
A somewhat similar tale can be found in the story of the destruction of Tara. A bard of the Sidhe called Aillen mac Midgna stalks out of the hill of Finnachaid and casts a sleep-spell over the inhabitants of Tara using a musical instrument. Each Samhain night for 23 years (or in some versions 9 years) his fiery breath burned the hall to the ground, and it had to be rebuilt over the winter. This continued until the time when the young hero Fionn Mac Cumhail, arriving for the Feast of Tara, stuck a spear through him. As with the previous tale, a dangerous and oppressive force is overthrown ~ a curious image that many might find at odds with the usual perception of a coming winter, especially in former times bereft of central heating and thermal underwear! It might be conjectured that, despite the physical harshness of winter, that season was not perceived in a negative manner at all, but seen as a time of release.
At a practical level Samhain was the time when the Fianna, the warrior bands such the one lead by Fionn, stopped fighting and quartered with the families they had spent all summer protecting. The battles in Samhain myths might just reflect the desire of hardened fighters to have one last good punch-up before sheathing their swords for the winter holidays. It may also reflect the notion of winter as a time of peace, when theoretically the Fianna would not be needed. By contrast many of the Beltane myths, when the warriors hosteling ceased, are tales of conquest and glory-seeking.
In other stories of Fionn the mounds of the Sidhe, which archaeologists have long since shown to be burial chambers from the Bronze Age and earlier, were revealed to human eyes. Normally the magical nature of these hillocks is concealed by the presence of a veil, the fe-fiada. On the winter feast all becomes shown for its true nature. The leader of the warrior bands of Laigin gets to see not just inside the mounds, but also witnesses their inhabitants riding forth. One might ask if the native tribes of 2000-odd years ago were aware that the mounds contained corpses. If they were, then the beings riding forth were probably seen as ghosts of some sort. If they were unaware of the original purpose of the mounds, then they might well have conceived of this as a festival of land-spirits, rather than of the returning dead (though, of course, those two concepts are not mutually exclusive.) Successive waves of colonisers to Irish and British shores have re-used older burial chambers to inter their own dead, so it seems quite likely that Celtic tribes would have been fully aware that there were decaying bones inside the sidhe-mounds.
The story of Nera has a decidedly spectral touch to it. On Samhain, King Ailill offered rewards to anyone brave enough to put a wicker band around the foot of a hanging corpse. Only Nera was courageous/daft enough to volunteer. Approaching the corpse, it animated and asked for water. Bizarrely, Nera allowed it to climb on to his back and carried it to a house, around which flames sprang up. They tried another house, which was then surrounded by water. The third attempt proved safer, and the corpse drank three cups worth, spitting the last out on the householders, killing them. Going back to court, Nera found the palace on fire and the inhabitants decapitated. Nera rushed to the Cave of Cruachan, located in County Roscommon, in search of the severed heads. He met a ban-sidhe, who revealed that it was just a vision of what might be (sort of like the Ghost of Samhain Yet to Come.) To prevent this happening he was advised to demolish the hill. To do this he called on Fergus mac Roigh, but escaped with the Sidhe woman. Samhain night, then, could be a time of visions and warnings, a time to meet the dead ~ but be aware that the dead are not always pleasant!
The Cave of Cruachan also has its own story of another monster called Aillen. This one had three-heads, and caused no end of mayhem until dispatched at Samhain by Amairgin. The burial ground of Dathi, considered by many to be the last Pagan king of Ireland, lies not far away, and it is possible that the monstrous nature of Cruachan may have built up in the minds of Christian storytellers because of that. The fortress at Cruachan was the seat of power of such luminaries as Queen Medb, and something of a focal point for the province of Connacht (modern Connaught).
Another Connacht hero, Cascorach, encountered bizarre Samhain spirits at Cruachan. An old servant called Bairnech bewailed the fact that a woman of the Sidhe left the cave each November eve and whisked away nine of the best animals in every herd. The Fomori demanded tribute of a third of the Tuatha’s grain, milk and first born children, whilst Fionn pledged a third of his trophies to his aide Fiachra at Samhain ~ suggestive that three (and in this case thrice three) may have been a relevant unit for the making of offerings, willing or otherwise. One of the kennings for the ogham letter Tinne is a third part, perhaps a link between that few and sacrifice. Cascorach dispatched the ban-sidhe without resistance, once again with a spear. No sooner was this problem dealt with, than the old man complained of three female werewolves who also appeared out of the cave and mangled the local sheep population. Cascorach tricked the lycanthropes into resuming their human guise in order to listen to his harp music (the equally feral Mis was also lured by the harp music of the bard Dubh Ruis), whereupon his friend Caoilte skewered them with a spear. A good deal of spearing goes on in these tales, which may itself have some symbolic importance.
King Aillil might have been nicer to the land spirits when choosing a pasture for his horses. The Sidhe, whose land it was, felt affronted by his action (perhaps he didn’t ask them nicely first) and so, at Samhain, blasted the grass which the horses fed on. To add insult to injury, the king then raped one of the Sidhe women, Aine, who had cursed the field. She responded by cutting his ear off, whereupon he killed her. The Sidhe, eager for vengeance, created a magical yew tree. The desire to possess this tree was such that a great battle was fought between vying factions from local tribes. Amongst those slaughtered were Aillil and most of his family. Let this be a lesson ~ play nicely with the land spirits, or else!
On a stranger level the burly deity Dagda is described as having sex with the Morrighan, by mounting her when she had one ankle on either bank of the River Unius! This has lead some commentators to suggest that fertility rites took place at Samhain (wether in or out of a river, no-one seems willing to say.) This may be the case, though the ribald nature of so many myths convey the sense that those old tribes didn’t need much of an excuse for a bit of fertility at any time of the year.
On a more romantic note, Samhain was the time when Oengus Mac Og finally met his dream-lover Caer in the flesh. Though it might be more apposite to say in the feather, given that she has been transformed into a swan by the time he found her. Close to dying from a wasting illness himself, Oengus opted to transform himself into a swan that he might be with his lady love. Each Samhain she turns from swan to maiden or back again, and he changes himself in accordance. A cynic might note that the fact that a man willingly changes himself to please a woman proves that this is a myth! Nonetheless, it gives a powerful image of self-sacrifice ~ Oengus prepared to give up everything for love. This echoes, in a more pleasant fashion, the Tuatha having to pay their price to the demanding Fomori overlords. To everything there is a cost, and at Samhain it must be paid ~ or refuted through bloodshed.
Another tale which links Oengus to events at Samhain is that of the maiden Enghi, who had fallen in love with the handsome god, though she had never seen him (rather as he fell for Caer, whom he knew only from a dream.) Enghi tried to find the object of her desire at a Samhain gathering, only to be kidnapped by the Sidhe. The tales so often imply that the Sidhe really do not like to leave empty-handed on Samhain.
Many (though by no means all) sources argue that Samhain derives its name from the same root as the Gaulish month of Samonios, as described on the Coligny Calendar. Those theorists who dissent from this stance claim that Samonios signifies not the end of summer, but its beginning, and is not in November, but May ~ therefore the three-day feast marked on the Coligny tablets refers to Beltane. This, it is argued, is the true New Year’s Day. It is certainly not explicitly stated anywhere in early myths that Samhain is definitely the start of the year, and the story of the Tuatha arriving in Ireland on Beltane would be an appropriate image for an inaugural feast. However, the subsequent month on the Coligny calendar is called Dumannios, probably deriving from a root word meaning black or dark ~ suitable for December, less so for June. So, whilst not absolutely definite, it seems quite likely that the three-day Gaulish feast of Samonios was going on at the same time as the Gaelic feast of Samhain. If it opened the year in Gaul, it may well have done so in other Celtic regions too.
We know that a number of the neolithic stone circles and monuments were aligned with the winter and summer solstices. Clearly these dates had a big enough importance to warrant major building projects. However, we don’t know for sure if these dates retained importance into the Iron Age. There don’t appear to be many surviving myths set at either solstice, and most of the folk practices seem to be of Christian or Norse origin.
In Scotland midwinter is called An Fheill-Shlinnein, which derives from the word for a type of divination involving looking at the cracks formed in a burnt ox bone. Presumably this act of divination comes from Pagan sources, though whether Celtic or Norse is unclear. Another intriguing aspect of Scottish lore is the habit of carving a log into the shape of an old woman, the cailleach-nollag, and then burning it. This may well be connected to a festival held to the wintery goddess Cailleach on or near the solstice.
On the Isle of Man, up until fairly recent times, the summer solstice was marked by carrying bundles of straw to the top of certain hills as a gift to Manannan Mac Lir, god of the sea. He would sometimes favour his devotees by appearing in the guise of a crane. The goddess sometimes described as his wife, Aine, was also honoured at the solstice in some parts of Ireland by the carrying of burning bundles of straw up mountainsides. One late dated myth described Aine, by then thought of as a fairy queen, feeding the starving during the Great Hunger.
Whatever the exact origins of these slivers of folklore, we cannot be certain of the solstices significance to Iron Age Celts (but that doesn’t stop modern Druids holding whatever sort of ritual they like at these times). There do not appear to be any accounts of myths or gatherings taking place at either of the two equinoxes. Perhaps these simply weren’t important by the Iron Age?
A few days prior to the winter solstice, on 18th December, the Romans held a festival called the Eponalia. This was dedicated to Celtic horse goddess Epona, much admired by the Roman cavalry. It is possible that their choice of this date was based on some older festival held on that day by one or more Celtic tribes.
The festival of Imbolc or Oimelc (probably deriving from the word for sheep’s milk) takes place at the start of February. On the ancient Roman calendar February was a month for spring cleaning and purification rituals. Many statues were taken out of the temples and cleaned. The Christian church kept up this practice, and made the festival of Saint Brigit on February 2nd one of light and cleanliness. Whilst there almost certainly was a real woman called Abbess Brigit who lived in Kildare, many of the stories associated with her have their roots in myths about the Pagan goddess of the same name. Christian tradition has it that the monastery founded by the Abbess was co-habiting (back then Irish nuns and monks could marry and have children), but that an area of the grounds contained a perpetually burning fire which only women could tend or go near. Legends often refer to a sisterhood of 19 nuns tending the flame. Obviously there is absolutely no basis for any of this within the Christian religion, so we can but assume that these practices went back to pagan times and were simply absorbed into the Church. In Bricriu’s number ogham, the number 19 is linked to the letter Eadha, usually given as the aspen or poplar tree. 19 years is also the period of the Meton Cycle, which has astronomical significance for Druids, and may have been the basis for Caesar’s claim that Druids took two decades to train.
Early February is not a pleasant time for travel (being cold and wet), and there are no surviving records of big feasts or fairs at Imbolc. Most likely it was a fairly quiet, homely festival.
One of the few myths set at this time is an episode in the Tain bo Cuailgne in which the great warrior Cuchulainn is single-handedly holding off the armies of Queen Medb. He goes for months without rest, fighting day and night. Close to dying of exhaustion, his father Lugh appears at Imbolc and puts him into a magical, healing sleep. Lugh himself then keeps the armies at bay. Perhaps Imbolc may have been seen as a time for renewal of body and soul.
In agricultural terms, early February is lambing season ~ a vital period for ancient communities who had been surviving on preserved meat and grain. Many people must have breathed a sigh of relief to have fresh milk and meat again.
There are very late recorded Scottish myths set at this time in which an elderly goddess, the Cailleach, either drinks from a magical well and becomes young, or in which she battles against (and loses her fight with) the goddess Brigit. Some historians have questioned how old these particular legends are, but they remain widespread and have earned the approval of both deities when told in ritual. There are a variety of caves around Scotland and the province of Munster which are said to be inhabited by the Cailleach when she hibernates over the warmer months. The presence of a holly staff outside the cave indicates she is at rest.
Beltane (or Cetshamain, as it is sometimes called) opens the summer, and with it the battle season. Those warriors who have been wintering with families now return to their nomadic life in forests and fields. Wars start up again. Appropriately enough the Partholonians, Tuatha de Danann and the Milesians all arrived in Ireland to conquer the land at Beltane.
Linguists argue backwards and forwards as to the origin of the word Beltane ~ whether it refers generally to “good fires” or is a more direct reference to the deity Belinus, whom some interpret as a sun god and others as a healing deity (and some as both!) This was certainly a popular time for bonfires, often with cattle being driven between two fires in order to purge parasites and confer good yields.
Traditionally a Beltane fire was kindled on the Hill of Uisnech, the first one having been lit by a druid of the Nemedians. Seven other Druids objected to what he was doing, so he cut their tongues out and buried them in the hill. Hopefully this is meant to be taken as a metaphor ~ perhaps that the Druid Mide had won over the opinions of the others (so their tongues wagged for him rather than against him)? In a culture where magic was seen as heavily oral in nature, it may also be that he gained their magical powers for himself. That there were seven tongues may be just a random number, or have a significance to either history (seven tribes united in a common cause) or mysticism (the number seven links to the ogam letter Duir – the oak tree, much associated with kingship and gaining prestige or power.)
King Aillil and his mistress engaged is some suitably licentious behaviour at Beltane. Sadly for them, the warrior Conall leapt out and killed them both.
Perhaps more profoundly, the young Fionn Mac Cumhail was set to tend the cooking of the magical salmon at Beltane for the old Druid Finegas. Juices from the fish spurted out and landed on his fingers, which he unthinkingly sucked to cool them off. He was then allowed to eat and imbibe all the magical powers of the fish. The story is remarkably similar to the Welsh tale of Taliesin, though that story is not set at any particular time of the year (at least, not in the versions that survived in manuscript form.) Having also gained the power of prophecy by accidentally drinking water from a magical well, Fionn composed a long poem singing the praises of the month of May and all the changes that come upon nature during that time.
The poem begins ~
May-day, season surpassing!
Splendid is colour then.
Blackbirds sing a full lay,
if there be a slender shaft of day.
The dust-coloured cuckoo calls aloud:
Welcome, splendid summer!
The bitterness of bad weather is past,
the boughs of the wood are a thicket.
Beltane, then, was probably seen as a joyful time but also a time of risk and high adventure. Unexpected gifts and serendipitous events might occur at this time.
In Wales this festival is called Calen Mai, and is associated with several myths. The horse goddess Rhiannon had her newborn child stolen by a mysterious beast who also tried to kidnap a mare’s foal on this date. She was falsely accused of having eaten her own child, but eventually exonerated. The huntsman god Gwyn app Nudd does annual battle with Gwythur, in order to win the favours of the goddess Creiddylad. On the Isle of Man there is also a mythical battle, but between two women ~ the Queen of Summer and the Queen of Winter (naturally, the first one is the winner). The latter myths can be seen largely as fairly overt metaphors for seasonal shifts. The loss of the child, and the subsequent unjust punishment placed upon Rhiannon, bear deeper contemplation.
Lughnasadh takes place in early August, and according to myth was started by the god Lugh as a means of honouring his Fir Bolg foster-mother Tailtiu. She had died of exhaustion after clearing many forests in Connaught for agriculture. Given the proximity of the harvest, it may be suggested that Tailtiu’s collapse is an image of the earth giving her all through the harvest, and then dying over winter. Another funeral feast associated with this time was that of a little-known goddess called Carmen, for whom a commemorative fair was held every three years. A more prominent goddess, Macha, who died as the result of being goaded into a foot race by her idiotic husband, was also honoured with a fair or oenach at this time. The death of a great woman crops up again and again at Lughnasadh. In the known stories of Tailtiu and Macha, both died doing the honourable thing to benefit others. Modern Druids might wish to pause a while at this feast and think of the countless mothers, wives, sisters etc who have worked themselves into an early grave caring for families, or by professionally caring as nurses, doctors, soldiers, etc.
Whilst most of the other magical races arrived in Ireland at Beltane, Tailtiu’s people landed at the August feast.
Lughnasadh, sometimes also called Bron Troghain, was a popular time for making temporary marriages. These would often last only until Imbolc, and would serve as a means of people supporting and comforting each other over the harsh winter. Of equal popularity were the horse races that took place at the great Lughnasadh fairs. The invention of racing was attributed to Lugh himself, as was the board game fidchell (a bit like chess). This was a widely indulged activity over this festival period.
Some questions for you to think about:
Have you attended a Celtic festival in the past? If so, what did you think of it?
Choose a festival and think about what it means to you, and the ways in which you might try and celebrate it.
Think about whether you prefer to celebrate festivals by yourself or with other people. Do the changing seasons affect your moods ~ perhaps you feel more sociable at some times of the year than others, or more inclined to certain activities than others etc.
Practical exercise:
Create a new seasonal festival to celebrate by yourself or with friends. Consider what is important to you or the place where you live. If you live by the coast, you could create a festival to mark an important event in the fishing world. If you have a favourite animal, you could mark some event in their life cycle (such as the breeding season, the time when their young are born, etc). If you are an avid gardener or brewer, you could mark an event connected to your favourite flower, the grape vines or so forth.
In creating your festival, think about what this seasonal event means to you, where best to hold the event (somewhere directly connected to the event being marked), any associated deities, what sort of things you could do during the ritual to express how important this event is etc.
Keep notes as to what you did and why (and the outcome), so that you can refer back to it in future.