Prior to Roman or Christian influence the Celts preferred to pass on their sacred teachings and myths orally. After the coming of Christianity in the fifth century onwards, the monks recorded the myths. It is thanks to them that so many survive today.Fragments of the rich and complex mythology of the ancient Celts of pre-Roman Europe were preserved in the monasteries of early Christian Ireland and in stories first written down in medieval Wales. The exploits of Cúlchulainn and Fionn mac Cumhaill and of Deirdre and Rhiannon have their roots in the Iron Age and have come down to us from the tales of Celtic bards and storytellers. The myths relate epic stories of heroic ancestors, when the divine and mortal realms were intimately bound up with each other and gods and goddesses inhabited the natural world. The stories are rich with religious symbolism and give an idea of how the Celts perceived the world in which they lived. They also tell of the lives of the people themselves—kings and queens, husbands and wives, warriors and farmers. Along the Atlantic coast of Western Europe aspects of the oral culture of the Celts persisted against the tide of history and into the modern age. The languages and traditions of Ireland, Scotland, Wales, the Isle of Man, Cornwall, and Brittany, together with the surviving myths, provide glimpses back into the Celtic world and are a continuing connection to a culture otherwise known through archaeology and the accounts of classical authors.
Wouldn't Christian monks have qualms about recording pagan tales? Apparently not. St Patrick, who brought Christianity to Ireland in 432, had his doubts about the old stories until he received a vision in which he was told to respect and record them.
Deities
Some of the myths have been Christianized, especially those recorded in Wales. However, a particular feature of Celtic myths may have prevented this from happening more often: namely, the way in which deities have been anthropomorphized (given human form), so that, unlike the Greek myths, they are not obviously religious in nature.
This feature may have made them seem less threatening to the new belief of Christianity.
Pillarstone on the Hill of Tara
View across the Hill of Tara, showing a pillarstone said to be the Lia Fail, or Stone of Destiny, on which Kings of Ireland were crowned. It was said to roar if a rightful king stood on it. Point to see view from other side.
The god Lugh
We can see this anthropomorphization clearly with the god Lugh, who gives his name to the Irish summer festival of Lughnasadh. In the earliest Irish myths he is clearly a deity. As such, he offers himself as the saviour of the Tuatha dé Danann, the predecessors of the Milesians or Gaels. Seeking entry at the palace of King Nuada of the Silver Hand, at Tara, he announces each of his skills in turn – ‘Blacksmith, warrior, musician, poet, scholar …’. Each time he is refused entry, until he points out that no one else combines all these skills in one person, as he does.
In the Mabinogion, the main source of British myths, Lugh has become the much more human Lleu Llaw Gyfes, nephew (and possibly son) of the magician Gwydion. He is skilled, and protected by charms, but he is not obviously a god: in fact at one point he appears to be mortal.
The Dagda, father of the gods
Lugh shares some characteristics with the Dagda, a larger-than-life figure prominent in myths of the Tuatha dé Danann. Like Lugh, he is powerful and omnicompetent. Yet he is often represented as a rather comic figure whose short tunic fails to cover his buttocks, and whose huge club has to be carried on wheels.
The Dagda has great magical powers, and he possesses a harp which comes to him when he calls, and a cauldron of abundance which restores dead warriors to life (but without powers of speech, perhaps in case they say too much about the afterlife).
Goddesses
Powerful though these gods were, the Celtic goddesses were perhaps even more so. They were closely associated with the land, and in this identification they sometimes seem to be aspects of a single all-embracing Goddess. Their link to the seasonal cycles, to fertility and death, may partly account for the fact that a single goddess often takes three forms, or aspects – usually maiden, mother and crone.
Celtic goddesses could be life-giving and sustaining, but were also, in their dark aspect, associated with sex and death, which in Celtic terms are part of the round of life. The most powerful Irish example is the red-haired shape-shifting Morrigan, said to have coupled with the Dagda.
Sources of the myths
The surviving Celtic myths come from Scotland and Ireland, which were at one time closely related, from Wales (though many of these originated orally further east), and from Brittany. No myths survive from Romanized areas, such as Gaul on the Continent. They do not appear to have been written down in Latin.
The greatest body of myth comes from Ireland, which was untouched by the Romans, although much of its mythic material was destroyed by Viking marauders. An Irish myth, ‘The Harp of the Dagda’ is given below.
The Harp of the Dagda
This story concerns the most ancient Irish Celtic gods, the first generation of the Tuatha dé Danaan who had to fight off the giant races of the Firbolgs and the Formorians. Their history is found in the Lebor Gabála, ‘The Book of Invasions’.
When the fairy race of the Tuatha dé Danann arrived in Ireland, they came like a mist across the waters, bringing with them magical gifts. These were the lia fail – the coronation stone, the spear of Lugh, the sword of Nuada, and the great cauldron of the Dagda, which was said to be able to restore life.
The Dagda himself was known as the Good God and he was chief of the gods at this time. Besides his cauldron, he had a harp which was battle-scarred and made of oak. It was covered in rich decorations including a double-headed fish which ran up and down the curved pillar and had jewels for its eyes. Although he had a harper, Uaithne, he could also play it himself.
The Dagda had this harp with him always – he even took it into battle. So it was, that after the second Battle of Mag Tuiread, or Moytura, the Dagda discovered that his harp, together with his harper, had been captured by the Formorians and taken with them in their flight. Angered beyond measure, he set out with his son Aengus Og to reclaim it.
Stealthily they approached the Formorian camp. Soon they could hear the sounds of the feasting hall in which Bres, the Formorian king, was dining. Approaching the doorway, they could just make out through the smoke and candle-flame the outline of the old harp hanging on the wall. Then the Dagda entered boldly and summoned his harp with this chant:
Come Daurdabla, apple-sweet murmurer
Come, Coir-cethair-chuir, four-angled frame of harmony,
Come summer, come winter,
Out of the mouths of harps and bags and pipes!
Immediately the old harp flew to his hand across the hall, killing nine men as it came. A shocked hush fell on the company. In the silence the Dagda laid his hands on the strings and unleashed the Three Noble Strains of Ireland that he had bound into his harp. First he played the goltrai, or strain of weeping, so that all present began to mourn and lament their defeat. Then he played the geantrai, the strain of merriment, so that the company turned to laughter and drunken foolery. Lastly he played the suantrai, or sleep-strain, whereupon the warriors fell into a profound slumber. After this the Dagda and Aengus Og left the camp as quietly as they had come, taking Uaithne and the harp with them.
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