Celtic Lore & Legend (11 page)

“
On a day on Slaibh na leirge,

As I went into a cave,

I saw a smooth, fair, mother-eyed wife,

Thrusting the stake for the flesh,

At a young unreasoning child. ‘Then,’ said I,

‘What causes thy grief, oh wife,

At that unreasoning child?’

‘Though he’s tender and comely’ said she,

‘Set this baby at the fire’

Then I caught hold on the boy.

And wrapped my maundal’ (plaid) a round;

Then I brought up the great big corpse,

That was up in front of the heap,

Then I heard Turstar, Turstar and Turnaich,

The very earth mingling together,

But when it was his to be fallen,

Into the soundest of sleep,

There fell by myself the forest fiend,

I drew back the stake of the roast,

And thrust it into his maw
”.

There was the Queen and she was listening to each thing that Connal suffered and said, and when she heard this, she sprang and cut each binding that was on Connal and on his comrade: and she said “I am the woman that was there”, and to the king, “thou are that son that was yonder”.

Connal married the king’s daughter, and together they rode the whitefaced horse home, and there I left them.

[
Editor’s Note
: In his notes on the tale Campbell mentions other fragmentary variants of it, collected in other parts of the Western Highlands. For example, he draws attention to similar stories in a collection gathered together by a Mr. Thomas Cameron, a schoolmaster, at the request of Mr. Osgood H. McKenzie Esq. in July 1859. These were collected in a form of Gaelic prevalent around Gearrloch, also in Ross-shire, and contains elements of the tale, which it attributes to various local legendary heroes. He further mentions a collection taken from old men around Inverasdale by Alexander MacDonnell that attributes the deeds of Connal to another localized hero, Uisdean Mor MacIlle Phadraig—a gentleman famous for killing “Fuathan” (bogles, or the half-dead). The basic similarities of many of the versions serve to show the undoubted antiquity of the tale itself.]

The passing of the great Gaelic lordships and the increasing modernization of the Celtic world did not mean that the storytelling tradition died out. Indeed, it had become far too imbedded in the Celtic psyche to do so. It now largely became the preserve of those who had always owned it: the common people.

Across the centuries, folktales and legends had formed a central and important part of Celtic society. As the great Mythological Tales of old, they recorded events and characters within the communities, but they also served as an explanation for occurrences within a locality. Thus the tales of heroes and kings, of gods and monsters were added tales of ghosts and fairies. These stories were not mere
recitations
of monarchs and warriors (as under the Bards) but now reflected the perspectives and beliefs of the Celtic people and their descendants. At night, the noises that emerged out of the dark were the sounds of
sheehogues
, or supernatural creatures that traversed the gloom. Milk that
had somehow soured overnight was the result of the intervention of the
marbh bheo
(the nightwalking dead) or the fairies, whose touch could accomplish this. The fact that cows did not give milk or hens did not lay was put down to the evil of witches in the community. Odd shapes, glimpsed at twilight in the middle of some ancient earthworks were unquestionably the
Sidhe
(the ancient and secretive people of the mounds). That these may have been ordinary objects distorted by the poor light that the milk curdled for natural reasons that the sounds from the darkness were no more than night creatures going about their nocturnal business did not suffice to explain them away, and so a body of lore and belief began to build up. Certain places in the area were
sheehoguey
(frequented by supernatural entities); certain precautions had to be taken to avoid unearthly visitations; certain actions had to be carried out in order to placate Otherworldly beings—all these became a part and parcel of later Celtic life. And these beliefs and perceptions were carried across the generations in the tales that were told.

As were the mythological warrior tales before, such stories were mainly oral in their transmission. They were told around the firesides in country cottages and in places where people gathered. And they had a community element as well, for they bound neighbors together in a common consciousness and identity. As with the great Bardic gatherings centuries before, people came together to hear these stories and take them away as part both of themselves and of their culture. The Bards themselves were replaced by traditional local storytellers (in Ireland, these people were known as
seanachie
, or men—and women—of lore) who could spin a fine yarn concerning histories, events, and places in the local community. Such people were accorded the status that had once been given to the Bards. The tales that they told not only served as entertainment and explanation, they actually shaped and honed who their listeners were and
how those people saw themselves. Not only this, but the stories gave shape and meaning to the countryside around them and their relationship to it. The haunted fort at the foot of the field might be haunted or the abode of fairies, but it was haunted for a
purpose
. There might have once been a mighty battle fought within its earthen walls, or there might have been an awful murder committed there. The resonances of these events and actions percolated down across the centuries and immersed themselves in rural folklore.

As with the warrior tales before them, the tales that were often told around the fireside were oral ones, simply conveyed by word of mouth between relatives or from one neighbor to another. Sadly, unlike the mythological tales, in the majority of cases, no attempt was made to record them. Although a number of anthologies of Celtic folktales have been recorded, many of them vanished into oblivion as the years passed.

This loss has accelerated as the modern era has taken hold. New and “scientific” and “reasoned” explanations have been found for events and phenomena in the Celtic countryside, and our notions of what constitutes “culture” have changed. Much of our cultural entertainment nowadays comes from a box in the corner of our living rooms, much of it is imported, and this has almost dissolved the indigenous ancient cultures of the Celtic past. And yet, there is still a hankering for the perspectives of yesterday; we all still love a good story, well told. Perhaps not all of our Celtic heritage has completely vanished.

Throughout the rural Celtic world, charms, spells, and protections were important; so important that many of them survived until comparatively recent times—until at least the early 20th century in some cases. In an uncertain world, and perhaps in the absence of formal medical and social services, it was vital that people had some form of protection against whatever life threw at them. Charms and talismans were often the stock-in-trade of local “wise women” or “fairy doctors” who could trace their ancestry back to Celtic shamans, more than a thousand years before. Such people were often integral members of their communities, serving as midwives, soothsayers, healers, and cursers, and were usually treated with awe and respect by those around them. In some cases, such as that of the wise woman Tamsin Blight (Tammy Blee) in Cornwall, such persons were even according the distinction of being able to drive out demons and spirits (a privilege normally reserved for the clergy) that were believed to bring sickness and danger to those whom they attacked. Most charms, however, were designed to alleviate
or protect against common ailments—colds, toothache, a heavy flow of blood—and were largely concerned with people’s health and welfare.

Although many of the charms and spells undoubtedly had pagan origins, a distinctly Christian note soon began to creep in. As with pagan wells and shrines, the Christian Church in the Celtic West wasn’t slow to take them over. Throughout the years, significant elements of the Christian faith were to be found alongside pagan beliefs in most charms.

The following is a selection of charms and protections dealing with common ailments that were collected by celebrated Cornish folklorist William Bottrell (1816–1881) in the rural West of Cornwall, beyond the town of Hayle, where old pagan Celtic beliefs had once been prevalent but where Christianity had made great inroads. They were widely in use in Western Cornwall around mid-19th century and show a melding of ancient and Christian traditions in the Celtic mind. The selection comes from Bottrell’s own
Traditions of West Cornwall
(published in 1873).

by William Bottrell

The person to be charmed gathers nine bramble leaves which are put into a vessel of spring water; then each leaf is passed over and from the diseased part whilst repeating three times to each leaf as follows:

A noble is given a grim warning.

“
Three ladies come from the east,

One with fire and two with frost;

Out with thee fire and in with thee frost,

In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost
”.

A stick of fire is then taken from the hearth and passed over and around the diseased part whilst the above is repeated nine times.

[
Editor’s Note
: The charm/spell is probably a Christian variant of a much older Celtic ritual, drawing on the natural elements of fire—which was a potent healing symbol throughout the Celtic world—and of frost, a coolant. The reference to “the three ladies” may be a variation of ancient goddesses, making use of the significant number three: the nine brambles suggest a multiplication of three times three, adding to the potency of the magical number.]

“
Christ was crowned with thorns,

The thorns did bleed but did not rot

No more shall thy finger (or whatever part it may be),

In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost
”.

[
Editor’s Note
: Although this is obviously a Christian charm, its roots are probably pagan Celtic. Older variations speak of pagan or classical gods—Osiris, for example—who have expelled foreign elements from their bodies. The name of Christ and the biblical reference to the crown of thorns have been substituted. The recitation of the charm was accompanied by the touch to the infected area of the wonder-worker or charmer—something that probably had its origins in the Celtic shaman tradition.]

“
Christ was born in Bethlehem,

Baptised in the River Jordan.

There he digg’d a well

And turned the water against the hill,

So shall they blood stand still

In the name of Father, son and Holy Ghost
”.

[
Editor’s Note
: This is another almost completely Christian charm that most probably has pagan Celtic origins. Although the charm contains references to Christ, there is also an oblique hint at magical wells and the notion of water running uphill, which was a magical notion in Celtic lore. Water collected from such sources was deemed to have curative properties, as at St. Patrick’s Tub at Belcoo, County Fermanagh in the North of Ireland, where an optical illusion makes a feeder stream appear to run uphill. Water from this course is considered to be especially remedial.]

“
Christ pass’d by his brother’s door,

Saw his brother lying on the floor.

‘What aileth thee brother?

Pain in thy teeth?

Thy teeth shall pain thee no more’