Foltchaoin Masterpost (WIP)
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About Me
Flidais: A Deep Dive
Flidais' Daughters
Celtic Animals
Prayers
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@foltchaoin
Foltchaoin Masterpost (WIP)
My Blog on Blogspot has more in-depth informational posts. But I'll link to my tumblr posts here.
About Me
Flidais: A Deep Dive
Flidais' Daughters
Celtic Animals
Prayers
My ko-fi
Irish Mythology Tarot ~ Page of Swords, Aengus, God of Love
I adored drawing this. Look at him!!!!
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Paul Beguine
The Irish Mythology Tarot ~ Knight of Swords, the Morrígan
Irish goddess of war and fate, shapeshifter and frequent tormentor of Cú Chulainn
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Flidais: A Deep Dive
Flidais: What Do We Know?
Flidais (pronounced flee-ash) is an interesting and elusive Irish Goddess. She is not well-known, and this is not surprising, considering how little original material we have of her. This lack of material makes her harder to discover than, say, a hugely popular pagan figure like The Mórrígan. It also leaves a lot of room for misinformation to not only sneak in (as it so often does with anything within Celtic paganism), but to stick around. So, what DO we know about her? She is mentioned in some original sources and has her own mythological tale; the Táin Bó Flidais, which is part of the Ulster cycle.
Let's start with her name. Flidais may mean "wet one"(8) and her epithet, Foltchaoin, could mean "Lovely-hair"(4), "Fair-hair"(2), "Soft haired"(8), or "Fine or beautiful hair"(9). Essentially, she has high quality hair. The name Flidais, "wet one", likely points to her strong association with milk (8) and milking animals (cows and deer specifically, we'll get there soon).
The Fitness of Names lists her as one of the Tuatha Dé Danann and Nia Ségamain as her son (2). It also states that Nia Ségamain has the ability to milk does the same way as cows, and that it was Flidais who gave him this "fairy power" (2). Interestingly, her connection to Nia Ségamain is the only concrete link there is between Flidais and deer. Nia Ségamain's name strengthens this connection further, his name meaning: "ség" - "deer" and "main" - "his treasure" (2). So, deer were his treasure (2) and since milk was such a high-value item in ancient Ireland, this treasure was extremely valuable and made him a very wealthy king. This is my own connection being made between the deer milk and his apparent wealth, but I feel Keating (1857) supports me in his interpretation of the surname Ségamain meaning "surpassing in wealth" (11). Nia Ségamain is not her only child, in fact she has at least 7 children, including Ségamain. Her other known children are Arden, Bé Chuille, Dinand, Bé Teite (5), Fand (6), and Flann (12). Fand is the wife of Manannán mac Lir (9). Both Bé Chuille and Dinand are listed as she-farmers (5) and as sorceresses of the Tuatha Dé in the Banshenchus (interestingly, they are listed alongside some of The Mórrínga in the Banshenchus) (3). While there isn't much on Arden, she seems loosely connected to forests. Bé Teite gives her name to both the Assembly of Teite and the Shore of Téite (12). Flidais' husband is listed as Adammair in The Fitness of Names (2), but Ailill Finn is her husband in the Táin Bó Flidais (1). She has her own short entry in the Banshenchus, which reads "Flidais was the consort of Ailill Find. Fergus was the too active lover. Though slender she destroyed young men. She decreed hard close fighting" (3).
The Táin Bó Flidais
There are two surviving versions of The Táin Bó Flidais. One survives in the Leabhair na h-Uidhri (The Book of the Dun Cow) and another in the Book of Leinster (1). The version from the Leabhair na h-Uidhri is by far the oldest surviving manuscript of any of the four preludes to the Táin Bó Cúailnge (1). I'm not going to give a detailed summary of her story here (though here's a retelling done by Candlelit Tales if you're interested). I'm here to glean important characteristics or traits of hers from the story.
In the Táin Bó Flidais, Flidais is married to Ailill Finn but lusts for Fergus mac Róg. Fergus had a well-known sexual appetite, in which it took at least 7 women to satisfy him. However, Flidais was so proficient a lover that she alone could satisfy him. Her and Fergus exchange letters every week, and eventually Fergus comes to see her (along with 30 of his men) where she and Ailill lived, at their fort Dún Flidhais, near Carrowmore lake. Ailill, aware of Flidais' feelings for Fergus, tries to cast Fergus away. Flidais intervenes and convinces Ailill to let Fergus and his men stay for a little while. Flidais and Fergus conspire to kill Ailill, but not before a battle breaks out. During the battle, Flidais took on healing the wounded men. After killing Ailill, Fergus takes Flidais and her cattle away with him and they go to Queen Medb. Here, Flidais' herds provide milk for Queen Medb's army during the Táin Bó Cúailnge every 7th day (1)(4).
There are actually a few notable differences between the two versions of the story. In the later version of the story Flidais has a special magical cow, the Maol (hornless one). The Maol is also called the "Maol Fliodhaise" and can feed at least 300 men per milking (1)(8). In the earlier version of the story, Flidais simply has a herd of cattle that feed Medb's army. Granted, the herd of cattle is still impressive with the amount of milk they supply to the army being exceptional. I noticed in both versions of the Táin Bó Cúailnge I consulted, neither specified where the milk Flidais provided came from. Both versions simply state that she brings the men milk every seventh night (4). Let us also not forget that Flidais' cattle (bhur Fliodhaise) are potentially made up of deer in addition to cows, making the volume and exceptionality of her herd make more sense in context (2).
The Mayo Táin
The Táin Bó Flidais is sometimes referred to as The Mayo Táin, because the story takes place in Erris, County Mayo. Because of this, there's some folklore versions of the story that are specific to County Mayo. In these some of these versions, Ailill is renamed to Dónall Dualbhuí and Flidais is sometimes renamed to Muinchinn. Othertimes Dónall is identified as Ailill's father. Here, the Maol Fliodhaise is seen as the most prized cow within Flidais' herd, and that she rested specifically on the hill of Mullach Rua, somtimes known as Tulach na Maoile for her presence there (8). Interestingly, this hill is located in County Sligo, not very close to Erris at all.
In one version of events, Flidais or Muinchinn conspires with Fergus and secretly swaps the swords of Dónall and Fergus before they battle, so that Fergus wields Dónall's magic sword. This leads to Fergus' victory, where he takes Dónalls property and Flidais joins him. However, after he and Flidais cross a river, Fergus is struck by the realization that he cannot trust a woman who had betrayed her husband, and so drowns her in the river. This river is the one that runs flows out of Carrowmore lake, and is apparently called the Munchin after her (8).
In the versions where Dónall is Ailill's father, Dónall arrives at Glenamoy (not too far from Dún Flidhais) while Queen Medb's army is retreating after the taking of Flidais and her herds. Dónall's army consisted not only of men, but also a large number of wolfhounds, which viciously attack Medb's forces, causing serious losses. Then, Fergus faces Dónall in one-on-one combat, where he slays Dónall. When this news reaches Dónall's grandson Muireadhach the Stutterer, he attacked Medb's forces and recovered Flidais and her Maol (13).
It's here that Flidais' connection to County Mayo is truly solidified. While the events of The Táin Bó Flidais occur near Carrowmore lake in County Mayo regardless of which version we're reading, here we see specific locations associated with her and her cattle.
Flidais' Associations
So, what can we gather about Flidais from this information? Well, her connection to milk and milking animals is obvious. Through this she is obviously a deity of abundance. She brings abundance through food, but I would suggest that it could also apply to wealth. Nia Ségmain's associations with wealth contribute (2)(11), but also the simple fact that cows were the currency of ancient Ireland. The more cows you had (and therefore the more milk you had), the wealthier you were, and Flidais clearly had a lot of milk.
There is a connection to her being a healer in her role of healing the men in the Táin Bó Flidais (1). There is another connection to her being a healer in the Leabhar Breac, where a healing spell is written out in the lower margin of page 99 that addresses her and her daughters (10). Though, it seems she can hurt as well as heal. While she does not take an active violent role in the Táin Bó Flidais, she is the source of conflict and does contribute to the demise of Ailill (1). Her entry in the Banshenchus, while short and the only reference to her being directly violent, may hint that her actions of violence particularly target men (3).
The argument for her being connected to motherhood or being a motherly figure can also be made. Her close association with lactation (albeit in animals), her 7 children, and at least 1 reference to directly giving one of her children a gift (Ségmain's ability to milk both cows and does) (2)(5). She also takes on a providing role in the Táin Bó Cúailnge (4).
She is passionate and emotional in her relationship with Fergus (1), falling in love with him quickly and willing to take action to be with him. She is also of course passionate in a sexual sense as well, being equal to seven women. Though I would personally caution against labeling her as a "Sex Goddess". It clearly isn't her biggest focus; it's just something she happens to be good at. Personally, I take it as an example of her passion and dual nature.
There is also a connection to sovereignty. In the Táin Bó Flidais, she is the one who owns Dún Flidhais and her herds are seen as hers, not Ailill's. In the later version of the story, it is mentioned that she inhabits a "fairy-dwelling", ie. a síd mound (14). This may or not be the same place as Dún Flidhais, but regardless it adds to the sovereignty association as a woman who rules over a síd mound is typically seen as the queen of that mound.
In another source, her home is said to be on a hill above Loch Letriach, Scotland (14). This location in Scotland is interesting, as there are many folktales of Cailleachs, or hags, in the Scottish hills that watch over and protect their own herds of deer, sometimes called their "cattle" (14). They would protect their herds from hunters fiercely, and would use magic to hide their herds or curse hunters that poached them (14). The Cailleach Bheurr particularly stands out, as she is associated with deer and is said to own a magical cow (14). If there is a connection, this would obviously strengthen Flidais' associations with deer, but also with magic, liminal power, and sovereignty.
In terms of animals, her connection to cows is the strongest stand out, with deer a close second. O hOgáin states that "she was said to have had a herd of deer as well as of cattle, and both wild and domesticated animals were known as her 'cattle' (bhur Fliodhaise)" (8). In other words, saying that all animals are her "cattle". This may be a bit of a stretch for some, but it follows directly off her strong associations with cattle and deer, so it makes sense to me.
In my opinion, the association with both domestic and wild contributes to her being seemingly dual natured. She is both domestic (cattle, motherhood, healer) and wild (deer, sexual, violent). She both loves Ailill and helps destroy him (1). This dual nature also invites associations with liminality, and all that encompasses. Her (potentially) ruling a síd mound also supports this, as síd mounds are inherently powerful, liminal places.
Modern Misinformation
Now we are finally getting around to the misinformation I mentioned in the first paragraph. The modern view of Flidais is very focused around deer and the forest. While this isn't exactly wrong, it is largely overblown. She is commonly referred to as the "Celtic Goddess of the Forest" (hence the name of this post) or even "Irish Artemis". Her associations with deer completely overshadow everything else about her, and there are a few reasons for this. Firstly, it's only been relatively recently that scholars have been focusing on taking Celtic deities on their own merit. What I mean by this is that for a long time, it was extremely common for scholars to directly compare or equate Celtic deities to Greco-Roman ones. This leads to a lot of headaches because there was no care given to cultural context. Celtic culture is fundamentally different to Greco-Roman culture, therefore Celtic deities can never be directly equated to Greco-Roman ones without misunderstanding who they are.
Since this post is about Flidais, I'll use her as an example. I've seen quite a few academic sources equate Flidais to Artemis/Diana (usually never fully explaining why) and can only assume purely based on the fact that both are associated with deer. Flidais is not a huntress, her deer are not prey she hunts down, they are part of her herds that she watches over and milks. Further, of course, is that Flidais' association with domestic animals is just as strong, if not stronger, than her association with wild ones. Admittedly, I'm no scholar or expert in Greco-Roman deities. However, I do know that Artemis is largely considered a Goddess of the hunt, the wild, protection of young girls, and chastity. Flidais only shares maybe one of those associations with her (the wild-but not even in the same way as Artemis is). They differ in some pretty significant ways that I hope are obvious.
This merging with Artemis/Diana has contributed to some long-lasting misconceptions about Flidais. One of which is the idea that Flidais rode in a chariot drawn by deer, which has no textual evidence. This article suggests this may be from partially assimilating her with Diana, who was sometimes depicted on coins as driving a chariot drawn by deer (7). Flidais being seen mainly as a Goddess of the forest, the hunt, of wilderness, etc., is almost certainly from the same type of assimilation.
Modern Associations and Practice
So, does that mean that most modern pagans that worship Flidais (of which there are very few anyway) are wrong? Well, despite how harsh I may have sounded, not entirely. I think completely ignoring her domestic side is doing both her and her potential followers a disservice, in that the full picture of who she is is not being presented to people. But her wild associations are there too and ignoring them in an attempt to over-correct the current view of her would be silly and doing her a similar disservice.
I think it makes sense to associate Flidais with the woodlands. If her herds are made up of cattle and deer (or even potentially all animals), then that's where they live. Of course, she would want the habitat of her herds to be healthy (in fact, Carrowmore lake is now designated as a Special Protection Area for the Birds Directive under E.U. law and as a Special Area of Conservation, which is incredibly fitting). I think it makes sense to envision her using a chariot drawn by deer. Chariots were important in Celtic society (though notably none have been found in Ireland), and her associations with deer are strong enough to justify it. It may not be a historically accurate image or portrayal of Flidais, but it can be a beautiful one. It's just important to know where information comes from.
Material offerings to Flidais should ideally be milk or milk-products. Milk, butter, yogurt, cheese, etc. would all be ideal. Offerings of service or time could include caring for any pets you have, volunteering to help the environment or wildlife in some way, or making sure everyone in the household eats. One could pray to her for matters of healing (both humans and animals), abundance, guidance, wisdom, sexual confidence, and even protection (in the sense that mothers protect their charges). If you are a lactating parent, you might consider connecting to her.
As for what could go on a personal altar dedicated to her or something similar, there is a cattle breed in Ireland called the Irish Moiled (Bó Maol in Irish), one of the oldest Irish breeds, that is hornless and typically white and red in color. I will often use pictures of this breed to represent the Maol. I view these cows as particularly sacred to her as they fit the description of her special Maol Fliodhaise almost perfectly.
In terms of gems/crystals, amethyst has been found on Achill Island and quartz has been found in the Moneen Quarry, Castlebar. Both locations are within County Mayo, though not particularly close to Carrowmore lake. Even so, I keep a small amethyst and a small quartz on my altar to serve as a little connection to the county she is connected to (mine are not from Ireland, but the idea/symbolism stands).
In my personal practice I try to keep all aspects of her in mind, but I do find myself defaulting to viewing her as an "Animal Goddess". What can I say, I'm an animal person, and I love how she encompasses all animals. Even so, she can surprise me, showing up to guide me in an almost motherly way. I offer her milk regularly and pray to her for healing and protection for my (domestic) pets. The wisdom and guidance she's given to me (and continues to) has been beyond the realm of animals, so her influence is by no means limited to that. In my experience, she is balanced and strong. Her dual nature makes her wise, and I have experienced her as both gentle and firm. Firm in that she does not tolerate disrespect (not that you'd be trying to disrespect any deity...right?) and she will be honest with you. Gentle like you'd expect from a mother figure. She is honorable, strong, passionate, and steady. I have personally found her to be a consistent, steady, and gentle presence. Though, I'm sure her presentation to individuals depends on what they best respond to, like a mother knowing how to best approach her different children.
Flidais continues to enrich my life, and while I have only been worshipping her for around 3 years at this point, I expect her to be a presence in my life for quite some time to come. She is more than a Goddess of animals, the wild, the woodland. She is a Goddess of domestic and wild, cattle and deer, motherhood and abundance, passion and wisdom, and more than that still.
Healer of all, destroyer of men, Flidais the Queen; may your herds, the bhur Fliodhaise, forever prosper. For you, always.
Sources
The Driving Cattle of Flidais (Táin Bó Flidais) from Heroic Romances of Ireland, Vol. II by A.H Leahy, 1906. Heroic Romances of Ireland, Vol. II
The Fitness of Names (Cóir Anmann) Cóir Anmann: Fitness of Names lines 25-26
The Lore of Women (Banshenchus) Banshenchus
The Cattle Raid of Cooley (Táin Bó Cúailnge): Leinster version Táin Bó Cúalnge from the Book of Leinster p.146, Dunn Translation (Section 6, The March of the Host) 6. The March of the Host | My Site 1
The Book of Invasions (Lebor Gabala Erenn) Lebor Gabala Erenn pt 4 line 62
The Lore of Place Names vol. 3 (The Metrical Dindshenchas) The Metrical Dindshenchas poem 49, p.261
A Celtic Deer Goddess? theses.univ-lyon2.fr/documents/getpart.php?id=lyon2.2009.beck_n&part=159144
The Lore of Ireland - An Encyclopaedia of Myth, Legend and Romance by Dáithí O hOgáin, 2006 print.
Dictionary of Celtic Mythology by James MacKillop, 1998 print.
'A spell called Éle' by J. Borsje in G. Toner & S. Mac Mathúna (Eds.), Ulidia 3: Proceedings of the Third Internation Conference on the Ulster Cycle of Tales, University of Ulster, Coleraine 22-25 June, 2009; in memoriam Patrick Leo Henry (2013) A spell called Éle (pdf download available)
Foras Feasa ar Éirinn by Geoffrey Keating, 1857. p 260-261. Foras Feasa Ar Eirinn Do Réir an Athar Seathrun Céiting, Ollamh Ré Diadhach... - Google Books
The Colloquy of the Old Men (Acallamh na Senórach) Acallamh na Senórach, Acallamh na Senórach
Táin Bó Flidhais in Co. Mayo https://www.mayo-ireland.ie/en/about-mayo/arts-culture/myths-legends/tain-bo-flidhais.html
Celtic Cosmology and The Otherworld: Mythic Origins, Sovereignty and Liminality by Sharon Paice MacLeod, 2018 print.
you are still pure.
St Levan & Tregiffian, Cornwall.
Racism in pagan and witchcraft communities can be dismissing the issue of cultural appropriation by claiming it doesn't bother the gods and in fact they want you to do it.
true story. I was teaching a class on chaos magic at my local metaphysical shop a few weeks ago (not usually my cup of tea, but the shop owner was out of town for a few weeks and wanted to keep her calendar running as normal, so I volunteered to help out)
during my class I had mentioned that, while chaos magicians tend to use a very 'eclectic' approach to their magic, that it is vital to stay sensitive to other cultures and avoid appropriation. one of the students, an older gentleman, looked right at me and said "the gods don't care what race you are!"
only adding on this comment to say that, yes, this is an excuse that many people will try to peddle to you. don't fall for it.
The Irish Mythology Tarot ✨ The Queen of Swords, Boann, Goddess of the River Boyne
If you’d like to join the mailing list for the eventual physical deck, you can do so here.
Aengus & Caer 🩵
The Irish Mythology Tarot ~ King of Swords, Manannán Mac Lir
I’ve finally finished drawing the suit of Swords for the revamped Irish Mythology Tarot! Owners of my original deck will notice that this is a revamped version of the artwork for the Emperor because I’m shuffling around a few of the characters now that I’m working with a wider range of cards.
The original drawing of Manannán is one of my favourite things I’ve ever made, so I really enjoyed updating it to suit my current style.
If you’d like to join the mailing list for the eventual physical deck, you can do so here.
I’ll be posting more cards next week! So excited for everyone to see them!
Anecdotally I think that a certain band gets far too much credit for getting people to learn irish ngl because of the people I know (a number of people) who have decided to learn it because of the resurgence of irish in pop culture basically none of them have stuck with it because it turns out learning a language is hard and you need to actually care about it to do it
More irish media is good obviously but I think people are far too optimistic about the power of a band or other things like social media as gaeilge to get people to learn and continue with what is actually an extremely difficult language. not to be a hater but if we want to preserve irish we have to concentrate far more on people who already speak it and we have to be realistic about whether the average person who wants to learn irish because xyz made it cool is going to survive verb conjugations because ime they don’t
i think with so much of these things it's the focus on new learners v more advanced speakers that's the real issue. yeah we should have more modern music and media and compelling books/tv etc in irish... because it means that people who have irish can actually live their lives through irish rather than only being able to access entertainment in other languages
but at the same time, once you have those things, it also gives people a reason to stick around if they are learning. both because there is a reward (=thing you want to interact with) on the other side of the challenge, and because on a practical level it's the same issue: it is hard to continue and to attain fluency when you can't live through the language and do the things you want to do through the language and therefore make it a central part of your life
so learners and fluent speakers alike benefit from the creation of media etc and this is an important thing to do (note: this is not a substitute for actually tackling issues like housing in the gaeltacht. this is just one dimension of the broader irish-speaking world). BUT the thing is that the focus should not be on BEGINNERS all the time. and that's the thing i think keeps being a stumbling point. there's a focus on getting people in the door and not on keeping them there once they're in. especially for those who are well beyond basics but not at total native fluency
cool, people can try irish out a bit. can they live in it though. can they use it. can they interact with it in everyday life. or is it going to be just the special plate you get out at special occasions but you use the everyday dishes (english) the rest of the time
using it in everyday life includes media and entertainment... the focus just needs to be less all about lighting the spark and more about keeping those flames alight so you can cook on them. if the fire is burning steady the sparks will take care of themselves
also like I've talked about the idea of kinda... harnessing the power of fandom to drive interest with @grimdr. now we were mostly just talking in the context of trying to increase demand for queer SFF in irish and gaelic lmao so not a General Statement about the languages as a whole. but it is true that i know multiple people who have learned a language cos they got into badly dubbed anime or a cdrama or a novel series where only two books were translated, and realised if they ever wanted to get the story properly, they needed the language. and while many of those people give up, many of them also stick it out and learn. because there is something they want from it and because the thing they want is big enough to sustain the drive
i think you're right in that i'm not convinced that a few songs (which people can enjoy without understanding the words) or some social media posts (which are by their nature ephemeral) are necessarily enough to activate that "I need to get on the other side of this language barrier" instinct, or if they do spark it, to keep it activated long term
and until there is more produced for speakers of irish – material firmly on the other side of the language barrier, material that is aimed at fluent speakers, material that is interesting and compelling in its own right and not just as a sociolinguistic project (which is what you'd think half the books being published in irish were given how their own publishers blurb and describe them. which is not true! they need to fix their marketing! that's a different rant) – then things might spark interest but the long-term drive and productive frustration of "i want to get past this wall because there is something on the other side that I value" is not there
which is just another way of saying people need to be able to live in it. if there is no life on the other side of the wall then people will not cross it. BUT I do think in these contexts there is big scope for media and fandom and the chronically online to play a role! I'm just not sure that fleeting phenomena are going to be it, I think it needs to be bigger and more sustained and more geared at the fluent irish-speaking side of the wall than the beginners eyeing it up from the other side. and of course it's also crucial that whatever cool new shit is happening in irish isn't simultaneously happening in english, otherwise, again, no wall crossing
like. there's stuff on the other side of the wall that *I* want. but most of it's academic articles and obscure early modern texts and whatever. not everyone is a freak, and even being who i am and with my personality, that can be pretty hard to sustain on a daily basis when there are limited opportunities for more casual immersion-through-hobbies
Duntrune Castle, Argyle, Scotland
Sleeping Deer by Leny Silina Helmig
Red deer (Cervus elaphus)
What Mythology Actually Means in Celtic Reconstructionism
Celtic Reconstructionism starts with a claim that sounds simple: the gods are real, distinct beings, and the primary way to know them is through the historical record. That claim has practical consequences that separate CR from most modern pagan approaches to the same material.
Lore First
The CR FAQ divides sources into primary, secondary, and tertiary.1 Primary material is the manuscripts and folklore recorded directly from living tradition. Secondary is scholarship: translations, academic analysis, critical editions. Tertiary is books and articles that use on primary and secondary sources.
The hierarchy is about traceability. If you’re working with the Dagda, your understanding of him comes from direct translations of texts like the Cath Maige Tuired and Lebor Gabála Érenn. Secondary scholarship like Gods and Heroes of the Celts by Marie-Louise Sjoestedt is useful for context.
Much of the written record, including Lebor Gabála Érenn, contains internal contradictions. CR treats this as evidence that the tradition was always alive and contested, not a fixed revealed truth.
How CR Differs from Neopagan Approaches
Most modern pagan traditions treat the gods as archetypes: aspects of a larger divine principle, interchangeable across cultures, selectable based on the practitioner’s need. CR rejects this.1 The Dagda and Zeus are not different masks on the same face. The Morrígan is not a stand-in for any other war goddess. These are specific beings with specific relationships to specific places, texts, and expectations.
You can’t build a CR practice by pulling a Celtic deity name from a list and pairing it with Wiccan or ceremonial magic ritual structures. The theological and cultural context is part of what you’re working with.1
CR also resists pan-Celtic practice, treating Irish, Welsh, and Gaulish material as interchangeable because they’re all “Celtic.” The traditions are related but distinct. Irish CR works with Irish sources and Irish context.1
Where UPG Fits
UPG (Unverified Personal Gnosis) is spiritual experience that can’t be substantiated by historical sources.1 CR doesn’t dismiss it, but requires that practitioners label it clearly so personal experience doesn’t contaminate the shared record.
The lore takes precedence because it represents the accumulated, tested framework of a tradition. Personal gnosis is individual data. It might be genuine communication from a deity. It might be projection. There’s nothing wrong with having UPG in your own practice, but you shouldn’t expect others to adopt it as well (unless you’re able to back up your position with evidence).
Relationship and Reciprocity
CR practice requires no fixed liturgy and no priestly intermediary. Practitioners develop ongoing relationships with specific deities through prayer, offering, and sustained engagement with the lore.1 The model is closer to a relationship built over time than to a ritual system: you show up consistently, learn what the other party values, and maintain your obligations.
The reciprocity framework comes from Irish culture directly. Altar inscriptions from the early period show offerings made in fulfillment of vows, payment for services rendered.1 Relationship with the divine involves mutual obligation: the gods have responsibilities toward those in relationship with them, and practitioners have responsibilities in return. Hospitality and keeping your word are the structure of the practice, not courtesies layered on top of it.
Offerings in CR are participation in an exchange that sustains the relationship.
Sovereignty Theology as a Practical Lens
The Irish sovereignty goddess concept is usually presented as historical background: a goddess personifies the land, the king marries her symbolically, abundance follows.2 That framing treats it as a political metaphor the medieval Irish used to justify kingship.
CR practice goes further. The theological principle is that legitimate relationship with land requires reciprocity, proper conduct, and acknowledgment of the land’s divine character. A just king produces abundance, a false king produces blight. That causality isn’t limited to Bronze Age political arrangements.2
For practitioners in the diaspora working with Irish tradition outside Ireland, this generates real questions about obligation and place, questions the CR community is still working through.1
Working with Ériu or the Morrígan in their sovereignty aspects means engaging with that framework. The mythology is the record of the theology, and the theology generates the practice.
What Belief Looks Like
Whether the ancient Irish wholly believed their myths the way a modern person believes a news report is unanswerable. Their literary tradition was sophisticated and self-conscious: the filid reworked myths across generations. Paul Veyne’s Did the Greeks Believe in Their Myths? offers a useful framework for how ancient peoples could hold myth as simultaneously sacred, historical, and poetic without contradiction.
For CR practitioners, the question isn’t whether you accept the Lebor Gabála Érenn as historical fact before approaching the gods. The myths provide a framework for knowing who these beings are, what they value, and what a right relationship with them looks like. That framework is what CR asks you to engage with.
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Celtic Mythology by Proinsias Mac Cana ↩︎ ↩︎
Síd in Broga / Newgrange
Some pics of Newgrange on approach, the entrance and ofc it's beautiful entrance stone, a close-up of the roofbox, and pics and close-ups of the two carved kerbstones. One is directly at the back opposite the entrance stone, and the other is a quarter turn around the mound. All three exterior carved stones are done deeply and with precision with regular patterns extending across the large surfaces. Masons 5200 years ago made these works of art!!!!! 🤯
The tour still brings you inside Newgrange, unlike at Knowth (crying) which was incredible though I stg I will travel back in time simply to haunt tf out of those Victorian asshats who graffitied the inside and disturbed all the remains 💀💀
The History of Modern Beltane Traditions
Most Beltane guides list the same several customs: bonfires, May dew, flower crowns, the maypole, the May Queen and Green Man, handfasting, and the sacred union of God and Goddess. They’re usually presented as ancient Celtic traditions that have been handed down more or less intact.
Some of these customs have real Irish or Celtic roots. Some come from English May Day traditions that got folded in over centuries. One (the Green Man) was coined in 1939. And one of the most popular “Celtic” wedding rituals turns out to be Old Norse in origin.
None of this means your practice is wrong or needs to change. But if you’re drawn to Bealtaine, it’s worth knowing what parts of your ritual or celebration connect to which traditions.
This article focuses on the Irish record, because Bealtaine is an Irish festival. The main sources are Sanas Cormaic (a ninth-century Irish glossary), Kevin Danaher’s The Year in Ireland (1972), the Dúchas Schools’ Collection, and Ronald Hutton’s The Stations of the Sun (1996). For more on the protective customs of Bealtaine, see Irish folk traditions for Bealtaine.
The Bonfire: Old, But Not as Old as It’s Often Claimed
The bonfire is the oldest documented part of Irish Bealtaine. But “oldest” here means around 900 CE; still a genuinely old tradition, but not the ancient prehistory it’s often claimed to be.
The source for it is Sanas Cormaic, a glossary of Irish words attributed to Cormac mac Cuilennáin, a bishop and king of Munster. Under the entry for Belltaine, it describes “two fires which Druids used to make with great incantations” and says cattle were driven toward those fires. The famous detail about cattle being driven between two fires comes from a note added to one manuscript later, not from the main text.
The glossary also gives two contradictory origins for the word “Beltane” — “lucky fire” in one place, “fire of Bil, an idol god” in another. In a 2005 article in Studia Celtica, scholar Éimear Williams argued that these entries are word-origin guesses, not records of actual practice. The glossary’s writer was speculating, not documenting.
The 17th-century historian Geoffrey Keating describes elaborate May Day assemblies with bonfires, but Ronald Hutton warns that Keating may have combined the glossary’s speculation with other sources to create “a piece of pseudo-history.” Hutton, 1996
The evidence becomes solid in the 18th and 19th centuries. In 1838, a Leinster farmer named Humphrey O'Sullivan wrote in his diary about driving cattle between two fires on May Eve as a matter of course. Sir William Wilde, writing in 1852, described people leaping the flames before journeys or weddings, and carrying embers home to relight their hearths. Danaher documents the custom well into the 20th century, with the last survivals in Waterford, Kilkenny, and Tipperary.
The fire custom is real and Irish. The 18th and 19th-century evidence is strong. The medieval evidence is thin. Danaher also notes that May Eve fire customs overlap heavily with Midsummer (St. John’s Eve) customs, many of the same practices appear at both dates, so claiming the fire as exclusively a Bealtaine thing is harder than it looks.
Modern Beltane keeps the bonfire and the jumping of flames. The meaning has shifted from protecting livestock to celebrating joy and renewal, but the fire itself stands on solid historical, if not ancient, traditions.
May Dew: Real, But Not Uniquely Irish
Gathering dew before sunrise on May morning is well documented in Ireland. The beliefs were specific: washing your face in May dew gave a fair complexion.duchas.ie Washing the feet and face was thought to protect the washer from illness for the year. duchas.ie A man who washed his hands in it would gain skill with knots and locks duchas.ie. Danaher confirms the custom was known across Ireland into the 20th century.
The earliest Irish documentation on May Day dew is Gerard Boate’s Natural History of Ireland (1652) and Lady Wilde’s Ancient Cures, Charms and Usages (1890).
The custom also isn’t distinctively Irish. Samuel Pepys recorded his wife going out to gather May dew in London in 1667 and again in 1669. Hugh Plat’s Delightes for Ladies (c. 1600) recommends May dew for sore eyes. The tradition also appears across Germany, Romania, and Scandinavia in the same period.
Of the seven customs covered here, this one travels most cleanly from the historical record into contemporary practice.
Flowers: Scattered for Protection, Not Worn as Crowns
Gathering yellow flowers on May Eve or May morning is a genuinely Irish practice. Camden’s Britannia (1610) records it. Sir Henry Piers described it in 1682. The Dúchas Schools’ Collection from the 1930s is full of accounts of children collecting primroses, cowslips, buttercups, and furze-blossoms before dawn (learn more about that practice).
In the Irish record, though, the flowers were used for protection, not decoration. They were scattered on doorsteps, thresholds, and windowsills, laid around wells, and tied to cows’ tails and horses’ bridles. The Dúchas accounts put it plainly: “no fairy can pass over primroses.” The idea was that fairies and malicious neighbors couldn’t cross a threshold scattered with certain flowers.
Flower crowns worn on the head aren’t part of the Irish Bealtaine record. They come from English May Day traditions with roots in the Roman festival of Floralia. The Catholic “Queen of the May” crowning custom, a girl crowned with flowers in honor of Mary, is a 19th-century devotional practice promoted by Pope Gregory XVI from 1837.
The Maypole: English, Brought to Ireland by Settlers
The earliest documented maypole appears in a mid-14th-century Welsh poem by Gryffydd ap Adda ap Dafydd. By 1350–1400, the custom was well established across southern Britain, in both Welsh-speaking and English-speaking areas. Hutton, 1996
In Ireland, maypoles were brought by English and Scottish settlers after the Plantations of the 16th and 17th centuries. They never became common in rural Ireland. The earliest recorded Irish maypole is at Holywood, County Down, on a 1620 map. Others appear in towns with strong English connections: Harold’s Cross, Kilkenny, Mountmellick, Downpatrick. Danaher says plainly: “The May pole was unknown in the country districts, and was probably introduced into the towns by the English.” In 1812, an Englishwoman at Rathkeale in County Limerick set up a maypole and encouraged locals to dance around it. The novelty wore off, and the experiment failed.
The plaited-ribbon dance that most people picture today is even more recent. Hutton traces it to a romantic drama called Richard Plantagenet, performed at the Victoria Theatre in London in 1836. That was the first known instance of dancers holding ribbons from the top of a pole and weaving them in a pattern. The custom spread from there to village fetes and school events across England through the 1840s and 1880s.
One more thing: the idea that the maypole is a phallic symbol has no historical basis. Hutton writes that there’s “no sign that the people who used maypoles thought that they were phallic.” That reading came from Thomas Hobbes in the 17th century and was amplified by 19th-century psychoanalytic interpretations of folk custom.
The May Queen and the Green Man: Victorian and 1939
These two figures are usually treated as a pair, but they have entirely separate histories, and both are younger than many think.
The May Queen
An English tradition of a “Lord and Lady of the May” presiding over May Day festivities goes back to London diarist Henry Machyn in 1557. Over time the paired figures became a single girl. But the May Queen in her familiar form (a girl in white, crowned with flowers, leading a solemn procession) is largely a Victorian invention. Hutton, 1996
Tennyson’s popular poem “The May Queen” appeared in 1830. Hutton documents how scenes of May Queens, maypoles, and morris dancing reached their peak in London theatres and fetes in the 1840s. In 1881, art critic John Ruskin joined forces with J.P. Faunthorpe, principal of Whitelands teacher-training college, to design a formal May Queen ceremony. As Whitelands graduates spread the custom to schools across the country, the college eventually claimed to be “the fostering mother of all May Days.”
There’s no equivalent figure in Irish Bealtaine. The Dúchas record shows Irish May Day as communal and often boisterous: bonfires, the May Bush, music, neighbors competing over the best-decorated bush. Where a May King or Queen appears in Irish accounts, Danaher notes it’s in English-influenced towns. In rural Ireland, the ritual role was often played by a young man dressed as a woman, quite different from the solemnly crowned girl of modern Beltane.
The Green Man
The term “Green Man” was coined in a single article published in 1939 in the journal Folklore, by Lady Julia Raglan. Drawing on James George Frazer’s ideas about vegetation spirits, she argued that foliage-covered faces carved in medieval churches, the “Jack in the Green” figure from English May Day processions, and the Green Man pub sign were all versions of the same ancient pagan god. She borrowed the name from the pub sign.
Later scholarship took each part of this apart. Kathleen Basford’s The Green Man (1978) traced foliate heads to classical Roman decorative art, passed through manuscript traditions, and found the motif originally had a demonic quality — not spring renewal. Roy Judge’s The Jack-in-the-Green (1979) traced the Jack figure to an 1775 report in the Morning Chronicle about London chimney sweeps’ May Day parades, which had grown out of 17th-century milkmaid garland processions. Hutton concluded in a 2023 Gresham College lecture that “none of the three things had anything to do with each other or with a pagan god.” Library of Congress
Handfasting: Old Norse in Origin, More Complicated Than It Seems
The word “handfasting” comes from Old Norse handfesta, meaning to strike a bargain by joining hands. There’s no Irish version of the word.
In medieval Scotland, “handfasting” meant betrothal: a formal, legally binding engagement, not a trial marriage.
Sir Walter Scott made the idea famous. In his 1820 novel The Monastery, a fictional character declares: “We take our wives, like our horses, upon trial. When we are handfasted, as we term it, we are man and wife for a year and a day.” From there it entered popular writing and eventually academic work as a supposed ancient Celtic custom.
In Ireland, the early Irish marriage law text Cáin Lánamna (c. 700 CE) recognizes many types of union but says nothing about handfasting, cord-binding, or seasonal marriage customs. If any Irish festival had a historical link to matchmaking, it was Lughnasadh. The Tailteann games historically included marriage arrangements. Marriage in May was actually considered unlucky in Irish folk tradition.
The cord-binding ceremony itself, with hands tied together with ribbons or cords, has no precedent before the mid-20th century. It was developed within Wicca in the 1940s and 1950s.
The Sacred Union: The Irish Precedent Beltane Didn’t Inherit
Ireland does have a concept of a sacred marriage. The banais ríghi, which means “wedding feast of kingship,” describes the symbolic union between a new king and the goddess of the land he would rule. The king’s right to rule depended on the land-goddess accepting him. Under a good king she flourished; under a bad one, the land suffered. This appears in medieval annals, law texts, and mythology. Figures like Ériu, Medb, and Flaithius function as sovereignty figures in these stories. Máire Herbert examined this directly in her 1992 paper “Goddess and King: The Sacred Marriage in Early Ireland,” published in Women and Sovereignty (Edinburgh University Press).
However banais ríghi is most closely linked to Samhain, not Bealtaine. No early Irish source connects the sacred marriage of king and land to May 1.
The modern Beltane sacred union — the God and Goddess whose marriage drives the Wheel of the Year — comes from a different lineage. James George Frazer’s The Golden Bough (1890–1915) proposed that ancient religions centered on a dying-and-rising god whose sacred marriage to an earth goddess drove the seasons. Gerald Gardner drew on Frazer’s ideas, along with Margaret Murray’s witch-cult hypothesis (which has since been disproven) and ceremonial magic, to build Wicca in the 1940s and 1950s.
Knowing where these customs actually come from doesn’t mean you have to practice differently. Modern Beltane is its own tradition at this point, built from a years of borrowing, revival, and reinvention. But knowing which parts are Irish, which are English, which are Victorian, and which were invented last century gives you context to work with.