13.
River and Well Worship
The Celts held their deities that lived in the waters in high esteem, a practice (in a changed form) adopted by the later christian church. Even today people bring offerings to wells in the hope to be cured from a disease. Several waters are named after the old deities. Some wells have been worshipped through the times by different peoples with different religions.
What follows are descriptions and tales from an old source:
mong the Celts the testimony of contemporary witnesses,
inscriptions, votive offerings, and survivals, shows the importance of the cult
of waters and of water divinities. Mr. Gomme argues that Celtic water-worship
was derived from the pre-Celtic aborigines, but if so, the Celts must have had
a peculiar aptitude for it, since they were so enthusiastic in its observance.
What probably happened was that the Celts, already worshippers of the waters,
freely adopted local cults of water wherever they came. Some rivers or
river-goddesses in Celtic regions seem to posses pre-Celtic names.
Treasures were flung into a sacred lake near Toulouse to
cause a pestilence to cease. Caepion,
who afterwards fished up this treasure, fell soon after in battle--a punishment
for cupidity, and aurum Tolosanum now
became an expression for goods dishonestly acquired. A yearly festival, lasting
three days, took place at Lake Gévaudan. Garments, food, and wax were thrown
into the waters, and animals were sacrificed. On the fourth day, it is said,
there never failed to spring up a tempest of rain, thunder, and lightning--a
strange reward for this worship of the lake. (Perhaps the feast and offerings
were intended to cause rain in time of drought.) S. Columba routed the spirits of a Scottish
fountain which was worshipped as a god, and the well now became sacred, perhaps
to the saint himself, who washed in it and blessed it so that it cured
diseases.
On inscriptions a river name is prefixed by some divine
epithet--dea, augusta, and the
worshipper records his gratitude for benefits received from the divinity or the
river itself. Bormanus, Bormo or Borvo, Danuvius (the Danube), and Luxovius are found on inscriptions as
names of river or fountain gods, but goddesses are more numerous--Acionna, Aventia, Bormana, Brixia,
Carpundia, Clutoida, Divona, Sirona, Ura--well-nymphs; and Icauna (the Yonne), Matrona, and Sequana (the Seine)--river-goddesses. No
inscription to the goddess of a lake has yet been found. Some personal names
like Dubrogenos (son of the Dubron), Enigenus (son of the Aenus), and the
belief of Virdumarus that one of his
ancestors was the Rhine, point to the idea that river-divinities might have
amours with mortals and beget progeny called by their names. In Ireland, Conchobar was so named from the river
whence his mother Nessa drew water, perhaps because he was a child of the
river-god.
he name of the water-divinity was sometimes given to the
place of his or her cult, or to the towns which sprang up on the banks of
rivers-the divinity thus becoming a tutelary god. Many towns (e.g. Divonne or
Dyonne, etc.) have names derived from a common Celtic river name Deuona, "divine." This name in
various forms is found all over the Celtic area. (The Scots and English Dee;
the Divy in Wales; Dêve, Dive, and Divette in France; Devon in England; Deva in
Spain. The Shannon is surnamed even in the seventh century "the
goddess".) And there is little doubt that the Celts, in their onward
progress, named river after river by the name of the same divinity, believing
that each new river was a part of his or her kingdom. The name was probably
first an appellative, then a personal name, the divine river becoming a
divinity. Deus Nemausus occurs on
votive tablets at Nimes, the name Nemausus
being that of the clear and abundant spring there whence flowed the river of
the same name. A similar name occurs in other regions--Nemesa, a tributary of the Moselle; Nemh, the source of the Tara and the former name of the Blackwater;
and Nimis, a Spanish river mentioned
by Appian. Another group includes the Matrona
(Marne), the Moder, the Madder, the Maronne and Maronna, and
others, probably derived from a word signifying "mother." (Perhaps Matrona is Ligurian. But it seems to
have strong Celtic affinities.) The mother-river was that which watered a whole
region, just as in the Hindu sacred books the waters are mothers, sources of
fertility. The Celtic mother-rivers were probably goddesses, akin to the Matres, givers of plenty and fertility.
In Gaul, Sirona, a river-goddess, is
represented like the Matres. She was
associated with Grannos, perhaps as
his mother, and Professor Rhŷs equates the pair with the Welsh Modron and Mabon; Modron is probably
connected with Matrona. In any case the Celts regarded rivers as
bestowers of life, health, and plenty, and offered them rich gifts and
sacrifices.
Gods like Grannos,
Borvo, and others, equated with Apollo, presided over healing springs,
and they are usually associated with goddesses, as their husbands or sons. But
as the goddesses are more numerous, and as most Celtic river names are
feminine, female divinities of rivers and springs doubtless had the earlier and
foremost place, especially as their cult was connected with fertility. The
gods, fewer in number, were all equated with Apollo, but the goddesses were not merged by the Romans into the
personality of one goddess, since they themselves had their groups of
river-goddesses, Nymphs and Naiads. Before the Roman conquest the cult of
water-divinities, friends of mankind, must have formed a large part of the popular
religion of Gaul, and their names may be counted by hundreds. Thermal springs
had also their genii, and they were appropriated by the Romans, so that the
local gods now shared their healing powers with Apollo, Æsculapius, and
the Nymphs. Thus every spring, every woodland brook, every river in glen or
valley, the roaring cataract, and the lake were haunted by divine beings,
mainly thought of as beautiful females with whom the Matres were undoubtedly associated. There they revealed themselves
to their worshippers, and when paganism had passed away, they remained as fées
or fairies haunting spring, or well, or river. . (By extension of this belief
any divinity might appear by the haunted spring. S. Patrick and his synod of
bishops at an Irish well were supposed to be síd or gods.) Scores of fairy
wells still exist, and by them mediæval knights had many a fabled amour with
those beautiful beings still seen by the "ignorant" but romantic
peasant.
anctuaries were erected at these springs by grateful
worshippers, and at some of them festivals were held, or they were the resort
of pilgrims. As sources of fertility they had a place in the ritual of the
great festivals, and sacred wells were visited on Midsummer day, when also the
river-gods claimed their human victims. Some of the goddesses were represented
by statues or busts in Gallo-Roman times, if not earlier, and other images of
them which have been found were of the nature of ex-votos, presented by worshippers in gratitude for the goddess's
healing gifts. Money, ingots of gold or silver, and models of limbs or other
parts of the body which had been or were desired to be healed, were also
presented. Gregory of Tours says of the Gauls that they "represent in wood
or bronze the members in which they suffer, and whose healing they desire, and
place them in a temple." Contact of
the model with the divinity brought healing to the actual limbs on the
principle of sympathetic magic. Many such models have been discovered. Thus in
the shrine of Dea Sequana was found a
vase with over a hundred; another contained over eight hundred. Inscriptions
were engraved on plaques which were fastened to the walls of temples, or placed
in springs. Leaden tablets with
inscriptions were placed in springs by those who desired healing or when the
waters were low, and on some the actual waters are hardly discriminated from
the divinities. The latter are asked to heal or flow or swell--words which
apply more to the waters than to them, while the tablets, with their frank
animism, also show that, in some cases, there were many elemental spirits of a
well, only some of whom were rising to the rank of a goddess. They are called
collectively Niskas--the Nixies of later tradition, but some have
personal names--Lerano, Dibona, Dea--showing
that they were tending to become separate divine personalities. The Peisgi are also appealed to, perhaps the
later Piskies, unless the word is a
corrupt form of a Celtic peiskos, or the Latin piscus, "fish." This is unlikely, as fish could not exist in a
warm sulphurous spring, though the Celts believed in the sacred fish of wells
or streams. The fairies now associated with wells or with a water-world beneath
them, are usually nameless, and only in a few cases have a definite name. They,
like the older spirits of the wells, have generally a beneficent character. Thus in the fountains of Logres dwelt damsels
who fed the wayfarer with meat and bread, until grievous wrong was done them,
when they disappeared and the land became waste. Occasionally, however, they have a more
malevolent character.
The spirit of the waters was often embodied in an animal,
usually a fish. Even now in Brittany the fairy dweller in a spring has the form
of an eel, while in the seventeenth century Highland wells contained fish so
sacred that no one dared to catch them. In Wales S. Cybi's well contained a huge eel
in whose virtues the villagers believed, and terror prevailed when any one
dared to take it from the water. Two sacred fish still exist in a holy well at
Nant Peris, and are replaced by others when they die, the dead fish being
buried. (If the fish appeared when an
invalid drank of the well, this was a good omen.) This latter act, solemnly
performed, is a true sign of the divine or sacred character of the animal. Many
wells with sacred fish exist in Ireland, and the fish have usually some
supernatural quality--they never alter in size, they become invisible, or they
take the form of beautiful women. Any
one destroying such fish was regarded as a sacrilegious person, and sometimes a
hostile tribe killed and ate the sacred fish of a district invaded by them,
just as Egyptians of one nome insulted those of another by killing their sacred
animals. In old Irish beliefs the salmon
was the fish of knowledge. Thus whoever ate the salmon of Connla's well was dowered with the wisdom which had come to them
through eating nuts from the hazels of knowledge around the well. In this case
the sacred fish was eaten, but probably by certain persons only--those who had
the right to do so. Sinend, who went
to seek inspiration from the well, probably by eating one of its salmon, was
overwhelmed by its waters. The legend of the salmon is perhaps based on old
ritual practices of the occasional eating of a divine animal. In other cases,
legends of a miraculous supply of fish from sacred wells are perhaps later
Christian traditions of former pagan beliefs or customs concerning magical
methods of increasing a sacred or totem animal species, like those used in
Central Australia and New Guinea. The
frog is sometimes the sacred animal, and this recalls the fairytale of the Frog
Bridegroom living in a well, who insisted on marrying the girl who drew its
waters. Though this tale is not peculiar to the Celts, it is not improbable
that the divine animal guardian of a well may have become the hero of a
folk-tale, especially as such wells were sometimes taboo to women. A fly was the guardian spirit of S. Michael's
well in Banffshire. Auguries regarding health were drawn from its movements,
and it was believed that the fly, when it grew old, transmigrated into another.
Such beliefs were not peculiarly Celtic.
They are found in all European folk-lore, and they are still alive among
savages--the animal being itself divine or the personification of a divinity. A
huge sacred eel was worshipped by the Fijians; in North America and elsewhere
there were serpent guardians of the waters; and the Semites worshipped the fish
of sacred wells as incarnations or, symbols of a god.
ater Celtic folk-belief associated monstrous and malevolent
beings with rivers and lakes. These may be the older divinities to whom a
demoniac form has been given, but even in pagan times such monstrous beings may
have been believed in, or they may be survivals of the more primitive monstrous
guardians of the waters. The last were dragons or serpents, conventional forms
of the reptiles which once dwelt in watery places, attacking all who came near.
This old idea certainly survived in Irish and Highland belief, for the Fians conquered huge dragons or serpents
in lochs, or saints chained them to the bottom of the waters. Hence the common
place-name of Loch na piast,
"Loch of the Monster." In other tales they emerge and devour the
impious or feast on the dead. (S. Patrick, when he cleared Ireland of serpents,
dealt in this way with the worst specimens. S. Columba quelled a monster which
terrified the dwellers by the Ness.) The
Dracs of French superstition--river
monsters who assume human form and drag down victims to the depths, where they
devour them--resemble these.
The Each Uisge, or
Water-horse, a horse with staring eyes, webbed feet, and a slimy coat, is still
dreaded. He assumes different forms and lures the unwary to destruction, or he
makes love in human shape to women, some of whom discover his true nature by
seeing a piece of water-weed in his hair, and only escape with difficulty. Such
a water-horse was forced to drag the chariot of S. Fechin of Fore, and under his
influence became "gentler than any other horse." Many Highland lochs are still haunted by this
dreaded being, and he is also known in Ireland and France, where, however, he
has more of a tricky and less of a demoniac nature. His horse form is perhaps connected with the
similar form ascribed to Celtic water-divinities. Manannan's horses were the waves, and he was invariably associated
with a horse. Epona, the
horse-goddess, was perhaps originally goddess of a spring, and, like the Matres, she is sometimes connected with
the waters. Horses were also sacrificed
to river-divinities. But the beneficent
water-divinities in their horse form have undergone a curious distortion,
perhaps as the result of later Christian influences. The name of one branch of
the Fomorians, the Goborchinn, means the
"Horse-headed," and one of their kings was Eochaid Echchenn, or "Horse-head." Whether these have any connection with the
water-horse is uncertain.
he foaming waters may have suggested another animal personification,
since the name of the Boyne in Ptolemy, is derived from a primitive bóu-s, ox, and vindo-s, white, in Irish bó
find, white cow. But it is not
certain that this or the Celtic cult of the bull was connected with the belief
in the Tarbh Uisge, or Water-bull,
which had no ears and could assume other shapes. It dwells in lochs and is
generally friendly to man, occasionally emerging to mate with ordinary cows. In
the Isle of Man the Tarroo Ushtey,
however, begets monsters. These Celtic
water-monsters have a curious resemblance to the Australian Bunyip. The Uruisg, often confused with the brownie, haunts lonely places and
waterfalls, and, according to his mood, helps or harms the wayfarer. His
appearance is that of a man with shaggy hair and beard. In Wales the afanc is a water-monster, though the word first meant
"dwarf," then "water-dwarf," of whom many kinds existed.
They correspond to the Irish water-dwarfs, the Luchorpáin, descended with the Fomorians and Goborchinn from Ham.
In other cases the old water beings have a more pleasing
form, like the syrens and other fairy
beings who haunt French rivers, or the mermaids of Irish estuaries. In Celtic France and Britain lake fairies are
connected with a water-world like that of Elysium tales, the region of earlier
divinities. They unite with mortals,
who, as in the Swan-maiden tales, lose their fairy brides through breaking a taboo.
In many Welsh tales the bride is obtained by throwing bread and cheese on the
waters, when she appears with an old man who has all the strength of youth. He
presents his daughter and a number of fairy animals to the mortal. When she
disappears into the waters after the breaking of the taboo, the lake is
sometimes drained in order to recover her; the father then appears and
threatens to submerge the whole district. Father and daughters are earlier lake
divinities, and in the bread and cheese we may see a relic of the offerings to
these.
uman sacrifice to water-divinities is suggested by the
belief that water-monsters devour human beings, and by the tradition that a
river claims its toll of victims every year. In popular rhymes the annual
character of the sacrifice is hinted at, and Welsh legend tells of a voice
heard once a year from rivers or lakes, crying, "The hour is come, but the man is not." Here there is the trace of an abandoned custom
of sacrifice and of the traditional idea of the anger of the divinity at being
neglected. Such spirits or gods, like the water-monsters, would be ever on the
watch to capture those who trespassed on their domain. In some cases the victim
is supposed to be claimed on Midsummer eve, the time of the sacrifice in the
pagan period. The spirits of wells had
also a harmful aspect to those, at least, who showed irreverence in approaching
them. This is seen in legends about the danger of looking rashly into a well or
neglecting to cover it, or in the belief that one must not look back after
visiting the well. Spirits of wells were also besought to do harm to enemies.
Legends telling of the danger of removing or altering a
well, or of the well moving elsewhere because a woman washed her hands in it,
point to old taboos concerning wells. Boand,
wife of Nechtain, went to the fairy
well which he and his cup-bearers alone might visit, and when she showed her
contempt for it, the waters rose and destroyed her. They now flow as the river
Boyne. Sinend met with a similar fate
for intruding on Connla's well, in
this case the pursuing waters became the Shannon. These are variants of a story which might be
used to explain the origin of any river, but the legends suggest that certain
wells were taboo to women because certain branches of knowledge, taught by the
well, must be reserved for men. The legends
said in effect, "See what came of women obtruding beyond their proper
sphere." Savage "mysteries" are usually taboo to women, who also
exclude men from their sacred rites. On the other hand, as all tribal lore was
once in the hands of the wise woman, such taboos and legends may have arisen
when men began to claim such lore. In other legends women are connected with
wells, as the guardians who must keep them locked up save when water was drawn.
When the woman neglected to replace the cover, the waters burst forth, overwhelming
her, and formed a loch. (The waters
often submerge a town, now seen below the waves--the town of Is in Armorica, or the towers under Lough Neagh. In some Welsh instances a man is the culprit. In the
case of Lough Neagh the keeper of the well was Liban, who lived on in the waters as a mermaid. Later she was
caught and received the baptismal name of Muirghenn,
"sea-birth." Here the myth of a water-goddess, said to have been
baptized, is attached to the legend of the careless guardian of a spring, with
whom she is identified. The woman is the priestess of the well who, neglecting
part of its ritual, is punished. Even in recent times we find sacred wells in
charge of a woman who instructs the visitors in the due ritual to be performed.
If such legends and survivals thus point
to former Celtic Priestesses of wells, these are paralleled by the Norse Horgabrudar, guardians of wells, now
elves living in the waters. That such
legends are based on the ritual of well-worship is suggested by Boand's walking three times widdershins
round the well, instead of the customary deiseil. The due ritual must be
observed, and the stories are a warning against its neglect.
n spite of twenty centuries of Christianity and the
anathemas of saints and councils, the old pagan practices at healing wells have
survived--a striking instance of human conservatism. S. Patrick found the
pagans of his day worshipping a well called Slán,
"health-giving," and offering sacrifices to it, and the Irish peasant today has no doubt that
there is something divine about his holy wells. The Celts brought the belief in
the divinity of springs and wells with them, but would naturally adopt local
cults wherever they found them. Afterwards the Church placed the old pagan
wells under the protection of saints, but part of the ritual often remained
unchanged. Hence many wells have been venerated for ages by different races and
through changes in religion and polity. Thus at the thermal springs of
Vicarello offerings have been found which show that their cult has continued
from the Stone Age, through the Bronze Age, to the days of Roman civilisation,
and so into modern times; nor is this a solitary instance. But it serves to show that all races, high and
low, preserve the great outlines of primitive nature religion unchanged. In all
probability the ritual of the healing wells has also remained in great part
unaltered, and wherever it is found it follows the same general type. The
patient perambulated the well three times deiseil or sun-wise, taking care not
to utter a word. Then he knelt at the well and prayed to the divinity for his
healing. In modern times the saint, but occasionally the well itself, is prayed
to. Then he drank of the waters, bathed
in them, or laved his limbs or sores, probably attended by the priestess of the
well. Having paid her dues, he made an offering to the divinity of the well,
and affixed the bandage or part of his clothing to the well or a tree nearby,
that through it he might be in continuous rapport with the healing influences.
Ritual formulæ probably accompanied these acts, but otherwise no word was
spoken, and the patient must not look back on leaving the well. Special times,
Beltane, Midsummer, or August st, were favourable for such visits, and where a patient was too ill to present
himself at the well, another might perform the ritual for him. The rag, or
clothing hung on the tree seems to connect the spirit of the tree with that of
the well, and tree and well are often found together. But sometimes it is
thrown into the well, just as the Gaulish villagers of S. Gregory's day threw
offerings of cloth and wool into a sacred lake. The rag is even now regarded in the light of
an offering, and such offerings, varying from valuable articles of clothing to
mere rags, are still hung on sacred trees by the folk. It thus probably has
always had a sacrificial aspect in the ritual of the well, but as magic and
religion constantly blend, it had also its magical aspect. The rag, once in
contact with the patient, transferred his disease to the tree, or, being still
subtly connected with him, through it the healing properties passed over to
him.
The offering thrown into the well--a pin, coin, etc., may
also have this double aspect. The sore is often pricked or rubbed with the pin
as if to transfer the disease to the well, and if picked up by another person,
the disease may pass to him. This is also true of the coin. But other examples show the sacrificial nature
of the pin or other trifle, which is probably symbolic or a survival of a more
costly offering. In some cases it is thought that those who do not leave it at
the well from which they have drunk will die of thirst, and where a coin is
offered it is often supposed to disappear, being taken by the spirit of the
well. The coin has clearly the nature of
an offering, and sometimes it must be of gold or silver, while the antiquity of
the custom on Celtic ground is seen by the classical descriptions of the coins
glittering in the pool of Clitumnus
and of the "gold of Toulouse" hid in sacred tanks. It is also an old and widespread belief that
all water belongs to some divine or monstrous guardian, who will not part with
any of it without a quid pro quo. In many cases the two rites of rag and pin
are not both used, and this may show that originally they had the same
purpose--magical or sacrificial, or perhaps both. Other sacrifices were also
made--an animal, food, or an ex voto, the last occurring even in late survivals
as at S. The new's Well, Glasgow, where even in the eighteenth century tin cut
to represent the diseased member was placed on the tree, or at S. Winifred's
Well in Wales, where crutches were left.
ertain waters had the power of ejecting the demon of
madness. Besides drinking, the patient was thrown into the waters, the shock
being intended to drive the demon away, as elsewhere demons are exorcised by
flagellation or beating. The divinity of the waters aided the process, and an
offering was usually made to him. In other cases the sacred waters were
supposed to ward off disease from the district or from those who drank of them.
Or, again, they had the power of conferring fertility. Women made pilgrimages
to wells, drank or bathed in the waters, implored the spirit or saint to grant
them offspring, and made a due offering. (In some early Irish instances a worm
swallowed with the waters by a woman causes pregnancy.) Spirit or saint, by a transfer of his power,
produced fruitfulness, but the idea was in harmony with the recognized power of
water to purify, strengthen, and heal. Women, for a similar reason, drank or
washed in the waters or wore some articles dipped in them, in order to have an
easy delivery or abundance of milk.
The waters also gave oracles, their method of flowing the
amount of water in the well, the appearance or non-appearance of bubbles at the
surface when an offering was thrown in, the sinking or floating of various
articles, all indicating whether a cure was likely to occur, whether fortune or
misfortune awaited the inquirer, or, in the case of girls, whether their lovers
would be faithful. The movements of the animal guardian of the well were also
ominous to the visitor. Rivers or river
divinities were also appealed to. In cases of suspected fidelity the Celts
dwelling by the Rhine placed the newly-born child in a shield on the waters. If
it floated the mother was innocent; if it sank it was allowed to drown, and she
was put to death. (The practice may have been connected with that noted by
Aristotle, of plunging the newly-born into a river, to strengthen it, as he
says, but more probably as a baptismal or purificatory rite. Girls whose purity was suspected were
similarly tested, and S. Gregory of Tours tells how a woman accused of adultery
was proved by being thrown into the Saône. The mediæval witch ordeal by water is
connected with this custom, which is, however, widespread.
he malevolent aspect of the spirit of the well is seen in
the "cursing wells" of which it was thought that when some article
inscribed with an enemy's name was thrown into them with the accompaniment of a
curse, the spirit of the well would cause his death. In some cases the curse
was inscribed on a leaden tablet thrown into the waters, just as, in other
cases, a prayer for the offerer's benefit was engraved on it. Or, again,
objects over which a charm had been said were placed in a well that the victim who
drew water might be injured. An excellent instance of a cursing-well is that of
Fynnon Elian in Denbigh, which must once have had a guardian priestess, for in an old woman who had charge of it presided at
the ceremony. She wrote the name of the victim in a book, receiving a gift at
the same time. A pin was dropped into the well in the name of the victim, and
through it and through knowledge of his name, the spirit of the well-acted upon
him to his hurt. Obviously rites like
these, in which magic and religion mingle, are not purely Celtic, but it is of
interest to note their existence in Celtic lands and among Celtic folk.
.