Saturday, 10 October 2020

Gaelic Folklore (38): Esus

 


Esus

1.

 “A pillar dedicated to Jupiter by the 'Parisian mariners' between AD 14 and 37 was discovered in 1711 under the choir of the cathedral of Notre Dame in Paris.  One shows the god Esus cutting branches from a tree. In the other there is a similar tree with a bull surmounted by three birds. It bears the title Tarvos Trigaranus, 'The Bull with Three Cranes'. That these two adjacent scenes belong together is confirmed by a relief from Treves  in which a man, similarly dressed in short working tunic, appears to be hacking the trunk of a tree in whose foliage are visible the head of a bull and the same three birds. These three components, the sacred tree, the divine bull and the triad of otherworld birds, are familiar features of insular Celtic tradition, and obviously we have to do here with some episode from a myth.  Unfortunately its precise content can only be conjectured. Musee de Cluny, Paris. “ 

2.

“M. d'Arbois regards this as illustrating the Tain. Esus, the woodsman, is Cuchulainn; his action depicts what the hero did -- cutting down trees to bar the way of Medb's host; "Esus" is derived from words meaning "anger," "rapid motion," such as Cuchulainn often displayed. The bull is the Brown Bull; the birds are the forms in which Morrigan and her sisters appeared, though these bird-forms were those of the crow, not the crane; the personal names Donnotaurus is found in Gaul and is equivalent of the Donn Tarb -- the "Brown Bull." 

“Cúchulainn, who had spent the night with a woman (some say his wife, others say differently), woke up later that morning and when he went out he found the tracks of the passing army.

'I was foolish,' he said to Laeg. 'I have let an army through and gave no warning to Ulster.' Determined and angry at himself, he and Laeg made haste and eventually overtook the advancing force. He settled down at the ford at Áth Gabhla and cut a massive tree-fork with one slice and set it deep in the waters of the ford so no chariot could pass that way. As he was finishing his task the four sons of Urard mac Anchinne came upon him. He cut off their heads and impaled them on the four points of the tree-fork. The chariot horses returned to the armies and the men there saw all the blood on the animals and thought there was a battle-force awaiting them at the river at Áth Gabhla. A company of men were sent to inspect the place, but all they saw was the track-marks of one chariot, the four heads impaled of the tree-fork, and Ogam writing on the side of the fork.

When the army met up with the company at the river Medb could not recognise the heads and asked if they were of her people.

'They are," said Ailill, 'and the very best of them too. How could they have been killed so easily? And what does that blasted Ogam say now!'

One of the druids spoke out the writing: One man, using one hand, had placed this fork. None may pass therefore unless another man - again, not Fergus - could do likewise.

'Very well," said Ailill, 'we will not attempt this challenge yet, if at all, but the messages says nothing about removing the obstacle. I leave that to you, Fergus.'

Fergus broke fourteen chariots in the attempt to remove the embedded fork. Only when he hitched up his own horse and chariot did he succeed in removing the fork from the riverbed.”

(An Táin Bó Cuailgne: The Cattle-Raid of Cooley)


3. 

What is known of Esus?

“Esus: The Roman poet Lucan described in a poem, the Pharsalia, dating from the 1st c. AD, the last great battle in the civil war between Pompey and Caesar. In it, he alludes to the journey of Caesar's troops through southern Gaul and their encounter with three Gaulish gods: Taranis, Teutates and Esus (Pharsalia I, 444-6). Lucan describes this triad as cruel, savage and demanding of human sacrifice: 'horrid Esus with his wild altars'. In later commentaries on Lucan's poem, probably dating from the 9th c. from Berne, Esus is mentioned as being propitiated by human sacrifice: men were stabbed, hung in trees and allowed to bleed to death. The two commentators equate Esus with Mars and Mercury respectively, but this may not pose as great a problem as it first appears, since the word 'Esus' is not so much a name as a title, meaning 'Lord' or 'Good Master'.

Whilst the implication of Lucan's description is that Esus was an important and powerful Gaulish divinity, this is belied by the archaeological evidence in which Esus may be traced to only two monuments. The more significant stone forms part of the pillar dedicated to Jupiter by Parisian sailors in the reign of Tiberius. The block from Paris was found with five others in 1711 on the site of Notre-Dame. The Esus stone itself is inscribed with his name, and beneath this is a depiction of a muscular god chopping at a branch of a willow tree. On a juxtaposed scene is another willow, a bull and three cranes or egrets, with the inscription 'TARVOSTRIGARANUS'. Essentially similar iconography recurs on a 1st c. AD stone at Trier, where an unnamed woodcutter attacks a willow in which repose three egrets and the head of a bull.

The symbolism of the two monuments, whilst not identical, is sufficiently similar and idiosyncratic for it to be possible to identify the presence of Esus on both. In addition to the image of the woodman, the willow, the marsh birds and bull appear on the Paris and Trier images. The iconography is obscure, but there is a natural association between bulls, birds, and willows: egrets feed on parasites in cattle hide; they, like the willow, are inhabitants of marsh or water margin, and egrets nest in willows. The woodcutting scene is problematical in terms of interpretation. It has been suggested that Esus prunes the tree for sacrificial purposes. It may be that there is a cyclical imagery in the destruction and rebirth of the Tree of Life in winter and spring: the birds may represent the soul in flight, perhaps the soul of the tree itself; the bull could himself be a sacrificial beast. Seasonal imagery may also be present in the symbiotic relationship enjoyed between bull and birds, which are of mutual benefit to one another. Finally, it should be recalled that trees are associated with Esus not simply in the iconography buy also in the Berne commentaries which describe the fate of Esus' sacrificial victims.” 

4.

Three clues offer themselves to the meaning of this deity:

1. His name;

2. The kind of sacrifice offered to him;

3. The ritual act on the altars from Paris and Trier. We will examine them in turn.

The word "Esus" is not unknown in Gaulish. We find it in the personal names Esunertus, Esumagos, Eusmopas, Esugenus. This name is found in Irish Eogan, in Welsh Ewein, Owain; even simply as Hesus. Perhaps also the name of the Esuvii tribe belongs to it. The explanation of this word can be broken up further, however. Dom Martin seeks a connection with the Breton word (h)euzuz, meaning "terrible." Others have thought it from Italic aisus, esus, "God," and the Etruscan Erus or also from the Latin herus, "Lord, Master." On the other hand, Vendryes explains the name from esu, "good" (cf. Gk. eus and also archaic Indic asura); but we hardly get the impression of a good god from the Berne scholia. Others would like to derive it from the Indo-European root *is, "to desire;" then arguing the sense: the one who fulfills men's desires. Perhaps better might be the derivation from the root *eis, which means "energy, passion." These are, however, only possibilities, which prove one more time that one can't come far with etymology.

That the scholia of Bern refer to horrible sacrifices also give us few clues to the significance of the god. Already the expression membra digesserit cannot be understood. Must one understand by it, "to tear up, to cup up?" Or do we rather have to deal here with a disposition of the limbs after the blood has flowed out? It is important that the sacrifice would be hung from a tree, because a tree likewise stands out as full of meaning in the pictured representations. The objection that we hear only seldom of hanging rituals among the Celts and that the chopping off of lime is completely unknown says little. What do we know about the bases of Celtic sacrifice? What the classical authors have told us of it is in any case terrible enough. If we consider the reports of these sacrificial practices reliable, Esus must seem to us to be a god of little friendliness.

Finally, the portraits from both altars. To what purpose does the god strike a tree? It seems to me completely erroneous to think of a simple forester god, and to connect Esus with clearing-work, or to see in him at all a manual laborer who provided the nautae of Paris with the necessary workforce for their ships. Likewise it is incorrect that the cutting down of trees would be regarded as a death, and then further to remind us of Maypole rituals. It seems even more to me that Esus in the picture is cutting the limbs of a tree; if one imagines that sacrifices for him were only just hung on the tree, once comes perhaps to the conclusion that god would have been shown here by the injury of a tree for the hanging-sacrifice.

We must admit, with W. Deonna, that the meaning of the myth is for us incomprehensible; perhaps the picture only refers to a single piece of the ritual. At any rate, I would like to assert that there can be not talk of a "rural" god of clearing-work. The relief of the blocks from Paris represents him in the same rank as Jupiter and Volcanus. The Berne scholiasts compare him with the great Roman god; it remains only questionable whether he is Mercury or Mars or perhaps neither of them. The Esus-complex has also been compared with Hercules, and it has been pointed out in that regard that figures of bas-reliefs with the name Smert… are themselves found; one could consequently think of a Gaulish Herakles or Donar, thus of a god of physical strength.

But that will not explain the hanging-sacrifice. When one accordingly takes this into consideration, the comparison with Mercury gains special meaning. If the German Mercury is simply Woden-Odhin, this go stands in undoubted connection with an act of sacrifice by means of hanging. It can likewise be said of both gods that they are also gods who protect travel: Odhin is called: [ed. note: obscured], thus "god of cargo;" he gives mariners good winds. The Paris altar was erected by nautae. On the other hand, one is reminded how cautious one must be with one's interpretation. Great gods are always ambivalent; their power extends into many areas of life. Odhin is not only a god of force, but of tricks and intrigues, of crafts and skillfulness. Exactly for these reasons could the mariners have worshipped him. The god to whom the hanging-sacrifice was offered was also, however, a cruel god. In that vein one could point to the name "Esus," if one accepts O'Rahilly's etymology; but also the interpretation of Vendryes deserves consideration, if one thinks that the name "the good god" is perhaps to be considered as only a euphemism.

All in all: the account of the hanging-sacrifice and the picture on the Paris altar sets out as the nearest course of assumption that Esus was a name for the head god of the Gauls and perhaps most likely to be compared to Mercury and the northern Germanic Odhin.

 (1)  Proinsias Mac Cana, Celtic Mythology.

 (2)  John A. MacCulloch, Celtic Mythology.

 (3)  Miranda J. Green, Dictionary of Celtic Myth and Legend.

 (4) Jan de Vries, Keltische Religion.

 

1  

Gaelic Folklore (37): The Gods and the Supernatural

The Gods and the Supernatural 

The Nature of Celtic Religion

Because the pagan Celts did not write about themselves, the only way that modern scholars can learn anything about their belief-systems is by constructing hypotheses based upon archaeological sources and historical documents written by contemporary, but alien, classical observers, who selected and often misunderstood what they recorded.

There is another group of documents, those which tell of the earliest Welsh and Irish myths and written in the vernacular. But these have to be treated with extreme caution as sources for pagan Celtic religion, and as a strand of evidence which must be treated separately from contemporary data. This tradition is the work of Christian redactors writing in medieval times, and close links between the undoubted mythology it contains and the evidence which is synchronous with the pagan Celts (around 500 Be to AD 400) cannot usefully be made. Moreover, this vernacular tradition relates only to Wales and Ireland, far from the continental heartlands of the early Celts.

The picture painted by the evidence is of a rich and varied religious tradition. This variety and complexity is due largely to the essential animism which appears to have underpinned Celtic religion, the belief that every part of the natural world, every feature of the landscape, was numinous, possessed of a spirit. These natural forces were perceived as capable of doing humankind good or harm, and so they had to be controlled and their power harnessed by means of divination, sacrifice and other propitiatory rituals. Sacred space could take the form of built shrines, but equally important were natural cult loci such as lakes, springs and trees or open-air enclosures where worshippers were not cut off from the numinous landscape around them.

The perception of the supernatural as being present in the natural world penetrated all aspects of Celtic belief. Thus, the most popular, pan-tribal deities - the celestial gods and the mother-goddesses - were linked to their respective functions as providers of light, heat and fertility. The great healing cults of Romano-Celtic Gaul and Britain were centered upon the natural phenomena of thermal springs. Many divinities - such as Epona, Arduinna, Nodens and Cernunnos - had a close affinity with animals: indeed the horned and antlered gods took on the partial personae of bulls or stags. The perception of spirits in the landscape is amply demonstrated by the names of gods on epigraphic dedications of the Romano-Celtic period, which betray their topographical character, as personifications of places: the identity of gods such as Glanis of Glanum and Nemausus of Nemausus (Nimes), both in Provence, were merged inextricably with their locality.

Cernunnos

Problems of evidence

Sequana

 Leaving aside the difficulties of the written sources for the present, we   have a very real problem in the archaeological (that is the epigraphic   and iconographic) evidence. This results from the fact that the great   majority of inscriptions and images date to the Romano-Celtic rather   than the free Celtic (i.e. pre-Roman) period. There is considerable   overt Roman influence on indigenous religious expression. Gods in   classical guise and bearing Roman names were adopted by the Celts   but with subtle changes, such as the addition of a native surname to a   dedication, or of Celtic symbols - like the wheel or torque - to the   imagery of Jupiter or Mercury. Other divinities, like Cernunnos, the   Mothers, Epona, Sequana and Sucellus, appear almost wholly   indigenous in concept, but their imagery still owes something to   Roman iconography and, of course, their names use Latin forms, even   though their meaning may be Celtic. But even these apparently native   gods are sometimes argued to be the products of Romanization in that,   with a few exceptions, they do not appear in the archaeological record   until the Roman period.



What is perhaps more likely is that the perceptions underlying the identity of these spirits were always present but only took the form of physical images once the stimulus of the great Mediterranean traditions of iconography took hold of the Celtic world. The lack of free Celtic epigraphy and the comparative paucity of pre-Roman religious imagery means that, inevitably, we have to observe Celtic gods through a window created by Rome.

Pre-Roman iconography and cult expression.

Iconography

When an invading group of Celts overran and plundered the sacred Greek site of Delphi in the early third century BC their leader, Brennus, laughed at the anthropomorphic images of the Greek divinities which adorned the great sanctuary. He was apparently scoffing at the naivety of Mediterranean perceptions of the divine. But whilst it is undoubtedly true that religious iconography is comparatively scarce in Celtic lands before the intrusion of Greco-Roman artistic traditions, images of Celtic divinities were nonetheless present in small numbers in the last few centuries before Christ.

Stone sculpture falls into two main distributional clusters: one in central Europe; the other in the area of southern Gaul known later by the Romans as The Province (Provence), because of their early conquest of the region (late second century BC).

The central European group includes large stone male statues, dating between the sixth and third centuries Be, which are presumed to represent gods or dead heroes. One of the earliest such figures is a huge sandstone image from a late Hallstatt burial-mound at Hirschlanden near Stuttgart. He is naked but for a conical helmet, a torque, belt and dagger. His original position may have been at the top of the mound, and he may represent the dead warrior himself or perhaps a war-god, patron of the deceased. (pic. left) The image at Holzerlingen, also in Germany and of similar date, almost certainly represents a god: a rough sandstone block was crudely hewn into a human torso, featureless except for a belt at the waist. But the statue is janiform, surmounted by a dual head bearing horns, perhaps the earliest representation of a Celtic horned god. The carved head from Heidelberg comes from a statue or pillar-stone: dating to the fifth-fourth century Be, it bears a leaf crown consisting of two swelling lobes which meet above the head, and on the forehead is carved a motif which has been interpreted by some as a lotus bud, a Greek symbol of eternity. The two features of crown and lotus may signify divinity: both recur on the pillar-stone at Pfalzfeld in the Rhineland which dates to the same period, and which bears curvilinear foliate Celtic designs out of which peer four leafcrowned human heads. Further east is the third-century Be ritual site of Msecké Zehrovice near Prague, which produced a carved stone head, originally from a life-size statue: the face is that of the typical Celt as stereotyped by classical writers (and more recently by the creators of Asterix): hair en brosse, staring eyes and flowing moustache. The image bears a heavy buffer-torque, probably a symbol of divinity or, at least, high status. It is difficult to interpret the Msecké Zehrovice head as representative of anything other than a god.

The Provencal group of sculptures dates to between the fifth and second centuries Be, and their presence may be due in part to the stimulus of mimetic representation provided by the nearby Greek (Phocean) colony of Marseilles. Such sanctuaries as those at Entremont and Roquepertuse in the lower Rhone valley have produced a rich iconography, including sculptures of crosslegged male figures, some of whom wear armour, and who may be war-gods. The severed human head is a prominent iconographic theme at these shrines, and some of these 'warrior-gods' hold severed heads in their hands, as if reflective of the divine dominance over humans in life and death. Entremont produced a carved pillar of incised human heads; both this sanctuary and that at Roquepertuse had niches, filled with the human skulls of young men killed in battle, built into the structure of the temple. The sanctuary at 

Janiform head, Roquepertuse

Roquepertuse was guarded by a janiform head, perhaps that of the presiding deity, who gazed inwards and outwards from the gateway of his sacred place.  Other stone sculptures, presumed to represent divinities, come from elsewhere in the Celtic heartland: an important example is the boar-god at Euffigneix (Haute Marne), an image which dates to the second or first century Be. The carving takes the form of a roughly hewn pillar depicting a beardless god wearing a heavy torque, with a boar in low relief striding up his torso. On the side of the pillar is an immense human eye, perhaps indicative of protection or omnipotence. The boar's dorsal crest is erect, as if to reflect aggression: for the Celts, the image of the boar was an important war symbol. The Euffigneix deity may himself be a god of war, or perhaps of hunting and wild nature.

Imagery in metal - usually bronze - also bears witness to the representation of divinities in the last few centuries Be. Small figures of warrior- or hunter-gods come from St Maur-en-Chaussee (Oise), Balzars in Liechtenstein  and Dineault in Brittany, the last-mentioned a warrior-goddess with a goose-crested helmet.

Images of animals are more common than are anthropomorphic depictions: bulls, like those from Byciskila (Czechoslovakia) and Hallstatt (Austria), which date to the sixth century Be, may symbolize the sacrifice of an animal which was central to the early Celtic economy. Boar figurines may reflect war symbolism: some, like those at Hounslow (Middlesex), Gaer Fawr and Luncani in Romania, were probably helmet crests. But the bronze boars from Neuvy-en-Sullias (Loiret) are nearly life-size and almost certainly came from a shrine. The Neuvy hoard dates to the very end of the Gaulish Iron Age.

The Gundestrup Cauldron is one of the most important pieces of pre-Roman Celtic religious art. It is a large silver-gilt vessel made up of individual plates which bear a complex iconography, including depictions of divinities. The cauldron was found dismantled in a Danish peat-bog at Raevemose Qutiand), and was probably made in the second or first century Be. The circumstances of its manufacture, use and subsequent deposition have long been the subject of controversy.

Gundestrop Cauldron


It was probably made in south-east Europe by Thracian or Dacian silversmiths. Many of the iconographic themes are exotic: lions, elephants and griffons adorn the plates. However, there are a number of unequivocally Celtic motifs: the weapons and armour belong to the Celtic world, and the deities represented may be paralleled in the later Romano-Celtic imagery of Gaul and Britain. These include the antlered god, sometimes identified as 'Cernunnos' because of a first century AD Parisian monument linking this name with a similar antlered figure. On the cauldron, the god is accompanied by a ram-headed snake, an idiosyncratic cult-animal which occurs consistently with the antlered god in Romano-Celtic Gaul. This serpent appears a total of three times on the cauldron. The antlered figure appears with two torques on the vessel, and he is thus represented on a number of later Romano-Gaulish depictions. Interestingly, as early as the fourth century Be, an antlered figure with torques and horned snakes is portrayed in the rock art of Camonica valley in north Italy. Another undoubtedly Celtic divine representation on the Gundestrup vessel is the wheel-god, depicted on an outer plate. Once again, there is good evidence for this deity in Romano-Celtic imagery. The mystery of the Gundestrup Cauldron may never fully be solved. It is possible that south-east European craftsmen were commissioned to make a great cult-vessel for a Celtic clientele. The cauldron could have been looted from Gaul by Teutonic raiders, perhaps the Cimbri, and later buried by them for safety or as an offering to their own gods.

Boar god


 Vincent Megaw has pointed out that the Euffigneix stone boar-god was perhaps   carved by a craftsman who was more familiar with working in wood than in stone.   There is no doubt that images of gods were made in wood, which usually does not   survive. That they may have been common during the Iron Age is suggested by the   chance preservation of these figures in waterlogged contexts. Five pinewood images   of naked warriors with shields and detachable phalli, set in a simple boat model,   were found at Roos Carr in the Humber estuary: they may date from as early as the   seventh century Be. A wooden female image dating to the first century Be comes   from a wicker structure at Ballachulish, Argyll; and there are other stray British   figures. Oak carvings of animals, dendro-dated to 123 Be, come from a shaft at the   Viereckschanze of Fellbach-Schmiden in southern Germany.

 

The first phase of the great healing sanctuary dedicated to Sequana, goddess of the source of the Seine at Fontes Sequanae near Dijon, dates to the interface between the free Celtic and Romano-Celtic periods. This primary, first century Be, phase is represented by more than 200 wooden votives, depictions of pilgrims and the parts of their bodies requiring a cure, which were offered to the power of the sacred spring. Of similar date (first century Be to first century AD) are the more numerous wooden images at Chamalieres (Puy-de-Dome), a holy place where two springs met. We are reminded of Lucan's statement concerning a sacred grove near Marseilles, encountered by Julius Caesar's army: The images were stark, gloomy blocks of unworked timber, rotten with age, whose ghastly pallor terrified their devotees.

We are unable positively to name or identify these pre-Roman gods whose images were carved in stone, wood or bronze because this iconography is unsupported by inscriptions or documents, although their accompanying symbolism may sometimes suggest their possible function.

Ritual Behaviour

It is clear that iconography is by no means the sole evidence for religious expression in the pre-Roman period.

Sword Llyn Cerrig Bach

 Perhaps the most prominent iron age ritual   behaviour  concerns the deposition of prestigious   objects, often of a martial nature, which were   frequently buried on dry land or in watery contexts.   These implements and weapons were often   deliberately bent or broken in order ritually to 'kill'   them and thus render them appropriate as sacrifices   to the spirits of the supernatural world. Examples of   this practice are numerous: in Britain we may cite   the deposit of metalwork, including swords and   chariot fittings, in the marshy lake at Llyn Cerrig   Bach on the island of Anglesey, which spans a   period  between the second century Be and the first   century AD. Broken weapons formed a substantial element of the offerings made at later pre-Roman iron age temples, such as Hayling Island (Hampshire). This occurrence may be closely paralleled at Gournay (Oise). Deposits in Switzerland are particularly prolific:that at La Tene, on the shore of Lake Neuchatel, is well known, but the equally important deposit of weapons and chariot equipment at Tiefenau, in the oppidum of Bern-Engehalbinsel, is less familiar. This evidence of recurrent ritual behavior may be interpreted as 'conspicuous consumption', but equally it may express behaviour associated with a warrior-cult, a practice essentially similar to that described by Caesar: When they have decided to fight a battle, it is to Mars that they usually dedicate the spoils they hope to win.

Classical writers on Celtic Gods

Although Greek and Roman writers recorded their perceptions of Celtic culture and religion, especially from the first century Be, they provide little evidence for the identity or function of Celtic deities. Indeed, such commentators as Caesar, Strabo and Diodorus Siculus are more concerned with ritual practices, such as headhunting, or religious functionaries, like the druids, than with Celtic perceptions of the supernatural world. Caesar alludes to druidic lore concerning the transmigration of souls. Both Lucan and Diodorus comment on this Celtic belief in a cycle of death and rebirth.

Esus

Where mention of the gods does occur, it is heavily overlaid by Roman conflation and misinterpretation. Thus Caesar speaks as if Celtic deities are identical with those of the Roman pantheon, giving them such names as Mercury, Mars and Jupiter. Does this mean that he was unaware of their native names, that they were deliberately kept secret, or that the resemblance with his own gods was so strong that he was concerned to record this similarity? The first century AD Roman poet Lucan does allude to three gods with Celtic names who were apparently encountered by Caesar's army in southern Gaul in the first century Be. These are Esus, Taranis and Teutates, all of whom, states Lucan, demanded appeasement in the form of human sacrifice. Lucan implies that these were important Gaulish divinities, but this is not borne out by archaeological testimony. Taranis and Teutates each occur on a handful of dedications which are scattered within the Romano-Celtic world, and the name Esus appears only once, on an early first-century AD monument in Paris.  All three names are descriptive: Taranis ('Thunderer') is tied to function; Esus means 'Lord' or 'Master'; and Teutates probably refers to the divine leadership of a tribe or tuath. Esus and Teutates are therefore titles rather than names.

Sporadic references to Celtic gods appear in the literature of the Romano-Celtic period. Tertullian and Herodian allude to the cult of Apollo Belenus in Noricum and north Italy, and Ausonius alludes to sanctuaries dedicated to Belenus in Aquitaine in the fourth century AD. Grannus is referred to by Dio Cassius  who speaks of the emperor Caracalla's unsuccessful attempts to find a cure for his physical afflictions at the temples of Grannus, Aesculapius and Serapis. Reference is made to Epona's cult by a number of sources, including Apuleius and Minucius Felix. So the classical literary sources are of very little use in establishing the identities of Celtic gods and the nature of belief. Any detail concerning a Celtic pantheon must be sought from the epigraphy and iconography of the Romano-Celtic world.

The Romano-Celtic tradition

Celtic religious expression is represented during the Roman period by two main strands of material culture: epigraphy and iconography. Inscriptions give us the names of deities; imagery demonstrates how they were perceived as physical manifestations of the supernatural. One immediate problem lies in the fact that, very frequently, an epigraphic dedication to a god occurs without any accompanying image and vice versa. So it is usually impossible to marry images with their names or names with their images. Moreover, there is often a discrepancy between the ethnicity of a god as expressed by his name and by his appearance. Thus a being with a Celtic name - such as Sequana - may look very classical, whilst a god with a Roman name - Mars or Mercury, for instance - may be depicted in wholly native style.

Epigraphy

The names of indigenous Celtic gods may contain Roman and native elements or may be purely Celtic. Thus Mars and Mercury were frequently invoked with different Celtic surnames or epithets: Mars Lenus, worshipped among the Treveri, and Mars Corotiacus, invoked in Suffolk, are just two of numerous examples. Mercury was equally diverse: his titles or surnames include Cissonius and Moccus. Jupiter was surnamed Brixianus in Cisalpine Gaul and Parthinus in north-east Dalmatia, both topographical names associated with high places: these are just two of many such titles. Apollo was worshipped in Gaul mainly as a healer: Moritasgus, Grannus, Belenus and Vindonnus are among his epithets. Sometimes the Celtic name comes first: a good example is Sulis Minerva, the healer-goddess of Bath (Aquae Sulis). The pairing of Roman and Celtic god-names is confusing and difficult to interpret. Sometimes the Celtic surname is descriptive - hence Mars Rigisamus (‘Greatest King') at West Coker in Somerset, or topographical, like Apollo Grannus at Grand in the Vosges. But Sulis was clearly a goddess in her own right, equated in the Roman period with the classical Minerva.

Sucellos

Another method of epigraphic pairing concerns the linkage of male and female divinities. A pattern may be discerned here, in that, very frequently, the male deity bears a Roman or Roman and Celtic name, whilst that of the female is wholly indigenous. Examples include Mercury and Rosmerta; Apollo Grannus and Sirona; Mars Loucetius and Nemetona. Sometimes both members of the divine couple have Celtic names: such is the case with Sucellus and Nantosuelta; Luxovius and Bricta, the local spirits of Luxeuil; or Ucuetis and Bergusia, the craft deities of Alesia. Again the native element may often be interpreted as descriptive: 'Sucellus' means 'The Good Striker' (and his iconographic image is that of a man bearing a long-shafted hammer); Nantosuelta's name means 'Winding Brook'; Rosmerta is 'The Great Provider'; Nemetona 'The Goddess of the ’Sacred Grove'. Interestingly, goddesses like Rosmerta and Sirona may be invoked alone, without their partner, thus signifying their independent status within the Celtic pantheon.

Epigraphy gives us the names of many more purely native divinities, sometimes linked with images. Such is Epona, the great horse-goddess, worshipped all over the Celtic world. The mother-goddesses or deae matres are interesting: often they are known merely by their Latin title 'matres' or 'matronae', but they may bear descriptive epithets which bear witness to localized versions of their cult. The Rhineland mother-goddesses bear outlandish-sounding topographical surnames, such as the Matronae Aufaniae or the Vacallinehae.  The Celtic thunder-god Taranis is sometimes equated with the Roman Jupiter, but his occurrence alone on several inscriptions argues for his independent identity. The god of the Lydney (Glos.) sanctuary, Nodens, is invoked on his own, but he is also linked with both Mars and Silvanus, as if the native god were perceived as possessing an affinity with the functions of both Roman deities. This apparent confusion in pairing recurs, for instance, with Mars and Mercury in Gaul, whose native surnames are sometimes shared: thus both Mars Visucius and Mercury Visucius were invoked on dedications.

The Evidence of Iconography

The imagery of Celtic religion in the Roman period is rich and varied. If it is accompanied by a dedicatory inscription, a sculpture or figurine may be positively identified; if not, the symbols accompanying the image must be used to attempt some classification in terms of character or function. A depiction may be associated with an inscribed name on only one or two stones, although the image itself may appear many times. In

these instances, scholars have tended to use the inscribed name to identify similar images where the dedication is absent. Such is the case with Epona, the horse-goddess, whose image (a woman riding side-saddle on a horse or sitting between two or more horses) is far more common than are epigraphic dedications bearing her name.

Likewise, the inscribed name 'Cernunnos' accompanies a depiction of an antlered, torque-bearing god on an early first-century AD stone in Paris. But there are many images of a similarly antlered being from Romano-Celtic Gaul which bear no name. Are we justified in assuming these portrayals also represent Cernunnos? The name itself merely means 'Horned One', and so it is less a true god-name than a descriptive title. The names Sucellus and Nantosuelta occur at Sarrebourg near Metz, on a carving of a male and female, the most distinctive accompanying symbol being the longshafted hammer borne by Sucellus. But many other images of a similar divine couple were the focus of veneration in Gaul and the Rhineland, without the identifying names, although Sucellus is mentioned on one or two scattered dedications in Britain and Gaul.


The symbols or motifs which accompany images of Celtic deities give some clues as to their function or identity, although our interpretation of these symbols may be open to misconception. The celestial god frequently carries a solar wheel as his main attribute. The fact that this wheel-god is sometimes invoked under the name of Jupiter, the Roman sky-god, makes the native divinity's identification secure. The Celtic god of the sky and sun was sometimes invoked as a divine horseman, the horse symbolizing the prestige and swiftness appropriate to the high god of sun and firmament. Although this equestrian deity is entirely indigenous to the Celtic world, in terms of image and meaning, he is nevertheless venerated under the Roman name, Jupiter. The triple mother-goddesses may be represented by name, but their imagery alone betrays their responsibilities as promoters of fertility. Thus they may be portrayed with babies, children, fruit, corn or loaves. The Burgundian Mothers are often represented one with an infant at the breast, a second with a napkin, and the third with a bath-sponge and basin, and a cornucopia is frequently present in emphasis of the symbolism of abundance. Occasionally, this simple fertility imagery is subtly changed, so that the symbols of fecund plenty are accompanied or partially replaced by motifs of the Fates, such as a balance or spindle, reflective of the thread of life. In these images, the rolled napkin may instead be interpreted as a scroll, the Book of Life.

The Celto-Germanic mother-goddesses are distinctive in their imagery: they never reflect human fertility, but instead their attributes are those of fruit, bread or coins, symbolic of prosperity and commercial success. Moreover, these Rhineland goddesses may represent different ages of womanhood: the central goddess is always depicted as a young girl with flowing hair, whilst her flanking companions are older and wear huge beehive-shaped bonnets or headdresses. The triplistic character of many mother-goddess images expresses the power of 'three' in Celtic religion, a significance which transcends mere intensity of expression by means of repetition.

Triplism is an important characteristic of Celtic religious iconography, and triadism may be observed in imagery other than that of the Mothers. The Genii Cucullati were hooded dwarves associated with fertility, and indeed with the Mothers themselves, and they usually occur in threes. Gods with triple heads were depicted especially among the Remi, the Aedui and Lingones; and a triple-horned bull was venerated particularly in north-east Gaul.

The symbolism of the healer-deities is varied and interesting. The Celtic Mars, at such therapeutic shrines as Mavilly (Cote d'Or) and Trier, is not a warrior in the true, Roman, sense, but instead he fights and protects against ill-health and barrenness. Sometimes, his image is that of a soldier, as at Mavilly. Frequently, the motifs of healing and fertility are blurred and merged. Thus curative goddesses such as Sirona and Damona are represented with ears of corn, eggs and snakes: the corn is a symbol of plenty; eggs have strong fertility associations, but may also represent death and regeneration (since the egg must be broken in order to release new life). Because of their habit of skin-sloughing, serpents were clear symbols of rebirth. Many curative deities were partners, such as Apollo and Sirona: in their imagery, it is often the goddess who possesses the symbolism evocative of function.

But many healer-goddesses themselves carry no emblems which in themselves are indicative of their curative function: Sequana, the divine healer of the Seine at its spring-source near Dijon, is depicted as a woman in a long robe and a diadem, sailing in a duck-prowed boat to reflect her aquatic symbolism. But it is the presence of dedications and votive offerings that identify Sequana as a healer.

Perhaps the most powerful group of images is that associated with animals. The close relationship between god and beast is clearly reflected in iconography which displays the ubiquity and cult importance of animal symbolism. Some creatures accompanied anthropomorphic images, presumably to demonstrate a particular quality or feature associated with the god's character, just as occurs in classical imagery. But there are indications that animals in Celtic religion achieved a status denied them in the Mediterranean world. Some divinities - and Epona is a prime example - are dependent upon animals for their iconographic and epigraphic identity.

Thus, Epona is always depicted riding on a mare or accompanied by horses. Moreover, her name is philologically linked with epos, a Gaulish word for 'horse'. She was the goddess of the craft of horse-breeding, and she was revered by cavalrymen as a divine protectress of them and their animals. But she also possessed wider responsibilities as a deity of fertility and general well-being. There was even an underworld dimension to her cult. Other, less widely known goddesses enjoyed a similar affinity with beasts: Arduinna, the boar-deity of the Ardennes Forest is one; Artio, bear-goddess of Muri in Switzerland, is another.

Artio

It is difficult to establish whether or not the animals themselves possessed divine status; the likelihood is that they were sacred only inasmuch as they symbolized certain features of a particular cult. But there is debate over the status of certain creatures which appear in the iconography: monstrous animals, like the ram-horned serpent and the triple-horned bull, may well have been worshipped as beings of tremendous power, because of their hybrid or unnatural imagery. The triple-horned bull is not associated with any particular anthropomorphic god, but the snake frequently accompanies the antlered god, and is also sometimes linked with Celtic versions of Mars and Mercury. Both images occur mainly in north-east Gaul, although outliers occur as far west as Britain. Both these creatures are endowed with extra features in order to increase their potency: horns are symbols of power and fertility. Possibly linked with the triple-horned bull in some manner is Tarvostrigaranus, the 'Bull with Three Cranes', who is named and depicted on a first century AD stone from Paris.

The sanctity of animals is seen at its least equivocal in the iconography of deities whose images, although essentially anthropomorphic, nevertheless incorporate animal features. Of these, the most important are the horned or antlered gods. Images with bull- or goat-horns appear all over the Romano-Celtic world. A particular group occurs in North Britain, among the Brigantes, where local deities were depicted as naked warriors, often ithyphallic, with bull-horns. A god invoked especially in north-east Gaul is portrayed with antlers, and other recurrent features may also be discerned on these images: these include a cross-legged seating position; the possession of two torques (one worn, one carried); accompaniment by a ram-horned snake and/or stag; the possession of attributes of plenty, such as money, corn or fruit. As discussed above, a god with torques and antlers was invoked as Cernunnos on a Parisian monument, but all other images of an antlered god are without dedications. This image is particularly interesting because, unlike most Romano-Celtic iconography, there are examples which pre-date the Roman period: one of the iron age rock carvings at Val Camonica in north Italy, dating to the fourth century Be, depicts a standing figure with antlers, torques and a horned serpent; and the same god appears on the Gundestrup Cauldron, as we have seen. The presence of semi-zoomorphic images serves to emphasize the lack of rigid boundaries between animal and human which is central to early Celtic religious perceptions. Beasts were revered for their specific qualities (speed, virility, aggression or beauty) and these qualities were woven into the Celtic expression of the supernatural.

The Gods of the earliest written myths

Here, I would like to draw attention to the deities themselves who are presented in this early Celtic literature. As mentioned at the beginning of this chapter, it is important to recognize the impossibility of making direct links between the gods of these western myths and those expressed by the images and inscriptions which are the main concern of this survey. There is a wide spatial and temporal chasm between the evidence for Romano-Celtic religion and the Insular divinities to whom we are introduced in - say - the Irish Book of Invasions.

The early Welsh and Irish deities have names and characters, but no idea of cult or ritual associated with them is present in the documents. They are supernatural heroes rather than true objects of belief. It is within the Irish vernacular tradition that the pagan gods are most clearly developed. The most important are those described in the Book of Invasions, the members of the Tuatha De Danann, the divine race of Ireland, the 'people of the goddess Danu'. The Tuatha De consist of deities with specific functions and responsibilities: these include the Daghdha, who was a specialist in druid lore and magic; Dian Cecht, the physician; Goibhniu, the divine blacksmith; Lugh, the warrior and god of light, who was also skilled in arts and crafts; Brigid, a triple goddess of poetry, prophecy and fertility. The Book of Invasions recounts a series of mythical occupations of Ireland (in order to explain the presence of the Gaels or Celts). The Tuatha De were one invading group, who inhabited the island until dispossessed by the Gaels and forced to create a new magical domain underground. This Otherworld was perceived as a mirror-image of earthly life, but better, a land of immortality, joy and plenty.

The Ulster Cycle, too, had its supernatural beings, though they are portrayed as heroes rather than gods sensu stricto. Chief of the Ulster tales is the Tain Bo Cuailnge, and here we are introduced to such characters as Cu Chulainn, the archetypal champion, and the warlike and promiscuous Medb, queen of Connacht, an euhemerized goddess. These beings are essentially similar to the heroic characters of the Four Branches of the Mabinogi and the Tale of Culhwch and Olwen. The Insular and Welsh mythological traditions contain many common elements: supernatural events; magical cauldrons of regeneration and plenty; beings of superhuman size, strength and wisdom; a brilliantly portrayed Otherworld; the potency of triads; supernatural animals, and the related phenomenon of shapechanging between human and animal form.

A Celtic pantheon?

Leaving aside the separate and contentious issue of the vernacular mythology touched on above, we may legitimately pose the question as to whether it is possible to discern a hierarchy of Celtic divinities from the bewildering array of epigraphic dedications and iconographical forms of pagan Celtic Europe with which we are presented.

Jupiter column

Judging from frequency of occurrences and from distribution, it is possible to make some assessment of the popularity of various god-types. At the top are deities whose names and images appear widely and often throughout the Celtic world. These include the sky- and sun-god, although certain aspects of his cult, such as his depiction as a celestial horseman on the 'Jupiter columns' of eastern Gaul and the Rhineland, may cluster in specific regions. The mother goddesses and Epona likewise transcend tribal boundaries and appear to have been venerated by many different communities. The cults associated with these deities not only spanned wide areas but their worship percolated down from the highest to the humblest echelons of society. For example, some of the Rhineland mother-goddesses were invoked by high-ranking officials in the Roman army or civil magistrates, whilst some Gaulish and British carvings of the goddesses were clearly commissioned by groups of rural people or by a single family for veneration in private shrines. Likewise, the 'Jupiter-Giant columns' set up in honour of the Celtic sky-god were the result of corporate religious activity, but the small pipe-clay figurines of the same god from Gaulish factories would have been purchased by individuals who perhaps could not afford an altar or a bronze statuette.

Less universal than the major, pan-tribal cults were those which had specific centres of popularity but which also occur sporadically elsewhere. The healers Apollo and Sirona had an important temple at Hochscheid in the Moselle Basin and were venerated particularly among the Treveri and the neighbouring Mediomatrici.

But the couple appears also in Burgundy, at Maiain, and Sirona was worshipped as far apart as Brittany and Hungary . Another important divine couple, Mercury and Rosmerta, were prominent especially in central and eastern Gaul, but with a cluster of British monuments among the Dobunni of Gloucestershire. Images of the antlered god occur mainly in eastern Gaul, appearing, for instance, among the Burgundian tribes at such places as Beaune and Etang-sur-Arroux and among the Remi at Reims. But the Santones of Saintes in Aquitaine in western Gaul also venerated the antlered god and his image is even known among the Dobunni of western Britain, at Cirencester.

Certain Celtic divinities were the focus of cults which were of major importance but their veneration was centred upon a particular religious site of which the deity was the resident spirit. Examples such as de Sequana at Fontes Sequanae; Nodens at Lydney on the river Severn and Sulis at Bath. Lenus Mars was a Treveran god, with major sanctuaries at Trier itself, at Mohn and Pommern. But he was worshipped far away from his homeland, at Caerwent in Gwent and at Chedworth in Gloucestershire.

More localized still were the numerous obscure deities who are perhaps mentioned on only one or two dedications and who were apparently venerated solely by the inhabitants of one small settlement, or at the site of a particular spring or mountain. Such was Souconna, the spirit of the river Saone at Chalon or Fagus ('Beech Tree') in the Pyrenees.

Conclusion. 

One of the dangers of a survey such as this is the unwitting presentation of a picture which can assume a timeless continuum, spanning nearly a millennium. This is not the intention, but in part is the inevitable result of studying a period which is essentially prehistoric, where chronology is often imprecise, especially where iconography is concerned. Clearly, it is possible to make distinctions between religious behavior before and after the coming of Roman traditions to Celtic lands. It is possible to observe that imagery increased towards the end of the Iron Age, when Greco-Roman concepts and customs were already intruding upon the Celtic world. Imagery and epigraphy which come from well-excavated sites offer an opportunity for close dating. But all too often, good archaeological contexts are absent for iconography, and dating by style alone is neither easy nor reliable. It is important, however, to acknowledge pagan Celtic religion as a dynamic force, which was constantly changing and responding to the stimuli of new concepts and ideas, whilst still retaining a core of conservatism. It is indeed the tension between tradition and innovation which gives Celtic religion its essential character of diversity and enigma.

(The Celtic World, 1995 Miranda Green)