Lughnasadh
Lugh's Spear by Harold Robert Millar Wikimedia Commons |
Lughnasadh, one of the four main Celtic Festivals of the year would have been celebrated this evening of 31st July, the Celts' new
day beginning at dark or nightfall. Lughnasadh, celebrated on the 1st august, is a time of joy to mark the bounty of the first harvests.
Named after the god Lugh it is also a time to mark the point
where the sun’s descent becomes more obvious as it travels towards the darkness
of winter.
The god Lugh is often referred to as the sun god but he is a
god of many aspects. He is associated as being a fierce warrior but also of
being associated with thunderstorms. The raven, crow and lynx are creatures associated
with him and he is said to have had a magic hound. An invincible spear is said to
be one of his magic weapons, a spear which never failed to miss its target and
was so restless it often moved of its own volition.
There are many sites on the internet with lengthy stories of
Lugh and his son Cu Cuchlainn if you’d like more information on the Ulster
Cycle of tales.
Lughnasadh also brings with it an anxiety because although
the 1st August traditionally begins Lughnasadh not all of the crops
are quite ready yet for harvesting and storing. As daylight reduces and the
weather varies from summery to more autumn like the harvesting conditions are
crucial for the cropping and storing of fruits and cereals which are meant for
long storage.
In the time of my Celtic
Fervour Series characters there would have been considerable watching of the
ripening of the crops at this time of year. They would have had plenty of
experience of checking the crops till they were at the correct stage of
ripeness. I’m sure in north-east Scotland almost two thousand years ago, in the
lands of the tribes that Ptolemy referred to as Taexali, they would have anxiously
watched the weather and made judgements about harvesting depending on what they
though the coming days or weeks would be like. Too much rain would have been
devastating to crops which were liable to go to mould very quickly if not
processed and safely into their underground grain pits.
The advance of General Agricola around AD 83 or 84 to north-east
Scotland ,
said to have been late in the campaign season, would probably have been the absolute
worst time for the indigenous tribal people who were essentially farmers. Agricola certainly made his impact on my characters in Book 3 of my Celtic Fervour Series After Whorl: Donning Double Cloaks after Lughnasadh.
Lughnasadh also features in my Teen Time Travel novel The Taexali Game. Here's a little extract from Chapter Seven for your free Sunday read!
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Lughnasadh also features in my Teen Time Travel novel The Taexali Game. Here's a little extract from Chapter Seven for your free Sunday read!
***
A
bardic druid?
Aran’s excitement soared. He’d read that bardic druids
told stories of the Celts in song and verse as well as being priests of the
faith. That they were skilled secret agents was an even more thrilling thing to
remember.
Tuadh surged onto his feet, his fist rising high into
the air, the noise dwindling to nothing. Furious, yet heartily rousing, his
voice boomed over the seated people.
“People of Balbath, of the ancient Taexali, and now
allies of the Caledon Federation of tribes – the Roman army again marches
across our lands, even though the legions of Emperor Severus trod our soil flat
last Lughnasadh. You know how destitute we have been of grain crops over the
snows and days of darkness because they carried off the best of our harvest
before they burned the remainder, and left us scrabbling for winter fodder for
our animals. How many of you had to glean food from our revered forests in the
depths of winter, risking the wrath of our god Cernunnos, because the woods and
streams were our only source of food?”
A tide of mumbles rumbled around the room.
“Aye! They left us lean and hungry. Now the news is
that Emperor Severus flies in our face yet again. The Roman legions stride south
towards us, again killing everything in their path that shows a hint of
resistance.”
Appalled gasps halted Tuadh.
An old female elder’s frail question broke into the
disgust. “Are our constant attacks not sufficient to rout them from our lands?”
“Did their ships not take them away from the northern
shores of our Vacomagi neighbours?” asked a warrior alongside her.
“Why do they return? What have we left that they can
steal from us?” This wail came from another of the elders.
Tuadh’s shout was meant to calm the disorder… and it
did. “We do still have our successes when they infiltrate our woods and hills,
but that only happens when we lure in small numbers of them. One Celtic tribe
cannot fell a legion of Romans when each soldier wields his powerful gladius
and uses his shield like a snail cowering into its shell.”
One of the warriors opposite Tuadh jumped up, his
sheer fury evident in his clenched fists held fast to his thighs. “After they
left us in dire straits last Lughnasadh it was said they would not return to Beinn
Na Ciche and our Garioch area since they had already laid waste to our soil. We
were told that they would sail back to Rome
using their fleet of vessels which we have noted many times, plying back and
forth off our Taexali shores. Why has this not happened?”
“Listen well to our druid brother who has the latest
tidings from north and south. He can explain all to us.” Tuadh’s hand rested
briefly on the tall man’s shoulder before he sat down again.
***
Lughnasadh greetings to you!
Slainthe!