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barddas 
Posted: 28-Jul-2003, 03:50 PM
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I found this site .... It has some quotes of Ceasar's on the Gauls ( Celts) And some other informative information


http://www.tylwythteg.com/druid1.html


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Shadows 
Posted: 28-Jul-2003, 04:03 PM
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QUOTE (barddas @ Jul 28 2003, 04:50 PM)
I found this site .... It has some quotes of Ceasar's on the Gauls ( Celts) And some other informative information


http://www.tylwythteg.com/druid1.html

Good site lots of info! We also must remember that Gaul was what is now France, and part of the Germanic nations. This points to my original suggestion that Celts were a melting pot of beliefs and religions from the ages before written history.


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barddas 
Posted: 29-Jul-2003, 07:49 AM
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I totally agree with that.
I was just saying that in the Isles there is a a hint of change after the vikings came in. A noticible merging of the two. In the way boats were built, to the way jewlery was made.
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Fionnghal 
Posted: 25-Aug-2003, 11:43 AM
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Well, barddas suggested me to post this tale in the Celts forum, so here it is.
It's a traditional one from the Orkneys (islands full of stories from the sea and the Norwegians that colonised them). The seal body of the selkie was thought to contain a human soul, usually of a drowned person.
This version comes from W. Traill Dennison's 'The Goodman of Wastness' and G. F. Black's 'The Goodwife of Wastness', both of them recorded from natives of the Orkneys in the 19th and early 20th C.
At the end of this tale a friend added a verse from Strathnaver (from Alan Temperley's 'Tales of the North Coast').
Just to help you, 'buddo' means something like 'my dear'.
I hope you enjoy it!


The Selkie Wife

Few know the goodman of Wastness who lived alone on a small farm that stood above the sea. He dug and he sowed and he laboured all the hours of daylight to make the two ends meet; yet he remained just as poor as a corrie crisosag?a dry old beetle. He never even had time to take a wife.
?Och, there?s nae enough food to bind a body to a soul,? he?d say. ?I canna manage twa o? them.?
Well, it happened one day that the goodman of Wastness was down on the ebb when he was surprised to hear snatches of song, girlish laughter and low cheery voices. The sounds seemed to be coming from the seaward side of some rocks at the far end of the shore.
The goodman crept forward and waded swiftly to the rock; the sight that met his gaze made him catch his breath in sheer astonishment. For there below him on a rocky shelf, just above the water?s edge, he saw a group of young men and maidens as naked as the sunsplashed rocks. Never in all his years had he cast eyes on such lovely faces, such smooth skins and such graceful limbs.
?Selkies! That?s what they are,? he murmured to himself.
He?d heard stories of the selkies or seal folk who sometimes come ahore, cast aside their seal skins and play their happy games.
?Aye, I ken who y?are,? he thought, seeing their skins upon a nearby rock. ?And what if I tak a skin for masel??? he thought. ?It?d kep ma bed warm or be a plaid for ma back.?
So the goodman of Wastness crept down sunseen, dashed across the sand and snatched up a silvery skin before any of the selkies could move.
What a to-do! Each lovely creature made a rush for the rock to seize a skin; then, diving into the sea, they swam away as fast as they were able, pulling on their seal skins as they went.
In the meantime, the goodman made good his escape with the selkie skin under one arm. Before he had left the ebb, however, he heard footsteps padding after him over the sand and the sound of a lassie softly weeping. As he turned he saw a lovely lassie holding out her hands towards him; and ever and anon she cried,
?O bonnie man, if there?s ony mercy i? thee human breast, gae back me skin! I canno?, canno?, canno? live i? the sea without it. I canno?, canno?, canno? bide among me ain folk without me ain seal skin.?
The goodman?s heart was moved by her sobbing pleas. Yet even more his heart was pierced by a strange sensation he had never felt before. His heart that had never loved a woman was now conquered by the beauty of the sea-lass, and he did not want to lose her.
?I dinna intend to return yon selkie skin,? he said. ?Y?ll nae be awa to sea again, ma bonnie lass. Y?ll stay wi? me and be ma goodwife.?
He put his plaid around the weeping sea-lass and took her by the hand, leading her to his farm. Once there he wrapped her in a blanket and gave her supper of bannock cakes and hot brose porridge. While she was eating he stole out to the barn, folded up the skin and hid it on a beam beneath the roof, where she would never find it.
Poor lassie. After her supper she lay down upon a bed and wept the whole night through. Likewise the next day too. And through the week.
But there came a time when her tears dried up and there was nothing for it but to make the best of her new mortal life. Her goodman was fairly kind to her, if a mite unpolished in his ways. And she became a thrifty, frugal, kindly goodwife. She bore her goodman seven children, four boys and three lasses, and there were not bonnier bairns in all the isle: with large gentle brown eyes and smooth white skin.
Although she appeared fair happy, there always seemed to be a weight upon her heart, and many a sad, yearning glance did she cast towards the sea. Of an evening, when the day?s work was done, she would sometimes sit upon the sandy ebb, gazing out to sea, as if searching for someone amid the waves. And she taught her bairns many a strange a doleful song that touched the heart of all who chanced to catch their music on the wind.
Now it chanced one time, when the goodman of Wastness had taken his sons fishing in his boat and the goodwife had sent two lassies to the ebb to gather limpets and wilks, that the selkie wife and the youngest lass were sitting alone at home. No sooner had her goodman and the children left the house than the selkie wife was in and out of the cupboards, feeling all along the shelves, peering under beds and tables, rummaging in all the chests and boxes, sighing all the while.
?Whist, Mam,? her little lassie said, ?what is it that ye?re seekin???
?Och, ma peerie bairn,? her mother said, ?I?m leukan for a bonnie selkie skin your father once brought hame.?
?Wad it be soft and silvery wi? bonnie bruin spots?? the lassie asked.
?Aye, ma bonnie bairn, that it wad! D?ye ken where t?is?? her mother cried excitedly.
Says the lass,
?Maybe I ken whar it is. Aen day whin ye were a? oot, an? Ded thought I was sleepan i? the bed, he took a bonnie skin doon; he glowred at it a peerie minute, then laid it upon the beam in our old stane barn.?
The lassie had hardly finished speaking when her mother rushed from the house towards the old stone barn. In an instant she was standing on a box, feeling with trembling hands along the beams. At last, as her dusty fingers edged along a beam they touched something soft?her selkie skin! Pulling it down, she clasped it lovingly to her breast and ran back with it to the house.
?Fare ye well, ma peerie buddo,? said she to the lass. ?I must awa to ma ain hame.?
She ran across the heather to the cliff, hurried down the cliff path to the sea, pulled on her long-lost skin and, with a last wave to her daughters on the ebb, she plunged into the sea.
When she was already far out to sea, she saw the fishing boat with her husband and her four sons. For several moments she swam alongside as if trying to tell them something. They were puzzled by the friendly seal that swam so close, its head lifted above the waves, looking at them with its lovely gentle eyes shining with a gleam that mingled joy with sadness.
All of a sudden, with a painful cry of recognition, the goodman of Wastness snatched up his net and went to cast it in the water.
But it was too late. The seal had dived under the waves and was soon far, far away, swimming out to sea. And beside her there swam a selkie man, crying with delight. As the goodman stared he heard a faint cry across the waves,

?Goodman of Wastness, farewell to ye.
I liked ye well, ye were good to me.
But I love better my man of the sea.?

And that was the last he ever saw of his selkie wife.
Yet every now and then, in the mouth of the night, he heard the faint sound of singing on the wind; and these were the words the voices sang,

Cha chum tigh fiodh fiodha sinn,
Cha chum tigh fiodh sinn,
Cha chum tigh bhan na slatan ruinn,
Cha chum tigh Bhreatunn ruinn.

The wood-wooden houses won?t keep us,
The houses of wood won?t keep us,
The white slatted houses won?t hold us,
The house of Britain won?t confine us.



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'Godman of Wastness, farewell to ye.
I liked ye well, ye were good to me.
But I love better my man of the sea.'
The Selkie Wife
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ranger 
Posted: 09-Sep-2003, 10:49 PM
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Is this a complete short story, or just an excerpt from a longer version? if it's a short story, can you get the collection anywhere in bookstores? Thanks, it was a beautiful story.


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Catriona 
Posted: 10-Sep-2003, 02:59 AM
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QUOTE (ranger @ Sep 10 2003, 04:49 AM)
Is this a complete short story, or just an excerpt from a longer version? if it's a short story, can you get the collection anywhere in bookstores? Thanks, it was a beautiful story.

A good 'starter' book re myths and customs that I can recommend is

Scottish Myths & Customs by the publisher Collins.
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Aventar 
Posted: 02-Oct-2003, 05:30 PM
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There was a series of movies done quite a few years ago in which they portray Robin Hood as being a chosen one of Hern. Hern plays a big part in those movies.

Aventar


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Catriona 
Posted: 02-Oct-2003, 06:04 PM
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QUOTE (Aventar @ Oct 2 2003, 11:30 PM)
There was a series of movies done quite a few years ago in which they portray Robin Hood as being a chosen one of Hern. Hern plays a big part in those movies.

Aventar

Hello Aventar
But the legend of Robin Hood is not Celtic.... At best it is Anglo Saxon! Legend has it that he was based in Nottinghamshire - and Sherwood Forest is still there today... cool.gif
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3Ravens 
Posted: 03-Oct-2003, 09:05 AM
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Since when did the movies ever let truth get in the way of a good (or not so good) story?


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Arianrhod 
Posted: 17-Nov-2003, 09:31 AM
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Excellent Point 3 !

The silkie story reminds me of the Water Horse one ..
I am sure a lot of Childrens Tales are just legend smile.gif

Here is the wee version of Arianrhod
She was the Welsh Godess of Don and the neice of Math,
King of Gwynedd ..
Math could sleep only if his feet were held in a Virgins lap,
and when Goewin, the Virgin who usally acted this part for him was raped by his nephew Gilvaethwy, it was suggested that Arianrhod should take her place.
Arianrhod had to step over Maths wand.
No sooner had she done so , then she gave birth to Dylan and Llue.
Gwydion , her brother , immediatey took charge of Liue and brought him up.
This did not prevent Arianhrod from placing a series of taboos on him..
including the sticture that he was to have no wife in the human race ..

Bloudeudd.
The fairest woman in the world.. was conjured out of blossoms by the magics of Gwydion and Math, so that she could be the wife of Gwydions nephew Llue .
But she betrayed her husband for another man..and plotted his death.
When the guilty lovers struck him,Lleu, rose into the ear in the shape of an Eagle .
After a long time Gwydoin found him, turned him back into a human, and healed his wounds.

Brigid,,
Sometimes known as Bridgit, was a Goddess of healing, and fertility who was belived to assest women in labor..
She seems to have been widly worshiped in Ireland and Brittain, where she was most likely known as BRIGANTIA ,
In Irish mythology , she was the wife of BRES , the half FOMORII god who breifly lead the TUATHA DE DANANN after the forst battel of Magh Tiureadh against the FIBOLG . Bres was handsome but oppresive, like all Fomorii, so his reign was short.
Bridgid , however bore him three sons.
She often appears as an alternative for her mother ANU. which suggests they were probably different asspects of the same Mother Goddess

St Bride , or St Brigit
One of Irelands patron staints, may have been a Preistess of the Goddess Bridid prior to her conversation into Christianty . It was said she was able to feed the animals with out reducing the avalible food for the people.,, and this also links her with Bridgid, who was celebrated at the Celtic festivle of Imbolc, on the first of February , at the same time the ewes came into milk ..

Taken from the Mythology Libary , Celtic Mythology

just a few of my faves,

In Service to the Dream,
Paula


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Aon_Daonna 
Posted: 10-Jan-2004, 04:23 PM
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This is a website I stumbled across ages ago, just remembered it and thought I'd post it:

http://www.pantheon.org/areas/mythology/eu...c/articles.html
It's quite a comprehensive guide to personalities in Celtic Mythology


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balisodare 
Posted: 16-Feb-2004, 04:31 PM
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I actually just had to due a paper on this subject....
The reason that not very much celtic myth/legend/etc. exists is because it was all passed on orally.

The Celts at this time memorized EVERYTHING!!
To ascend through the ranks of Bardship...one had to longer and longer poems in greater and greater quantities.

I even found a passage from Julius Caesar's writings remarking how these people, even though possessing a written language, still preferred that everything be memorized.

Eventually, during the many invasions and attempts to "re-culture" Ireland, these stories and epics were lost.

Therefore...when they try to do historical research today, it is VERY hard to find what was never written.

The Norse and Romans wrote down everything...hence our breadth of knowledge on the subject today.

Cheers
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